The day was bright, clear and crisp and I had every intention of enjoying the sunshine for as long as I could. I parked my car near an art sculpture called ‘Harbour Mouth Molars.’ It’s one of those permanent art installations that city councils fund which locals either love or hate. Personally, I love them however where local opinion is concerned, I am very much in the minority. On this occasion, the harbour was as still as a mill pond and looked quite delicious as I took in the views of the Upper Harbour. I ambled through the mostly empty streets until I came to a section of wharf called the Steamer Basin. Located right beside the railway lines on the eastern edge of the main business district, it was here that cargo was once loaded, unloaded and passed through the Customs Department Wharf Office. Thus, showing the importance of the area as a transit point between markets in the first decade of the twentieth century.
A few families were scattered along the wharf, fishing and enjoying the sunshine and so I joined them in ambling along the dock. I had come to see the memorial to HMS Neptune. The HMS Neptune was a British cruiser in World War 2 and was assigned, along with the 150 New Zealanders on board, to the New Zealand Naval Squadron which was in the Pacific. In early December the HMS Neptune headed to the Mediterranean to replace naval losses suffered during the Crete campaign. On the night of the 18th December, 1941 the HMS Neptune intercepted an Italian supply convoy headed for Tripoli. She then proceeded to enter an uncharted minefield where after striking several mines she sank, taking all but one of the 764 people on board with her. Of those 763 personnel who died (including all 150 New Zealanders), 20 were from Otago. To this day, it remains New Zealand’s worst naval tragedy.
Now, a memorial stands at Steamer Basin to honour those from Otago who went down with the HMS Neptune. It’s also a delightful spot to stand and watch the world pass by on a sunny Dunedin day. At a nearby pontoon, a family were having a lovely time fishing. Every so often they would reel in their lines and eagerly check the hook before recasting out into the water. They did seem to be enjoying themselves. Every so often someone would stop and chat to them before venturing off into the sunshine along the wharf. Further on, the same scene was being played out at various spots all around the basin, while every so often a cyclist would whizz past looking very serious. Why is it that cyclists always look so serious? I understand why people might choose to cycle instead of owning a car, however they always look like they are suffering extreme torture. Take the Tour De France for example, or any famous bike race for that matter. Can you honestly tell me, any of them look like they’re getting the slightest bit of pleasure from what they’re doing? I made a mental note of this and decided I would try and spot cyclists who actually looked happy, on the rest of my walk into town. With that thought in mind, I headed for the city centre.