Philip James Wilkie

 

I have heard on the grapevine that Phil died from a stroke on Friday. He has requested no funeral, so I will miss the wake.

Experiences during wars alters people and Phil saw action in Egypt and Italy and served time in the J Force. Our conversations revealed the impact of  the experience(s)

He came to me looking for work on the forest, probably because he knew that Clark's flourmill, where he was employed, would not continue for that much longer. 

We had no vacancy, so when I turned him down he asked our local Member of Parliament to change my mind. It was simply a request and although I expected some stick from District Office, I took him on.

He didn't last long, maybe because the wage rate was low, or perhaps as often happens, the work seems physical at the start - until you become fit to it. Anyway he went back to the flourmill for a short time but when it scaled down, he returned requesting reinstatement.

Phil did not shy from work, and he was respected - we found him to be a bit of larrikin [in a good way].

Talk about hard work though, in the early days he was a partner a transport business and he told me about loading his truck manually, with a shovel, in Maggie's pit to deliver gravel on to the main road on the Herbert Hill. The trucks in those days were small compared to today but still, that is hard, physical work!

Phil had a farm on the foothills West of the Herbert township. This is marginal land and unfortunately he experienced the severe drought - seven years of it - during the late 50's and early 60's. He told me that super-phosphate lay on the soil undissolved for years. Impossible farming conditions.

He was in my salvage logging team after the 1975 gales. Salvage logging though windthrow is difficult and dangerous and my team started off untrained and experienced only in thinning trees that were no older than 12 years.

As well, Conservancy Office put the pressure on us by allowing a low cubic metre price for the work.

As the years passed Phil used tell the story about my lucky escape when dropped a tree on me. I was working on a problem tree below him and I heard the tree he had felled,whistling tin my direction! There was a large tree lying across where Phil's tree was falling and I managed to duck under it, and luckily it did not break!

Phil was relieves to see me rise up among the branches with only a broken helmet.

There are many 'forestry stories' involving Phil and they may yet appear on my blog.

When we arrived home after after our stint in Tanzania, Phil brought me a gift - he was making bird-baths out of local stone and cement for a hobby. The one he gave us sits in pride of place in our garden.  

Doug loses his Manuka Firewood!

Arthur Douglas Turner was one of the old forest hands and it if fair to say that he served his time and was one of the workers who could be relied upon.

Mathiesons  owned the run country behind the forest and Doug negotiated with them for the right to cut some of the Manuka scrub the grew on the saddle leading to Government Hill.

Mathiesons were happy for Doug to cut the small trees because it would afford them more grazing. And as far as Doug was concerned it was reasonably easy cutting because it was on very moderate slope and access was good.

Doug cut several cord of wood and left it stacked to dry.

Far below where Doug had cut his firewood, there was a gulley locally known as Tiger's. Unlike some other areas of Mathiesons, Tiger's Gully was tussock land and for fire safety/security reasons we used to regularly burn the area and the regrowth was better fodder for  sheep.

This day we lit the area and  all of us were down in the gully burning off small areas. When we returned, Doug's firewood was well ablaze and too far gone to warrant putting it out.

This was a huge loss to poor old Doug - probably a month's worth of weekend's work! Had have been mine, I would have been properly miffed! Of course Doug was not at all happy, but he did not rant or blame us for his loss. Good on him.

Manuka [Leptospermum] is still a popular firewood, but the tree is really too useful to cut down!

While the common name may be Ti Tree, or Tea Tree, it is not to be confused with the Ti Tree of Australia, which is the Melaleuca species the oil from which is well known and useful.

Manuka is best know for its honey which has attributes that others honey do not have. (it is more tricky to extract though) For example it aids healing when applied to wounds.

Manuka can best be identified by its seed pods which are about 4mm in diameter.                                        

We were taught that Manuka was a 'colonizing' species and while that is true, Manuka can be found in more areas than just forest margins.

Kanuka on the other hand used to be called Leptospermum ericoides, but the name has changed to Kunzea ericoides and in some areas the difference between Kanuka and Manuka is difficult - but the seed pods of Kanuka are much smaller.

Kanuka though can be a forest tree and can grow up to 10m or more. The heartwood is dark and I know of one guy who made salt and pepper shakers from the wood.

Still it is great firewood, but again the tree is too valuable to cut down.

Kanuka is on the left and Manuka on the right.

I know Kanuka honey is available, but generally Manuka and Kanuka honey are mixed to produce Manuka honey and the attributes of both species are similar.

Oil is extracted from Manuka and it is as useful at least as the Australian type.

It does not matter if the honey is Manuka or Kanuka - it is a health food and very nice on your toast. Good clover honey may well have the flavor, but Manuka/Kanuka can't be beaten - worldwide.

Margaret Mary Wilson

The funeral of Margaret Wilson occurred in the St Johns Church, Herbert on this past Thursday.

Margaret rightly belongs in the history of Herbert Forest because she is the daughter of Herbie Welsh, one on the 'originals'. Here she is at the reunion.

When Margaret was just three years old, her mother died in childbirth and so Herb was left to care for her. And I have no doubt times were tough for them.

Margaret married Jim Wilson (Skip), for whom Herbie had asked me to employ on the forest. Jim worked on the forest from their wedding day - well a bit after - until the demise of NZFS.

Like Herbie, Margaret was a worker. Before her marriage, she worked at the Oamaru Railway Refreshment Room - where the express train stopped to feed the passengers. So Margaret was a good cook/baker and caterer.

So for events such as Forestry Balls, forest fires, cricket matches and for Otepopo School, St Johns church, Margaret was always there with baking and making the tea.

Margaret was a keen walker - the broad smile and cherry wave was her greeting.

