More about Helicopters

There was a young local fellow who flew fixed wing aircraft for agricultural work and he finally gained his helicopter licence.
Murray loved to fly and there are stories about some of the things he did. I always felt safe with him, and we had to do a few difficult things together.

The first machine he used was a Hiller, a bit like a Bell but it was more powerful. Murray taught me some things like the more forward speed you have, the more the machine can lift. He used this when flying from ponds in the forest by landing on the area that was a dam, so there was an instant drop. These sorts of things helped him prune costs in the tendering process.

I will always remember Murray's response when his tendered price was not low enough. I wrote to Conservancy Office requesting that the outcome of the tender process could be reviewed and they replied saying if he met the lowest price he could have the work on account that he was 'local & known'. Murray replied that his price was what he thought he could do the job economically - therefore reducing his price was either to do a poorer job or to take less profit. He was prepared to do neither. No job is worth doing if you can't make money from it.

In the event the guy that got the job with his Hughes 500 'with computer controlled delivery system' was yet another cowboy. As was my habit I calibrated the output and found the tanks could hold only 50 gallons [he had claimed 60]. And ours was the last job on his contract - meaning others had not calibrated him as they should - this meant that the computer was all bulldust and the chemical had not delivered appropriately! He did on my watch though!

Our radio technicians wanted to put in mast as an aerial for VHF radio, and Murray flew me and temporary aerials around so the sites could be evaluated. This meant precision flying! Some of the sites were on razor back ridges - only as wide as a sheep track - I sat on one side of the aircraft and the poles/equipment were secured to the frame on the other side. He could not land, and there was always a wind up there, so he hovered by resting the skid on my side while I got out. Then he would move and hover with the other skid on the ridge so I could unload the gear. He would go away while I erected the poles and did the test. I would reload him the same way - we did this for several days. Always very safely.

Later he upgraded to a Jet Ranger and warned me that it was more unstable than the old Hiller. In fact if the Jet Ranger was hovering, a man could tip it over by lifting a skid.

We needed to put another aerial up on South Peak after we had purchased the Trotters Gorge Block and Murray used this aircraft to lift concrete for the foundation. Again he would load it to the maximum but was safe and did a very good job.

Murray was killed when his helicopter lost power as he was landing at Papakio.

There were three other crashes on or around the Forest. A Bell crashed while spraying gorse. A mechanical problem caused the crash but the pilot auto-rotated and was unhurt. Our Bulldozer cut a track down there and pulled the machine out and it was loaded on a truck for repair.

A Hughes 300 crashed on the forest boundary with Glencoe Run and was pretty well demolished. The pilot and crew walked away - albeit stiffly.

There was money in the live capture of live deer and further out on Glencoe Run another Hughes 300 crashed. We were called out to assist. This time there were injuries, the worst being Murray's brother. Among other things the rifle barrel went right through his thigh bone - the bluing of the barrel poisoning him and he spent a long time in hospital.

I liked the Hughes 300 and Rod Brown was one of the better pilots that I worked with. Always safe and always professional.

Well he was, but this may not sound that good - but he was .....safe. Below Trig J on the Fraser's Block, the geography is very steep and it is a long way, top to bottom. One day the wind made it unfavourable for aerial spraying, so Rod asked me if I wanted to look for deer with him. Well it is better to look for them flying slowly uphill with the rotors not too far off the vegetation - it is steep! But do you know the quick way down? I didn't! You take the pitch off the rotors so the machine falls like a bloody stone! Your stomach stays on top of the hill and forgets to follow! Looking straight ahead was the worst - looking out the side was bearable - just! Then as the river bed looms ever so close, a little power and gradual increase of the pitch and the fall comes to a slow stop and the motion is upwards again! We did this all afternoon. I didn't dare tell Mags about this but she did wonder why I seemed washed out!

Another time just by Government Hill, we were scouting for deer again and suddenly fog came in. Calmly Rod told me this was a bit dicky and I though maybe we could hover, dropping slowly. But that's not easy in fog and you can even not realise that you have changed direction. Momentarily there was a small break and I saw a fenceline that I knew. I told him we could lad right beside it as there was a large area of clear flat land. We were both relieved when the engine was switched off! It took an hour for the fog to clear.

You don't realise about fog. I left my vehicle and walked through an open gate to check on something. After the fog rolled in I knew I would find the fenceline and find the gate. I walked right through the gate and past the vehicle and knew I was wrong when I was going sharply down hill. I found my way but it is freaky.

The Squirrel is a top of the range helicopter with a lot of power. There was a fire at Trotters Gorge so I had to attach the monsoon bucket and guide the pilot down there - it was evening. You can't carry a monsoon bucket with with the trapdoor closed because the air can't pass through and it wobble back and forth and can take the helicopter down.

This helicopter had been called in as an emergency and had been doing specialised work. It had no mirror so the pilot could check on his hook (attached to the monsoon bucket) there was no seat for me, meaning there was no seatbelt! And we had to take the door off so I could lean out to see what the bucket was doing to advise the pilot who I did not know. I bet his feeling was mutual.

It was half dark when we arrived and the pumps were located by the creek, but I knew there was a telephone line so I cautioned the pilot, but neither of us could see it - he sort of held the aircraft in a hover while we looked - someone down there clicked and shone a light on it.

Some equipment was moved up on a ridge and the monsoon bucket was filled with firepumps
relayed up from the creek. Dumping that water was tricky, the smoke, the heat and the dark. The pilot did not mention the updraft but I expect it was a problem too. I kept safe by holding on to the pilot's seat and it was a rough ride! At about 11:00pm as he banked steeply, something rattled across the floor of the helicopter - the pilot asked what it was and I told him I had no idea! My advice was to get out of there. He agreed and we finished work for the night. There was not much else that could be done anyway. To this day I have no idea what had come loose.

Another local boy took up flying and has a successful business with a good reutation. but you know these machines are dangerous. My old mate Ralph was the boy's father and used to help him on the job. One day, he climbed out of the aircaft and walked into the tail rotor. A basic mistake and one of the first hazards you learn around helicopters.

I have not the slightest urge to go within 100 meters of another helicopter!

Working with Aircraft

A significant part of my duties was to supervise the aerial application of chemicals as land preparation or to release forest crops from weed growth.
This immediately brings up connotations of Vietnam and 'Agent Orange' but we did not connect our work with that, or arguments about 245T.

Having said that, John Pury-Cust (now there's a name) had asked me to do a Forestry Assignment with him on the Mekong Delta in 1965, but the escalation of the war caused the work to be permanently suspended.


The first two years I was at Herbert Forest, John MacDonald pitoted a Fletcher fixed wing aircraft. Of course, the pilot has to be shown where to go, and the Fletcher was a single set machine, so I had to sit in the hopper - glad he didn't tip me out that way!


The first year we flew from the hill on Colin McLean's property and used a water tank that was from the Herbert Rural supply. Colin charged us for the water as he was a County Councillor and I remember thinking how stingy he was. That spraying was 245T on to Compartment 40 and was very tight flying conditions.


The next year we flew from a ridge on Donald Sinclair's farm, (Bert Bennett bought it later), it was a long ridge and the aircraft had to fly over the gully of the Waianakarua River and climb rather steeply. Inside the belly of the Fletcher, it seemed a long takeoff and the vibration was considerable. But I liked the aircraft and thought John to be a very competent pilot. like most he did crash sometime later - a wire strung across a gully.


For the perceived 'precision' spraying of Diamond Hill, a helicopter was required. The only helicopters available at the time were the Bells of MASH fame. They were not able to lift big loads and most operators carried the minimum amount of fuel so they could carry a larger payload.


For several years these aircraft were used and I might say, the pilots were often cowboys - as were their loader drivers [actually they operated pumps rather than loaders]. These were the years of venison recovery, now etched into New Zealand folk-lore. Sometimes the cracks on the bubbles on the helicopter were sown together with catgut!
Spraying could not be done in any wind that was more than a few knots, so I would keep weather readings and we would spray at first light of last light of the day. This meant I would be phoned at 3:00am for a wind update, then I would be on the job one hour later.


