‘Thanks Matt.’ She returned his smile. ‘Shall we head back?’
He stood and reached down to help her up. For the second time that evening, Aimee and Matthew were connected. As she took his hand, electric shocks ran through his body. Matt had never felt like this before. He wanted the night to last forever. He wanted to hold her forever. She walked back to the hotel holding his hand the whole way. He floated. As they said goodnight, Aimee leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek, thanking him for being so understanding. It might never be washed again. He told her he would sit in the lounge bar for a while, and watched her ascend the stairs as gracefully as she had arrived. When she disappeared out of sight, he walked out of the hotel and across the ever-cooling golf course. It took him forever to find his jacket.
CHAPTER 26
Saturday, October 2, 1526
We have not reached the Moluccas, but we have sighted land! A lot of it. It lay directly in front of us on our wind-forced south-westerly heading. We approached closer, but kept a safe distance from the coast, being unsure about reefs and having sighted natives on the headland. We were becalmed and used the opportunity to collect a good bounty from the sea under the watchful eyes of the natives. The wind having picked up, we have tacked to the north and will follow the coast for a few days and see what we can find. We are in need of fresh water and it would be good to get vegetables or fruit if we can find a suitable harbour. It is very exciting to be here. I think this land may be the edge of Terra Australis. My quadrant suggests that we are somewhere around 38 degrees south.
Friday, October 8, 1526
After five leagues of northerly coasting, we followed a large cape around to the west. The coast then sunk to the south-west in what appeared to be a huge bay. However, a pillar of smoke directly to the west drew my attention and so I had the master steer us towards it. As we got closer, it became apparent that there was an island in the middle of the bay, an erupting volcano. These are unpredictable and so I ordered a change of course to the south, to the coast again, about eleven leagues away. Due south from the volcano, we found a safe harbour and have anchored there yesterday. The fishing is good and fresh water in plentiful supply. Because our sweet potato plants are suffering, we have planted them here and hope to return to collect the vegetable at a later time. Some men ventured a short distance into the thick forested hills, but returned without fruit. They did manage to capture some birds and they collected the eggs of these. They have made a tasty treat. The exploration party report no sighting of any natives.
We will stay here for a few days to replenish our supplies and energy. Then we will set off on our continued exploration of the coast to the west.
CHAPTER 27
Te Papa Museum of New Zealand loomed over them. Matt stood with Aimee in a large open plaza. The museum was modern and attractive. To the left, it was a large curvy stone structure, to the right the building was composed of triangular structures of stone and glass. The entrance fell between them and was a large wall of glass. Inside, the building was just as airy as it appeared from outside.
Matt asked a guide where they would find the Spanish Helmet.
‘Oh, you mean the Iron helmet,’ the guide said, after checking in a computer terminal. ‘Item number ME000841. It’s part of the Taonga Maori collection. You’ll find it here.’ He made a little circle on a map and handed it to Matt.
They made their way through groups of school children and tourists until they located the correct room and stood in front of a glass cabinet containing the helmet.
‘I’m going to have to believe them that it’s Spanish,’ Aimee said. ‘I’m no expert.’
‘It’s in fairly good condition, considering it spent so much time in the water.’
‘Actually,’ Aimee said, pointing at the information plaque under the helmets display cabinet. ‘It says here it can’t have spent long in the water. Here, let me read this out loud.’
She crouched down in front of the cabinet and started reading.
‘An iron helmet dated to 1580 and previously thought to be Spanish was found in Wellington Harbour some time before 1904. It has since been repeatedly cited as evidence of European contact with New Zealand prior to Abel Tasman in 1642. It is a ‘close helmet.’ Though the style is European, it is not necessarily Spanish. It could have been made in England or northern Italy. Its state of preservation suggests it was immersed in seawater for only a short time. It shows no signs of marine encrustation, although it could have been cleaned. Archival material in the Museum shows that so little is known about the helmet that it cannot be used as evidence of European contact with New Zealand before Tasman. The helmet may have been used as ship’s ballast — obsolete armour was often used this way. It may have been a souvenir brought out by an immigrant. The helmet may have also been given as a presentation piece or as trade to local Maori in much the same way as armour was presented to Hongi Hika, Titore, and a sword to Te Rauparaha. The helmet was first recorded in the museum’s collections in 1904– 1905. It has been dated to approximately 1580 and is of a type known as a close helmet. Close helmets were used in the sixteenth century. There’s no evidence to suggest Te Papa’s helmet is actually of Spanish origin. It is not known when or how the museum acquired the helmet. It was recorded as ‘found in Wellington Harbour.’
‘Do all New Zealand museums document their artefacts so poorly?’ Matt said, taking his camera out of its pouch and taking a few photos.
‘It’s not well written, is it? I don’t think I understand. They are saying it’s not Spanish and it didn’t spend long in the water.’
‘Apparently.’
‘Then where has it been since 1580?’ Aimee asked.
‘Can I help you perhaps?’
The voice from behind them made Matt spin around on his heels.
‘Is there some further information I can offer about the helmet?’ the prim looking museum attendant asked.
‘Do you know much about it?’ Matt asked, lifting his camera again to get a shot from another angle.
‘Of course, but first, I must ask you if you’re aware of our photography policy.’
Matt lowered his camera. ‘Sorry, is it against the rules?’
‘No, no. For personal use it’s fine, but you can’t use the images commercially or publish them anywhere. I’m sorry, as a curator it’s my job to make sure you know.’
‘You’re the curator?’ Matt asked.
‘Of this collection, yes, which is why I can tell you some more about this helmet. What would you like to know?’
Matt was impressed. She was young, attractive, and clearly well accomplished to be a curator at such an important museum. She also seemed to be genuine about helping.
‘There appears to be a lot of confusion about when the helmet was found, and what sort of helmet it is,’ he said.
‘The problem,’ the Curator said, ‘is that two reports were made about the helmet find. Originally, the director of the Colonial Museum recorded the helmet in 1904. He said it wasn’t known when it was found, but it was found in Wellington Harbour. Then an ethnologist wrote a report sometime in the forties or fifties which said the helmet was found in 1926 or 1927.’
‘Why’d he do that?’
‘No one knows. But it’s possible that he didn’t have access to the original record and, in discovering that the Wellington Harbour was dredged in the twenties, decided it must have been found then. His dates are wrong though. We know that.’
‘So is that where the whole theory of it being dredged out of the harbour comes from?’
