Historic ship Amokura’s legacy uncovered by Kerikeri cemetery find

The Amokura was a training ship for young men. Photo / Supplied via Heritage NZ

A chance discovery of a headstone in a Kerikeri cemetery has highlighted a New Zealand naval “tradition” started more than 115 years ago.

Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga Northland manager Bill Edwards was researching a public talk on cemeteries and cyphers - looking at the hidden language of grave symbolism - when he came across the headstone of William Cruller in the St James Church cemetery.

Cruller was a Kerikeri local who died onboard the Amokura, a training ship for young men.

Cruller’s headstone piqued Edward’s interest and he began to undertake more research into the little-known vessel.

The ship’s story began in October 1906 when a notice appeared in the New Zealand Gazette advising that HMS Sparrow – a 17-year-old gunboat that had survived several skirmishes in Africa – would be renamed the Amokura. A further notice advised she would be a training ship.

A new era of maritime training was about to begin – one that continues today with the New Zealand Navy’s investment in training young people.

“The Government bought the Amokura from the Admiralty for £800 and placed it under the New Zealand Marine Department,” Edwards said.

“A sailing ship was chosen so the teenage boys could experience climbing aloft and reefing sails as well as navigation, gun drill, machinery and other skills.”

Cruller died from pneumonia and pericarditis – though the Amokura offered many other ways for young men to meet their demise.

James Gaby was a maritime cadet who spent 18 months on the Amokura. He recalled his experiences in his book Mate in Sail.

A land-lubber from Temuka, Gaby joined “eight barefoot boys of 15 and 16 clad in oilskins and sou’westers” on the Amokura.

The teenage trainee told of a hair-raising experience furling a topsail during a Southern Ocean gale.

Clinging to ropes more than 20m above deck with the Amokura pitching and yawing in a freezing tempest, 20 cadets attempted to wrangle the flapping topsail and furl it.

Tired and hungry, they climbed down the rigging in defeat, when the captain appeared on deck.

“What are you boys doing down here,” Gaby quoted the captain as saying.

“Why did you come down before that sail was furled?”

Gaby wrote that the boys protested – to no avail – and were sent up the rigging again to finish the job.

The discipline taught then was unimaginable today.

Stealing, swearing or smoking carried a penalty of at least six lashes on the backside with all hands mustered on deck to witness the punishment.

Despite conditions that would be considered abuse by today’s standards the Amokura instructors were well regarded by graduates, many of whom earned certificates entitling them to sail as officers. Most entered the mercantile marine or the Navy.

In all, 530 boys served on the Amokura between 1907 and 1921 when it was decomissioned.

Edwards said the headstone was the perfect example of how cemeteries and other historic places can unlock other aspects of history.

“In this case, an intriguing aspect of our naval heritage.”