The pilot would land on exactly the same spot for loading. The mark left by the skids was the target. We would be waiting for the machine to land - the loader driver would have a 20 litre container of fuel, and tip that in the fuel tank (very close to the rotors) and I would fill the spray tanks with the mixture. Actually dangerous work.

There were a number of experiences worthy of note:

Most of the operators used second-hand petrol tankers to carry water. Although we did not always need water to be carried in, the tanker also carried equipment such as pumps and hoses.

We were spraying on Frasers Block with a Bell Helicopter fitted with a turbo - apparently you have to wind the motor down (to allow it to cool) for half an hour before shuting it down. Well the loader driver was going in to fuel up, and I was going in with the hose to fill the spray tank. The pilot had just misjudged by an inch or two and there huge bang! The loader driver ran off and I dropped to the ground an lay flat! The engine was shut down immediately! The tip of the rotor had struck the rack on the tanker! It blew the ends of both rotor blades completely off!


A truck brought new blades down from Nelson and it had to hauled up the muddy track with Mick and his D6. It turns out [well to me anyway] there is not much holding those rotors on! One bolt about 1 cm in diameter and another about half that! Once they were fitted, the 'trimming' process started there are wee, thin strips of metal on the rotor blade no more than 4"x 2" and a few mm thick. They have to bend to catch the air perfectly. Bend, try, cool down motor, stop motor/rotors and repeat. This took all day. Mick had a trial ride, straight up and when he asked the pilot what was wrong - and the reply was a miss in the motor; Mick held on to his arm until back on hard ground!

There were this pair sporting large flowing mustaches. They made themselves out to be "cool dudes'. Often the helicopters would pick me up from home - never landing but hovering for me to climb aboard. You do that gently so as not to destabilise the machine. Anyway I'm not sure if they were testing me, but the helicopter would lost power and we would lose altitude down, down and then whrrrr up we go again. I sat there 'calmly' while this was going on - not once, several times. To this day I don't know if they were having me on or not.

Then there was the helicopter that I thought was poorly maintained. I thought the thing seemed unstable and light in the rear end! What did I know? Well I radioed through to Berwick Forest, where it was going next and told them. They demanded the machine be looked at. The machine was grounded because the tail part (rotor) was irregular. Oh, after it was going again, one of the exhaust pipe covers fell off. They get red hot (you see it in the dark when you are working with it) and it started a fire in the forest!


I will do another blog of experiences, but first mention that government department called for tenders to have aerial spraying carried out. Contracts were drawn up and the successful contractor would have all the spraying of Southland Conservancy. So it would be a useful contract.
But some were brilliant and others were cowboys (as I have said) and this made the job interesting. We supplied all the chemical, because that was bought by the Government Stores Board.



Most ofen we used 245T and then Tordon, which was more powerful on gorse. Broom was another target weed and for us minor, in other areas majorly himalayan honeysuckle.
We did trials for grass control as a release and we were successful with the different chemical cocktails.
Asulox was used to control bracken fern 0f the waxy cuticle being a challenge, so added 20% desiel and an emulsifier. A safer chemical to use (someone said a guy had represented its safety by drinking a teaspoonful of it - yeah right). We had tried dessicants which helped the burn, but Asulox prevented regrowth.

Some of this stuff has been taken over by the Roundups of this world and its forms, but the big thing in my opinion is Velpar - the granule application is excellent after planting and the wettable powder can be aerially applied. I'm out of that now though and pleased to be so as you will see when I continue with these flying experiences.

Wheels within

The New Zealand Forest Service was a government department and its officers public servants but the idea of being of service escapes some and like any group of people there are always cliches.
It always interested me because I like to study human nature - so I observed.
I have stated elsewhere of odd runin I have had with public servants and I guess it is fair to say that we all have this little bit of power - usually over someone. How you turn out is the manner in which you exercise that power.

Honesty was expected at home, and I guess you carry that, but I think we were taught well at Christchurch Boy's High School, and at Forestry school - guys like Don Raymond and Ralph Naylor.
My philosophy was never to ask anyone (on my watch) to do anything I couldn't do. The other was that I believed we were spending public money, therefore it was my responsibility to use it wisely and appropriately.

The first that I noticed was old Bernie Bainbridge who was District 2iC. He was supposed to supervise me on my first controlled burn-off. It was trick enough, but I coped - he did not turn up. However he was full of criticism when he came the next day to have a look. I had not followed the Fire Plan because I had seen the need to protect one boundary more than a bush gulley.

Most of these guys moved to other jobs for promotion and few owned their own home. I decided I like Herbert and decided I would not apply for other jobs, so I purchased some land. There was the uproar that I could not do that! Mainly from Dunedin Office. Why? Well they could give no reason.
Laurie King, Senior Ranger, Invercargill offered me a job at Dusky Forest! No promotion, just another job! Dusky, gumboot capital of Southland! He did not take my refusal well.
But in the end I stuck it up him. There were these Wajax pump competitions held at Tapanui each year. We never entered a team because I was not interested in all the palaver. However there came the dictate we had to go. So I was trainer/team member. Old Laurie was mates with Dave Swindells who trained the Logging Team. They always won! Well we beat them and won the competion with a time very close to 1 minuite - the minute make had never been broken! We had a few innovations and also I hassled the judges, but were asked to do another run to try to break the mark. We agreed and half way down the first run, Skip Wilson, who was carrying the pump, stumbled and fell - I ran beside him and I saw he turned it into a forward roll, I grabbed the pump and assisted him to his feet. We did it in 58 seconds.
The sour faces of Laurie and Dave did not alter when in my victory speech I told them I was sorry that they just could not hack the pace. It was sweet.

I mention these things for my amusement, and of course there are many more. Some devious and unmentionable - so I won't.

But talking about devious.... my mates Albert Stringer and Jack Williamson, who was OiC.

For a while we had been making a pleasant garden area at the Forest HQ. It was coming along fine and the three of us took great pride in it.
Keith Prior was District Ranger and though he was perceived to be bumbling, most were a little afraid of him - actually I liked him.
Anyway Keith wanted to do species trials and asked me to lay out some plots for planting them out.
I was not there when the trees arrived, and I was unaware that Albert and Jack took a number of the trees and planted in the HQ garden area.
I took delivery of the plants and recorded them, and planted them out. I enjoy that sort of thing!
Come February, Keith asked me to do a survival count and report on the species trial. Hello! He wanted to know why there was a number discrepancy. Would I count them again. I was sure of my work, but said I would. Albert nor Jack said a word! My count was correct and I relayed that to Keith. Keith was angry and cast dispersions on my parentage and ability to count - he would be up in the morning to count them for himself.
Unbeknown to me, Albert and Jack went to the site with grubbers and made new planting holes then stuck dead sticks in them to look like dead trees.
The minute I saw them I knew what they had done - Keith did not tumble to it and I did not tell him. He was fairly furious with me, but encouraged by the growth of the live trees.
A few months later, as we looked around the HQ site plantings, Keith identified his 'missing' trees, by saying, 'These are doing well.' The red faces on Albert and Jack were enough for Keith and he said no more.
Years later, when he was Conservator of Forests and I Herbert's logging officer, we went to Christchurch together to try to drum up business. He asked me how those trial plots were now, and I told him that we have removed a few as a thinning operation and some had ended up in various gardens.
'Better that throwing them away.' he said, 'And the ones at HQ? You kept your tongue between your teeth eh!' He smiled.
I bear no grudge - they were good guys, just covering their own posteriors.

Running out of land

1968 was the last major planting on the North Block of the forest as there was no further land bank and the official plan was that Herbert Forest would be 'mothballed' until the trees were mature enough to harvest.

Well this seemed to be the plan of District Office, which I suppose was the plan of Conservancy Office. It did not take into account that the workers on the forest were local people with their homes in Herbert/Waianakarua and were very loyal to the forest.

Sometimes public servants can be that way - make decisions that effect other people majorly and only worry for their own skins.

While there was no 'official' area to plant for 1969, I had prepared a good area of land, in small lots, that were unstocked for a variety of reasons. They thought I did not realise that planting a younger age group trees in such patches would cause management problems. Well I knew, and would deal with those problems when the time came - its called 'flexibility'. What was important was that there was an extra year of planting for the workers.

