12: Team bonding and crucial planning
The All Blacks were assured of an understanding cruise to England. The master of the Remuera, Captain J.J. Cameron, was one of the crew when the 1905-06 Originals team sailed to England at the start of their tour.
Faced with a 39-day voyage to Britain, maintaining fitness for a rugby team that needed to be ready to play soon after arrival became a daily preoccupation. Just as important were the evening discussions on tactics and laws, which were led by Wellington referee Lou Simpson, who was travelling in the official tour party.
It wasn't all hard work, and there was no lack of 'mischief'. As Fred Lucas described:
Auckland three-quarter Fred Lucas
We were like a party of schoolboys only merrier and more mischievous. We were never at a loss during our tour for a prank or practical joke capable of raising a laugh. In the tropics we used to carry our bedding up on to the deck to sleep there. It was wisest not to leave your bed unoccupied, because if you did, you were almost certain, on returning to find that it had been dropped to the lower deck, or worse, slid across the deck to the ladies' side. You could not venture there, so a steward had to be asked to restore it.[1]
Not even the team's new captain, Cliff Porter, was spared. It was Porter's job to ensure all hands were ready for the first fitness session each day. He would blow a whistle to get everybody up. Only a couple of days into the voyage, he attempted to leave his cabin to take part in the 7-7.45 am physical training run by Surgeon-Commander Patterson, R.N. Dr Paterson, a physical culture expert, who was travelling on the boat, offered his services to the team. However, a rope had been tied to Porter's door handle and the other end to a port hole to prevent him from leaving his cabin. Eventually, he managed to work his way out and suspected the culprits were George Nepia and Lui Paewai. He found their cabin, stood outside and gave an elongated blast on his whistle.
I heard one of them say, 'How the blazes did he get out?' I didn't say anything but they looked very sheepish when they arrived on deck that morning. It was a lovely way to travel. We used to yarn with one another, and we'd go and have a spot together, and talk things over. We were so friendly. We all mixed in and there was no cliques at all.[2]
While they did their physical jerks in the morning, with vice-captain Jock Richardson leading through the exercises and skipping. At 10.30 am, attention was paid to scrum work, passing, sprinting practice and the medicine ball. In the afternoon, from 1.45 pm, there was a team talk and tactics. It achieved the purpose of maintaining essential fitness, but the finesse was impossible in the cramped conditions they had to work in and with the ship's constant motion.
Soon after departure, the team's management committee was decided. It comprised manager Stan Dean, captain Cliff Porter and vice-captain Jock Richardson as well as senior players Maurice Brownlie and A. 'Son' White.
Tour journalist R.A. 'Ron' Barr, who travelled with the team, said that while they were fit because of their energetic system and swift movement, it was all futile.
The restrictions on the ship and its accommodation for any system of training other than that afforded is real and most marked. Even the full extent of the promenade deck, which extends almost the full length of the ship, is not adequate for the training of a team on an extended tour. The hard deck floor has a strong tendency to harden the muscles and tighten the sinews, so that sprinting is not only unwise, but it has the effect of tightening up those muscles and sinews which should be perfectly loose and free.
To limber up by a series of physical culture exercises is of real benefit, but it is only now, when the team is experiencing the effect of the tedious training that they are realising the true benefits which should accrue from that afforded on board ship steaming over swelling, surging seas where every swing and sway is so sudden and so subject to change that is absolutely defying the most effective benefits anticipated.[3]
This was especially true considering the treacherous turf the team was sure to experience during the English winter. A week of training on shore after arrival was likely more beneficial.
A boxing tournament was arranged, and one of the highlights was the sight of New Zealand's former heavyweight champion, Brian McCleary, against one of the smallest on the team, Bert Cooke. Cooke boxed brilliantly for three rounds in a well-received fight.
Heaving to off Pitcairn Island, where the locals rowed out to see their wares, and passing through the Panama Canal system also provided welcome diversions.
