#dailyat6am, Akaroa, Aotearoa, Banks Peninusla, South Island, Wild Horses

The HMS Britomart Monument

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Daily Photo – The HMS Britomart Monument at Green’s Point

If you find yourself wandering around Akaroa, it won’t be long before you come across Green’s Point. It’s a pleasant enough spot overlooking the harbour, but there’s something there that hints at just how differently New Zealand’s history might have unfolded. Standing in the grass is the Britomart Monument, a simple stone memorial marking an event that was decided by little more than timing.

In August 1840, Akaroa Harbour became the focus of an international race. The French had plans to establish a settlement here, and a group of colonists was already making its way across the Pacific. The British, however, had learned of those intentions and were determined not to lose control of the South Island before they had properly secured it. To make sure that didn’t happen, Lieutenant-Governor William Hobson dispatched HMS Britomart south from the Bay of Islands. The vessel arrived in Akaroa Harbour on 10 August 1840, and Captain Owen Stanley wasted little time. British officials were landed, a court session was convened, and the necessary legal formalities were carried out to demonstrate British authority. Most importantly, the Union Jack was raised.

Five days later the French warship L’Aube arrived carrying Captain Charles François Lavaud and the first organised group of French settlers. By then, however, the British had already made their move. The flag was flying, the paperwork was complete, and the South Island had effectively been claimed. The French settlers stayed regardless, helping to shape the unique character that still sets Akaroa apart today. French street names remain, French influence can be found throughout the town, and it is difficult to walk very far without being reminded of that heritage.

Standing beside the monument today, it is hard not to reflect on how narrow the margin really was. Five days is hardly any time at all. Had the Britomart encountered rough weather, suffered delays, or simply arrived a little later, New Zealand’s story might have taken a very different turn. History often feels inevitable when viewed from a distance, yet here on Green’s Point it becomes clear that sometimes it hinges on something as simple as who arrives first.

#dailyat6am, Akaroa, Banks Peninusla, South Island, Wild Horses

The Arson Wave of 1882

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Daily Photo – Akaroa’s Grand Hotel

I was staying at Akaroa’s Grand Hotel, which in 1882 was the scene of a devastating arson attack rumoured to be the work of a lone radical waging a fiery war against the town’s liquor trade. Just who the culprit was, and why he was so anti-alcohol, was never discovered. What we do know is that over the course of three nights, four hotels were attacked. Two were completely destroyed, one was significantly damaged, and the fourth was saved when the fire was discovered before it could take hold.

On the night of 28 August 1882, as the clock ticked past 2:00am, the crawl space beneath the floorboards of Waeckerle’s Hotel was packed with dried gorse bushes heavily soaked in kerosene. Across town, the same had been set at the Criterion Hotel and Bruce’s Hotel, while two nights later the Somerset Hotel was added to the list. The goal of the attacks was believed to create chaos. By setting fires at multiple points across the borough, the arsonist ensured the town’s small pool of residents would be too thinly stretched to save them all. 

While the Criterion, Bruce’s, and Somerset hotels were all targeted, our focus is on Waeckerle’s Hotel. There, the fire took hold quickly, and thick smoke trapped guests on the upper floors. When the alarm finally broke, it was absolute chaos. A local constable ran through the streets yelling “Fire!” in what newspapers described as “stentorian tones” to wake the town. Children were passed through windows and evacuated into the street, while townspeople frantically smashed open doors to haul out furniture and fragile belongings before the wooden hotel collapsed into a pile of ash.

When a new building was commissioned, it was constructed from thick brick finished with a sturdy plaster façade, completely rejecting the wooden structures that had been popular up until that time. It was a deliberate and practical choice. When it reopened just nine months later in May 1883, the establishment didn’t just change materials, it upgraded its entire identity. It reopened as “Waeckerle’s New Grand Commercial Hotel”, a title eventually shortened to simply the Grand Hotel.

#dailyat6am, Akaroa, Aotearoa, Banks Peninusla, Wild Horses

Visiting Takapuneke Reserve

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Daily Photo – Visiting Takapuneke Reserve

On my last full day in Akaroa I went to Takapuneke Reserve, located on the hillside at the eastern end of the town. I’d read that it had been identified as a site of national significance and, where once it was the location of a bloody massacre in the 1830s, it has since been declared tapu and is being transformed into a place of healing and learning through a partnership between Ōnuku Rūnanga and Christchurch City Council.

I arrived on an overcast day with a cool breeze drifting up from the bay. Looking around, I had the place to myself, along with its quietly sculptural landscape and walking trails. It was all extremely peaceful, with a backdrop that couldn’t help but put you into a calm, serene mood.

I stood looking out across the surroundings and admired how pleasant and well thought out the whole place seemed. Certainly a far cry from the scenes that graced the hillside in 1830, when smoke, gunfire, and violence tore through Takapuneke in an event that would leave deep scars on both the land and the history of Aotearoa.

Akaroa, Banks Peninusla, South Island, Wild Horses

The Akaroa Britomart Monument

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Daily Photo – The Akaroa Britomart Monument

Akaroa was quite lovely in the morning sunshine. Beyond the town, out in the bay, sailboats drifted casually on a slow-moving tide, and in the still, clear air the rolling green hills of Banks Peninsula rose up, still partly wrapped in clouds that seemed reluctant to lift. I walked into town and carried on through the bays to the Akaroa Lighthouse, then followed a path that traced the contours of the shoreline for another kilometre until I came to a sign that read “Britomart Monument”. The track headed up into the bush, and so did I, beneath a thick canopy of trees. I’d read somewhere that at the end of the track, out toward Green’s Point, there’s a monument marking one of those small but pivotal moments in our history: the raising of the British flag to signal the arrival of HMS Britomart in 1840. It doesn’t sound like much at first, a ship arriving, a flag going up. But that simple act carried weight. It was a sign to any approaching French ships and hopeful colonists that the South Island, at least in the eyes of the Crown, was already spoken for.