Then there was the release cutting a labour intensive way of removing weed growth that was suppressing newly planted seedlings. This was done using slashers. Yes, I knew that the work could be done with aerially applied chemicals and I took a little flak over that, but I was buying time.

Breakneck Road bisected the forest and was rabbit-proof fenced on each side. The fence served no useful purpose, so that was another task I kept the crew busy with by pulling it down. We stored the material for future [possible] use.

Bert Fraser farmed a 4 000 acre block of gorse-covered land in the hills behind Waianakarua. This was the guy who owned the stallion, Cassius. I went to see old Bert. He was an old bachelor, rough around the edges with many a tale attributed to him - urban myths. Perhaps.

He was sitting by the fire drinking tea when I called, and he filled a cup for me after tipping out the dregs of a previous brew. I noted the .22 rifle propped against the fireplace.

'Rabbits!' he had noticed my gaze.

Old Bert was ready to sell his land - he felt he was getting old [he used to score a hat trick in Dunedin most weekends - but could only manage two now,he told me] and the place was unprofitable as there was too much gorse. Also Cassius was past it!

The way NZFS acquired land then was for the owner to offer it at a price; the offer was considered and either accepted or declined.

I spent a few nights with Bert preparing the offer and typing it out for him. He then took it to Dunedin for his lawyer to check and send off to District Office.

We heard nothing about this at forest level, but Bert informed me sometime later that his offer was declined because of the cost of establishing forest in gorse, and the lack of need for more areas of forest at Herbert/Waianakarua. This was the outcome of a report by Geo B Wilkinson, Dunedin District Forester.

I actually considered buying the land on my own account but my accountant brother wisely pointed out the folly to me.

I went to see Allan Dick, Member of Parliament for Otago and my friend and neighbor. He understood exactly what my point of view was as he once owned Lilybank Station. He took the matter up with the Minister of Forests.

2iC Dunedin District, Percy Parker arrived at Forest Headquarters spitting tacks! The Dunedin Office as well as the Invercargill Office were upset [the word may be too mild] that HQ, Wellington had purchased the land! While at least the Dunedin Office were very sure I had 'meddled' in this issue, they did not accuse me, but for a while I felt the frost towards me from several quarters. It didn't worry me and I rubbed Percy's nose in it that day.

'Well,' my smile was wider than the Waianakrua River, for this was the first I had heard the news, 'there are 4 000 acres and I guess 2 000 plus are plantable. At a rate of 100 per year, that provides work for 20 years!'

His reply is not worth recording.

In fact there were not 20 years of planting because we upped the planting rate to 100 hectares per annum - and more. But more land was later acquired further south.

A young Forester, Clive Anstey arrived and the two of us planned the layout of the forest together. He was a supporter. Mick Hill played a major part as the D6 bulldozer operator, I flagged the roadlines with linen strips. I used an ex-army abney level to find the best gradient possible. Sometimes difficult to do and at times I was not far in front of Mick on that bulldozer! As my chainman, Colin (Hooks) Bartrum and I surveyed the roads and compartments. Just chain and compass surveys, but they were very accurate. There was nothing handy (of known origin) to tie the survey in to, so I took lines from Trigs H & I. They were easy to find actually and I have to commend those surveyors who established them in the 1860's. The rock work around Trig I is amazing!

Bill McKerrow was our Northerly neighbor - Dr Douglas was another; he was a tree man and pleased to see us purchase the land.

Bill liked the idea of getting a new boundary fence - free. But Dunedin Office were demanding that we supply the materials and the neighbor erects the fence. It had been customary that we did the whole job and Bill was aware of that, so insisted that the new fence be of concrete post & strainers and eight plain No8 wires.

Well, I wanted to compromise because there were a couple of other issues to consider. The fence should be exactly on the corrrect line - there had been too many problems arise form poorly located fences. We could not establish a satisfactory firebreak on the boundary because of unsuitable topography. Bill had thick gorse on his side of the fence too.

'Once you guys have your trees growing, I won't be able to burn my gorse, will I.' Bill asked me.

'No.' I replied.

'How am I going to control my gorse then?' he asked. Actually he had not been managing his gorse at all!

'Look Bill,' I explained, 'this is my advice to you - we will burn off and prepare you land for planting. We will put up the fence on the exact line using sercond hand materials, and you can plant trees on your side and have a forest crop and income. The firebreak will be your grass paddock.' I didn't say [or let on but he would need to put his own fence up to protect his trees.

To Dunedin Office I said, 'We will have a common boundary with Bill McKerrow and the firebreak will be his grass paddocks - he will be responsible because he is protecting his own trees; his invesment. As for the fence, we have the materials on hand, [the stuff from Breakneck Road] so the only cost we have is putting it up - so we can do that very cheaply. It will be the same as Dr Douglas. He is allowing us access through his property until the entrance road is made - that's about a year. If we put the fence up, he won't charge us for the privelege . That will make all our neighbors having the same deal.'

As it turned out, we had surplus tree seedings and they 'got planted on McKerrows side of the fence'.

Some 22 years later, Bill harvested those trees and made good money - he told me I had given him sound advice!

Funny how things turn out!

I used that information during my seminars in Tanzania.

Christmas

During Christmas/New Year, we would stand down most of the forest workers so they could have a decent break after a usually full-on year. A skeleton staff would be kept on though as quick response in the event of fire.

Unless I was on my own, there were two of us staff people and plus three others - enough to operate the Wajax fire pump. Mind you - just what could be done! There were two Wajax Trailers that carried 200 gallons of water each - though we didn't have a good vehicle to tow them. The old Bedford had enough power, but the steep hill into the forest was difficult to negotiate as it was a gravel road and traction was a problem.

The old Commer I drove lacked power. It had plenty of wick in low gear and I remember 'rushing' up the Herbert Hill to put out a fire on telephone pole. It was low gear all the way and very slow.

The trailers held packs of fire hose, tools like axes, grubbers/mattocks and fire rakes. The pump was mounted on the back. The Wajax was a two cylinder two stroke engine that roared at millions of decibels (we had no ear-muffs). Sometimes they were hard to start because two stroke fuel mixtures had a high oil content and if the petrol evaporated out - the spark plugs became coated and would not spark. They were good though.

I have seen it though when the 200 gallons of water filled the hose (because it was so long) that no water came out the end!

There was also a canvas 'mini-dam' that was used to pump water to at the limit of the Wajax's power, and another pumped the water on.

So if we had a big fire outbreak, we would have to call for help! I didn't happen - at least during Christmas/New Year.

At 9:00am we took weather readings - for the met. service and for fire control records, then at 1:00pm we took weather readings for fire control. At ten minutes past the hour we radioed the record through to the Tapanui office. Main thing to know was the relative humidity, wind direction and strength and the weight of the sticks representing lighter fuels. This gave a fire danger reading and provided an alertness factor. It was a good system and reliable.

Even though our worker all lived locally, the Forest Service policy was to allow people two days travel to reach their homes. On the last work day, it would be a clean-up day, tidying things and sharpening tools.

Sometimes firms that we worked with would bring us some beer, or we would 'take the hat around' and buy beer and pies (one day Archie Woodrew cooked up a huge pot of new spuds! That was a treat!). We would sit in the shade under the silver birch trees, drinking and eating; or if it was cold, in the 4 Bay Garage. The drinking would start at around 2:00pm but Albert and I were usually busy tying up loose ends for at least another hour.

Most of the workers, being creatures of habit, left on the dot of 4:30pm which was the usual knockoff time. The rest of us would stay on, often until the beer ran out - but some was always kept in reserve for the standby crew.

Some drunk a little more than was appropriate, others much more, but generally behavior was good and all managed to find their way home sooner or later - but safely.

We often had school boys working for the holidays and we allowed them a drink or two and managed them. One young guy from Waianakarua managed to get into a fight on the way home! Another from the township complained to his father that we had been to tough and did not allow him enough beer. His father later complained to me and suggested next time he be given more. Well the obvious happened and the next year the father complained that we allowed the boy to have too much!

Good social times during a good era.

Gerry Kavanah

Gerry was the District office clerk and he welder more power than he actually had! Most similar to the TV series 'Yes Minister'!
Mind you Gerry did keep us on the straight and narrow and I recall that he would check that the ballpoint pen was empty before he would issue another. Likewise the flat files we used to sharpen our slashers. He would rub a finger down it to make sure there was no cut left!

