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A PERSONAL MEMOIR
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BY
DAVID CARTER
April 2008 |
Come school holidays, for many years, we were sent off to Val d’Or,
depending on the term, for 2 weeks, May and August, or for up to 6 weeks
for the Xmas holidays.
This was in the early to mid 40’s, wartime, petrol rationing and all
those things.
Getting there was a long operation, only 75 miles (to you later people
130 kilometres), but, to the Lower Hutt Railway Station for the train
leaving at 8:00 a.m. to arrive at Kopuraunga at about 1:30pm.
This train was scheduled to Woodville and finished there – and I think
after there went back to Palmerston North. Trains to Napier Gisborne went
from Wellington.
This a steam train, pulled by an AB-type locomotive (for those railway
nuts) the KA’s ran only on the main trunk line.
Then the railway line ran up the Western Hutt road, crossing the river
at Silverstream with the first stop at Trentham and then Upper Hutt.
The first real stop was at Kaitoke – a refreshment stop for 10 minutes –
a mad rush as it seemed very passenger jumped off, many before the train
had stopped, bought a thick sandwich and a slice of soggy fruit cake and
back on to the train for the pull over the Rimutaka Incline – a very
slow climb to the summit, the best part on an hour, the train was then
broken into parts and brake vans inserted every four or five carriages
for the run down to Cross Creek. Here we were introduced to the famous
Railway Crockery, thick, heavy, unbreakable (and good missiles).
Immediately from the summit was the longest tunnel, perhaps 1000 metres
long. The carriages were not particularly airtight. Steam engines had to
keep up steam, so puffing coal fired smoke. The lighting in the
carriages was gas, so the guard went through the train lighting the gas
lamps so we were not in darkness – I can still smell the choking
sulphurous smoke after 60 years.
The Rimutakas were always known for high winds and cars and caravans
have been blown off the hill road. I have seen caravans abandoned and
wired into the fences with Number 8 wire to hold them on the road.
One spot on the Wairarapa side the railway line was on a very long
embankment filling a deep gulley known as "Siberia", on one occasion a
train was blown off the line into the gulley.
Arriving at “Cross Creek” at the foot of the incline on the Wairarapa
side, the train was broken apart and reassembled, and a railway man went
along with a long-handled hammer, hitting all the wheels to ensure that
none had cracked under the heat generated by the braking effects on the
wheels.
Then off up through Wairarapa, Featherston, Woodside (This was a branch
line which fed into Greytown) - only a couple of miles, but a special
engine with one carriage met every train.
Then to Carterton (no relation) and next, Masterton with another
refreshment stop, and the same circus as Kaitoke and then another 25
minutes to Kopuarunga and Grandfather waiting in the Vauxhall 14.
We had to advise the guard that we needed to stop at Kopuaranga, always
wondered whether he would forget , but he never did. The station
consisted of a waiting room about 6 metres long, at ground level, a loop
line to allow shunting and two trains to pass (which I doubt ever
happened). Out onto the road, past what was then the postmaster’s house
where we Walked, Rode horses, or biked from Val d’Or to get the mail.
“Kopuaranga + Kopua: =deephole, ranga:= shoal of fish”
Three miles (5km plus or minus a bit) on Jacksons Line, a narrow winding
gravel road to the farm; in 2007 it had not changed a bit.
Val d’Or was a wonderful place to be: an incredible grandmother, wide
outdoors, hills to climb, eels to catch, rabbits to shoot and trap,
freshwater crayfish to catch, bush to explore, sledging down hills –
everything a youngster could do.
This is as I said earlier in the mid 1940s, Val d’Or was relatively
remote, being 12 miles north of Masterton on a back road, so no
electricity, no flush toilet (a bucket in an outbuilding), dependent on
the rain for drinking water, and we thought nothing of it.
A piece of history now. This part of the northern Wairarapa , was the
40-mile Bush, which ran from the Ruamahunga River, 10 miles north of
Masterton, to the Manawatu River, there it became the 80-mile Bush which
went through to Napier – the whole area was covered in heavy bush,
Totara, Rimu, Kahikatea, Matai and Maire.
So the farm was originally covered in heavy bush which had to be cleared
and when I was there were still patches of uncleared land but in
addition the farm was covered in decaying logs left over from the
clearances.
