Torrent Bay Visit
Early October we received an invite to help with protecting the beach at Torrent Bay in the Abel Tasman National Park. Due to a mix up Shirl wasn’t able to come so it was Rosie, Karla and me that drove to Kaiteriteri to board the water taxi. Once on the water we soon passed Split Apple Rock, an interesting feature, with its resting seabirds. Torrent Bay village was (or is) a settlement laid out and settled in the early days but now a place of holiday batches (or houses) right by the seashore with the Abel Tasman Great Walk passing through. We were helping to plant some 3000 native seashore, sand hugging plants which we did, with a little time to spare. That’s a lot of plants to dig in but it was easy going as they were all planted in the soft sand. We had time to wander around the streets as such as they are – nothing formed, just sand tracks really. The village has no national grid electric power supply and the only access is by walking track or by boat. There’s something about the place though.

Torrent Bay sand dune restoration.

World War 1, Gallipoli.

A Capital Few Days
We flew into Wellington, settled into our motel and then visited Te Papa, the National Museum of New Zealand. We were particularly interested in the World War 1, Gallipoli displays put together by the museum staff and Weta Workshop – of Lord of the Rings fame. There’s no doubt that Peter Jackson and his people certainly can make things realistic. One walked through the displays following a red line on the floor, with the days marked from 25th April, 1915 showing what happened on that particular day until the withdrawal. One New Zealand officer wrote: Total to date: 5000 casualties, about three men per yard of ground gained… Some of the models where about twice life size and the detail was very hard to fault. Sweat on the brow, blowflies and empty shells scattered about.

Staff Nurse Lottie Le Gallais upon reading about the death of her brother at Galipolli.

The percentage of wounded or killed was high – 93% for the New Zealanders, the highest (nearly double) of any of the other national force that fought at Gallipoli.

Next we called in at the National War Memorial to see more displays by Weta Workshop but here these covered all of World War 1. We did note a display listing men killed on Chunuk Bair, Gallipoli, and a relation, Trooper Victor Olsen of the Auckland Mounted Rifles, listed among many others, who died on those slopes.

There was much to reflect on with these visits and to have some thoughts for all the relations that went overseas to fight, from the Boer War through to World War 2. Some came home badly wounded and some just didn’t come back… I’m really thankful that I have never had to go to war in my life… How stupid it all is. These displays are in remembrance of World War 1 and there was even a

NZ 2015 ANZAC coin.

special 50 cent ANZAC “We Will Remember Them” coin issued for general circulation.

We spent another day wandering around Zealandia, a wildlife sanctuary all surrounded by a predator proof fence. This enables rare and perhaps nearly extinct native animals, to survive in their natural state. One can wander around these places and not see many animals at all but we did see the native bush parrot, the kaka, plus stitchbirds, fantails, various shags, a takahe, parakeets, and some green geckos.

Forest Geckos.

The Red Miners of Egremont Turn All Black

At the head of the Denniston incline looking down to Waimangaroa.

Karla and I headed for Waimangaroa, on the West Coast while Shirl visited family up north. Our aim was to try and find some old graves of relations that had come from the red iron ore mines of Egremont, Cumbria, England. They were relations on my father’s side of the family with the names of Glover, Little and Cook. Grandmothers to me – it just depends how many greats there are. They came to work in the coal mines at Denniston and Burnett’s Face which was in some pretty rough country high above the village of Waimangaroa. The ground was so rocky and hard around Denniston that when anyone died, they were buried in a small cemetery nearby Waimangaroa far below.

It was a tough life up on the plateau and many people, especially the women folk, hardly ever came down because the only way was to ride, fearfully, in an empty rail waggon on the very steep incline. Some never took that trip down to Waimangaroa in over twenty years. It seemed that our relations came as experienced miners to work the coal mines of Burnett’s Face and some younger relatives attended the Burnett Face School. When we passed by we only saw a sign stating where the school once stood and some rusty pieces of corrugated iron in the swamp nearby.