I think he mellowed a bit after a Stores Officer was appointed to take the load off him - but he kept checking.
I'm left handed and found it difficult to press firmly enough on the quadruple forms I was required to fill in - oh it didn't help that there was no colour left - so I was given a second hand typewriter; more like one that otherwise would have been tossed out! I sprayed the mechanism with CRC and still strained my digits pushing the keys down. Lining up 4 copies was mission as well.!
But what about the Facit adding machine? Noah used it to tally up how many animals were on the Ark! A box with a handle and keys with a metal read out - adding one way with the handle, subtracting the other. Multiplying by the number of times you turned the thing, and dividing by turning backwards until the bell rand and then one the other way. When Gerry handed these over, it was as if he was giving a gold clock!

Gerry had a military background and did command respect and he knew a lot of people - the bosses listened to him and took his advice - just live that TV programme.
He used to bring up the wages each fortnight. He drove up in a Public Service car (they had a pool of them) I think he could have used a NZFS car, but nobody would loan theirs because he was a hopeless driver! Give him credit though, each time he would stop at the Palmerston bakery and buy some flash cakes to shout for us at afternoon tea - his stories lasted well beyond the allotted time!

He was firm in his belief that it was not wise to marry a nurse of a school teacher - somehow he had the notion they do not work hard enough. I do not share that philosophy!
On marriage - when I became engaged to be married, he told me that before long I would be a statistic! And after I was married, each time he would ask the question, 'Are you a statistic yet?'
I guess his faith in human nature was not there.

There were all sorts of rules - I used to think made up as we went along. One time I wrote something or other in green ink. Probably because no other pen was working. Abruptly the report came back with a terse note 'Green is the colour exclusively for auditors - redo!' I redid.

Shale

I was reading Letters to the Editor in the Otago Daily Times (5 December 2008) and found a report that Hydrocarbons in shale was the new 'Black Gold' and the writer was fearing for the ecological sanity of the Central Otago area.

Well old Russell Ewing was cleverer that he was given credit for.
I remember him showing me some shale - it looked just like river-worn quartz rock to me. But if was smooth and 'slippery' to the touch. He kept a bit of it in his truck and on the windowsill of his office.
'One day,' he told me, 'people will extract kerosene from this rock - even jet fuel!'
I had respect for old Russell, but I did not full believe this, but it remained stored in the storage file of my brain.

I read that in the paper and realised that he was correct!

I don't know anything else about it, but thought I would share what I know.

Behind Government Hill

You can find Government Hill, Herbert on Google Earth! It is the highest point on the North Block of the forest 1395' from memory.

We planted the area behind Government Hill in 1965 (its all been harvested now). It is a reasonably steep area, probably too steep for extraction by ground machine - probably hauler, but having said that, modern machines are able to work  on steeper country than we used to!

Mainly the area had a cover of silver tussock, Poa cita and on a reasonably dry day it is easy to burn off. The area goes right down to the boundary, the North Branch of the Waianakarua River. On the other side of the river is run country - that is a large sheep run.

I was keen to protect the forest boundary, and the best protection from fire is native bush. Native bush was regenerating on the run side of the river and I gave it my moral support. However, the landowner made a profit from grass, not bush/scrub and his only tool was fire. He was safe enough to burn it, because fire only travels well uphill. It was always very apparent to me when he tried to burn the area - I saw the smoke! I would go down there with a shovel! This was quite an epic walk really, but I was fit, I guess. As he lit the fire, I would beat it out with my shovel. I was always under cover of smoke or bush and he never did see me! He tried over a few seasons, but as it was a southerly face, I presume he guessed it to be difficult to burn. I guess I won this battle and now the area is under to jurisdiction of the Department of Conservation. I don't think anyone knows what I did :-)

In those days we used mattocks to plant the trees - a method these days condemned as a bad technique. The trees came from Milton, the NZFS nursery. Radiata Pine, in bundles of 25 tied with flax and puddled (dipped in muddy water). On site we heeled them in into pits. The trees were much smaller than those planted today. I have even seen the stems split by frost and the sap that oozed out had become frozen. Even in the most sever drought we achieved at least a 75% survival. As time went on we changed to spade planting and the seedlings were conditioned differently. Today I remain in the nursery industry and our forestry clients impose all sorts of specifications, well we meet them, but you would think that anything less than those specifications would not survive!

Gib Green was the Leading Hand and he led his troops well. He had served in Egypt in WWII and I found him to be a gentleman. He biked from Waianakarua each day and took his turn at being a target for joking. Things like someone putting heavy rocks in his tucker bag for him to carry out of the gully and home! A dew pond frozen over in winter was another trick, someone put is tucker bag in the middle and he had to go out on hands and knees to retrieve it - a dangerous thing, and the crew saw me frown over it. The other dangerous thing was placing his tucker bags in a three foot culvert, and when he went in, someone lit a gorse bush to smoke him out! This was a culture where there was fun and danger in the work place and I tried to keep things in control. But how could I not laugh when I came to supervise them just after lunch. Gib as usual had a snooze after his lunch, and the others (George Mitchell, I bet!) tied Gib's boot laces together and they sneaked away. Gib woke on hearing my approach and tried to hurry off, alas he was lying down legs up when I caught up with him!

Mick Hill was another trickster. He drove the D6 Bulldozer. When we were planting the back of Government Hill, old Herbie Welsh, the truck driver managed to get the old K Bedford (numbered and known as 1140) stuck. Mick pushed him out, but kept putting the blade of the dozer under the towball and lifting the rear wheels off the ground. And stopping and going - Herbie's teeth clenched his pipe with determination and rocked with the motion thinking it was his efforts that made the truck go! Micks eyes were glistening and he grinned like Popeye as he too smoked a pipe!

Good nature and camaraderie was always apparent at this time and it made everyone's lot a happier one. Oh as I am on this, the other trick and this is not the first this has happened but - one of the guys needed to do his business, and you guessed it, another took a shovel and collected it as he passed it (I'm talking poo, motions or whatever you want to call it - I have tried not to say the sh word). So the guy thinking he had done a lot, looked back to see he had done nothing! The roars of laughter told him what had happened.

Compartment 41

This is a photo of wind damage caused by the gale of 1 August 1975. I will describe this weather event later, but the photo is of Compartment 41.

Compartment 41 was the first planting at Herbert Forest - why it is not called 'Compartment 1, I do not know and in fact there was no Compartment 1, 2,3 or 4 for that matter.

The area is only 8 acres and it was planted over two years; 1948 & 48. The first tree was planted by all who were there but as I wasn't, I can't be sure of all but I know Jack Lawn, Laurie Hore, Gib Green and Bert Moir.

Bert Moir was originally employed as a Rabbiter and had bought a block of land off Reid Road (running up to Mt Misery Road) after the war (WWII). The local Otepopo school kids used to hide from him in those early days because they feared him as he rode his horse to the Herbert Store dressed in his khaki clothes, bushman's hat and legs wrapped in puttees. A rifle in a scabbard. But Bert wouldn't harm a fly ... well, I want to do a bit of a profile on him as he was one of those wonderful characters. In the artillery based at Port Lyttleton (the Heads) he told me they were guarding the port entrance and all incoming craft were supposed to identify themselves. One small fishing boat did not, so the officer, thinking the crew were gutting fish or asleep, ordered Bert to fire a round across her bows. Well he hit the boat midships and sank her! What eventuated was never related to me, but his rendition of a later incident, he thought may have been a punishment.

He was in occupation force in Japan and was ordered to guard a train of a trip for one place to another. He alone was the guard and he became concerned, if a little frightened that the train was gathering too much speed. It seemed to be rocking to & fro with reckless abandon! So he thought he would exercise his authority and order the driver to slow the train down, but he did not understand him, so Bert flourished his rifle, and the driver and fireman put their hands up. This concerned Bert even more because the train seemed to be going faster, and now nobody was controlling it! He decided to lower his weapon. The fireman smiled at him and took from his bag a new bottle of Johnny Walker whiskey. Bert knew very well that it must have been pilfered from the good he was supposed to be guarding, but on the other hand he was partial to a drop - so the three shared the bottle. His fear of the careering train slowly evaporated as the level in the bottle lowered. They arrived safely at their destination and the Americans to whom he delivered the train did not notice that he had been imbibing!

