GERMAN GEORGE RETURNS
by Erika Grundmann

Ten years after his return to Europe in July 1919 aboard the s.s. Willochra along with more than four hundred other Somes Island internees, George Dibbern was married, the father of three little girls and at the end of his rope. The Germany that he had returned to was not a welcoming place. His many attempts at finding employment or starting up a business (never a problem for him in New Zealand) had failed. In 1929 he had moved the family to Berlin, where he felt his wife Elisabeth's artwork and his own stories of life in New Zealand would bring them much needed income. But things had gone from bad to worse, and now he was a relief worker. Wouldn't his family be better off without him?

Back in 1925, when all he managed to save of his investment in a small boat building operation was the hull of a 10 metre Baltic double-ender, George was hospitalized after being hit by a motor vehicle. His doctor, on learning that he had lived in New Zealand, had given him a book entitled Vom Kulturreich des Meeres (The Cultural Realm of the Sea). As George later wrote in his own book, Quest, the Polynesian mythology he knew so well from New Zealand was "ably interpreted for the German mind. [...] The whole book inspired me, and in it my wife and I found the name of the boat". Te Rapunga: the third step in the Maori creation myth. This early stage between darkness and light, the first stirrings of the vital force, was presented as "longing".Sir Peter H. Buck in The Coming of the Maori, referred to it as "seeking". Both interpretations reflected Dibbern's frustration. Already Elisabeth had recognized her husband's restless nature; she had vowed that all earnings from her intricate scissor cuts would go to outfitting Te Rapunga, and that George eventually would again sail to New Zealand, would once more visit Mother Rangi.

While in Quest George describes his decision as spontaneous, it was only the timing of his departure that was sudden. A fellow relief worker's challenge of "...why don't you go in your bathtub of a sailboat ... and conquer the world?" set him thinking. He had sunk so low, the constant struggle to make ends meet had put an unbearable strain on the marriage -- his family's circumstances could only improve if he left. Friends and social services would take better care of them than he had been able to. He would sail to New Zealand where Mother Rangi would help. He would get himself established then bring out the family.

It was not an easy parting, and as Elisabeth regularly insisted, this was the only inaccurately depicted episode in George's book. She herself had encouraged him in his vision of a return to New Zealand, had worked toward this goal. Moreover, with his "red" socialist views, which he made no effort to hide, it was just a matter of time before he would be in serious trouble with the authorities. This was the moment: he had to go.

George was 41 years old when he left Berlin at the end of May in 1930. In Kiel he found Te Rapunga sadly in need of attention, requiring money he didn't have. Since he was in debt to his nephew Günter Schramm, who as a result owned a significant part of Te Rapunga, George offered him the experience of a lifetime: a sailing trip to New Zealand. The money problem was partially resolved by the signing on of his friend Albrecht von Fritsch (who had published some of Dibbern's stories) and Albrecht's divorcée sister, Dorothea, with the generous crocodile purse. Te Rapunga finally set sail in mid-August of 1930.

The trip to New Zealand is fully described in Quest. Albrecht did not stay long. Dorothea came and went, came again, and left again. In order to keep Te Rapunga afloat, Dibbern took on paying passengers and sailed wherever they wished, mostly in the balmy Mediterranean—while Elisabeth and the girls struggled in the cold of Berlin. Much of Quest deals with Dibbern's self-recrimination, soul searching and pursuit of meaning in life, meaning in his life.

Te Rapunga finally sailed into Devonport, whence she was towed into Auckland, on March 8, 1934. George wasn't the first Dibbern to sail to the shores of New Zealand: in 1881 his father, commander of the schooner Wagrain, had docked in Dunedin. Like his father, George had been away from home for almost four years. More significantly, he had been away from New Zealand for fifteen.

Little was the same as George remembered. His friend Hugo Hildebrandt, known locally as "Hildy", had become a successful businessman and respected citizen of Napier. The welcome he extended to George was warm, certainly, but his values were different. George found his Maori friends, too, had changed: all had European names; the Maori lands had been divided and sold; they had lost their Maori ways which had so endeared them to him. The cruelest blow of all, however, was news that Rangi Rangi Paewai had died in 1928—even before he had left Germany.