The Wilson boys were contemporaries of our sons, so we were together at those sort of happenings.

Tragically, Margaret faded away due to an eating disorder.

In her way Margaret brought light to those around her.

Charlie James

Charlie was at the Herbert Forest reunion but since then, unfortunately he has died.

Charlie was a local boy, born and bred in Herbert and because he was roughly the same age as me, and our kids are roughly the same age, we shared company in the social things that went on in the district. 

I guess we can call them 'the old days' because the social structure of the district has changed, especially since the closure of the Otepopo Primary School.

'Back then' the population was mainly stable whereas today it is more itinerant with farms changing hands more regularly and the dairy industry bringing in temporary/casual labour.

The James family was a large and I did not know them all and Charlie followed his father in becoming an agricultural machine operator and when I first knew him the was driving a bulldozer for J R Bishop.

I first saw him clearing the steep hill owned by Bert Bennett, opposite the Forest Headquarters.

Bert had a small TD6 dozer and Jimmy Blair, who worked for Bert was also working clearing the grose on the hill. 

Charlie and Jimmy fooled a bit. Jimmy was able to halt Charlie's D6  - the bigger machine - as it climbed the steep hill! It looked steep and dangerous to me but they were obvious having fun!

Charlie bought his own bulldozer and went out on his own and he was useful to us for forming firebreaks and helping us out from time to time - when I had become stuck either on a dozer or in a vehicle. He helped us fight fires.

When he sold his dozer (there was a downturn in the finances of farmers) Charlie was employed by Bert Bennett to drive the logging truck and as the mill increased capacity, Charlie took on the cartage contract and increased his fleet and included the firewood/sawdust truck.

So we had plenty of contact with Charlie and there was mutual cooperation.

Changes happened, as they do - NZFS became history, Bert Bennett sold up, there was a downturn and I was off to Africa and so was surprised to find Charlie was away from the district.

He ended his life in Ashburton.

We had a lot of history.

Workplace Accidents

Forestry and particularly logging is a dangerous industry and NZ union chiefs are asking for an inquiry after three deaths so far this year.

Safety and protective clothing was not cool when I was a young forest ranger trainee, and I recall sniggering at American cowboy movies when they wore gloves when handling barbed wire - 'bloody softies'!

There was a safety organisation, The Green Cross,  and we were required to attend coursed and receive certificates for a number of years. One of the films sticks still in my memory. A bulldozer was left with its hydraulics up. Children came to play on the machine and as one of the children crawled under the blade, another on the seat bumped the lever. There was an image of child's hands losing life.

For some reason the organisation faded away and the green cross has been used for other things from environmental, cannabis to child adoption.

Gradually it came about that safety equipment was introduced and became mandatory, and a  consciousness of safety was introduced. So standards now are very good - pressure from government organisations such as Occupational health and Safety & Accident Compensation Commission has helped ensure this as both organisations have teeth.

If we go back to the New Zealand Forest Service, there was an branch (excuse the pun) set up called 'Work Study'. The focus was not so much on safety, but quantify the work process and formulating efficient methods.

This was very good work and the main idea was to be able to set work targets to allow the payment of bonus payment for greater work output - but not at expense of safety.

Actual work content was measured (while working safely), allowance was made for slope, undergrowth, rest and toilet.

The bonus rate was an amount above the hourly rate depending of the percentage of target achieved. There was a disincentive in the rate paid for anything over 110% and if 120% was achieved, the there was an error in target setting or the workers were cutting corners that would need investigation because likely, safety was being compromised.

Work study was also used to set contract rates.

The process was to set the rate, and then call for tenders from contractors. The contractor chosen would be the nearest to the calculated contract price.  Low prices would mean the contractor would cut those corners - or employ less experienced workers - or they would go broke and broke contractors are no use to anybody. High prices meant the contractors were or were intending to ripping the forest off!

With the demise of the NZFS, so has the branch, of Work Study.

I have no idea of how prices are worked out these days but I have seen several workplaces that operate on contract but have nothing to base the cost on.

'Oh last time it was $40 per tonne - this block looks a bit easier so but fuel is more costly, so we will make it $43 per tonne.' There is no real quantifying going on.

I'm not suggesting this is the reason there are more accidents, but perhaps a contributor.

If it looks like a crew are going to lose money, they may need to work faster, of .for more hours.

The investment is greater and per day financial output is huge, and has to be recovered. The forest owners though have no have to work within an environment of fluctuating log prices.

Sometimes it is nigh on impossible to predict a rope breakage or when a log will roll down a hill. Bottom line is that forestry work is dangerous and workers need to be vigilant, contractors need to be paid adequately and log prices to be stable. As far as better workplace conditions are concerned: forests are a natural environment on a wide variety of terrains - not much can be done about that.

ANZAC Day

April 25 is ANZAC day when servicemen & women are remembered.

All starting 1915 from the disaster at Gallipoli where so many were lost in an attempt to make landfall on Turkey during WWI.

During the intervening years, ANZAC Day commemorates, remembers and honours the fallen, the wounded, the returned of all conflicts that New Zealand has been involved in. The day also recalls the involvement of the whole country and the sacrifices made during those conflicts.

I was born late in 1943 and it is glib to say, 'at the tail end of the war' because there was a lot of death and destruction before it was all over.
In my early years, I have no memory of the war or the shortages it create in family life. I do remember sharing some dried fruit with a mate, being found out and receiving a swat from my mother!  She was probably saving the fruit for a special cake, and no doubt she had difficulty in replacing it - maybe she couldn't.
I recall talk of 'coupons' for food and other goods that were short - sugar. And especially my father referring to England as 'the old country' or simply 'home' even though he was never there.

