Frosty

Frosty was one of my forest workers, and he came as a government transfer from New Zealand Railways. This was entirely reasonable because the Otepopo Railway Station had closed down - actually before my time. There was a good set of stock yards, because livestock cartage had been a big part of the Railways' business.

I once used the yards to load some of my own cattle - this meant a long drive and a river ford, but it was a good way to load my cattle - onto a Hampden Transport truck.

There was a large goods-shed and a shunting bay. So it was a thriving station - and trains stopped for passenger service.

Frosty told us of many an exploit carried out at the station, with the recurring one being whenever there was a new engine driver, they would lure him into the station and Frosty 'stole' the train - often going right through the Herbert tunnel, which was nearby! Reversing back was a bit tricky because it meant backing up a steep incline! These were steam engine days and there was great billowing of smoke and steam!

If the same thing happened today, I'm sure the law would look dimly.

But Frosty was one of those old characters who drank hard and played hard but was honest as the day was long! A prankster too and was always laughing!

As with all the forest workers, Frosty was used to working with hand tools (slasher, shovel, spade, grubber) and was very skillful.

This reminds just how hard these guys used to work. P J Wilkie had a carrying business - a tipping truck. He won the contract to spread gravel on the Herbert Hill. To do this he drove his truck onto the Waianankarua river bed (Magaret Mackay's pit) and loaded on his own using a shovel! That's had work.

Later Snow, as we called him, worked a Clark's Mill at Maheno and then when it closed down, he put pressure on us, through local MP Alan Dick, for us to employ him.

The old bugger nearly killed me! We were logging windthrown Radiata Pine and he felled a standing tree but did not see me below me. I happened to switch off my chainsaw and heard the crack of his tree leaving the stump, starting to fall. I saw it coming straight for me and I discarded my saw and ran down a tree that had already been limbed - it was in line with the tree that was falling. At the top of the tree I jumped as far as I could and luckily there was a criss/cross of windthrown trees there for me to fall into! Snow's tree hit me on my helmet protected head - splitting it, but the criss/cross of trees took the force of the tree and I was unharmed.

Snow passes my home most weekends, he is in his 80's and often recounts the story and how badly he had felt when he say the tree heading in my direction. Then his relief when he saw me stand up!

Wally

Towards the end of the third training year - at the Forestry Training Center, Wakarewarewa, Rotorua - I managed to gain permission to keep a dog. Fair enough, dogs were not allowed, generally, but because I was to leave shortly; permission was granted.

Ross Lockyer and Bob Crooke were also allowed, though they were going into 'forestry protection' so perhaps needed a dog.

The three of us tootled up to Pukekohe on Bob's Model A Coupe to a dog breeder that had advertised in a paper we had read. For the record I sat in the small seat at the back - the Dickie Seat.

I bought a Doberman x German Shorthair Pointer, liver coloured and called 'Grin' by the breeder because that was what he used to do. Ross bought a Blue Heeler and Bob a Labrador x Alsatian.

I called my dog Wally after Wally Mapplebeck, my form teacher at CBHS who somehow managed to enthuse me to take education seriously.

Straight away I began to teach Wally manners and to behave appropriately - when you have special permission, you respect it or risk that permission being taken away.

At Naesby Forest, I had to convince Jack Rolls that Wally would be of no bother in the village, and he acquiesced. Trouble with this sort of thing is that you fight hard for a right and then someone else wants to be given the same right! Theo Russell therefore wanted a dog too, and Jack could hardly refuse him. His dog was a bit older and not so refined.

I used to take Wally for walks/runs morning and evening, mainly among the water races and dredge tailings. Making every day a lesson for him. Without being smug, I know about dogs and while I am no Dog Whisperer, I do not fear dogs and have the ability to manage them.

While I have had pig hunting dogs, and some thought them as 'savage', they were not, but having said that, if they were not chained up, I did not let them out of my sight. I have no truck with those who have these so called dangerous breeds and regard them as 'puppies', then somehow, they tear a young child apart! To me a dog is a dog and while you may well love it, a dog cannot be given the same status as a person.

Having said that, I wonder what was said of me as a walked in the suburbs of Christchurch. Cut off jeans for shorts, hobnail boots (fitted with tricoonies - if that's how it is spelt), with my dog(s) at heel. They were well trained and though they were not on a leash - verbally they were.

So on to Herbert Forest and I did not want Wally to be bothered with pigs. I wanted to train him to point to deer. As exercise for Wally, and for my own interest as well, I would take him pig hunting - me with a .22 rifle and Wally kept at heel.

I do have a lot of pig hunting stories and if time permits I will relate a few. Wally had learnt to pant silently when I was listening for animals.

Oh the other thing he did that I have never seen other dogs do - he would back into a low gorse bush and stand on his front legs only, and have a crap!

For a start, I would shoot smallish pigs, usually through an eye and I would share the meat among the forest workers. There were deer in the forest and very occasionally Wally would point one and I would shoot it.

He seemed keen to chase pigs though and so I let him do just that. He could hold (by the ear) a pig up to about 90 pounds and anything larger he would bail. This meant that I had to use my rough old .303 for the bail ups. I was getting too many pigs to eat so I sold them to Hughie Muldrew, who exported them.