In the four years since his departure, Elisabeth and the girls had made a life, albeit of modest means, for themselves. They were not prepared to give up what little they had for the nothing that George could now offer. On the other hand, as Elisabeth wrote in May of that year "...I fear that in this new Germany your queer mentality would find no place". There was no turning back. There was no way forward. The invitation to participate in the Trans-Tasman Race provided a welcome diversion.

When they first arrived in Auckland, Dibbern and Schramm were made honorary members of the Akarana Yacht Club. The time till the Trans-Tasman Race was thus filled with participating in local regattas and cruises with additional crew from the Yacht Club. Coromandel. Great Barrier Island. Gisborne. Napier. Much needed repairs back in Devonport. Günter and George lived off the generosity of New Zealanders who were welcoming and admiring of these adventurers in a time when off-shore sailing in small boats was noteworthy. George, whose unaccustomed German accent added to the mystique of his adventurous spirit, earned a little extra by giving talks at clubs, schools and on the radio. He was a spell-binding raconteur who captivated, among others, the young Napier woman, Eileen Morris.

On hearing George recount his adventures at sea over the radio, Eileen was overcome with envy. It had always been her dream to travel, but she saw only a future as a stenographer in some stuffy office. She convinced her friend, Cara, to accompany her to the wharf to "just look". Te Rapunga was a welcoming vessel and the moment Eileen stepped through the hatchway, she was hooked. George recognized how she was drawn to the boat, how immediately at home she appeared. It was after tea that the subject of the girls joining the crew for a sail to Gisborne, was raised. Of course Eileen wanted to go —but of course she couldn't. It simply wasn't done.

The Trans-Tasman Race was scheduled to begin the afternoon of Saturday, December 8 from the Akarana Yacht Club. The distance was reported as 1630 miles. The destination, in honour of her centenary, was Melbourne. Only Ngataki and Te Rapunga took part, two rovers' boats with no fancy sails and equipment. "The sea is still the kingdom of the vagabond," the New Zealand Herald quoted Dibbern.

Ngataki's crew consisted of her Captain, John Wray, and crew Geoff Wray, Ron Hunt, Merv Robinson and "Buster" Graham. Dibbern skippered Te Rapunga and her crew of Fred Norris, Noel Tattersfield, Austin Vaile and Günter Schramm, who tore himself away from Joe Nitschke's land (where Hugo Hildebrandt had arranged for him to satisfy his agricultural yearnings for a spell) and (unbeknownst to George) Joe's daughter, Muriel. The conditions at the start of the race were described in the December 10th New Zealand Herald as "boisterous" with "a strong easterly wind causing a short choppy sea". The article continued, politely condescending: "Both the ocean-going craft afforded a striking comparison with the pleasure yachts which sailed about them. Their sturdy masts and rigging and generally solid appearance made them distinctive in a scene of picturesque activity. Their speed also proved rather a revelation to many yachtsmen who were present. Carrying full sail, both yachts had their lee rails well down and covered a lot of ground in manoeuvring before the start."

Despite the 44 hours Te Rapunga lost when she unexpectedly began to take on water, and put into Russell for repairs, she was the first to arrive in Melbourne, on the December 27th. With the 17 hours handicap she had to concede to Ngataki, she was not declared winner of the race till 7 o'clock the following morning. Ngataki finally made port around midnight of the 28th. There followed days of celebration, and then the decision to race to the Royal Hobart Regatta. On the afternoon of January 22nd this second contest began casually with a boisterous departure from the bar, some time around 6:30 p.m., when both yachts, amidst cheers and reluctant farewells, started out on the 460 mile race across the Bass Strait.

Te Rapunga's arrival in Hobart on January 28th provided reason enough for the celebrations to begin. Ngataki's arrival three days later was reason for them to continue. Responding to a toast at the Regatta Luncheon, in the presence of Tasmanian celebrities, George said that he brought greetings, not only from his own country, but from every country which he had passed on his voyaging. He added that the sea had no boundaries, that the sailor knew neither creed, colour nor nationality, and he hoped that his visit to Hobart might do a little to weld together the people of different countries in a true friendship. Dibbern's role in life had begun to take shape.