At the age of eight, I joined Cubs and progressed through to Scouts. Lord Baden Powell based the organization on the military and we saluted the Union Jack as well as the New Zealand flag.
Prior to ANZAC day we would go door-knocking throughout the district with poppies to sell. It was almost an offense to return with unsold poppies!
Of course we would parade for the dawn service on ANZAC Day with the two flags. Always it seemed to be a frosty morning!
In those early days radio seemed to play sombre music but later interviewed veterans in the homes and hospital where they waited for God.

I found the military style of Scouts to be a joy, but at secondary school - Straven Academy  for Young Gentlemen : ok, Christchurch Boy's High School -  I found Cadets to somewhat more harsh! We dressed in 'sandpaper suits' and at the height of summer for a week, we learned parade drill and rifle drills.
We did not understand the wider implication of this - post war, the nation's youth needed to be prepared for another conflict and who could predict where the Korean War was headed?
So there was wisdom in the training we were given. And it did us more good than harm!

Then on to the New Zealand Forest Service in 1962, and thinking back, a lot of the equipment was ex-army (or military) even myself, I would go to ex-army stores to buy my clothes!
I have retained a military compass and abney level - in leather bound cases - and a survey chain. Also a pair on non-focusing binoculars with the government broad arrow on them - the arrow is dulled white maybe ivory.

We used ex-army .303 rifles for 'deer culling' and I have seen what those ex-army bullets do to meat and bone! This to me is the real horror of war! But it was not only bullets there were bayonets, grenades, mines, artillery and bombs!
I felt empathy when I shot a deer! How would I react to my mates being shot or blown up?

I have always maintained that politics is a dirty business, and politically, to get people to fight, you have to dispense propaganda, but once in the line, seeing your mates being shot/blown up brings out a hatred that propaganda cannot hope to engender, of course at the end of conflict it takes a long time for those emotions to fade away.

We had a good diet of war movies that, in a way were propaganda to encourage nationalism and I guess we remembered the actors more than the heroes - Kenneth Moore, Alan Ladd.
Home from the movie, we acted them out as kids do.

But with age, and sitting on a tractor, or planting a tree, the mind works and I wonder of the pain and suffering through countless wars over the years. How and why various leaders brought their populations to the brink of war. And certainly some of them needed to be halted.

The two main combatants that New Zealand has confronted are Germany and Japan. Both nations are small dots on the globe, yet they thought they could defeat the rest.
And it goes on - and it seems, sanity does not prevail.

But ANZAC's? We will remember them!

Adventures with cattle 6

With the advent of artificial insemination, new breeds were introduced to the area and Albert was keen to try the Charolais breed. He decided to keep the resulting bull calf and later encouraged me to use the bull over my cows.  

There was a problem though because the breed is big and so calving was a problem and very often the vet had to be called. Luckily I had heard about this problem so limited the feed of the cows during the last month of pregnancy when the embryo/calf grows most.

Anyway I had few calving problems and one of my bull calves threw close to the Charolais breed, so much so that I kept him and a few around the area brought their cows to be serviced.

Charolais breeders will say that the breed is very quiet and I would agree with that.

One day I noticed that the bull had a weeping eye, so I decided to yard him to see what the matter was.

I had yarded him before of course but with other animals, and I had never put him in the rough old crush that I had made because he was too big for it. Even the TB tester (the bovine manitu test) just did the test with him standing in the yard.

This time he was not keen to go into the yard so I enlisted the help of my wife, who happened to be seven months pregnant. Well the bull made a run for it, and in her direction! She had to take evasive action so I quickly abandoned that method of mustering and instead brought a few cows up to keep him company. This worked well but the bull knew very well that I intended to focus on him.

The yard gate was two meters high and made from 150 x 35mm macrocarpa timber, he just put his neck over it and the gate shattered like matchwood - such was the strength of this animal.

So I quickly patched the gate up using some iron pipe I had salvaged out of an old cattle stop and went through the process again.

Among the cows and trying to look at the bull's eye, I was not very safe, so decided to chance the crush!

With some coaxing he went in and broke to wooden bail that held the neck/head in place. But I managed a look at his eye and saw he had a barley grass seed in it.

Barley grass seeds are nasty because they are barbed and work their way in to skin, (or eyes) the more movement, the deeper it went.

There was no way I was going to remove the seed from the bull, so I called the vet, who was busy and he told me to try to remove it myself!

I found some rope and disabled the bull's head as securely as I could and actually he was more calm that I would have expected. But I could not get it out!

I rang the vet back and he said it would be the next day before he could be there. He advised me to try again.

Finally I was successful, I had water there and folded the lower eyelid down and grasped the seed - I felt it scratch a bit and I washed his eye out as best I could. 

The bull was patient as I undid the rope,  but I had to cut him out of the head bail with a chainsaw - that agitated him a bit!

Talking about feeling the barley grass scratch his eyeball, there was a new regulation from the freezing works that all cattle should be de-horned.

I called the vet to de-horn the season's calves and to bring out an implement that I could purchase. This was a a gadget that had two blades and you opened the handles to clip out the horn bud.

The vet instructed me to hold the calf by the neck and hold his head still by grasping the skin between its nostrils. Then the vet used the implement! I felt the grinding cut through the calf's nose! It revolted me!

We did the six calves and I purchased the implement, only because he had brought with him especially - but I never used the impliment and never de-horned any more of my calves - the freezing works took them just the same!

Adventures with cattle 5

The main trunk railway line passed through our property (as did Breakneck Road) so I had to exercise care when driving my cattle from one side to the other.

The goods trains were unpredictable but the passenger steamer express went South at around 1:05pm and North 3:15pm. (actually my father in law was a guard on the goods trains). Most usually I would phone the signal box and they would tell me where the trains were.