Anyway back to Compartment 41.

Because the area was more or less a demonstation site, and it was accessable to the road (Breakneck Road - then a public road), the silviculture was kept up to standard. Silviculture? Tending of trees to make them as marketable as possible. This basically means pruning and thinning. Pruning to remove lower branches, thus producing clear wood outside the pruning scars. Thinning, like a row of carrots, to make them grow fatter.

In the old days we used to use Orsa saw blades on wooden handles - difficult things to sharpen and thse days jacksaws are used with throw away blades or often loppers are favoured.

Pruning is done in a series of lifts and should be dome only to half tree height, though there has been a school of thought that 1/3 green crown remaining was ok. so in this area the first lift was 0 - 6 feet, later 6 - 12 feet, later again 12 - 18 feet next 18 - 24 feet, and here 24 - 32 feet! No longer carried out because of the cost. You can not use saws on the end of poles for this. A platform was used - climb the 16 foot ladder and fix around the tree the platform; stnad on the platform and pull the ladder up between your legs and sit it in the hooks on the platform; climb the ladder and continue pruning.

Obviously this was a very hard job, and I remember the bonus target of 42 trees per day being set for the 24 - 32 foot lift. A most expensive operation and no longer carried out - where would you get the workers anyway?
The picture is grainy but you get the idea.

Frank Ford carried out the production thinning operation, contracted to McCullum & Co - later to become Fletchers/Placemakers. Every tree in the block had a mark on it - Foresters! And we were required to cut some of the trees ourselves to measure them and test the volume tables. Colin Bartrum and I did this. Franks young brother Adrian also was there making money while he was starting up his tree nursery business - oh yes he will come later because I ended up working for him!

When you prune trees to such a height, they must be thinned appropriately to gain the maximum clear wood outside the pruned stubs. This puts the stand at risk to wind throw. That night of 1 August 1975, I stopped in the moonlight at around 1:00 am to wathch the trees thrashing around, the crowns catching the wind like a sail and the stems bending unnaturally! Snap, the stem would break! I didn't stay too long it was dangerous and returning home would be an adventure in the conditions.

The following 12 months saw me leading a team to salvage as much fallen timber as possible from the damaged crop around the forest, but Compartment 41 was the biggest loss because the trees had snapped, rather than toppling.

I visited the area recently and the third crop is established, but look, the war has not been won over the gorse.

Bird Events

I have always had a passing interest in birds and generally what surrounds me, so I thought I would jot down some events about birds that may be of interest.

I was timber cruising at Tuatapere early 1963 - oh timber cruising? This was assessing merchantable indigenous timber in standing trees. Sawmills would bid for the timber on the basis of the volume we assessed. You had to careful though because if the mill out turn proved less than you had assessed, you would have to go back and find where your mistake was - that is over rough cutover bush. Then of course if the sawmiller cut more than you assess, he is very pleased, but you have done the government out of revenue!

Anyway, one day I was hunting there and stalked a noise that I was unfamiliar with. It was a rare native parrot the Kakapo. I never reported this but there you are - I have seen one in the wild!

Kakapo

At the same time as this (roughly) I saw an Australian Magpie in our camp compound. Now I have always been familiar with this pest. Yes it is a pesky introduced bird to New Zealand! It has been known to rob the nests of our indigenous birds.

Aussie Magpie

The Magpie is an aggressive bird and will attack people and the Harrier Hawk, but our indigenous Tui will chase Magpies out of their territory. We have been feeding Tui and Bellbird at our home for a number of years. But Tui disappeared for a number of years. One day, possibly 1967, I was walking by along the road, just at the start of Middle Ridge Road when I was attraced by the sound of wing movement, and when I looked up, I saw a lone Tui flying above me.

Then for some years, I saw no Tui around the forest. However after we purchased the Fraser Block (South Block) out by Trig J for a period of time time (weeks) we could regularly hear the calling of Tui. Then, I can't remember the exact year, maybe 1976, a lone Tui turned up at the feed bowl Albert tended at Forest HQ for the Bellbirds. We thought this so remarkable, that I phone the Acclimatisation Society who told me that this was probably an outcast male bird that would probably die. However the bird continued to feed, and one day another appeared, then another and gradually a population thrived in the area and many people are now feeding them. Certainly at our place I have seen as many as five juveniles at one time. Another name for these birds is 'parson bird' because the distinctive white feather at the throat looks like a Clerical Collar.

Albert used to feed the birds, he had a contact who supplied sugar sweepings from a factory and he mixed it with water and this attracted the nectar eating birds. There was this myth about Bellbirds locally, they were referred to as Mokkers because it was perceived they would mock calls (whistles) that people made. This is not exactly correct. They will answer your whistle if you or imitate theirs, but in fact the Tui are more likely to mock other birds. Now about Bellbirds - Banks and other early observers painted Bellbirds with purple 'cheeks' - the purple actually was pollen from the native flowering tree fuchsia.

It should be recorded also that Richard Matches carried out research for a thesis to prove that Bellbirds had a localised language, a dialect if you like. Those tapes of his must be somewhere? This guy also recorded (no too sure if it was local at Herbert) the call of the now extinct Laughing Owl! I remember that the was very upset to find that someone at the university or museum had inadvertently wiped the tape clean! Actually he was gutted!

It is said that the call of the Shining Cuckoo heralds spring and it is time to plant potatoes! Very often the Shining Cuckoo can be heard around home but they are very had to see close up. These birds lay their egg in another bird's nest and once hatched, the chick will push the other chicks out and the foster parents raise the young Cuckoo. Anyway one day a Shining Cuckoo flew into a widow and was killed. It was in good shape, so I looked at it closely and sent it off to Otago Museum and I have no idea what they did with it.

I hope it has been useful. These birds migrate and return in the spring.

The other event of note was 1973 when for the first time we saw a Spurwinged Plover on Linday Clearwater's flat below Fraser Block. These are squawking birds from Australia too and serve no useful purpose here.
They also attack you if you pass by their nest and they obviously fly at night because you often hear their calls.

The NZ Wood Pigeon is also common now in our locality. The Maori prized this bird for food, but these days they are protected and numbers have increased. They browse on Tree Lucerne, Broom, Willow and other soft vegetation at this time of the year. Later when the cherry plumbs are ripening, they feast on them, spitting the stone out as they eat. The Kereru mates for life and so are most often seen in pairs.

One time - maybe 1985/6 we often heard what sounded like turkeys gobbling in Hoods Creek. None were ever seen & this remains a mystery today - though few would ever remember!

Some time 1986 after a burn in the Trotters Gorge block, the very clean fire revealed a small gold mining claim with a water race and it was obvious that some sluicing had taken place. In a rock overhang we found a gold pan and small board that was used for extracting gold. Further up the ridge we found a shaft that we plugged up for safety reasons. But in a small area of swampy tussock we heard the loud wind beat, and later identified the elusive Fernbird. Not many people see these birds, and I recall taking a group of Forest & Bird Society people to view them.

Cassius the Stallion

I had been in negotiation with Bert Fraser so NZFS could buy has farm - which is another story entirely!
Bert's farm was gorse covered and did not have much vehicle access, so he rode the bag of bones that was Cassius the stallion. This day I was looking for Bert and found hime by his broken down sheep yards, sitting on a stool massaging grease on to Cassius' penis! Cassius' eyes were not rolled back in pleasure though!
"What on earth are you doing?" I asked.
I knew a bit about horses and had never seen anything like this before!

Kit, a draft mare was transfered to Herbert from Beaumont Forest and we had used her to extract larch rails. Kit became redundant and was sold to Ralph Oaks, one of our workers and a guy who was interested in horses. He had decided to use Kit as a brood mare and taken her to Cassius for service. Apparently, when a mare has had enough of a stallion, she may kick out at him (a good groom should be aware of this - I was told). Kit kicked out at Cassius sticking him on his still extened penis (out of its sheath).

According to Bert, the penis wouldn't/couldn't retract into its sheath! And no, the grease wasn't to lubricate it so it would go back in, obviously, the extended penis was prone to sunburn, so he was slapping the grease on as a sunscreen!

