I was stationed on the Royalist for about eight months.”
A typical deployment when Jack was in the navy would be: “Go to Pearl Harbour to work with the Americans, go to Canada to work with the Canadians, go to Singapore and work with the Malaysians and the Royal Navy, and come home via Australia and work with the Australians.”
What did he mean by “work with”?
“We'd go to sea and the whole idea was to work with other Commonwealth navies. We'd do tactical manouevres, naval gunfire support, we'd fire against targets, you'd be firing over land at certain targets allocated by the spotter. We'd do manoeuvres at sea, chase submarines. It was about sharing ideas and tactics with other countries.”
Jack is obviously proud to wear a swathe of medals on his chest, but his life might have turned out very differently.
His mother was Ngarangi Maraki from Waipiro Bay and father was Irishman Bill Donnelly. As a young fellow growing up in Gisborne he started to fall foul of the law.
“I was actually put in the navy,” he recalled this week.
“There was a sergeant of police in Gisborne called Blacky Reed. Many people still remember him. My mother took me down to the police station and he said to me, ‘You've got an option son, military or Borstal'.
“Everyone in my mother's family had joined the army. Her father was in Gallipoli, but for some reason my mother chose the navy. If my mother had said army, I might not be here now because they went to Vietnam.”
It was 1960 and Jack joined as a seaman boy, and off to sea it was. In those days trainees did 12 months on Motuihe island in the Hauraki Gulf, where the navy had established a training camp in 1941.
“All we knew was the navy,” he said.
“As you know navy is built on tradition, and in those days a lot of the Royal Navy veterans from World War 2 came out to New Zealand.”
While he was thankful his mother chose the navy, and he jokingly refers to it as a “floating hotel”, the Royal Navy vets were hard men.
“It was very, very harsh training,” he said.
“We went from boys to men in 12 months, and after 12 months we were categorised and I went into gunnery.”
Gunnery involved training in small arms weapons, close- and medium-range weapons, and 4.5 inch naval guns on the ships.
He also underwent ceremonial training, such as organising parades and teaching young trainees their basic drill.
“In 1972 all the Commonwealth navies used to send the best of their senior ratings (petty officer and above) to the UK, to HMS Excellent at Portsmouth, and that's where the gun crews are trained today,” he said.
“I went there for 12 months.There were four of us from New Zealand, and besides gunnery and missiles we learned all about Royal Navy ceremonial traditions.
“I was fortunate, or unfortunate really — I drew the short straw and had to explain to the instructor the workings of the gun carriage. We didn't know which module we were going to get on the day of the exam, and that's the hardest, that's the ultimate in ceremony — the gun carriage.
“It involves so much, it's all about teamwork, 138 guys.
“I opened my theory exam by likening the gun carriage to a hearse. When you look at it, the front sailors are the engine, the gun carriage is the hearse and the drag ropes are the brakes.
“It's vitally important when the thing gets moving that it's real teamwork. It's no good pulling against each other.
“To bring it to a halt you have to be spot on. The door of the ‘hearse' will open, the sailors march outwards, they take the coffin off and the coffin will go through, and then the sailors close ranks.
“This is for a very high ranking person. We've had a few in New Zealand and I've done a couple (of them).”
If you're a landlubber, or you're still mystified what this is all about, here's a story that will shed some light.
On February 2, 1901, one of the horses pulling the gun carriage carrying Queen Victoria's coffin got spooked and the others refused to move. Another version of events is that panic broke out when the horses pulling the gun carriage broke free.
Prince Louis Battenberg reportedly said, “If it is impossible to mend the traces you can always get the naval guard of honour to drag the gun carriage”.
So 138 sailors — known as “Bluejackets” — attached ropes to the carriage where the harnesses had been and pulled the gun carriage to St George's chapel by the sweat of their brows, at once getting Victoria to church on time and giving birth to a new royal tradition.
It is believed this is how Queen Elizabeth II will be taken to her final resting place.
“I got the Queen's Award, the British Empire Medal, for organising the navy's 50th anniversary,” Jack said.
“I went around every town in New Zealand for six months. Every charter parade there was, I worked out the route. I had a great time as well as doing my job!
“Ceremony was my specialty, that and being a drill instructor. It's like the RSM (Regimental Sergeant-Major) in the army. I was the gunnery instructor.”
Jack trained the guards for the Queen's visit in 1991. So was he interested in watching Queen Elizabeth II's funeral?
“Absolutely!” he said.
“Those sailors would have been training for her funeral for months. They would have travelled up to the venue at 2am to march the route. At Winston Churchill's funeral there were volunteers made up of former Royal Navy veterans, dressed in sailors' uniforms.”
Jack keeps in touch with other old sailors, writes stories about some of them, and has even written his own autobiography, “A Life Well Lived”.
“I miss the camaraderie. I keep in touch absolutely. I say to old sailors ‘tell your story; nobody knows what you did'.
“When I gave my autobiography to my family they were blown away with what I achieved.
“And I never looked back.”
Jack is taking up the position as president of the Gisborne Royal New Zealand Naval Association and would welcome all Navy veteran sailors, Wrens, wives and partners. The AGM is at 11am on Sunday, October 9 at the Gisborne RSA.
He waka eke noa (a canoe we are all on together).