One Sunday afternoon I needed to drive the cattle across the line to the South side of the farm.

I had a dog that I was training and there were six cows and four yearlings to take across.

It was 12:30pm so I knew there would be no goods trains and there was at least thirty minutes before the steamer express. It only took a few minutes to cross the line.

All went well except the last two yearlings which the dog split from the her and they ran off down the paddock. I looked at the rest and they seemed to be heading for the south paddock, so I took the dog to muster the two yearlings.

The yearling were flighty and ran backwards and forwards but time was ticking and I looked up at the sound of the steamer express rounding the bend at 70mph! And the cows were grazing on the line! They hadn't crossed after-all but were grazing on the railway reserve.

After the smoke cleared away, there were two dead cows on the railway line and one wounded heifer in the south paddock.

We always had plans how we were going to spend any funds raised through out cattle and this represented a big loss!

The heifer had lost skin and was severely bruised and it seemed she would survive - I had no way or concept of reliving her pain, which would have been intense.

I made a sledge out of an old door and some fencepost and using pulleys and rope, I sledged the dead cows to a tree and hoisted them up to butcher them. I rang a butcher in town and he told me he could buy farm-killed meat.

I cut up the beasts as best I could and loaded them into my old Commer Cob. Phew the smell in there was not all that pleasant!

The butcher refused to take the meat because some had been bruised and it had not been bled properly! This makes the meat toxic!

So I ended up giving the meat to the Rabbit Board for dog tucker.

The skins realised $2.00 each - green and because the skinning was not as neat as they buy from the freezing works!

A financial loss and lesson, albeit an expensive lesson.

I will never forget the look of the driver of the train on his return trip at 3:15. I was loading a cow onto the makeshift sledge and he poked his head out the cab, shook is head as if to say, 'Silly bugger!'

Adventures with cattle 4

Allan Dick's place was not really set up for grazing animals, and he knew because he had been the leaseholder of Lilybank Station. But he wanted the grass chewed down so he bought two weaned heifer calves - they were both Hereford cross, one black with a white face and the other, a proper Hereford - red with a white face.

After they had grazed down the best grass, they escaped into the forest and grazed on the roadside. Allan tried to muster them and he enlisted my help as well. Particularly the red one was skittery and always ran off.

We expected some hunter would shoot them, but that did not happen and Allan suggested that perhaps we should target them.

In the end Allan said if I could catch them, I could have them and being a young married man in need of funds, I thought it was worth a try.

I used some cunning though. I drove my old, quiet cows up into the forest and very quickly the two renegade heifers joined them, so it was merely a matter of returning them all to my paddock, which was not a problem.

The black one settled down very quickly and was indeed - quiet. The red one was mad as a snake and if I walked into the paddock she would run off as far as she could.

'Oh she will settle down when she has calved!' I was advised, so with the others, I put her to the bull.

I noticed her as she began to calve and unfortunately her calf's hips became stuck. I walked down to try and help her but she ran to the top of the hill with her calf flapping behind her. I could not just leaver and approached again. She jumped the fence and now was alone - separated from the comfort of the other cows.

I walked towards her again slowly and she jumped another fence - all this was in Perter Anderson's property! The calf was still flapping behind her as she ran. So I took the long way and headed her off, just standing there and she bounced back over those two fences and when she saw me again she tried to clear the fence that was into the railway reserve. Her energy levels were down and her leg became caught in the fence and I saw her go down. 

Before I went down to her, I found a rope so was able to tie another leg to a fencepost. The calf was dead and I could not remove it.

I ran the vet who was busy but he advised me 'If the calf is dead, you can remove it surgically'. That meant, I had to cut the calf up to remove it!

The details are gory, and I wouldn't like to repeat it! However I removed the calf, bit by bit and I tried to clean the cow as best I could. 

I cut her from the fence and untied her and walked away. She stood up and joined the rest of the herd.

That cow was always mad and I took the first opportunity to send her to the freezing works, but not on her own, with others that were due to go.

Adventures with cattle 3

Albert used to hand milk his cow, take off enough milk for household use and then add water to the remainder for the rearing of extra calves.

I bought older cows - preferably ones that had been house cows and I found that that they could rear four calves at once. Sometimes by rotation, she could rear more.

It was reasonably easy - just yard the cow and her calf and introduce the new one (bought in from a dairy farmer) and make sure the new calf has at least three feeds a day. Within three days the cow accepts the new calf and all is ok.

It became a little more difficult when I used heifers that I decided were good to breed from. While they were quiet, they had not been milked so were more work.

My mate Lindsay, who did much the same on his farm, told me of the success he had with chaining the introduced calf to the cow/heifer's calf. I had noticed he did that.

Lindsay loaned me the chain and collars for a young black and white heifer - now cow - and her new calf.

I 'coupled' the new calf to one that I had bought in and stood back to watch them have a drink.

Well the young cow went mad! She attacked the new calf and because it was chained to her own, that calf too was being trampled and butted!

Well I had to do something and realized that it was dangerous to be between the calves and the cow! There was a grubber/mattock nearby so I grabbed it and hit the cow with it  across her hind quarters - she took no notice.
There was a stick of timber - macrocarpa 2"x2" - and I hit the cow with it between her horns.
She fell to her knees and rolled over on her back, legs in the air and her eyelashes flickering like a giraffe on heat!
While she was out to it, I undid the calves.

I put the other calf onto another cow - without the chain, and I never used it again.

But you know, within a week, that bought in calf was stealing a feed from that cow, and I added calves to her as time went on - she must have settled down.

Adventures with cattle 2

I used to leave the bull calves entire because they seemed to grow quicker and the price for bull meat was higher.

I noticed that one particular bull was becoming a bit angry, and I found out later that some young lads had fired slug gun pellets at it.

