History
In 1885, following a Russian scare, two RML guns were mounted on Point Halswell in Wellington. The British guns were purchased by the New Zealand Government, but they were not built inside any kind of permanent concrete emplacement. By 1889, an 8-inch disappearing gun and a magazine, which was built on two levels, had replaced the older technology. The disappearing gun was said to have been the very latest in military hardware at the time. A second 6-pdr quick-fire gun was also installed above the emplacement to supplement the overall firepower. The total cost of the artillery defences, which included the weapons, emplacements, magazines and barracks, across New Zealand amounted to £160,000.
As it is now known, the Russians did not invade. The rumours about Russian ships loaded with men arriving undetected in New Zealand had always been a great source of fear, and this was escalated in the late 1800s due to Anglo-Russian rivalry in Afghanistan. After fortifying the coastline, though, the widespread panic and fear subsided considerably and the next wave of building and extending fortifications did not occur until the 1940s, during the Second World War after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbour.
As for Point Halswell. It served as battery until 1925. However, after the death of the Prime Minister, William Ferguson Massey (‘Farmer Bill’), who was well known for his rural interests and kindness, parliament passed the Massey Burial-ground Act. This dedicated 0.8 hectares of land for a burial site to the former Prime Minister and his widow, Christina. The site of the old Halswell fort was selected and quickly converted into a crypt, with the gun pit being lined with marble and granite to serve as an underground vault. The memorial was completed in September 1930 at a cost of £15,000, a sum that was raised mostly by public subscription, and unveiled by His Excellency the Governor-General, Lord Bledisloe. The memorial itself was designed by Samuel Hurst Seager, a notable builder, draftsman and town planner, and two Auckland architects, William Henry Gummer and Charles Reginald Ford. Unfortunately, Massey’s wife died in 1932, shortly after the completion of the memorial, so her body was promptly laid to rest beside the husband. Seager also died in 1933, meaning the memorial was one of his last projects that he witnessed being finished.
Originally, the tomb comprised a pyramid structure on top of the gun pit; however, this was removed during World War Two when the memorial grounds were used as Port War Signal Station. Some of the remains of this station can still be found on the hillside directly above Massey’s burial site. Some years after the war, the memorial site was registered as a Category I historic place by the New Zealand Historic Places Trust. As for the land itself, it has remained publicly accessible and is now a popular tourist destination.
However, we are not quite at the end of the history just yet. In 2010/2011, it was announced that a 13-tonne giant gun, similar to the one mounted on Point Halswell, was believed to have been rolled down the hill and buried in the 1970s. The public were warned not to go searching for it, as it was likely to be on land still owned by the military. The exact words of Ann Neill from the New Zealand Historic Places Trust were, “We don’t want people to jump in and become like Indiana Jones”. Of course, the gun was located a few years later after conservation experts found it partially exposed (a result of being dug out by the general public) while carrying out work on Watts Peninsula. The gun, which is one of only ten ever constructed, was raised and sent off for restoration.
Our Version of Events
Point Halswell battery has been on our to-do list for quite some time, but since it’s now a mausoleum it’s taken a fair bit of planning and several visits to actually get inside. On the day we decided to have a proper crack at it, we headed over to the Miramar Peninsula nice and early. This was to get a good scouting session in before we proceeded to do the business. We spent a wee while refining our plan and once satisfied we set off in search of nearby derps to kill some time as we waited for darkness to fall across Wellington. The cover of darkness was quite essential to the overall plan.
Before we knew it, it was time to get the ball-sacks out and gain some skills in grave infiltration. Forget ‘Place Hacking’ and ‘Recreational Trespass’ and all that nonsense, this is what it’s all about these days. We call it ‘GraveXplorationing’, ‘Grave-Splorin’ or ‘Corpse Hacking’. It’s going to catch on, especially when the Instagram Kids catch wind of it, and before you know it ‘urbex’ will be old news. Anyway, we’re digressing, so we’ll get back to the story. We parked up a fair way away from the site and then began the arduous slog up to the top of the cliff, where the memorial is located. The whole time we felt very much like grave robbers or body snatchers, even though our intentions were completely different. On this occasion, no jewels, gold bullion or bodies would be leaving the site – if we happened to find such things. It’s important to note that we don’t actually condone doing what we did. There’s no other way to put it, it’s bad and, in our book, pretty immoral. We certainly wouldn’t encourage people to do the same. Nevertheless, what is done is done so we might as well share a report as this place should forever be remembered.
