From Heritage New Zealand Autumn 2007
by Shelley Howells
Much loved by those in the know, the relics of World War II fears at Stony Batter, near Auckland, continue to be involved in minor skirmishes today.

Charlie Walsh of Waiheke Island's Stony Batter Protection and Restoration Society with on eof th eboulders painted by soldiers during World War II.
Photo: NZ Herald
In 1942-3, one of New Zealand’s biggest preoccupations was fear of a possible Japanese invasion. Our troops were overseas where British High Command needed them and we had looked to the British Navy in Singapore for support. But Singapore fell to the Japanese in February 1942, the US Pacific fleet in Pearl Harbour was still reeling after the 7 December 1941 hammering, and the Japanese bombed Darwin, Australia, in February 1942.
It looked like we were next, and urgent work began on strengthening anti-invasion measures, including building three new coast artillery batteries, at Wright’s Hill in Wellington, Whangaparaoa near Auckland and Stony Batter, on the eastern end of Auckland’s Waiheke Island. There had been talk of building the 9.2-inch (23cm) batteries since way back in 1938, but finances meant all talk, no action until the perceived crisis, when the US required Auckland Harbour defences to be improved for safer anchorage and to use as a staging and repair base.
It was a huge, pricey logistical and engineering feat in the face of great difficulties including the sites’ isolation (especially at Stony Batter), lack of manpower, ballooning costs, shortage of supplies and, many argue, spectacular bungling by the planners (for example, discovering that some of the tunnels were too narrow to fit equipment and the last-minute consideration that the batteries might need some protection against air attack). However, under great secrecy and some extreme measures – such as taking all of the country’s cement supply for a year, conscripting all expert tunnellers and requisitioning heavy construction machinery – tunnelling and concreting started in October 1942, and was completed by October 1943. But, by then, the War was starting to turn in the Allies’ favour, invasion by the Japanese was seen as unlikely and equipping the new batteries became less of a priority, so the Army cancelled the work and never quite got around to completing Stony Batter.
The battery was never manned, only two of the three planned guns were installed and the personnel camp was never completed. The guns, which could fire a shell over 30 kilometres at one round per minute and could rotate 360° and elevate to 35°, were fired only once, in 1951, as part of a Compulsory Military Training exercise. In 1953, it was decided to strip the batteries of all ammunition, stores and equipment; in 1958, Coast Artillery was abolished; and, by 1961, all three batteries had been abandoned and most of the equipment, including guns, scrapped.
Today, what remains at Stony Batter is one very expensive, extensive and fascinating historical playground, registered as a Category I historic place by the Historic Places Trust and managed by the Department of Conservation (DoC). It is considered to be an engineering heritage site of international significance.
Many families consider it significantly fun and interesting, too. It’s a reserve that offers both built and natural history, great walks and stunning views. It’s a terrific day trip that begins with an easy 10 to 20-minute walk across private farmland from the car park to the reserve, taking in great vineyard, bush and ocean views. The verdant landscape is made alien by thousands of rocks and boulders, some whoppers as tall as four metres, poking out of the grass where they landed after being tossed across the sky, like a handful of pebbles, by some ancient volcano.
At the fort, for a small fee and armed with torches, you can explore parts of the maze of more than a kilometre of tunnels, stairways and chambers, some of which feature old pieces of equipment and exhibits. There’s a ridiculous amount of fun to be had in the echoing blackness, doing scary-torch-face, breaking the rules by frightening each other in the spidery dark nooks and crannies, and getting thoroughly lost. Guided tours are available with the knowledgeable, passionate team of volunteers, the Stony Batter Protection and Restoration Society. They run a small museum and information centre, and continue in their magnificent, quixotic mission to restore the complex fully.
Although Stony Batter saw no action during the War, it has seen battle in its time, most famously the fight for public access to the Crown-owned site across privately owned land. In the early 1980s, landowner millionaire John Spencer took issue with the council’s right-of-way across his land, and stopped vehicles from crossing by various means including, over the years, locked gates (smashed by a local), security guards, and a great pile of dirt bulldozed on to the road. Locals and council didn’t take well to this and legal wars were fought right up until 2001, when graffiti, possibly dating back to World War II, when some larrikin – supposedly a soldier – decided to decorate a couple of the boulders with a tin of white paint, creating a beady-eyed whale a loony tuft-haired face on the hill a few hundred metres away from the fort. Every now and then, these old bits of early tagging action attract modern-day larrikins with their cans of spray paint, so occasionally DoC has a bit of a clean-up. Late last year, the Stony Batter Protection and Restoration Society objected to a clean-up, fearing that the original graffiti might disappear, too. Society member Sue Pawley was quoted as saying, “For the 64 years that the public has had access to this place, those two rocks have been painted… They are our rocks, they are our grandparents’ rocks, they are our great-grandparents’ rocks, and DoC is supposed to look after them for our great-grandchildren.”
DoC says that is its intention (only one of the rocks, the whale, is on DoC land; old tufty head is on Spencer land). “If the new graffiti is left as is, it might encourage more kids to tag,” says DoC Community Relations Programme Manager, Auckland Area, Bill Truesewich. “It is still on our maintenance task list to remove the new painting, but we acknowledge that local people value the originals, and will bear that in mind.” He points out that not everyone is charmed by the rocks. The Geological Society, for example, sees the markings as defacing an important geological feature. But, DoC has cleaned up the rocks in the past and left the original markings visible. It says it will try to do the same again.
Built with serious intentions, Stony Batter today is a place of pleasure where you can picnic on the grass, dally with the very friendly sheep, have your photo taken beside the whale. Above all, it’s those amazing tunnels you remember; the damp smell, the chill and the echoes. You emerge, squint-eyed into the dazzling sun, climb over the stripped gun emplacements, gasp at the views across the harbour and, maybe, take a moment to be grateful that this beautiful place was never used for its original purpose.