The first time the bull attacked me was when I was opening the gate to drive my ute into the paddock to spray gorse. The bull came running up and as I sat in the truck to drive into the paddock, he rattled the radiator grill with his horns and pushed. This did not phase me too much and I began spraying the gorse.

Above the noise of the pump. I heard a bellow and the thunder of hooves causing me to turn to see the bull a few metres away 'on the charge'! My only option was to turn the hose onto the bull - full into his face. This caused him to stop to reassess the situation giving me the time to sprint the thirty metres to the electric fence and bounded over it - actually I did bounder over it.

The pump pumped on and when the bull was a good distance away I retrieved the ute and its load.

Of course I could not put up with a looney bull on the place - you never know who would walk through the property!

But I was a bit afraid of him so yarding and loading him onto the stock truck was, I thought, a little dangerous.

I made a run with electric fence each side, to drive him into the yard and I conscripted Colin with his rifle and beady eye to be ready to shoot the animal if he made a step towards me - just one step!

The electric fence must have made the bull nervous (and he was with other cattle) because he gave me no trouble at all and he was trucked away to the freezing works.

I was happy that he left the property.

Adventures with cattle 1

When I first bought our property on the Herbert Hill, there was a lot of grass and it was a surprise to the local that I decided to run cattle. The reason for their surprise was that we were on the back of a five year drought and they were apprehensive to believe that the drought was actually over.

I recall Phil (Snow) Wilkie telling me that super phosphate that he applied on his hill country had not dissolved  during those five years.

Sometime I will post pictures taken in 1916 that show that the farmland on the lower Kakanui Range was very hungry and farming was indeed a struggle.

The climate has changed because those severe droughts no longer seem to happen and I believe it is because of increased precipitation due to the forest - some may argue about that - and they are welcome. 

This is Albert Stringer who was the Forest Clerk who I have already wrote a little about - he is now 80 years old and still tends the gardens of several elderly ladies.

I often talked over things with Albert, and he was a constant help to me. I mention him now because he was interested in cattle, and milked a cow called Polly.

I bought a bobby calf [day old] from Tubby Stewartson, an early dairy farmer from Kakanui. Albert had offered to rear it for me as he had a surplus of milk from Polly. The calf grew steadily due to Polly's rich milk and Albert's care.

The calf was strong and healthy and it was time to release it in my paddock. I had the exuberance (foolhardiness) of youth and told Albert that it was a simple matter of tying the calf's feet (hog tying) and lifting it into my Commer Cob.

Hand reared calves are quiet and this one was no different, but it did object to me trying to drop it onto the ground so I could tie its legs. It took off down the hill! It had a rope around it's neck which I hung on to and tried to stop its' progress.
I lost my balance and the calf dragged me down the hill through thistles,  through cow pats and over stones!
Determined, I held on and eventually I managed to halt the animal and turn it over so I could tie its' legs.
Albert had the rope and he was up the hill laughing his head off, so I had to hold the writhing animal until he settled down and brought the rope.

I made a very secure job of tying the legs and the calf could not move [save for its' head].
Albert took one side of the animal and I the other - on my command we lifted! It was too heavy we could not even clear it off the ground! Albert laughed again!

We had to let the calf go and I had to borrow a stock trailer to move the calf as Albert had suggested in the first place! It all went smoothly.

Differences in Pholosophy when it comes to Conservation

This is the Waianakarua River in flood - taken from Frame's Crossing just below my property

near the center of the picture is the iconic Lombardy Poplar.

Along with my forestry colleagues I have been responsible of converting poor, gorse infested land into productive forestry. Along the way we have protected indigenous flora and fauna and we have opened areas up to the public, so they can experience the uniqueness of the Lower Kakanui Range.

The use of pine trees to control gorse is a well established practice, as gorse does not thrive when daylight has been excluded. Indeed on my own property I have successfully controlled gorse by planting Poplar androscoggin.  

We have had our share of critics over the years:

Monoculture causing an exodus of indigenous wildlife. Ha! I see more native birds in an hour than I saw in a day's trip to Mount Cook and walking up to the Hooker Glacier Lake.

Our bulldozer formed a firebreak on a boundary on the property purchased from Kemp. Lands and Survey demanded that we plant the firebreak with native plants, as some Manuka were pushed out. Well we needed the firebreak but anyone with a smidgen of intelligence would know that establishing native plants on what was almost bedrock, was nigh on impossible. The plantings were a waste of time and resources. We have protected far larger areas of native bush than a  few metres of blade-width bedrock!

The Kemp block was adjacent to the Trotters Gorge Scenic Reserve and there was solid gorse on the common boundary. So the gorse was cleared to the fenceline during land preparation and to suppress the gorse, we planted trees right to the boundary. Well Lands and Survey demanded that we remove the trees 20 metres back as was the legal requirement. So we pulled the trees out and the jungle of gorse returned to the boundary - creating a fire hazard.

Submissions responded to after our invitation

Another submission was that the top of South Peak was to be left unplanted  - so people could climb up and look out. One of the lads planted his initials up there and the trees [now over 25 years old] can still be seen. Nobody ever climbed up there.

 

This picture taken 1916 shows the lower end of Mount Misery Road and up into the hills. The area is either barren or gorse-covered showing the aggressiveness of the gorse which has escaped from hedges. So clothing the area in forest has been successful.

In the foreground is the North Branch of the Waianakarua River - just downstream from my property.

When I purchased the property in 1967, the river looked beautiful with Crack Willow growing each side of the river. Catchment Board & later, the Regional Council did/do not like Crack Willow, so they were sprayed over the years and the old adage - remove one weed and you get another - so Old man's Beard, Buddleia davidii, broom and blackberry crept in.

