FROM HALF A WORLD AWAY
by Erika Grundmann

"Welcome to Canada!" Though the R. Tucker Thompson had been in Canada for a couple of weeks, that was all I could think to say.

We had watched her sail into Port Alberni the previous evening. Of all the ships that were participating in this west coast Tall Ships Festival of 2005, the New Zealand based Tucker, the ship featured as the logo for the Alberni event, was the one I most wanted to visit. The crush of the day’s visitors had subsided with the no boarding after 6:00 p.m. policy. "I have a connection with New Zealand," I continued, and held out my Auckland-
published book as my calling card. "Come aboard," invited Jane. "Can I get you a beer?" I’d expect nothing less from a Kiwi, was my unspoken thought—particularly after having heard from one of the festival volunteers that on their previous visit to Port Alberni, in 2002, the Kiwis had just about drunk the city dry! This had been said in jest, of course.

I learned from Jane Hindle that she and her husband Geoff, the business managers of the Tucker, had flown up to the BC Tall Ships Festivals for a holiday, combining business with pleasure. Though for the past several weeks the weather had been unseasonably cool and rainy, Jane insisted it was the Tucker that had sent the clouds scudding over the horizon on her arrival in Port Alberni. I was not about to dispute that—warm sunshine was a welcome change under any circumstances.

The sight of an unusual flag snapping in the wind caught my attention. I was pleased that I recognized it as the koru flag designed by the late Friedensreich Hundertwasser, the flag representing for this transplanted Austrian that which "was genuinely and indigenously New Zealand and which couldn’t be mistaken for that of other countries", namely the coiled fern—the koru—shown in the natural green of the New Zealand bush, on a long white-cloud background.

With this flag, I recalled, Hundertwasser had in 1983 hoped to depict an assertion of the national pride of his adopted land, a representation of "the grown-up confidence of the country", by concentrating not on the Maori nor the Pakeha past but rather the time before even the Maori had arrived in New Zealand—namely the natural heritage of New Zealand.

It was also Hundertwasser’s intention that the koru flag be seen as symbolizing New Zealand’s commitment to a wholesome planetary environment. This is the case with the Tucker’s use of the flag. In the words of Jane Hindle, "We are an environmentally conscious ship and were the first ship to make the decision to head to Murorua to protest against French nuclear testing. It is also a flag that Northlanders feel represents their area and we are proudly Northlanders."

Though New Zealanders are not ready to part with their current flag, the flying of the koru flag along with the official ensign is tolerated.

This, of course, got me thinking about our own Canadian flag, flying equally smartly from the R. Tucker Thompson. I recalled the controversy in the mid 1960s when then Prime Minister Lester B. Pearson decided Canada had to have her own flag in time for her centenary in 1967. For the longest time I hadn’t realized that previous attempts to create a fully Canadian flag had been initiated as far back as 1925, and again in 1946.

Like the koru, our maple leaf represents the time well before the coming of European settlers as Canada’s aboriginal peoples had long ago discovered the nutritive properties of maple sap which they gathered every spring. According to many historians, the maple leaf began to serve as a Canadian symbol as early as 1700.

Though it was not without considerable controversy, Canadian pride won out and the flag of today, with the single, stylized maple leaf, and the red and white which had been approved as Canada's official colours in the proclamation of the royal arms of Canada in 1921, was inaugurated on February 15, 1965 to the words "The flag is the symbol of the nation's unity, for it, beyond any doubt, represents all the citizens of Canada without distinction of race, language, belief or opinion."

The fact that a flag represents allegiance to a value system was instrumental, in an individual way, to George Dibbern, the subject of my book. Dibbern and his 32 foot ketch Te Rapunga, with which he’d sailed from Germany to New Zealand (1930-34), arrived in Canada from New Zealand on July 1, 1937, flying a flag of his own design (a blue star in the upper left corner, a centred blue circle over which was a red cross, on a white background) which to him symbolized the right of all individuals to live to their full potential within the family of humankind – and the blood shed to attain that right. This Dibbern did in defiance of a Nazi decree declaring the swastika the only acceptable German flag—and this he did in keeping with his personal beliefs.

A flag says a lot about individuals and about countries. And there were a lot of flags on display that day.

These thoughts passed through my mind as the brisk evening breeze funnelled up the inlet from the Pacific Ocean; and the American ships, Lady Washington and Lynx, under full sail staged a dramatic, mock gun battle; and the Mexican ship Cuauhtemoc held a posh reception... while Tucker’s British cook, Mark Glover, entertained us by singing the lyrics (with prompts from his laptop computer) of a sea shanty, in German—which we understood better than his spoken English! And now there’s a copy of Dark Sun: Te Rapunga and the Quest of George Dibbern aboard the good ship R. Tucker Thompson, and a Tucker T-shirt on my back. That’s what tall ships festivals are all about.

Oh, and the fact that the koru flag was flying upside down? Why, because the Tucker hails from downunder, I guess!

Erika Grundmann, Manson's Landing BC © July 2005