Ships at anchor during the Waitangi celebrations. John Ashton, photo NEW ZEALAND'S NATIONAL DAY Feb. 6th. The day was perfect. Eight naval ships rode at anchor in the Bay as we drove through Paihia; uncertain of the exact route to the Treaty House, we asked a resident of Paihia the way. He told us, then said: “Something going on at the Treaty House?” With eight ships in the bay, and thousands of cars converging on Waitangi? “Only New Zealand's National Day!” we gasped, and drove on. The lawns in front of the Treaty House were immaculate; families with picnic baskets sat quietly waiting while the kids queued up for Coca-Cola. The crowds gathered and the sun dipped. The official party arrived, and the Minister for Maori Affairs, Hon. J. R. Hanan, was challenged in dramatic and authoritative style by a lad still at school, and the ceremony began. The guard paraded, was inspected, and the flag hoisted, sticking for a while on the top-gallant, finally broke upwards, gracefully, like a shroud. The Minister spoke, eloquently and movingly; the scene of 1840 was in part enacted by two representatives of the Maori people reciting the historic speeches of their ancestors. The band played, salvoes of thump and brass, and as the light grew dim. the warships suddenly sprang into light, like vessels of spun sugar-floss. A concert, the Queen, and the crowd melted. Waitangi 1961 was over. The ceremony was brief but impressive, held for the first time at night. The young action song group was indefatigable and well-trained, the senior group from H.M.N.Z.S. Otago less well-trained. but spirited. A feeling of occasion and solemnity hung in the air; a great compact, unique in modern history, was signed and sealed here, and by its prescriptions a nation was founded. Is it too much to hope that this will soon be not just a National Day but a national holiday as well?