Because the forest controls runoff, there are not the real flushes when the river floods, unless logging causes a clear catchment area.

I asked a contractor to remove a Pussy Willow that had been washed and jammed in the center of the river bed - but he told me he would be fined by the Regional Council.

Well a few weeks ago, a helicopter flew down the river spraying the gravel areas and killing grasses and other weeds - the Pussy Willow seems still to be healthy.

Last year a helicopter with an elephant thingi spot sprayed Old Man's Beard but the weed was already in winter dormancy so the effectiveness was below par.

Another guy up the river installed gabion baskets to protect his property from erosion, but the Regional Council forced him to remove them.

In the early 1980's there was a big flood and slipping on the main road. The [now extinct] Ministry of Works dumped truckloads of clay in the middle of the flooded river - expecting it to be washed to sea. Not so, the gravels need to roll in the river bed and so the flood took away the south bank with a crop of turnips!

So a lot has happened to the Waianakarua River and I was happy to provide some advice and participate in the planting project at the mouth of the river and under the auspices of the Herbert Heritage Group.

Donning my other hat - that of a nurseryman - one of the great challenges was supplying tree and shrub species to people requiring shelter in coastal areas. The options are very limited.

To customers, the most important thing is good plant survival and performance.

The other great challenge was this ting called 'Eco-sourcing'  - that is plants to be planted in an area are to be progeny of plants already there. Easy to say and difficult to do [for reasons that don't need to be spelled out here]. But there are times when perhaps it is appropriate and others that just cause an extra cost for no gain.

The area at the Waianakarua River mouth is gorse infested [not vigourous on account of the coastal conditions] and broom [which was quite healthy].

Blakely Pacific Limited sponsored some of the trees or shrubs and Oregon Nurseries supplied and donated some as well. I encourage the participants to grow on plants that appeared in their gardens.

The idea was to grow as many endemic species as possible and perching or bird-feeding species to attract birds and their payload of other species. Basic shelter to start the project off.

The most successful has been Chatham Island Ake Ake, Olearia traversii.

Wayne called me the other day, a representative of Forest and Bird, who may well take over the plantings at the river mouth.

He has a strict philosophy that the Waianakarua River mouth is a special area [we all knew that] and only Eco-sourced plants should be planted there.

Wayne told me that he had spent twenty days removing wildling pines in North Otago. My philosophy is that wildling could be an opportunity - though not Pinus contorta.

Further, he enjoyed destroying plants that were growing where he thought they should not be, and high on his list are Chatham Island Ake Ake, Olearia paniculata (H H Allan records the natural range to be North of Oamaru - 25 km to the North) and any other exotic species. He did not mention gorse, Buddleia  or broom.

Actually the weeds have proliferated with land change - Browns farmed sheep to the river edge and the present dairy farmers have fenced off the area which is now ungrazed.

So the Waianakarua River mouth might well be under the care of Forest and Bird and a different philosophy, but I wonder if this would happen if that original meeting of the Herbert Heritage Group had not been called.

By the way, who was that guy Kerr?

Skippy - The Truck Driver

There were two Skippys, well one Skippy and the other Skip, but that was derived from Skippy.

I suppose that makes sense - maybe to those in the know, but here's an explanation: Skip, or Jim Wilson was one of our forest workers, and he was called Skip/Skippy because of his bouncy walk - like a kangaroo.

On the other hand, Skippy the truck driver was an Australian but still, and like Jim, was called after the television character, Skippy the Bush Kangaroo. We on the forest played no part in giving the nickname to this guy.

Jim can take a back seat, for now, this is about Alan.

Skippy drove the truck that carried the first peeled post out of Herbert Forest. This happened in 1966 and Skippy was a driver for McCullum & Co who had purchased the posts and had set up Tantalizing plant.

The ruck was not large, probably a Bedford A4 if I remember correctly and Skippy loaded the posts by hand - and let me say that this was no light job.

After a time, I told Skippy about the Hiab grapple cranes that I had seen  in my travels and that perhaps he should try to get his company to install one for him.
In my experience truck drivers are well up with the play on gear, gossip and what's going on 'over the fence', so he probably knew what I was talking about anyway.

One day Skippy turned up with Hiab on his truck, but he was not confident in using the grapple - and probably not with me looking on! He sat the closed grapple on the ground and filled it by hand, them lifted the load of post onto the deck to release them. Even so this made his job easier and quicker.
No doubt Skippy practiced and soon he did not have to handle the posts at all - and he became very skilled.

As happens McCullum & Co were bought out by Fletchers and around the same time a transport company was created out of buying/amalgamating many of the North Otago transport agencies. This company became known as Waitaki Transport Holdings Ltd. And we referred to it as The Holdings.
I think back now, and if we needed six trucks to cart gravel, they had them!
Skippy was provided with a flash Volvo truck and Hiab and he carried on working for The Holdings and carting our posts.

The Hiab was very handy as well and we needed to cart a large water tank to the hilltop opposite the HQ site. The track up there was way too steep for Skippy's truck and he lost steerage, so we had to bring down the D6 dozer and pull him up (holding is nose down).
We set up several firefighting tanks in the forest and none were easy to land on site, so Skippy was nudged here and there with the dozer again.

I purchased a Lockwood house, and Skippy landed that on site for me as well - and he lifted a concrete slab I had prefabricated to the top of the tank-stand I built. The thing slipped and was nearly a disaster but Skippy's skill made it right.He also brought my concrete tank out from town a sat it nicely on top of the slab.
From my farm on the Herbert Hill, I sold some posts from production thinning and Skippy became stuck. I had a T6 crawler tractor and thought I could shift him with it. Well I couldn't, I just dug myself into a hole but Skippy used my tractor as an anchor and stretched the Hiab out onto a chain and used the small ram to pull himself out.