Life really is interesting, don't you think?

Two more characters

Something happened this morning to remind me about Charlie Crisp. He started the business in Oamaru called 'Concrete Products', which specialised in concrete water tanks and concrete fence posts.
Charlie won a contract to cut posts out of the forest as he had set up a timber treatment plant. Post cutting was hard workand those old chainsaws were unreliable, heavy and were 'unrefined' (for a better word).
I remember calling at the block they were cutting to find him with a young Doug Stanaway cross cutting the last of a trailer load of posts. Charie was operating the chainsaw, and Doug was pouring oil on the bar. The oiler had broken down (or the orifice had blocked).
Anyone these days who knows how to operate a chainsaw would smile at this as they nowadays have automatic oilers and filters, making them very reliable.

Land Preparation

Gorse

One of the most expensive costs associated with forestry can be land preparation! Certainly as far as we were concerned at Herbert Forest, gorse was the biggest weed problem; bracken fern was also a problem as was grass - cocksfoot & fog being the worst.

Gorse was introduced as a hedging plant which was a fence as well as shelter on most farms. It was trimmed as a nice tidy fence and the trimmings were often burnt. But gorse is dispersed by the pod 'firing' the hard seed out on to new ground and the seed can remain viable in the soil for something like 70 years! Burning stimulates the seed to grow (cracks the seed coat to allow moisture into the embryo) and gorse coppices, regrowing from stumps. It is an invasive plant and difficult to control.

Whole farms were invaded by gorse, forcing farmers off the land. Forestry is one way of controlling the weed.

Land clearing by mechanical or chemical means is much easier today, but we were involved in many trials of gorse (and other weed) control, so control was much more difficult.

The Diamond Hill Block offered a good opportunity to carry out trials as the whole area was solid gorse, at least two metres high! The first thing the technicians wanted to find out was how many seedlings per hectare germinated after a burn. I actually didn't need to know; I already did - lots! But they were not prepared to take my word for it. Lines were cut (using my workers) and plots laid down 1/10 of an acre they were. Marked by rods of steel rod so they would not burn!

A funny thing happened after the burn; Herbie thought the steel rods might be handy at home so he collected them all up. So the plots marks were lost and the conclusion was that lots of seedlings germinated.

245T and Tordon were the main chemicals used, and I was in charge of the application, so flew in many fixed wing and helicopter sorties with some pilots that I trusted and some I couldn't wait to see the back of - that may become a topic.

Anyway, a few rules for controlling gorse. And what I am referring to is to prepare land for tree planting.

1. It is a waste of money expecting to kill standing gorse. Chemical will only translocate about 40cm. So burn off the gorse first. If you dare - these days not much burning is done.

2. Spray the regrowth/seedling growth when it is about 30 cm tall.

3. Plant after this. Then spot spray using Velpar granules.

Provisos - the burn must be clean - that is leaving no sticks standing. When that happened and we had no other choice, we had to linecut - using slashers. Never done these days but often in the past.

These lines in the center were hand cut - Reefton

So these days mechanical methods are best to prepare land, but shasher work was common and I remember Herbie's hands becoming fixed in the shape of holding a slasher, and had operations to loosen the tendons - but they remained permanently crooked.

The 'powers that be decided that we all should wear safety hats - even if there was nothing to fall on our heads. There was general resentment about this and many of my workers refused, but loyally, Bert wore his as an example to the rest, old Gibb's white hair became stained with the color of the hat band! Eventually though the rule became forgotten and nobody wore them linecutting. Bert always kept his in the rear window of his old Consul car.

It was hot in those gulley in the summer time, and we had to keep up production - the guy's did an admirable job. One local farmer told me that the forest was like an old man's club as they were all lazy. I challenged him to keep up for a week. He didn't last half a day!

Bracken fern was a big problem too, it often erupted after planting, and in gulleys, growing to 4 metres high! The tree maybe 30 cm! So lines had to be cut to release them, a hot and dusty job (fern had its own dust - a pretty brown, that got up your nose and in your eyes/ears). In cutting the stuff it is not realised that you have to put the cut material somewhere and the wind shouldn't push it onto the trees! So it was not easy. Later Asulox was used; sprayed on with 20% diesel and an emulsifier. This proved good control and after the burn only about 10% regenerated.

With fog grass, we developed a chemical mix that could be applied by air, but today spot spraying with Velpar is the ideal.

So establishing a crop of trees was hard work and technical too. Most of them have now been harvested, and who would know of the contribution these men made!

Things Maori

There has been a lot of Maori activity through Herbert Forest, perhaps I should say, 'North Otago'. Some of this is what old Russell told me, some is my understanding and some is what I have actually seen.
In the center of this picture you can see the clear hill with a flat top and the 'spoil' to the right of it. It looks like it could have been a Pa site.

Then there is this other area overlooking the Mill House, many suspect that this was in fact the Pa site. I have an old black & white photo of the same area, from a distance which may give a better view.

The story goes that there was a Maori warrior chief, who traveled down the West Coast with his band of marauding followers.

When he attacked the Riverton Maori, (no doubt they would have had a tribal name of their own), one man 'swam to an island, then travelled inland to bypass the marauders. He warned the other tribal groups of a pending attack, but none of them acted upon the warning.'

The Waianakarua Maori did prepare (or was that the Moeraki? Though I was told the Waianakarua). They prepared a Pa to fight the marauders off; on either of the above sites. In fact there was a battle but not at either Pa site - it was in the Otepopo Bush and many artifacts have been found there.

The Waianakarua Maori 'fought the marauders into the sea', but a man, a woman and a child became separated and they fled into the area that is not Herbert Forest. They were said to have lived in a cave somewhere in Hoods Creek. Personally I have searched Hoods Creek and doubt that there was a cave there - it is schist rock. More likely, they lived in the cave at the head of Swallows Creek, just below Nat Stevenson's house. There is a distinct drawing there of a dog and eroded other drawings that can only be seen using a mister. After about a year, the three joined with the Waianakarua Maori - peacefully. It is said that the Waianakarua Maori hid a cache of greenstone in the boggy pond on Bluff Hill which is surrounded by Ngaio trees - the cache was never recovered.

There has been other activity by Maori in the North Block, and seemingly not so much in the Southern Blocks. But there are rock drawings in the outcrop not far inside the the southern boundary of the South Block; and the extensive caves in Nicholson's property must have housed some at some time. Also there was Native Bush just South of the boundary which was vested to the Moeraki Maori (as a fuel supply) during land 'settlements'.

Road 12, Pa Road is called that because of a Pa site there. When Bob Frame worked the paddocks there he recovered (I think) 3 sacks of artifacts which apparently have been lost. I have looked to locate this site unsuccessfully, but there is a line of basalt rock that must have come from Government Hill which is not far away. I found also some of the red sandstone which is from the Southern side of Hoods Creek, but the conclusion was it came as weights on Bob Frame's discs (probably horse drawn).

But there are umu, Maori ovens scattered through the North Block, seldom on the South Block and one massive one across Shepherd's Creek. Again I have looked at these and carried out research, never finding an artifact or bone. These were used in the harvest of cabbage trees Cordyline australis for the production of food starch and perhaps sugars.

These umu were all carefully recorded and mapped for the Otago Museum. Logging in the forest, and subsequent clearing has probably damaged a lot of them. The umu were lost to visibility with thick weed growth, but after a clean burn, or when the trees are mature and beneath them it is clear, then the umu are visible.

There is a line of basalt rocks on the top of Government Hill, similar to the one by the Pa site, and we assume it was a boundary mark of some kind.

Before gorse colonised the area, Herbert Forest - both North and South Blocks must have provided spectacular vantage points, and the forest would have been home to much birdlife as there is today. Moa and Weka are the most notable birds that no longer live there. But even in my time, when pig hunting, I could not hear the barking of the dogs because of the evening chorus of the Bellbirds!

Just an addition about Moa. Moa is an extinct bird - probably the largest bird that has walked this planet.

Newspaper reporters often rang the forest to pick up news snippets. Albert had overheard a conversation between myself and the then Officer in Charge, Jack Williamson. On the bottom flat, I had found some pieces of an old mower that is the machine to cut grass, to make hay. Just previously we had all been talking about Moa in the district.

