Te Anu’s Story: A Forgotten Chapter of New Zealand’s Colonial Past
By Dr Harpreet Singh | drhsinghnz.substack.com | FB: @Dr.Harpreet.Singh.NZ
This research on Te Anu was conducted and published by Professor Tony Ballantyne of the University of Otago. The full chapter appears in his book Webs of Empire: Locating New Zealand’s Colonial Past. I had the privilege of working under Tony’s supervision during my PhD.
When we think of New Zealand’s colonial history, the narrative often revolves around Māori and Pākehā. Yet, the story of Te Anu, a South Asian sailor who settled among Kāi Tahu in the early 19th century, reveals a far more complex and interconnected past.
Who Was Te Anu?
Te Anu was likely a lascar, an Indian sailor employed on British ships. Around 1814, he deserted the brig Matilda off the Otago coast, escaping the harsh conditions of maritime life. Unlike most of his shipmates, who perished, Te Anu survived and was absorbed into Kāi Tahu society. He married locally, received traditional moko (tattooing), and fathered a son, George Turi, though this lineage eventually died out.
A World of Cross-Cultural Encounters
Te Anu’s life unfolded in a world shaped by global imperial networks. Southern New Zealand was part of a vast maritime economy linking Port Jackson, Calcutta, Canton, and London. Ships carried not only goods like sealskins and flax but also people: Europeans, Pacific Islanders, Africans, and South Asians. This polyglot world blurred the rigid racial categories that would later dominate colonial thinking.
Kāi Tahu’s Perspective on Difference
For Kāi Tahu, cultural difference was not initially framed in racial terms. Outsiders like Te Anu were called takata pora or “people of the ships”, a category that included Europeans, Americans, and others. Incorporation into the iwi was possible through marriage and kinship (whakapapa), not skin colour. Te Anu’s acceptance illustrates Māori agency in negotiating cultural change.
His Role and Activities
Te Anu was fully integrated into Kāi Tahu life through marriage and moko, symbolising Kāi Tahu’s openness to outsiders. He acted as a cultural broker, speaking some English and Māori, mediating trade, and possibly warning Europeans of danger during conflicts. He is remembered as a transmitter of knowledge: he reportedly travelled to Sydney and returned with stories of steamships, factories, and literacy, which fascinated Kāi Tahu communities. When the first train ran from Invercargill to Bluff in 1867, locals recalled his predictions and named the engine “Te Anu”. His stories about industrial technology positioned him as a figure associated with progress and global knowledge. Despite this, Te Anu did not become a major political leader. His absence from the 1848 kaumātua (elders) list and the lack of descendants meant his memory faded from Kāi Tahu genealogical records.
From Inclusion to Racialisation
By the mid-19th century, this fluidity gave way to rigid racial hierarchies. As systematic colonisation advanced, newcomers like Edward Peters, another South Asian known as “Black Peter”, were explicitly racialised. The rise of “whiteness” as a social ideal marginalised earlier traditions of openness and intermarriage.
Why Does Te Anu Matter?
Te Anu’s story challenges the simplicity of bicultural narratives. It reminds us that New Zealand’s past was shaped by global mobility, maritime labour, and indigenous adaptability. His life also underscores the fragility of historical memory: because his line ended, Te Anu faded from Kāi Tahu whakapapa and from national history.
A Broader Lesson
Microhistories like Te Anu’s reveal the entangled nature of empire. They show how local communities were linked to distant worlds and how identities were negotiated long before the nation-state imposed its boundaries. In an era when New Zealand debates its multicultural future, remembering figures like Te Anu helps us see that diversity is not new; it is woven into the very fabric of our past.


My whānau has an ancestor from Val Verde. Manuel Jose'. He jumped ship and "married" 5x, spreading his seed. Groups of us stay in contact with our relations in Spain. Funny, because we also have Scottish and English ancestors who nobody seems interested in catching up with, although in England a few years ago, I found out that my brother-in-law and I are related on our Scottish side. My dad also did research to find our Scottish tartan!
I didn't realise how deep Māori connections with Chinese were either until I had to re-examine my vocal prejudices when I was talking about "Asian people" (see that on its own is pretty dumb right?). One of my colleagues, who has Chinese and Māori ancestry, gently prompted me to reflect on my kino. That was a while back. I conducted further research and engaged in self-reflection, incorporating a bit of reflexivity and self-criticism as well as castigation. I deserved to be roundly told off, but she was so gentle.
It's horrific what we've done in this country and what we continue to do based on our colonial understandings, beliefs and values about who is the 'other'. It's drummed into us from childhood, it's unhealthy and hateful. The best we can do is overcome our colonised selves.
I really appreciate your work, Harpreet. While I have to expend most of my energy to take care of my mokopuna and their future as Māori, I'm reminded that we have to bring all of ourselves to it and make sure that we're all working together to combat the ravages of captialism and neo-liberalism, lately, libertarian poison as well.
Thank you.