Roger Moroney: The duke waved to me

My snap of the Duke when he took a walk on Marine Parade. Photo / Roger Moroney

In my 15th year I kind of met the Duke of Edinburgh.

That remarkable gentleman who could lace a necktie to absolute perfection.

He always appeared so wonderfully dapper, even in his casual weekend riding kit, and on the day I encountered his fine suit and tie, and his smilingly welcoming demeanour, he was clearly notching all those attributes up.

It was 1970 and the Queen and her devoted consort Prince Philip had arrived in town and the town accordingly went crazy.

However, that was not my first taste of royalty, of seeing the Queen and the duke and waving Union Jacks.

It was back in 1963 when they came to town and if my wilting memory serves me correctly the populace of Te Awa Primary joined many other schools at McLean Park for a royal greeting.

I'm pretty sure the governor-general hosted them and I have a vague memory of them being driven amidst the throngs of lined up kids in a great open Landrover … I think.

The Queen and duke waved ceaselessly, and I seem to recall the dear lady later declaring, at the end of the event, that we could all have the rest of the day off school.

That did it for me … I have been a royalist since.

So yeah, six years later when teenagehood had started to bite like a snake, the royal couple returned to these parts.

There must have been some sort of announcement as to what the duke would be up to during the visit and I must have taken it in.

For I took my Kodak Instamatic camera (with black and white film of course) up to the Marine Parade where upon the great carpark neighbouring the now extinct Marineland there was a sort of car show being staged, and Prince Philip was scheduled to take a wander amidst it.

Which he did.

So here was this grand gentleman happily wandering and chatting with one and all.

He would have attended so many events and shows but he always pursued them valiantly and gracefully … hell of a good bloke.

And so (this is my royal memory or memories) it came to pass that the duke and his good lady were scheduled to drive along the Marine Parade … I think they were shooting out to Hastings.

A chum and I had decided to create a "lovely to see you" giant greeting card in the form of a huge sheet of thick cardboard which we had painted a Union Jack upon … along with the words "We're Backing Britain".

The great black car (a British one of course) crept gracefully along from the northern end of the parade and we took up our roadside station … off to their right so that at least the driver would likely spot us.

Which he did, but to my delight, and to my delight to this day, so did the duke who pointed towards us and our sign, as if to tell his fellow passenger, his dear lady wife, what a couple of young chaps had done.

And he waved at us … and we accordingly waved back, with grins which felt as wide as the sign we held.

The Duke of Edinburgh waved to us.

I was fizzing for days.

Today, as I take in his mortal departure, I am comfortable in declaring that he would have been the very finest slice of good company to attend a good old Kiwi barbecue.

He would have been the heart and soul with his many tales and fine observations, laced with dry humour and happy to meet and greet new faces.

And he would certainly have taken the tongs off me after only a few minutes, declaring with a chirpy grin "oh give them here … let's do this properly".

In the realm of devoted and tireless chaps he raised the bar, and likely visited a few as well.

And he once waved to me.

Roger Moroney is an award-winning journalist and observer of the slightly off-centre.