Denniston Rose is the story of a child growing up in the harsh conditions in Denniston – ‘The Hill’, in the years from 1882. Her story is continued an another book, Heart of Coal, both by author Jenny Pattrick. It is fiction of course but it certainly gave me something of the life, high in these West Coast mists and during the time our relations came to work in the mines.

Denniston town map.

My folk arrived in Denniston around 1908 and 1909 and I understand Tidy Rickerby, of the Bluebell pub in Egremont, helped some family members financially for their travels to New Zealand. Who came? My grandmother Janie Wilson Walls Rickerby/Simpson and my father William (she had married Robert Rickerby – who had died,) and her then husband Fawcett Simpson; also Richard Glover who married Elizabeth – nee’ Cook; and George Little, who married Mary Ann Cook in N Z. Mary Ann was one of Richard and Elizabeth Glover’s daughters. The Cooks, Glovers, Littles and Rickerbys were linked together with grandparents of those names going back in time. The population of the plateau was then around 1500 people.

Denniston was the larger town but in 1901, half a mile uphill, Burnett’s Face had two hotels, a bakery, three general stores, a butchery, a fancy goods shop and a public school. There is very little of the old buildings left but one can walk down some of the empty streets and imagine the town bursting with life. Some restoration has been undertaken at Denniston as a couple of the old coal wagons sit at the top of the incline on old rail lines to give an idea of what things were like. The incline fell 510 metres in 1.7 km and as one loaded wagon went down it pulled up an empty one. Twelve million tons of coal was carried down that incline over the years, the only access up onto ‘The Hill’ until a dray track was opened in 1902 and a fully formed road in 1905.

Linda Glover, Waimangaroa Cemetery.

Today there are descendants who live on the West Coast and many more who have moved to Christchurch and beyond. Some are buried in the Waimangaroa cemetery and nearby so we had a look and did find one relatives grave, a Linda Glover who died only two and a half months old. We looked for a H. Cook, a Doris Glover, and a William David Glover but did not find them. Many headstones had fallen and there were a number of unmarked graves so I think we were lucky to find what we did. We also called in on the Orowaiti Cemetery just outside Westport and found Walter Robert Cook and his wife Eliza Maria Cook. She died in 1923 and he died 1925. There are other relations buried here but we did not find them.

The Flag Debate?

NZ flag.

During my high school years I was very anti-British. They seemed to own everything major and even seemed to force their imports onto us too. They took our products in a mostly raw state and we even had British born MP’s, some, who refused to go to the First World War, but they had no hesitation in sending our young chaps off to World War Two. We had to stand up before watching any film being shown in the picture theatres to God Save The Queen, we had rationing of food, clothes and such during the war and then they dumped us for the Common Market, the front runner to the EEC as it was then called. We were so modest that choosing something like a colour for our rugby team would be too extreme so they went out and played in non de script black jerseys. New Zealand is so green, why not all green? But all black? One must admit that this has turned out okay though. At least it’s something different.

I guess it was understandable that I wanted some changes. Maybe this was just a third generation revolt? We had our own money but it still had the queen on one side. I made a point of always making sure the queen was on the back and the birds the facing part, of the notes in my wallet. And then there was the flag. So I made one up but I can’t remember what that first one was like! I did make up one later in my early twenties and that was a New Zealand grass green background with a kiwi in the middle. I think the kiwi was black. Maybe the background was black and the kiwi was green? Yes, that was it – a green kiwi.

Maybe a flag like this?

So much for idealisation and now we are to have a referendum on choosing a new flag. Not much choice really but a ridiculous amount of money spent to reach this stage, and two referendums? Logically one would decide first if a change was needed and then decide what to change. Is all this just a distraction from other things or for some ulterior motive I wonder?
From being a wild young “independent rebel” to more mature years, I’m thinking that the old flag looks a lot better now, especially given the selection that we have to choose from.  Even if we still have the queen on the back of our bank notes.