Ngataki redeemed her pride in winning the regatta races in Hobart. Both Wray and Dibbern were in demand as guest speakers. Both were interviewed on the radio. While George by now felt comfortable, this was a new experience for Johnny, which he later described in his book South Sea Vagabonds. A month later, however, Te Rapunga pulled herself away from all the attention of Hobart and headed back to New Zealand. No sooner did she make port when Günter raced off to marry Muriel, with whom he settled in Tasmania.

George now had to face his own future. The idea of being a bridge of friendship, which had first come to mind while he stood at Mother Rangi's grave side and which he had begun to implement during the months in Australia, now became his mission. Te Rapunga would become a boat of friendship offering would-be sailors the opportunity to visit faraway places and to meet people of different cultures, to become goodwill ambassadors of sorts—and to have a good time in the process. This was the way to break down barriers: on an individual level.

That summer of 1935, Dibbern assembled a new crew for an extended cruise of friendship to wherever the spirit would lead them. This time when he invited Eileen Morris to join, she did not hesitate for a moment. She had had plenty of time to consider her reasons for refusing in the first place, to, as she would later write, "sort out [her] sense of values". Going on the trip was far more important to her than worrying about the opinions of people who judged her by surface evidence only. She did not intend to be told what to do for the rest of her life. She would leap into the unknown.

The other new crew members were Roy Murdock, a young journalist who quit his job at the Poverty Bay Herald of Gisborne and Maurice Black, also of Gisborne, who gave up his position at the Agricultural Department there. The movements of Dibbern and Te Rapunga were still of interest to New Zealanders and when it was reported that a young Napier woman was going to sail on a yacht with three men, none of whom was a husband nor father nor brother nor even a cousin, the outcry was immediate.

While most people who knew Eileen were supportive, many citizens of Napier were appalled. Nasty letters were sent to her home. George, too, received letters suggesting he be horsewhipped and driven from the country for leading an innocent girl astray. He insisted that a hall be rented in Napier, and on the evening of July 29th, he appeared with Eileen before an audience, to clear the air, to show his sincerity and to explain his mission of freedom and friendship, to explain that the decision to join the crew had been Eileen's alone and that having reached the age of twenty-one, she had been handed the key to her own life—the decision was hers to make.

Te Rapunga left Auckland on August 18, 1935. During the time she was away from New Zealand, she became the vessel of friendship that George Dibbern had envisioned. She acquired a new flag he designed representing his philosophy of friendship and the right of each person to evolve according to his or her individuality. The manuscript for what would become Quest was dictated and typed. A notarized passport of his own creation, declaring himself a Citizen of the World, replaced Dibbern's German passport. Since Maurice Black had returned to New Zealand well before Te Rapunga arrived in Canada, and as Roy Murdock left the sailing life and settled to become assistant editor of The Daily Colonist in Victoria, British Columbia, it was only George and Eileen who returned to New Zealand and, after six and a half years of roaming, sailed unannounced into Napier that stormy morning of January 24, 1941.

"With Nazi Master, Girl as Crew, Ship blithely enters NZ Port" screamed one newspaper headline. The authorities did not quite know how to handle Dibbern's flag and passport. They undoubtedly would have been more understanding in peace time. While there was no evidence of spy activity (Te Rapunga had neither motor nor radio) the public reaction was such that they felt they had no choice. As David McGill points out in The Guardians at the Gate, the ketch Te Rapunga was the first New Zealand port seizure of the war. Two weeks later George Dibbern was back on Somes Island where he remained till the internment camp was closed on October 10, 1945. It was during this time that Dibbern's book Quest (New York: W.W. Norton, 1941 and London: John Lane, 1941) was released attracting the attention of the American author, Henry Miller, whose correspondence and friendship with George began while Dibbern was still an internee. Te Rapunga spent the duration of the war in Napier. It was December 1946 before George Dibbern (who throughout the years of separation kept in touch with his family in Germany) was granted full freedom to sail again.

Erika Grundmann © 2001