So when the newspaper reporter rang, Albert was by himself in the office. When pressed 'Is there any news?' His reply was, 'No, there is nothing,' but after a pause he added, 'We have found Moa bones on the bottom flat.'

The report was in the paper the next day!

A bit more about the area

A wee leap forward for a bit : I think it was 1984 when there was a big flood and a few things happened. The Herbert Hill slumped and the main electricity line had to be shifted - actually this was put through my paddock on a temporary basis and it is still there today; illegally! But I'm not on about this yet. The Ministry of Works in clearing the clay from the road, decided to dump it in the middle of the river - at Frame's Crossing. This was an illogical thing to do for the river bed is gravel, which rolls down to the sea during floods, but the clay caused a change in the flow. Allan Ross had a crop of turnips in his paddock beside the river, but the next flood caused all this to wash away because of the clay left in the river. Previously the river bed was reasonably tidy but now it is an expanse of gravel that is prone to weed growth that is expensive to control.


The flood though was as high as I have ever seen it! It washed the road out over the gully just before the sawmill and it left a huge log on the bridge to prevent access to the forest. To carry that large log meant there was a massive amount of water! We removed the log and access was again possible, but then I heard another story: Jock Anderson told me that he was living in Nat Stevenson's house and he had been to the Herbert Store with his wife, Jessie, each on horseback. When they reached the bridge, there was water about ankle deep flowing across it! He rode across, but Jessie was afraid, so he returned on foot and led her, mounted on her horse across!

He said he had seen the river like that one other time! There is no way that I would cross that bridge under those circumstances!

Of course the flood caused damage to the Herbert water scheme pumps - flooding out the pump shed which was very high, and filling the intake with sand. As this was a community project we supplied a pump and a couple of men to clean it out and this took about a week to do! The flood also caused a lot of damage to forest roads and it was expensive to carry out the repairs.
As well the culvert crossing the Glenburnie Creek was washed away preventing access to Cosy Dell.

It is amazing how quickly these episodes are forgotten!

Back now: Just West of the bridge was a track down to the river bed - it passed through a small plantation of Radiata Pine (huge trees) - this is what we called 'Maggie's Pit'. We needed road metal (gravel) on our roads to provide good all weather access, and this is where we sourced our road metal.

As I have said elsewhere, the Waianakarua River is one of the very few actually owned by the landowner, and Margaret MacKay owned this area. The pit had been used for years, and Phil Wilkie told me how he has won the contract to spread gravel on the Herbert Hill (years ago) and had loaded his trucks by hand, using a shovel! The truck carried 4 cubic yards!

Anyway Margaret usually did not charge us for the gravel, instead we would clear the gorse from her sections further along the river. Cliff Blaikie bought these sections much later.

Grave's Dam today

At Graves Dam there remain the concrete abutments of the water wheel that drove the small flour mill. There were also some of the sheds made from sawn timber. I am told that the mill did not operate for very long.

It may not be well remembered, but there was another dam, just South of Sharp's Corner. This dam was to provide a catchment area for the Phoenix Mill at Waianakarua. One morning though this dam was not there (1965/6); someone, for some reason had blown it up!

There are a few stories about the bridge - Skippy, the driver for Waitaki Transport carted posts out of the forest on a regular basis. Now originally, the bridge had trusses going across the top to hold it together - these were removed during some modification. Anyway one time Skippy load his truck so high that it jammed under the trusses, so he walked to HQ for assistance. I suggested letting the air out of the tyres, which was enough to let him pass through - we had a compressor there to top the tyres up later. Another time he left his Hiab (hydraulic crane) up and smashed it off on the first truss before he managed to stop! The bridge was made of Australian hardwood of very high quality! (some decorates our garden)

Charlie James did a similar thing with his Hiab, this time unloading at the mill and returning into the forest for another load. By then the trusses had been removed, but he wiped out all the power lines crossing the road!

One day it snowed, and I sent the forest workers home. I put chains on the old Commer truck and headed into the forest to see if I could find a pig. Bert's Mark I Consel could not climb the hill past the bridge - it was too icy.

I stopped just past his car and tied a rope to my truck. Bert just touched his car and off it slid backwards toward the river - we both feared that it would slip over the bank into the river! Bert began to make a move, but his feet went from under him and he fell flat on his back. There was comedy in this and I could not stifle a laugh! He must have hurt himself, but then I have seen the old bugger break a finger playfighting and never let on! The car did not go over the bank and I eventually pulled it to safety - I was mildly ashamed that I laughed, and feel guilty that the memory still makes me smile!

Oh yes I did get a big, fat pig!

More about the area.

Maggie Cunningham had not sold many of the crib sections, so there were not many local people in residence. Keith and Pat Gibson were next to the Sawmill. They became great friends and our families interacted well over the years.

Almost opposite was an old bridge from a ship that was going to be used as a crib, but it never happened and was taken away after a number of years. Charles Jones had a crib almost opposite the Headquarters Site - back off the road and there were many types of plants in the well kept area. Rather nice hazelnuts.

Next was Goblin Woods Old Mr & Mrs Matches - Bill died and I moved into some huts close to Mrs Matches and she looked after me. I mowed her lawn using an on spring-release starter. I would spend an hour getting the thing started and I would do no more than a round of cutting when she would bring drinks because 'I must be so tired!'.

One of he tricks was to put a pinch of salt in a cup of coffee to improve the flavor, and to be decadent, she would whip cream and place it on ginger-nut buscuits, then sprinkle with raspberry jelly crystals - yum! She taught me to cook wild pork or venison using tin foil and fruit like pineapple - yum again.

Along the road a bit was Tayor's crib, and that family regularly holidayed there. Still further the Leggetts had built a small holiday house. The next section was owned by Dr Laing and his wife, and the section above Grave's Dam was bought by the Gillies - the put an old gypsy type horse drawn carriage there. Opposite was Maggie Cunningham's empty house. Across the river to the south was Bert and Edna Moir, and a little further along Reid Road, Phil Bennett farmed.

To the North was Cona Lynn owned by Margaret MacKay (and the abandoned golf course with it's sod club house), then Ireland's house and just a little on was Dr & Mrs King's house - the latter three did not go there regularly, but old Johnny Watson would putter there each day on his green, BSA Bantam motorbike as he was the gardener and cared for the Rhododendrons and Azaleas.

The Blakeboroughs lived on the Herbert Hill, above the railway line - someone told me that there was an official station there 'if you stand there, passenger trains are supposed to stop!' Well I don't know, but certainly access was available because there were strong, railway-made gates there. A sailing tragedy saw the Blakeboroughs move to town and I visited Don in the Railways Signal House when I purchased the land off him. On the corner by the bridge Freddy Robertson was killed by his jersey bull - he was a show bull and Freddy thought of him as a pet!

Across the river, on the flats Billy Sharp farmed, his house was on the famed 'Sharp's Corner' - the scene of many road accidents, Billy marked his gate post each time there was an accident, and even featured in the newspaper! Francis stayed on after Billy's death and exceeding 75 years, she still slept in the bed she was concieved in - that has to be recorded!

The road was a gravel one until Alan Dick's move into the area prompted the Waitaki County Council to tar seal it. There had be droughts and a rabbit plague but despite this grose thrived - again Allan Dick had used his influence to try seeding the clouds with CO2 ice to cause rain. Well the dry finally ended and as always in North Otago, once the rain starts, it doesn't know when to stop!

Bob Collins

I have just heard with sadness that Bob Collins has died at the age of 84.
He was a friend and mentor of the 1962 intake of Ranger Trainees. Actually he was he was a lecturer and teacher as well as being a guide to us. We were 29 young bucks, and I suppose some of us were hard to handle - but he did a great job!

Later Bob would come to Herbert Forest to teach me about work study - the science of quantifying work output and creating bonus schemes to encourage higher production by increasing the hourly rate in relation to work output.
I enjoyed those times and his guidance about running a small forest. Manay of his teachings remain with me.

Bob you've earned a spell, peace to you.