When we commenced logging, Skippy carted the logs and on slipped out of the grapple, smashing his leg!

Circumstances changed after this due to the demise of the NZFS and Skippy no longer drove the Hiab truck and on my way to the nursery - nearly every day - I waved to him as he drove the white bulk lime truck, Taylor's Lime.

Go Alan Waugh.

Buddleia davidii

Buddleia davidii or Butterfly Bush has been planted in many garden, sort of as a first, shelter plant. Indeed at the nursery we propagated it from cuttings as a low shelter plant for farms.

However, the species has escaped and is becoming a problem.

The Waianakarua River has been invaded by the species and it competes with, even beating, gorse!

I see it on the roadsides now and it springs up in my garden and on my drive. Quite quickly too. Daily I walk down my drive and there is always a 100mm plant there to pull out, that wasn't there the day before!

The foliage is grey/green and I note that the roadside spraying contractor does not have much success in controlling the plant. I have no idea what chemical he uses, but that chemical is powerful enough to kill Silver Birch, Broom, Dock and Nodding Thistle. But the Buddleia will die off and regrow.

I use Glyphosate at high rates and add Pulse or dishwashing liquid (who said that? But it is just as good) and I can kill 2m plants.

I am not sure how the seed spreads, it does not seem to fly (in the wind) and I would have expected the seed to be digested in the gut of birds, but obviously not as I suspect they are indeed the carrier.

And the species is being transported around the district in gravel that is quarried on the river bed.

The problem will grow.

Curious Behavior Of Starlings

Starlings, though an introduced bird in New Zealand, are very common and especially so in the rural landscape.

We have two types of grass grub and they tend to be the main diet of Starlings, although they certainly eat earthworms, insects and some fruits.

Farmers encourage Starlings on their properties by providing nest boxes but the nest in buildings and the mess they make is considerable - not to mention the smell!

One pair regularly nested under the cowling of my tractor - on top of the radiator - well the same pair? No because one was chopped in half one time with the fan blade! But when there were chicks, the parents would follow the tractor around and when chance permitted, they would feed their young - each year the chicks fledged.

As I watched on the lawn in front of our house, I saw Starlings doing this sort of thing. Now you may think this was just normal preening - but no. Individually each would go to the same spot pick something from the grass and 'put' it under it's wing! Like applying deodorant! They 'preened' in no other part of their body and always they picked something up.

So I went out to take a look and there was an ant nest. Just the little black ants in a not very strong nest that are not necessarily common.

I can imagine the birds eating the ants, and I can imagine the ants climbing on to their attacker and biting, but only under the wing? Maybe, maybe not.

Just a curious thing

W.P. McKerrow

Bill McKerrow died recently and will be sorely missed as community minded and busy member of the district.

He is remembered here because his farm bounded Fraser's (South) Block of the forest.

I remember Bill first at the Waianakarua Garage (rolling a smoke) where, like many of the local farmers he came on rainy days to have repairs made that they were too busy to have done on fine days. And there was always the opportunity for a chat.

For the first two or three years after NZFS purchased the property, access was a problem and we would have struggled without the cooperation of Bill and Dr. Douglas. It was real cooperation because the track through Bills paddock cause a loss for feed for him (we used existing tracks through the Doctor's property).

Of course the change of land ownership to NZFS caused changes/constraints.

There was a spring that had been tapped to supply water to the McKerrow household as well as to several properties down across the main road in the Waianakarua settlement. Bill took on the voluntary role of caretaker of the water supply and found the blockages and breakages - sometime I helped him.

Of course as the trees grew, the spring was destined to dry up so for the long term they, not us, had to find an alternative supply. 

We were very careful in land preparation not to apply gorse control chemicals anywhere near that spring.

The boundary was a sea of gorse and Bill told me that he realised there would be constraints on him to burn his side once we had established trees there and he asked me what he should do.

I suggested that he plant trees the same as we were doing making it a common boundary (although we did establish a fence there.

He did so and as far as I know made a healthy profit.

In fact, Bill is remembered in Tanzania as I used this story (embellishing it of course to suit) as inspiration to primary schools. The story went like this:

Bill McKerrow my friend and neighbor of the forest I worked as no longer allowed to burn his rough vegetation next to our trees. I suggested that he too should plant trees and maybe one day he would be rich! The trees grew well and he cared for them and stopped predators from eating them.

Twenty five year later, Bwana McKerrow harvested his trees and made a good profit.

One day he came to tell me how pleased he was, and as a gift he brought me a big red bull! His horns were as wide as my truck and the animal was big [I stepped out four paces], and tall [I gestured with my hand, about shoulder height}. So you see my students, there is profit in planting trees!

Bill was born and bred in the district, schooled as well and became a Justice of the Peace, a District Councillor and was honored by the Queen.

There is lots more to add - he was a piper, a long time tennis player - in one family three generation have played against/with him - there is a list.

Ranking his achievements is not the object of the blog, his historical importance to the forest and myself is.
One thing though, the Herbert/Waianakarua water scheme was in trouble with it's water right/allocation meaning the could be no additions. Bill gave up his irrigation water right which meant that the district could prow and prosper.

I have no doubt that Bill still shares his humor.

Ken Matches

This blog is fast becoming an obituary column!

Ken Matches (89) recently died and while he had nothing to do with forestry, he is the last of his line and has historic relationship with Breakneck Road and out little valley with the gates that named their property as 'Goblin Woods'.

I rented 'sleepout' huts on the terrace below the Matches house and I have already written a little about old Bill Matches, Ken's father. But I mainly knew Mrs. Matches (nobody used her christian name) who by then was a bent old lady with er grey hair tied in a bun. Mrs. Matches was one of those good matriarchs - wise and warm.

