Russia’s forgotten expedition

Most Kiwis have never heard about the 1820 Russian expedition to New Zealand, exactly 200 years ago this week. Even John Macnaughtan, who was appointed Russia’s Hon Consul in Auckland in 1994, was surprised when he first heard of this early historical encounter.

During the past 26 years he has spread the word about this peaceful and articulately recorded encounter, and even made sure President Putin knew about it. Yeltsin and Gorbachev before him, too. Unfortunately, Covid-19 sunk Russian hopes of importing a celebration, including a visit from their training tall ship Nadezhda.

So it’s been up to Aucklandbased (for 25 years) Sergey Permitin, the chairman of the Russia New Zealand Chamber of Commerce, to fly the flag for the Mirnyi Vostok 200 celebrations.

Over the next week in Queen Charlotte Sound he will produce some Russian language visual podcasts that will detail the events of that original expedition. And no doubt they will be well received in Russia. 531-ton Mirnyi (Peaceful). Both were roomy, making them ideal for collecting ‘‘enthnographica’’. No longer was it fashionable to just roam the world; there had to be scientific purpose.

The expedition’s instructions were to ‘‘pass over nothing new, useful, or curious that you may have a chance to see ... as may widen any area of human knowledge.’’

Bellingshausen was well aware of the value of tradeable items for the securing of artefacts, and his ships were loaded with axes, knives, saws, chisels, copper and iron wire, beads, mirrors, steel flints, candles, tumblers, belts, even rolls of red flannelette and ticking material, as well as a large quantity of broken iron, nails and buttons.

A naval entente existed between Britain and Russia, and after a final briefing with Sir Joseph Banks in Portsmouth, the ships left Europe for their expected two-year voyage. In Rio de Janeiro they loaded fresh meat and wine before heading to Antarctica, getting to within 30 kilometres of what is now Princess Martha Land, charting everything as they went.

Sailing west fully one quarter of the globe, the ships then spent a month at Port Jackson in Australia, before setting course for the Tuamotu Archipelago in the Society Islands. Day after day they battled the Tasman storms pushing them east, down to New

Zealand. On May 18, 1820, the Vostok signalled her companion to abandon tack and rendezvous in Queen Charlotte Sound.

The choice of Queen Charlotte Sound was no accident: it featured prominently in Purdy’s 1816 cruising guide The Oriental Navigator and was a place of known Ma¯ ori habitation.

On arrival the Russians let off some rockets ‘‘to announce our arrival to the native living in the interior. I thought it probable that they would assemble from various localities to visit us.’’

Unlike Cook, who recorded 400 Ma¯ ori in the area, the Russians found a much-reduced population of about 80.

The comprehensive Russian accounts from their 1820 visit to To¯ taranui, as the Ma¯ ori called this area, are important as the Ma¯ ori tribal group who inhabited this nexus of trade and movement between the two main islands (Rangita¯ ne, Nga¯ ti Tara, Nga¯ ti Apa, Nga¯ ti Tahu, Nga¯ ti Kuia and Nga¯ ti Tu¯ matako¯ kiri) were slaughtered by Te Rauparaha’s musket-wielding Nga¯ ti Toa and Te A¯ ti Awa allies only seven years after the Russian visit.

Some historians say these raids were close to genocide, there being a complete break in traditional regional history around this time. The Russian accounts are a cameo insight into a trading culture already tinged by European contact.

Bellingshausen’s insistence that both sides observe respectful good conduct was almost certainly helped make this expedition one of the most successful to come here. He forbade his crew any sexual contact with

Ma¯ ori, and insisted no gospel be preached. For the Russians, it was about maintaining respect. The Mirnyi had a priest, but not once in the two-year voyage did he get a mention in Bellingshausen’s journals.

Expedition astronomer and keen ethnographer Ivan Simonov oversaw the bartering with Ma¯ ori, who began visiting the ships with tradeable items; fresh fish and crayfish immediately featured but soon museum-grade artefacts, two of each type, were in the Russian holds. Examples were a female tekoteko or ridge carving from a chief’s house, wooden fish hooks and adzes and garments, some in stages of construction to show how they were made. Tattooed heads were also obtained.

The Ma¯ ori proved themselves veteran hagglers. Following Cook’s example, seeds were exchanged, the Ma¯ ori given turnip, swede, carrot, pumpkin, broad bean and peas. The Russians took flax seed, which Bellingshausen promised to plant in the Southern Crimea. Groves of flax flourish there today.

The visit was brief, less than two weeks. On June 2, the barometer plunged, and huge waves pounded the ships causing them to drag anchor. Two days later, Bellingshausen ordered his ships to weigh anchor and set course for the Society Islands, where Simonov continued to pack the ships with artefacts. Bellingshausen Atoll (Motu One) in the Leeward group of the Society Islands, along with Vostok Island in Kiribati, are named after them.

After returning to Russia in August 1821, most of the cargo went to become a significant collection at the Miklukhomaklay Institute of Anthropology and Ethnography at the Academy of Sciences in St Petersburg, while some ended up as the Simonov Collection at the University of Kazan, the two locations where they still reside.

Bellingshausen’s rightful glory was set back when some of his crew were later arrested for taking part in the 1825 Decembrist uprising. Even the printing of the expedition journals was put on hold, as much due to Tsar Alexander’s displeasure as British insistence that publication might outshine English territorial ambitions, including recognition that Russia proved the existence of Antarctica. After it was pointed out that other countries would claim the glory, the tsar relented, and 600 copies were published in 1831.

It is undeniable that New Zealand history has always been slanted towards Britain. The keen Russian interest in this country, which can be traced to Cook’s voyages, has never been reciprocated, as shown by our Government’s complete lack of support for the 200 celebrations.

It was on the highest point of Motuara in Queen Charlotte Sound that Cook claimed the country for his king, the sound for his queen. But Cook exceeded his orders there to simply raise the ‘‘Union flag’’, and the British government was careful to exclude New Zealand from its published list of territories until well after the Russian visit.

Bellingshausen may have followed Cook, came as an equal. It’s time we got that straight.