Headquarters Site and Around

From SH1 you turn left on to Breakneck Road, but according to the Cadastral Maps held in the office, the road should be named Middle Ridge Road. The road passes over the Waianakarua River - the bridge was not build by the Waitaki County Council at all; it was privately built, paid for by the Irelands. Margaret MacKay showed me some photos of the bridge under construction and I am not sure if G T Gillies built or, or their GMC with a crane on was simply hired in but the photo was of the truck. I would suspect though that they built it.
Before the bridge was built, Frame's Crossing was used - turning off just before the Sawmill, crossing the river, then on to Reid Road and back on to Middle Ridge Road. Middle Ridge Road climbs up the hill past Mrs Thorpe's/Allan Dick's house, into the forest and on up the ridge to Mount Misery Road, which ends up at the Red Hut on Glencoe Run.
Breakneck Road used to start where Middle Ridge starts its climb, and now while the botton half is a good enough road, where it climbs over Diamond Hill it has become an unused track, so Diamond hill or Rodman's Roads are used.

The old HQ site was Rodman's homestead on the corner of Breakneck and Rodman's Road. This old house was built using indigenous timbers and the T&G pannelling of the ceiling was Matai - painted over but! There were large Eucalyptus globulus trees there and a small line of Ngiao. The Store Shed was adzed panels of Rimu and roof trusses were poles of Red Matipo, Myrsine australis the qualities of which are unknown today - the wood is striking because of the medallary rays.

It was decided that a new HQ site was needed, so 40 acres of river flat was purchased off Maggie Cunningham. This was land bounded by Breakneck Road and the Waianakarua River. This was one of the very few rivers in New Zealand where the landowner owned the river bed - to the center of the average water course.
Maggie Cunningham's father had been burnt to death on this flat when he was burning off gorse there! She subdivided sections for Crib ownership - holiday houses - and all the survey pegs were established by NZFS surveyors. Plans were actually drawn up to make a forest villiage there, but that did not happen.
Maggie was an elderly woman and she called into the Dunedin Office because she could not visulise the sections she had sold off. She had had to donate an area for 'recreation' which was a rough gulley to the NE of the property. Maggie was fiesty and District Office turned her on me, to show her the sections. I prepared for her, by locating all the pegs and painting them white. When she arrived, I gave her a cup of tea and a biscuit (well Albert did, but I told him to!) and I simply treated her with respect. She understood the layout completely and she left happy. Dunedin was pleased with the outcome because she mentioned me in the glowing terms elderly women use!

When I arrived, on the forest, there was a new office building, an oil store and four bay garage. Albert was struggling to make a garden, complaining about the lack of water/pressure.
We were to fix that! And create a very popular garden/arboretum and camping ground.

Bert Bennett allowed us to put a large water tank up on the hill opposite, the track was so steep that the transporting truck lost steerage, so Mick had to pull it up with the D6.
That hill was steep; previously it had a crop of pine trees growing on and a person was killed during the harvesting process. But I remember watching Jimmy Blair and Charlie James buldozing it clean - it was spectacular because of the riskiness of it all!

There are some names here that need further discussion, so I will.

Funny how politics creeps in

To the west and south of Diamond Hill are bush gullies which contain quite remarkable examples of remnant Podocarpus forest and I recall noting in my survey book 'merchantable quality Rimu and Miro.' Those were the days when Rimu timber was an important commodity! But this is old indigenous forest with huge Kanuka, Broadleaf, Marble Leaf and all the other mixed Podocarps. Admittedly, the under-scrub was thin because of pigs, deer and possums but it was still beautiful and rare bush.

When Mick was bulldozing the firebreak, the topographical limit he could go to was the actual planting boundary of the compartment.

But according to Geo Wilkinson, the District Forester, it did not look neat on the map! The boundary was not square because a few pockets (gulley bottoms) of bush thrusting up into the proposed pine plantation.

Old George! He was an English forester with a neat trimmed beard, and thinking back, perhaps he was a bit nervey because he shook a bit. I remember one morning smoko (tea) when he became excited about a tale of pig hunting, he absent mindedly ate all of his lunch! Realising the fact only when he folded the brown paper bag that carried it in! Another time he was staying at a boarding house in Oamaru, but had wanted first to catch a pig - he like wild pork. I shot the pig alright, and gave him the job of gutting it and carrying to the truck - well, after all, I was carrying the rifle! His clothes became saturated with with blood and I can still imagine the horror of the boarding house proprietors thinking he had been involved in some massacre or other!

Anyway, George came up with a plan to 'tidy' up the boundary of the Diamond Hill Block. I was to cut a straight line on a designated bearing to act as the permanent boundary. That was one of my skills and I cut an accurate definable boundary to work to. Then everything above this boundary was to be poisoned using a substance called ammate. Notches had to be cut in the trees and the crystals applied with an old spoon. Once the trees were defoliated, the bush was to be underplanted in the more valuable species, Douglas Fir! Never mind the intrinsic value of the indigenous forest!

So I sent Bert and Gib into the forest each armed with an axe to cut the notches and to apply the ammate. After about an hour, I returned there thinking I would stop them because the morality of the exercise was nagging at me. To my surprise, Bert and Gib were sitting down on the roadside looking glum. They stood as I approached.

'We are not too happy doing this job,' Bert told me, 'can you find someone else to do it?'

'Not happy about poisoning the bush eh.' It was my statement and reply.

'What can be done to stop this?' Gib asked.

Both these guys were as loyal to the forest as people could be, and both had served in WWII, so they knew about orders from 'on high'.

'Well I doubt if George will do the job himself.' I replied, thinking for an answer. 'So if it doesn't happen then it doesn't happen. Maybe we should enlist the aid of Alan Dick. He could talk to the minister (of forests). I can't really do anything because of my position here but I'm cobbery with old Alan. If one of you could write him a letter and I could explain things to him on the quiet.'

Bert said he would write the letter. I had a lot of time for Bert - he had courage and a sense of 'right'.

Alan Dick was our local MP and a mate of mine. I had even blasted some rock for him to use as a feature wall for his house, and I helped him establish some trees and shrubs in his garden. Many a time I shared the hospitality of Alan and his wife Betty as we discussed many issues, setting the world to rights.

Oh yes they bought the property from old Mrs Thorpe, a lovely old widow, but the house had an earlier, sinister history, or was that just rumor? Another [old] woman had lived there who was apparently an associate of the infamous Minnie Dean - some believe there are babies buried somewhere there - oooh. Maybe its just an urban myth!

Sometimes around New Year, Betty and Alan would host us forestry boys for drinks and bites. Alan was never backward in sharing his whiskey - it came in half gallon flagons! A few of those sessions produced the odd headache and I recall one 'morning after' when Bert sat in pain with his hat pulled over his eyes to protect then from the glare of the morning sun. Convalescing he was! Alan passed by in his car and tooted. 'Vote catching bastard!' Bert muttered. He didn't really mean it.

Anyway, Bert wrote the letter and I spoke to Alan who wrote a letter to the minister; simply asking,'Why are they poisoning native bush at Herbert Forest?'

So the minister asks the Conservator and the Conservator asks the District Ranger and I guess the District Ranger asked the District Forester, George They got cold feet! The answer came back to Alan, through all the channels of course.

'There is no poisoning of native bush taking place at Herbert Forest!'

District Office was furious! But we locals had made a pact nobody was going to say anything! Simply deny all knowledge of any letter to anyone!

Keith Prior, the District Ranger came to pay us a visit, smoke was still coming out of his ears. But I knew him to be a forester! So I took him up there and asked him to give me time to mark out a walking track, so I returned him to HQ for a cup of tea. I  used strips of survey cloth to mark [flag] out a proposed walking track, a loop, through the best of the indigenous forest area,  past some of the very special trees.

Keith saw the potential of the track and readily agreed to save the bush and allow us to form the track. Bert and Gib were much happier doing that job!

In those days primary schools used Camp Iona as a base and thousands of children passed through the area each year. This track was to become a highlight for them - sometimes I would guide them and give a talk.

On one occasion, I took a group of Catholic girls and a couple of Nuns, and to thank me, one of the Nuns told me they would sing a song for me. Well a rough, tough, insensitive forestry man finds it difficult to face such things! So after the song I thanked them, at the same time watching my feet as I kicked off the imaginary mud from my boots.

'Oh, we are so please you liked it!' smiled the Nun and began conducting again to give me an encore!