At the top of the hill the wind was blowing a gale. This seemed great at first, since we figured the weather would keep people away from the exposed hilltop for the evening. In the end, though, it turned out to be more of a hindrance because we couldn’t hear whether people were walking up any of the three trails that lead to the memorial. Thankfully, only a couple of people happened to wander past us as we tried our best to look unsuspicious, and it must have worked since they barely even acknowledged us. For obvious reasons, we’re not going to go into detail about what happened next. All we can say is that, amazingly, we found a way inside the mausoleum after an hour and a half of standing around up there.
A great plume of dust erupted as we opened the first set of doors. Clearly they’d not been opened in a long time. Ahead was a long, dark, corridor that led slightly downhill towards a left-hand turn. This was one of the original bunker’s tunnels. We followed it very tentatively, feeling incredibly guilty the entire time that we were trespassing inside someone’s final resting place. None of us are into the ghosties and ghoulies, but on this occasion we did expect to find old Massey wandering down one of the corridors to tell us to fuck off. Our thoughts were quickly disrupted, however, when we reached a set of metal gates. They looked like the type that belong in a graveyard; indeed, they were very fitting for the setting. Fortunately, they didn’t pose much of a problem by way of access because it looked as though one of the many earthquakes had damaged the hinges enough that we could squeeze our way through them. Despite the obvious disadvantage of death, there are many advantages to exploring in earthquake zones.
Past the gates, we entered a large room lined with doors on either side. It was obviously part of the original bunker, but fancy-ish wooden doors have been fitted. This gives the place a very strange feeling. It felt mausoleum-like, but strange. To be perfectly honest, at this point it was starting to feel a bit like the film Outpost. Nevertheless, despite the weird atmosphere we proceeded to open each of the doors. Most of the rooms were empty, but one was filled with flowers – dating back to the day of Massey’s funeral in 1925 – and another with a hatch leading into the lower depths of the bunker. Only one of the doors didn’t open. No matter how much we tried, it wasn’t giving in. To this day, we don’t know what lies behind that door; although, we expect it’s empty.
Once we’d had a good look through all the doors and chambers in the first part of the bunker, we made our way through a second set of gates into another tunnel. This one led into the former gun pit that once housed a large disappearing gun. Today, though, it houses Massey and his wife. As we rounded the corner they quickly came into view. Thankfully, they’re both entombed inside a large marble vault, rather than lying on slabs or anything grim like that. The old gun pit chamber is now very different from how it originally looked of course since it’s now lined with a marble floor and wall panels. Directly above the Masseys there is also a large cross hanging from the ceiling. Out of respect, we didn’t stay for too long in this part of the old battery, and we only took a couple of shots. After that we turned around and left the Masseys in peace.
However, we couldn’t leave just yet. There was one more section of the bunker to check out and this lay beneath us. Finding our way back to the room with the hatch, we lifted the lid and descended an old metal ladder. It was a bit fucked and sounded like it was coming loose from the wall, but we managed to reach the bottom in one piece where we found ourselves stood inside a very tight corridor. We had two options from here, we could go straight ahead or left. Being as logically minded as we are, we split up and each went to discover what lay in the depths. In a nutshell, there was nothing there. This didn’t mean it wasn’t cool though. While there is nothing in terms of physical objects in the rooms down in this section, there is plenty of old wartime inscriptions marked on the walls. Moreover, what was great about this part of the explore was that it no longer felt like we were poking around a crypt; it felt more like we were exploring the old battery we’d set out to see. We spent a little while down in this section, until we ran out of things to photograph. After that, we headed back to the floor above and made our way back outside. Our night of GraveXplorationing was complete.
Explored with Bane.