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#dailyat6am, Akaroa, Canterbury, South Island, Wild Horses

Akaroa War Memorial

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Daily Photo – Akaroa War Memorial

When at last I arrived in Akaroa, I checked in at the Grand Central Hotel, where I was booked for several nights. I dropped my bags on the bed, had a quick rummage around the room, then headed straight back out onto the main street for a wander.

It was late afternoon, that in-between hour when the hospitality world quietly shifts from day to evening. Tables were being cleared, chairs nudged into place, menus swapped over, and family groups gathered on corners, pointing in various directions as they tried, with mixed success, to agree on dinner.

At the end of Rue Lavaud the shops gave way, replaced by a large garden reserve. At its centre stands the Akaroa war memorial, surrounded by benches and carefully tended gardens. Rising from the middle is an elaborate, free-standing cupola, complete with a granite spire and flying buttresses, proudly displaying the names of those remembered from war. As far as war memorials go, it’s a rather impressive one, the sort of structure that seems to have been designed with great confidence and then left to quietly get on with the job ever since.

#dailyat6am, Akaroa, Canterbury, New Zealand, South Island, Wild Horses

Akaroa Farmers Market

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Daily Photo – Zed’s Shed at the Akaroa Farmers Market

The first morning I was in Akaroa, the farmers’ market was on, so I took the opportunity to stop in for a slow wander around the various stalls. There’s something about a small-town market that feels instantly reassuring. The trestle tables, the hum of polite conversation, the scent of baking and coffee drifting through the cool coastal air. It’s less about what you buy and more about the ritual of being there.

While I was making my unhurried circuit, I stopped at a food truck called Zed’s Shed and ordered a bacon butty for brunch. It arrived wrapped in paper, warm in the hands, unapologetically simple yet delivered with flair. And I must say, it was very good. So good, in fact, that I briefly considered going back for a second. I stood there weighing up the decision with the seriousness of a man facing a life choice. In the end, however, my need for coffee proved greater than my appetite, so I set off in search of caffeine.

#dailyat6am, #fromtheroad, Akaroa, Travels in small-town New Zealand, Wild Horses

The Wreck of the Cutter The Brothers

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Daily Photo – Akaroa Lighhouse

When the small cutter The Brothers entered Akaroa Harbour on 10 November 1842, it was the end of a long and important trip. Captained by a man named James Bruce, the ship had been at sea for eight weeks, navigating uncharted, rocky coastlines and battling subantarctic conditions beyond Stewart Island and Foveaux Strait – mapping harbours, landmarks and whaling stations around the South Island. As the trip came to an end, the final leg of the journey was scheduled to sail to Wellington, after calling in at Akaroa Harbour. As had happened on so many occasions, the cutter was due to drop anchor so some of the eleven passengers could disembark and supplies could be collected before the final run to Wellington began. With charts, maps, field books, instruments and survey records on board, the trip had been a success and had gathered a wide range of information that was going to be used to map future settlements for the New Zealand Company, who were promoting colonisation at the time.

Entering Akaroa Harbour, the vessel was suddenly hit by a squall blowing off the hills, capsizing the ship, turning her keel up and, in the process, destroying all the records, maps and plans that had been meticulously collected on the two month voyage. Upon sinking, most of the people on board were able to scramble into the small lifeboat, but a woman and two children, caught below deck when the cutter rolled, were not so fortunate.

#dailyat6am, #fromtheroad, Akaroa, South Island, Travels in small-town New Zealand, Wild Horses

Akaroa in Afternoon Sunshine

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Daily Photo – Akaroa in Afternoon Sunshine

By the time I’d made my way down through the hills of Banks Peninsula back to Akaroa township, the weather was starting to clear. Eventually, the misty, heavy cloud cover gave way to bright sunshine. The bays sparkled as the entire area seemingly came to life in the warm afternoon light.

I strolled through bays with names like Children’s, French, and finally, Glen. Filled with boats and wharfs, the harbor was a hive of quiet activity; tourist cruises came and went, and sightseeing tours disappeared around the point at the far end of Glen Bay, the gateway to the wider harbour and, eventually, the Pacific Ocean. I strolled and strolled, my pace matching the slow-natured feeling of the afternoon. Near the Akaroa Lighthouse, I found a weathered wooden bench overlooking the calm, blue water. I watched the town’s colonial charm sharpen under the clarity of the light. The white timber cottages, with their bright trim, looked like something out of a storybook set against the dramatic, emerald-green backdrop of the surrounding hills.

#dailyat6am, #fromtheroad, Akaroa, Banks Peninusla, Wild Horses

Jetty at Akaroa

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Daily Photo – Jetty at Akaroa

The pace of the journey dropped to a crawl. After the slow grind over the hills, I’d imagined myself arriving in the early evening to bright sunshine. I pictured it settling into a long, warm evening where the last of the tranquil summer light would linger before fading as night crept in. My plan was simple: sit in a warm garden bar, eat well, enjoy a few beers, and stumble to bed – tired but content.

Instead, what sunshine there was, had disappeared for the day, replaced by a brisk wind and heavy overhead clouds that threatened rain. It had been a long day, and I arrived in Akaroa feeling slightly disappointed with the weather. I dumped my bags in my hotel room, ate in a nearby restaurant, and retired to bed, still looking forward to exploring the town in what would surely be a sunny summer’s day.