Sir Julius Vogel, the Prime Minister in the 1870s, brought out Danish
settlers, who in return for putting the railway line through to Napier
were allocated 40 acre blocks of the land at Mauriceville and my parents
bought one of these blocks, ran it as a dairy farm while my father ran
the Mauriceville Co-Op Dairy company from about 1930. That building
stands today and is used by the Mauriceville Lime Company as its office.
At the time we were there, Larsen’s, Lemberg's, Fosberg's still lived in
the area. Names such as Mauriceville, Dannevirke and Norsewood are
reminders of this part of history.
Now back a bit, cooking was done on a woodstove, in about 1943 a new
stove was bought which actually had a thermometer on the oven. A part of
our responsibilities was to cut wood for the stove – firstly my Uncle
Ivan, would catch the horses, harness them to a sledge, go out into the
paddocks and load up logs, and bring these back to the farm house, then
the circular was set up (no hand guards of any sort) the stationary
petrol motor would be wound into life and the logs cut into 400 to 600
millimetre lengths, it was our job the split these into fire-grate-sized
chunks – in hindsight the beautiful Rimu, Totara and Kahikatea – what a
waste. By the 1960s all this fallen timber was used.
The farm was basically self supporting for food - sheep were killed
regularly for meat and dog tucker.
There was no refrigeration, the carcass was hung from a tree in deep
shade and left for the air to circulate, strangely flies did not attack
the carcass as there was no rotting of the flesh. The carcass in winter,
would hang for up to two weeks , well-aged by then, and beautiful
eating.
It was into the mid 1940s that a kerosene fridge appeared – it took many
weeks to learn how it worked.
A cow or two were kept for milk and cream, but the cream allocation per
day was about the equivalent of 3 or 4 tablespoons – the rest went off
to the dairy factory. The separating of the cream was an activity which
we did not enjoy, it was a manual separator (Alfa Laval) with a whole
series of discs through which the milk went, but the problem for us
youngsters was the effort of get the machine up to speed – about 5 kilos
of discs, plus weight of milk up to about 4000rpm.
The rotation of meats through the week for meals (all sheep meats) would
be, Sunday – hot roast, Monday cold meat; Tuesday cold meat; Wednesday
cold meat; Thursday, Shepherd’s pie made from mince by mincing the
leftover cold meat; Friday, Shepherd’s Pie or rabbit.
To make afternoon tea a primus would be fired up. Firstly fill a ring
around the pressure head with methylated spirits. When the unit was hot,
pump up the unit with air to the push liquid kerosene in to heating head
to vaporize and to the burner – quite rigmarole but a very effective
stove.
Radio reception was poor and the main programme was 2YA and importantly
the weather report at 7PM. The radio was battery operated with the
filament supply being a 2 volt wet cell battery which had to be taken
into Masterton to be charged, The “Plate supply” was a couple of large
Eveready dry cells of about 45 Volts power giving 90 volts differential.
Transistors were not even thought of and the amateur radio fan built
crystal sets (lead sulphide being the active crystal), the bits and
pieces came from the Lamphouse, (Dephine’s father’s business) that being
the “Dick Smith Electronics” of the day.
Ironing clothes was with a heavy cast iron unit, detachable wooden
handles to protect the hand from being burnt, the iron heated on the
wood stove, spat on to check the temperature of the surface.
Lighting was by way of Kerosene lamps – an Aladdin with the “mantles”
and later a Tilley pressurized lamp, and of course the ubiquitous
hurricane lamp for outside use.
To go to bed you were given a candle.
However, again in the mid 1940s, a major step forward was taken with the
purchase and installation of a 6 volt lighting system, driven by a small
petrol engine, this driving a generator which charged four 6 volt batteries
– not good but better than the kerosene and candles.
The kitchen, with a wood burning stove was always hot and full of
blowflies – the remedy: fly papers. These were a strip of sticky paper
(probably coated with Vaseline), into which arsenic had been
impregnated. The flies stuck to these and died – there would be two or
three of these papers hanging from the lights at any one time (as an
aside, these papers were used as an aid to murder, where the papers
would be soaked in water to extract the arsenic, this arsenic then
placed in food and fed to the unsuspecting victim).
Christmas holidays were usually involved with shearing- The shearers
would arrive on the job about 5:30am, Shear for 2 hours - break for a 30
minute smoko, a further 2 hours, then break for lunch for an hour, then
a further 2 hours, 30 minute break and the a final 2 hours.