Bay of Plenty lock Les Cupples said good weather during the first few days of the voyage helped them find their sea legs quickly. He said after working on the medicine ball, they finished up with some general rough and tumble all over the deck.
The latter is a somewhat dangerous game in which the whole 29 take part. At one time there were no less than nine or ten down with minor injuries. The chief scrum work is putting the 2-3-2 system down against the 3-2-3, the latter being the formation we shall be opposed to in the Old Country. Very little, or no, hooking is done with the whole scrums down. The continual roll and pitch of the boat makes it practically impossible to do anything satisfactorily. The very limited space we have makes it dangerous to put our two heavy packs down. Several times we screwed with the tremendous weight and went bang into the side of the ship. So the hookers are tried out with the lock only. The scrum is being perfected more and more, and I reckon it will startle the people at Home. There is no doubt regarding the better of the two systems, 2-3-3 v 3-2-3. The former acting as a powerful wedge is capable of buckling up any 3-2-3.[4]
Cupples explained the afternoon discussions, in which each side member was required to lecture on tactics. Those who wanted to comment then made criticisms, and as a result, points were well threshed out. It was surprising how much good they felt discussing operations on the field. They also decided the wing-forwards would not be called by that name; rather, they would be an 'extra half' or 'rover', much as Billy Stead suggested before they left.
Porter recounted a session on hooking at scrums, where he, as a rover, was responsible for feeding the scrums. He found the hookers in the side; Brian McCleary (Canterbury), Bull Irvine (Wairarapa and Hawke's Bay), Quentin Donald (Wairarapa) and Abe Munro (Otago) had all been taught different ways to hook the ball quickest, which was what the side wanted on tour. One morning he was walking on the upper deck and came across the four hookers talking among themselves.
I heard one of them say, 'Here he comes now'. I said to them, 'What's this? What are you fellows doing here?' 'What do you know about hooking?' said one of them, 'You never hooked.' I said, 'I know that. You're the hookers, I want you to find the fastest way.' I wanted them to sort it out among themselves and then let the team know. The same process was used through the team for the various special requirements of each position. Everyone was allowed to speak. It was all digested among the team and eventually we had a pattern of how we would play.[5]
It was during the sessions, halfback Bill Dalley said, they decided to use Māori words to call their plays.
When we wanted the ball, or were going to move in any particular direction we used Māori words. The halves and five-eighths used Māori words for various signals.[6]
But it wasn't all grim preparation. Friends were made. Maurice Brownlie met his future wife, Maude Barker, on the voyage. While the All Blacks were travelling second class, Barker, her father, and stepmother were travelling first class. But at functions and dances, the two classes met. Bert Cooke rated Brian McCleary one of the party's humorists. A ball of muscle, the former New Zealand amateur heavyweight champion, would be up shadow-sparring around the ship at dawn. Southland Andrew 'Son' White and Taranaki's Alf West were so inseparable and had a 'quiet, whimsical way' about them that they were known as 'Mum and Dad.' They attended many functions on board. Barr said socially, they were a great success.[7]
One scarcely knows there is a touring football team on board the liner – remembering the great touring teams of the past – who were nothing if not boisterous...While all is joy and gladness on board there are not a few who are not experiencing the tedium of the voyage – over the weary wastes of waters for days on end; long and silent nights...Even the blare of the bugle for 'boat drill' relieves the monotony and tedium of the voyage.[8]
Heaving to off Pitcairn Island, where the locals rowed out to see their wares, and passing through the Panama Canal system proved welcome diversions.
NEXT ISSUE: What to expect
[1] F.W. 'Fred' Lucas, Weekly News, 25 July 25 1937
[2] Cliff Porter, Stevenson interview
[3] R.A. Barr, at sea, Southland Times, 22 September 1924
[4] Les Cupples, letter to friend, Southland Times, 11 October 1924
[5] Porter ibid
[6] Bill Dalley, The Star [Christchurch}, 17 April 1926
[7] With thanks to the late Dr Ron Palenski.
[8] Barr, ibid