Hughie used to employ a man in his butchery and I considered him unfair in his weighing and payment. And he was. My response was to fill the pig's mouths with stones to increase the weight - once I managed to place the butcher's saw in the rib cavity and gained that weight of that! It didn't give me very much more though.

I bought a big Alsatian x Collie fr9om the Dunedin Pound and Fred became a good companion to Wally. They could handle pigs, so well that I dispensed with my rifle. Using my Green River knife, I would slit the pig's throat! Hughie's buyers complained about this and and asked me to make a vertical cut and then cut the jugular vein without further cutting the meat. I did this many times, but on one occasion, I only cut the windpipe and the dogs had to re-catch it because they had headed off after more pigs, leaving me sitting on the rump of this one - when I stood up, he ran off!

The thing was though, I became to know almost every square meter of the forest because my dogs and the pigs took me there.

As well, I hunted possums for their skins and this too took me into every nook and cranny. Actually I bought my first colour TV from proceeds of possum skins.

Joe Bunting and Friend with Wally and Fred

On occasion I used to take friends out for a hunt and they were usually happy with the outcome.

As you can imagine though my old vehicle became a bit smelly with dogs and pig blood! Old Jim Robertson at the Waianakarua Garage and his offsider Jimmy Jamieson used to wash it out with disinfectant before they would work on it. I preferred the smell of the dogs to that of the disinfectant - but it didn't usually last long!

Fire in Compartment 5

Compartment 5 had been a good stand of Pinus nigra but thinking changed about the crop and it was decided that a full rotation was unprofitable. The area was clear-felled for the production of fence posts which was a lucrative market then.

In preparation for the next crop, the slash was heaped (windrowed) with great care to avoid soil being mixed in which would cause the fire to burn more slowly and remain burning for a long time. Charlie James had done the windrowing with his D4.

Weather conditions were good when the burn-off started and the heaps burnt cleanly. It was on the forest boundary and while it could be termed a 'slash burn', it was safe enough and the burn-off went well. As usual we monitored the area that night without problem.

A few days later we began planting and there was still the odd bit of slash that could be burnt and Doug Turner asked if he could light it. I agreed.

A 'tool' I often used was to rely on a burnt area to act as a firebreak - once burnt the fuel is consumed..............

That night, Jim Wilson rang me at about eleven o'clock that night to say there was a fire on the forest. There was a howling Southwest wind blowing! Now a Southwest wind is generally cold - often very cold but it brings low humidity. Fires burn best in low humidity!

I went outside and sure enough there was a great glow in the forest about the area of Compartment 5.

I called Bob Shaw and he picked me up to go and have a look at the fire. We found that it was the duff burning a second time, and the sparks carried by the strong wind kept igniting new areas!

The only danger point really was below a high rock bluff to the Northeast and below that there was a crop of 15 year old Cupressus macrocarpa. I went down there to take a look and saw that live sparks were landing in the trees, but luckily there was no wind down there, so they did not ignite anything.

In my rush I had not put on my boots, I wore my slippers, and the track was muddy down there - I lost both my slippers and never saw them again.

Bob went into the township to scramble the workers and I ducked home for my boots and readied the fire equipment - hooking the trailers to the trucks and warming the motors. I knew there was a great pond in Matheson's paddock - we had built it for firefighting purposes. I decided to set the Hale pump there because it could pump more volume than the Wajax. Use a by-pass and it would feed two fire hoses. Hales are a trick to prime, you close off the exhaust and fiddle around until a stream of water shoots out the pipe below it - then you turn on the feeder tap/valve. The inlet has to watched too because it could suck mud or float and suck air.

I decided I had better man the pump to make sure of a water supply. Two hose crews could pinch off each face of fire and another crew could relay water using the Wajax trailers filled from the creek below. I had no shelter where I worked and it was bitterly cold - the wind cut through my Swandri. I had a hand held radio so was able to talk to the teams and help direct them. Albert was in the office and I kept him recording what was going on. Actually we had omitted to inform District Office people or Conservancy - so no backup was on the way.

At about 3:00am I called Albert to ring Charlie James as his D4 was handy and there was enough light for him to operate to make firebreaks - bulldozers are good to have at fires!

I also asked him to organise Mags to ring around the wives to organise food for the 'troops'.

I was feeling frozen and called Colin over to operate the Hale - well watch it and make sure it didn't run out of fuel. I had tipped the last of the fuel into the tank and thought to warm up in the truck as I drove down to HQ to pick up more.

A bit dangerous that! I was so cold, and the truck so warm that twice, I nearly fell asleep as I drove down South Rodge Road! The warmth of the truck made my eyelids soooo heavy!

Good old Albert though - he had the fuel ready and a hot cup of coffee, which he demanded I drink. He had some sandwiches and made me eat one of those! Thus fortified, I went back to battle!

I had a small meeting with Bob, Herbie, Bert and Colin - old, experienced buggers and wise with it. Colin suggested that the wind might drop just before sunrise which would be a big help. We decided to be ready with water and hoses for when the wind dropped. It did and we hit the fire with all we had - we had had a long night!

Luckily, the wind did not build up again, and Charlie had made most of the boundaries safe with firebreaks - he's a good guy in a crisis too!

We had the fire out and it had not escaped into other areas. The pond was almost drained and I guess we all were at that. I sent everyone home except Colin. He and I sat there in the morning sun, drinking coffee and eating leftovers of the food the wives had prepared. We were watching just in case.

All was well again.

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.