As boys we were kept quite busy, keeping the shearers pens full of
sheep, sweeping the boards, pressing the wool, picking over the fleeces.
A hot and noisy workplace.
The shearing plant was a 2 stand operation, a noisy stationary petrol
engine, exhaust inside most of the time – but we would not have missed
it for the world.
The topdressing of the land has changed beyond recognition; it was
delivered in Jute bags, a bag was opened, a rope over the shoulder and
the fertilizer was taken a handful at a time and thrown in a
semicircular motion out in front, and then another step and another
handful- still us this method around the garden today.
We were introduced to guns at a very early age, I was eleven when given
a 12ga shotgun and told to get some rabbits – the only instructions were
as to safety, never get through a fence carrying a gun, break the gun,
place the gun through the fence first, Then climb over/ through the
fence, pick up the gun, then close it making sure the safety catch is
on.
My first attempt, came over a hill – a rabbit 30 metres away, downhill
of me, bring the gun to the shoulder (but I omitted to hold it tight to
my shoulder). Bang, I was sitting on the ground with a sore shoulder.
Rabbit – did not even see where it went. Future results were better –
walked the hills looking for rabbits; cartridges were the equivalent of
$1.25 for 25 cartridges sixpence each.
Then, the end of the holiday and back to Lower Hutt, the whole thing in
reverse.
Kopuaraunga, flag down he train, leaving about 11:30am, first stop
Masterton, the refreshment stop (I guess that this was where the
Northbound and the South band Trains passed each other). At “Cross
Creek” the train was broken into parts, “Fell” engines inserted to take
the train to the summit, utilizing a central rail to gain the extra
traction, up the hill at a walking pace, people would get off the train
and walk alongside. The top tunnel was a horror piece, about 10 or more
minutes being half suffocated with coal smoke. Take the train apart,
unhook the “Fell” engines - then off again, a stop at Kaitoke for
refreshments and arrive Lower Hutt about 5pm – the end of the holiday.
These were the good old days – and it was within living memory.
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| ADDENDUM: By Rodney Carter, 17 April 2008 |
Yes, from Lower Hutt to Val d'Or was a very interesting
trip for two little boys, I may have been 8 and David 7. We did this trip
every holidays until I was about 12 when I got holiday jobs to raise funds
to buy a bicycle. With the money I purchased a 3 speed sports model and
biked to Val d'Or. On the way down the Rimutaka hill the brakes always got
very hot so young boys carried a built in remedy which caused a cloud of
steam to rise from the brakes when they were water cooled!
After the train left the Kaitoke tea rooms we gathered up the saucers from
the passengers and as we travelled down the Cross Creek side they became
flying saucers as we hurled them into space from the carriage platform into
the valleys below - in this small way we contributed to the efforts of the
Railway cleaners! I now wonder if the valley floors are covered with broken
railway saucers, but as brother David wrote, they were unbreakable. The
pupils at the Summit must have had an interesting time as they attended
school daily. They caught a train down to Cross Creek and returned by the
same means back to the Summit on an evening train.
Recently I walked over the old incline and a very interesting track it is
too, not overgrown as one would expect after about fifty years of neglect. I
guess volunteers have been keeping it clear. But the valleys, from the days
when we travelled over the incline when it was sheep mown, to now when all
the animals have been sent off to the Works, have changed considerably. The
bush is returning with trees twenty to forty feet high. The rock and earth
fill across the valley known as Siberia has been washed out, so although you
can get a vehicle to the top on the Wellington side as far as the summit's
long tunnel, down the Wairarapa side it is now impassable to wheeled traffic
except cyclists, who during weekends frequent the old railway track. If you
ever wish to do the walk include a torch in your pack. That long tunnel at
the top is very, very dark inside and you are likely to fall over a dead
animal half way through.
All the buildings, houses, Cross Creek school, engine sheds and engine pits
have disappeared and a visitor would be hard pressed to imagine what it had
been like when there were two thriving communities at the Summit and at
Cross Creek. The Mauriceville house we started our early life in belonged to
the Mauriceville Dairy Company so when our parents moved to Wellington in
1938 they had no hassles to sell our home. The refreshment rooms at Kaitoke
charged threepence for a ham sandwich but too expensive for two little boys.
On one occasion I remember watching Japanese prisoners of war unloading
wagons at the Featherston rail yards. It was certainly a memorable trip each
holiday.
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