Example of an RML Gun
The 13-Tonne Giant Gun that was Rediscovered
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In 1885, following a Russian scare, two RML guns were mounted on Point Halswell in Wellington. The British guns were purchased by the New Zealand Government, but they were not built inside any kind of permanent concrete emplacement. By 1889, an 8-inch disappearing gun and a magazine, which was built on two levels, had replaced the older technology. The disappearing gun was said to have been the very latest in military hardware at the time. A second 6-pdr quick-fire gun was also installed above the emplacement to supplement the overall firepower. The total cost of the artillery defences, which included the weapons, emplacements, magazines and barracks, across New Zealand amounted to £160,000.
As it is now known, the Russians did not invade. The rumours about Russian ships loaded with men arriving undetected in New Zealand had always been a great source of fear, and this was escalated in the late 1800s due to Anglo-Russian rivalry in Afghanistan. After fortifying the coastline, though, the widespread panic and fear subsided considerably and the next wave of building and extending fortifications did not occur until the 1940s, during the Second World War after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbour.
As for Point Halswell. It served as battery until 1925. However, after the death of the Prime Minister, William Ferguson Massey (‘Farmer Bill’), who was well known for his rural interests and kindness, parliament passed the Massey Burial-ground Act. This dedicated 0.8 hectares of land for a burial site to the former Prime Minister and his widow, Christina. The site of the old Halswell fort was selected and quickly converted into a crypt, with the gun pit being lined with marble and granite to serve as an underground vault. The memorial was completed in September 1930 at a cost of £15,000, a sum that was raised mostly by public subscription, and unveiled by His Excellency the Governor-General, Lord Bledisloe. The memorial itself was designed by Samuel Hurst Seager, a notable builder, draftsman and town planner, and two Auckland architects, William Henry Gummer and Charles Reginald Ford. Unfortunately, Massey’s wife died in 1932, shortly after the completion of the memorial, so her body was promptly laid to rest beside the husband. Seager also died in 1933, meaning the memorial was one of his last projects that he witnessed being finished.
Originally, the tomb comprised a pyramid structure on top of the gun pit; however, this was removed during World War Two when the memorial grounds were used as Port War Signal Station. Some of the remains of this station can still be found on the hillside directly above Massey’s burial site. Some years after the war, the memorial site was registered as a Category I historic place by the New Zealand Historic Places Trust. As for the land itself, it has remained publicly accessible and is now a popular tourist destination.
However, we are not quite at the end of the history just yet. In 2010/2011, it was announced that a 13-tonne giant gun, similar to the one mounted on Point Halswell, was believed to have been rolled down the hill and buried in the 1970s. The public were warned not to go searching for it, as it was likely to be on land still owned by the military. The exact words of Ann Neill from the New Zealand Historic Places Trust were, “We don’t want people to jump in and become like Indiana Jones”. Of course, the gun was located a few years later after conservation experts found it partially exposed (a result of being dug out by the general public) while carrying out work on Watts Peninsula. The gun, which is one of only ten ever constructed, was raised and sent off for restoration.
Our Version of Events
Point Halswell battery has been on our to-do list for quite some time, but since it’s now a mausoleum it’s taken a fair bit of planning and several visits to actually get inside. On the day we decided to have a proper crack at it, we headed over to the Miramar Peninsula nice and early. This was to get a good scouting session in before we proceeded to do the business. We spent a wee while refining our plan and once satisfied we set off in search of nearby derps to kill some time as we waited for darkness to fall across Wellington. The cover of darkness was quite essential to the overall plan.
Before we knew it, it was time to get the ball-sacks out and gain some skills in grave infiltration. Forget ‘Place Hacking’ and ‘Recreational Trespass’ and all that nonsense, this is what it’s all about these days. We call it ‘GraveXplorationing’, ‘Grave-Splorin’ or ‘Corpse Hacking’. It’s going to catch on, especially when the Instagram Kids catch wind of it, and before you know it ‘urbex’ will be old news. Anyway, we’re digressing, so we’ll get back to the story. We parked up a fair way away from the site and then began the arduous slog up to the top of the cliff, where the memorial is located. The whole time we felt very much like grave robbers or body snatchers, even though our intentions were completely different. On this occasion, no jewels, gold bullion or bodies would be leaving the site – if we happened to find such things. It’s important to note that we don’t actually condone doing what we did. There’s no other way to put it, it’s bad and, in our book, pretty immoral. We certainly wouldn’t encourage people to do the same. Nevertheless, what is done is done so we might as well share a report as this place should forever be remembered.