We helped each other from time to time and also looked out for each other.

Richard was the younger son who suffered from polio leaving him with a stiffened neck. Richard was married in Australia but Mrs. Matches was unable/unwell to travel there. So a tape recording of the event was made and posted to her. She asked me to sit with her to listen and she had prepared a small party for us. She shed some tears privately in the next room, but came out refreshed to enjoy the food she had prepared.

Richard died perhaps four years ago.

Neither Richard or Ken had children so indeed it is the end of the line.

The Goblin Woods property was much larger than these days. There was the house area and then the area where 'my' huts were; then the large raspberry patch - where Ken built his holiday house - then an area of garden, where I grew spuds; then the area of Radiata Pine that extended to what is now Clark's crib.
These trees were damaged in the 1975 gales and after the cleanup, I erected the post and wire fence.
The area was divided up eventually - first for Essemburg's house, then Polson's crib, and finally for Collett's house.

Ken's holiday house was built by Dave Armour and we assisted to lift the framing into place - made from Thuja plicata (western red cedar) and quite heavy - probably still a bit green.
Ken and his second wife used to stay on occasion and we spoke from time to time.
Ken lived and worked in Christchurch and I did not really know much about him

The death of the last Matches of Breakneck road sees the end of an era.

Tap - Graham Fradelle Tapper

It is with sorrow that I report on 3 January 2013 we lost our good mate Tap to an aortic aneurism.

 He would be pleased that I posted this picture of him.

Twenty nine young men assembled (together with some others who were to head off to university) as Forest Ranger Trainees in February 1962, almost 51 years ago. This was for an induction course of some six weeks, where many of us bonded to some extent, and then we were divided into groups of 'our own conservancies'.

Conservancies were roughly geographical areas based on provinces as a managerial tool for the New Zealand Forest Service.

My home conservancy was Canterbury and there were five Canterbury boys: Graham Tapper, Les Seaward; Tony Russell, Colin Goodrich and Gordon Baker.

This meant that the six of us worked together for our year of practical training. We spent time at the forests of Kakahu, Raincliff, Ashley, Hanmer and Omihi as well as some logging at a private farm at Waimate. Only at Ashley and Hanmer were there cookhouses/forest camps, the other places we were batching in old and rundown farm houses and did our own cooking.
There are many stories of those days, but maybe not for here, but as I had a vehicle, we all travelled together.Graham, to show his appreciation insisted that I was to be his first passenger when he gained his [proposed] glider pilot ticket. Of course it never happened because of his accident, but I could imagine that flying with Tap would be at the least - exhilarating!

Following that first year, we studied (mainly) indigenous forestry (protection, production and management) at the Reefton Ranger School including the wild animal (then called noxious animal) control at Dip Flat.

 Tap is the forth face from the left of the standing guys.

 Our third year was spent at the Forestry Training Center at Rotorua where we studied all aspects of exotic forestry  from roading through establishment to harvesting.

For some of us the friendships forged in the first year stuck, and other friendships were forged in the following two years through closes association and like-minded philosophies.

We have biennial get-togethers  at various places and very good contact with all of us is through the efforts of Ross Lockyer.

After the Rotorua year, we went our separate ways into branches of forestry that took our fancy at the time. The completion of the fourth year would give us out Forest Ranger ticket - qualification.

Myself, I opted for general forestry and was posted to Naesby Forest. Tap opted for logging and was posted to Kaiangaroa Forest. 

During that first year Tap was injured in a freak logging accident that left him without the use of his legs and he remained in a wheelchair for some 47 years. We were told that he was the oldest living paraplegic in New Zealand.

Tap was always a practical, good humored guy with a can-do attitude which helped him in his rehabilitation and establishing himself in a new and unexpected life. He retained his love for the outdoors.

Importantly he married Annabel and was a very proud father of two and a granddad to four.

His work at the Burwood Hospital Spinal Unit is where his inspirational character really came out! Not only did he mentor people who were patients at the unit but he inspired them by example that being wheelchair bound was a new direction, challenge and full life.

If Tap wanted to do something he would find a way - maybe a long way, but a way.

For his work in the Spinal Unit he received a New Zealand Order of Merit but even so we forestry lads believe him to be a hero, an unsung hero!

Tap stayed with us when he came with Barry and me to attend Jack Palmer's funeral [that's Jack standing on Tap's right in the photo]. His disability only manifested itself because we have steps at our house and not a ramp, therefore I had to help him up - otherwise he was so organized, her was just a mate visiting.

Unfortunately he followed me to Dunedin in his car as we intended to go in different direction, and as he lost sight of me for a few moments, he sped up to catch me. The cop followed him into the supermarket carpark and despite my attempt a diplomacy, he recieved a $100 speeding ticket!

Tap and Annabel set up a caravan and they parked in our yard on their first [and as it turned out, last] expedition. I was able to make a few minor adjustments for his ramp, but they had it very well set up very well.

Appropriately, Tap's funeral was large and there was much to say, but Colin Goodrich's final words were, 'It may be an oft used cliche, but Tap did indeed leave the world better than how he found it.'

Some pictures.

  The young Graham Tapper.

 

Tap in the center, with John Reid and Rob Woodney rest at the corner waiting for transport.

Our training made us fit and taught us good techniques of bushcraft and living healthily in what these days may be termed as primitive conditions.

 Hard, physical work. Planting trees on a shingle scree at Craigeburn. This was done to prevent erosion [and probably introduced species that that are hard to get rid of today].

Tap sitting there in the green shirt, not looking at the camera.

Grouped again waiting for transport.





Fly Tap!