KEY POINTS:
Fortieth anniversaries are not usually landmark occasions, a time for special commemoration. But something unusual happened this week, 40 years after the interisland ferry Wahine grounded in Wellington Harbour and sank with the eventual loss of 53 lives. Earlier anniversaries have passed quietly. Not this time, however. Much
media space was allotted to that grim day and recollections of the rescued and the rescuers.
Several of the stories were about passengers who wanted to find people who had helped them to make it ashore safely. They wanted, in effect, to thank those who, often at great risk to themselves, had saved their lives. Often, their quests were in vain; their rescuers had died. Many readers must have wondered why four decades had passed before searches had been initiated. Why, indeed, survivors had stayed silent for so long, and why New Zealand had been content for that to happen.
There are a couple of possible explanations. The first relates to this being one of the greatest tragedies of modern New Zealand history. One of this week's stories was about a husband and wife who had survived the sinking but had barely mentioned it since. This suggests, perhaps, that many of the survivors were afflicted by a trauma not unlike that suffered in battle. It is often said that the worse the combat in which soldiers are involved, the less inclined they are to remember or to wish to discuss their experiences.
Today, of course, the survivors of such an incident would receive counselling. In 1968, there was virtually no help of any kind. A few survivors have found their own solution, meeting every anniversary of the sinking in an attempt to leaven the impact. Similarly, soldiers often find it most useful to talk to other veterans. They believe that only people who have shared an experience can truly appreciate the aftermath.
Others, however, have, until now, been silent. They were undoubtedly encouraged in this by attitudes pervading New Zealand society 40 years ago. This was not a time for what might be thought unnecessary fuss. Survivors were given a cup of tea and sent home. In most cases, there was no talk of compensation. No Government medals for heroism were awarded. The message was to get on with life.
A subsequent court of inquiry underlined that in finding "no wrongful acts or defaults". This was not a time for questioning or querulousness. New Zealand was just starting to shake off a longstanding stolidness. Students were in the vanguard of change, protesting vigorously against the Vietnam War. But it would be several years before this translated into an everyday challenging of officialdom and demands for answers.
That transformation does not explain, however, why the Wahine tragedy has, until now, been cast into the background. Why this year has seen a level of discourse and interest far surpassing that of, say, the 25th or 30th anniversaries. The answer may lie in a further change emanating, in part, from the 2001 attack on the World Trade Centre. The survivors were encouraged to express their feelings. The firefighters who perished were lionised. In the midst of disaster, America looked for and found heroes.
New Zealand is also paying ever more heed to its own heroes. The thousands who queued for hours to pay their last respects to Sir Edmund Hillary attest to that. So do the increasing attendances at Anzac Day commemorations. We have, as a society, become more sentimental.
The likes of the survivors of the Wahine have been encouraged to find their voice. This week, they provided a greater understanding of the horror of that day and the many deeds of heroism. Their stories needed to be told.