At the top of the hill the wind was blowing a gale. This seemed great at first, since we figured the weather would keep people away from the exposed hilltop for the evening. In the end, though, it turned out to be more of a hindrance because we couldn’t hear whether people were walking up any of the three trails that lead to the memorial. Thankfully, only a couple of people happened to wander past us as we tried our best to look unsuspicious, and it must have worked since they barely even acknowledged us. For obvious reasons, we’re not going to go into detail about what happened next. All we can say is that, amazingly, we found a way inside the mausoleum after an hour and a half of standing around up there.
A great plume of dust erupted as we opened the first set of doors. Clearly they’d not been opened in a long time. Ahead was a long, dark, corridor that led slightly downhill towards a left-hand turn. This was one of the original bunker’s tunnels. We followed it very tentatively, feeling incredibly guilty the entire time that we were trespassing inside someone’s final resting place. None of us are into the ghosties and ghoulies, but on this occasion we did expect to find old Massey wandering down one of the corridors to tell us to fuck off. Our thoughts were quickly disrupted, however, when we reached a set of metal gates. They looked like the type that belong in a graveyard; indeed, they were very fitting for the setting. Fortunately, they didn’t pose much of a problem by way of access because it looked as though one of the many earthquakes had damaged the hinges enough that we could squeeze our way through them. Despite the obvious disadvantage of death, there are many advantages to exploring in earthquake zones.
Past the gates, we entered a large room lined with doors on either side. It was obviously part of the original bunker, but fancy-ish wooden doors have been fitted. This gives the place a very strange feeling. It felt mausoleum-like, but strange. To be perfectly honest, at this point it was starting to feel a bit like the film Outpost. Nevertheless, despite the weird atmosphere we proceeded to open each of the doors. Most of the rooms were empty, but one was filled with flowers – dating back to the day of Massey’s funeral in 1925 – and another with a hatch leading into the lower depths of the bunker. Only one of the doors didn’t open. No matter how much we tried, it wasn’t giving in. To this day, we don’t know what lies behind that door; although, we expect it’s empty.
Once we’d had a good look through all the doors and chambers in the first part of the bunker, we made our way through a second set of gates into another tunnel. This one led into the former gun pit that once housed a large disappearing gun. Today, though, it houses Massey and his wife. As we rounded the corner they quickly came into view. Thankfully, they’re both entombed inside a large marble vault, rather than lying on slabs or anything grim like that. The old gun pit chamber is now very different from how it originally looked of course since it’s now lined with a marble floor and wall panels. Directly above the Masseys there is also a large cross hanging from the ceiling. Out of respect, we didn’t stay for too long in this part of the old battery, and we only took a couple of shots. After that we turned around and left the Masseys in peace.
However, we couldn’t leave just yet. There was one more section of the bunker to check out and this lay beneath us. Finding our way back to the room with the hatch, we lifted the lid and descended an old metal ladder. It was a bit fucked and sounded like it was coming loose from the wall, but we managed to reach the bottom in one piece where we found ourselves stood inside a very tight corridor. We had two options from here, we could go straight ahead or left. Being as logically minded as we are, we split up and each went to discover what lay in the depths. In a nutshell, there was nothing there. This didn’t mean it wasn’t cool though. While there is nothing in terms of physical objects in the rooms down in this section, there is plenty of old wartime inscriptions marked on the walls. Moreover, what was great about this part of the explore was that it no longer felt like we were poking around a crypt; it felt more like we were exploring the old battery we’d set out to see. We spent a little while down in this section, until we ran out of things to photograph. After that, we headed back to the floor above and made our way back outside. Our night of GraveXplorationing was complete.
Explored with Bane.
Example of an RML Gun
The 13-Tonne Giant Gun that was Rediscovered
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