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Spongebob
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One of the ancestry websites had a free search opportunity a week or two ago so I logged in Dad's name.
Up it came with name , age ,date of death , name of widow etc but an entry below caught my eye.

It was a police record that listed Dad as having appeared in the Whakatane district court in 1936 on a charge of fighting.
Verdict - Guilty , fined One Pound
Straight below is a male Maori name , about ten years younger, on the same charge.
Verdict - Guilty , fined ten shillings.
I cannot find the site again but it will be there somewhere.
It reminds me that Dad did mention this event many years ago and the cir***stances were due to the fact that in those days the licensing laws allowed Maoris to drink in a pub but they were not allowed to buy bottle beer to take away.
Most Maoris got around it by getting a Pakeha mate to buy beer for them and according to Dad it was a case of mistaken identity whereby the Maori accosted him as he left the Whakatane pub and asked where his bottles of beer were. Dad denied knowing him or having been asked to do such a thing and a fight ensued Probably as a Bobby walked down the street.
So there we have it, a blot on the family name in print from the deep past , about a man highly respected as a father and by his community .
His mother , born and bred in Victorian times and who insisted that bare feet should only be seen in the bedroom and that table clothes should have enough overhand to hide the table's upper legs , would have been mortified at such news . I can imagine here clutching her smelling salts even now.
My older and younger sisters , both now sadly deceased, would have been upset at the news but we surviving four male siblings are having a good laugh.
A bit of inequality too, what with the Maori getting the lesser fine!

Bob
 

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Pa reckoned one was not grown-up until one had spent a night in the cells.

However as a 'Gentlemen' he did expect us to be banged up in Vine Street rather than a peasant lock-up. The offence too would have weighed heavily. Knocking off a copper's helmet and resisting arrest is in a different category to theft (perhaps the Yanks have it right 'offences of Moral Turpitude'). Pa's summons from the Senior Proctor for the first pair of offence above was framed and hung on the wall until it faded.
 

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Bob, look up pages past and you may get a lot more, as my grand father had a passion for nicking candle stick holders from certain churches around NZ which was never mention when I was growing up but found on pages past when looking for history of my great grandfather, and no we didn't move from Australia to NZ just in case you think we shipped there first!
 

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Every family has 'skeletons in the cupboard'; there's no point in feeling guilt or embarrassment about what someone else chose to do in their life. You are in charge of your ship, not theirs.
 

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My great Grandad was hung for sheep rustling at the age of 29 y-o way back when.
My Grandfather did the honorable thing and became a butcher and over time owned his own shop in the same town as his father was hung ................ apparently he made and sold his own mint sauce which he proudly displayed in the same outlet at 2d a jar.
Evan today my own grandchildren relish lamp shanks when I cook them and reference the story.
 

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Arrgghh yes - darkened pasts times 3.
First - US Navy base Mayport Florida 1965. We were the first Oz warship to visit and the wharf-side reception they gave us was something to behold. Admirals, mayor, chiefs of police and fire services plus a brass band. Welcoming speeches all around. Also about 20 odd girls from some beauty contest complete with bikinis, high heels, sashes and arms loads of gladiolas. We even had a bunch of them down the boiler room - the flowers unfortunately, not the girls.
Wow ! They love us here. The elation only lasted until the bar room fight that evening and about 15 of us got locked up in the Jacksonville slammer overnight.
It must have been the Yanks that started it. We were much too urbane.
Anyway - we upheld the stoker's adage when going ashore ; A fight, a f**k, or a feed - whichever comes first.
Second ; We pulled into San Diego a few months later. Down to Tijuana for a night in their salubrious lock-up. Pretty much a variation on a theme from Mayport.
And thirdly ; Kings Cross / Sydney. After a heavy night on the turps I was groping my way, complete with tub of take-away chicken cacciatore, back to the the ship. Some yobbo bumped into me resulting in my chicken/c all over the footpath. His fault of course - I was walking straight ! Couldn't let that go unchallenged and the resultant fisticuffs had me in handcuffs and off to Darlinghurst gaol. Into the dry-out cell with 5 other over indulgers all scrapping over the only blanket on a freezing night. Now that's where you learn to be a good fighter. The magistrate held an 0700 session so that us sailors could get back to our ships on time. $5 in the poor box and no offence recorded
How on earth did I make it into my 70's ?
 

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When, thanks to the inability of the two Ks to play nicely together, I became an RAF officer cadet, it was made abundantly clear that brawling was a sacking offence.
Actually DID have a litle 'misunderstanding' with three guys in the cadet mess one night but, fortunately, although a window was inadvertently broken, I don't think the matter ever came to the ears of our flight commander. Phew!
 

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Arrgghh yes - darkened pasts times 3.
First - US Navy base Mayport Florida 1965. We were the first Oz warship to visit and the wharf-side reception they gave us was something to behold. Admirals, mayor, chiefs of police and fire services plus a brass band. Welcoming speeches all around. Also about 20 odd girls from some beauty contest complete with bikinis, high heels, sashes and arms loads of gladiolas. We even had a bunch of them down the boiler room - the flowers unfortunately, not the girls.
Wow ! They love us here. The elation only lasted until the bar room fight that evening and about 15 of us got locked up in the Jacksonville slammer overnight.
It must have been the Yanks that started it. We were much too urbane.
Anyway - we upheld the stoker's adage when going ashore ; A fight, a f**k, or a feed - whichever comes first.
Second ; We pulled into San Diego a few months later. Down to Tijuana for a night in their salubrious lock-up. Pretty much a variation on a theme from Mayport.
And thirdly ; Kings Cross / Sydney. After a heavy night on the turps I was groping my way, complete with tub of take-away chicken cacciatore, back to the the ship. Some yobbo bumped into me resulting in my chicken/c all over the footpath. His fault of course - I was walking straight ! Couldn't let that go unchallenged and the resultant fisticuffs had me in handcuffs and off to Darlinghurst gaol. Into the dry-out cell with 5 other over indulgers all scrapping over the only blanket on a freezing night. Now that's where you learn to be a good fighter. The magistrate held an 0700 session so that us sailors could get back to our ships on time. $5 in the poor box and no offence recorded
How on earth did I make it into my 70's ?
Very similar to my seagoing career, and mine culminated in a mass brawl in Las Palmas between the crews of Empress of Britain, Queen Mary and T&J Harrison's Barrister, and the local hard cases down the main drag.

15 of us off the Britain and the Barrister were nabbed by the local caribinieri and incarcerated overnight in one stinking cell in the local lock up.
We all appeared in court the next morning and were heavily fined, and those of us off the Britain ended up, covered in blood and snot, on a plane to Tenerife, where she had sailed to, that day.
Logged two days pay, I owed the ship big time and had to do another trip to pay off my debts.
(K)
 
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