BOB BOOK 02

1 If you decide to use this book for dunny paper, please thread a string through the hole provided and hang it up.

BOB

BOOK O2

(Revised edition) "Which bloody one MATE?" ( ? ) BOB & DAPHNE SIMMONDS & KIDS 1956 - 1973

E2 @

It won't be long now and I will have that

BLOODY STICK MATE

OLD TRUCKS, YOUNG HORSES,

and a few dogs

WARNING SOME CONTENT MAY OFFEND OR TITILLATE, As I could not please every man & his

DOG!!!

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

2

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

3

ROBERT (BOB) SIMMONDS 2

103,003 WORDS

When someone else had the big stick

1956-1973

ABBREVIATIONS USED ABOVE:

SG - Shepherd General * SS - Senior Shepherd. * HS Head Shepherd. * FH - Farm Hand. * DR - Truck Driver. * PRIV – Private Employer *L&S Lands & Survey Dept. * M/A - Maori Affairs Dept.* S - Sheep. * SC - Sheep & Cattle. * TRANS Road Transport. *P/F - Pine Forest. * S & C & D - Sheep & Cattle & Deer.

A couple of people have been confused about the big stick, when we were kids, we had plenty of sticks put around our behinds, when you are on wages, you are threatened all the time by your boss waving his bloody stick at you. Later when you are the boss, you get to wave the stick at others, and later still, if you survive you get to lean on it. for this period i am still ducking the stick.

As this book is about shepherding and dogs I have given the dogs the job of taking care of the worst swear words.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

4

Further to the above, if you read somewhere that I have referred to a MAORI as a maori, even today in this political correct world that does not necessarily make me a RACIST.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

5

While the contents of each chapter may not be in the order it happened the chapters themselves are in sequence.

Like the books that follow, this is going to be written the same as I talk swearing and all, the whole deal as a saying I have used a bit goes

all over the

place like a mad women's shit'. However, as my brother in-law Clem

Bullot said, if it is not that way it will not sound like BOB. When Daphne has told

"The same way as he talks?" "Yes!" " Swearing and all?" "Yes!" They nearly others what I am doing, they all have said what!

all have said that’s the way if it's about Bob Simmonds those of us who know him have to be able to recognize him through the way it is written , and the rest can like it or lump it. It is as a friend said, write it the way you see it because there is only one Bob Simmonds. Lying in bed this morning at about six o’clock with poor old Daphne trying to stay asleep for a bit longer, I am jabbering away and trying to justify the way I have written some bits up to now and realized that if I don’t write it the way I see it I certainly will sound false.

Whenever you read something and it seems out of sequence it most likely is, sometimes I will be writing down something, about somebody on his first day and then realize that a lot has already been said about him that should have been mentioned before, but wasn't. For you computer literate persons yes I know how to cut and paste, and copy and paste but it is difficult when you have inserted pictures.

Anyone who has been called a bugger, a bastard, an idiot, a no hoper, or anything else probably was and most likely still is. Anyone who has been referred to as a good bugger l bloody well hope you still are!

I could not swear on the bible or anything else about the accuracies of dates or events, and SOME OF THIS IS BULL SHIT; BUT SOME OF IT IS NOT, if you can work out WHICH IS, AND WHICH IS NOT, you have done better than ME. l just, have not bothered to get this all dead right as most of it happened a fair while ago, however just to be on the safe side l pinched the disclaimer from the accountant's Bill. Then added a couple of others on, just to be safe, l hope.

This book covers the whole period of my life while

some other bugger was saying and waving the stick about.

C robberteebobs books

do this,

or

do that

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

6

Chapter 09

W GRIFFINS & SON

9200 words

I had been all set to finish school for about two months. I had handed in anything belonging to the school, taken my army cadet’s uniform back to the army hall in Tauranga. Left and went home Friday afternoon thinking I was all set to start a mechanic’s apprenticeship on Monday at Tappenden Motors the Ford dealers in Tauranga. Dad comes home from work and there was nothing said about Monday morning so I said nothing about work either. Saturday morning I hear them whispering about something and the old man goes out and comes back real quick with the paper and looks at me all serious like and says look at this, the manager at Fords has committed suicide they won’t want to be worrying about an apprentice. Then adds, "l don't think you should go down there on Monday." Thinking

about it years later, l realized that the paper business was all nonsense, the whole thing was to get me out of the house. Whether the guy did top himself or not I never bothered to find out and quickly could not have cared less.

Mum and I had not been getting on too good and I knew she wanted me out of the house, and if I went to Tappendens I would have to stay at home maybe for years and she was not going to have that. Hence, the old man says look at this Robbie there is a job on a sheep farm at Te Puke and as you always wanted to live on a sheep farm I think you would be better there. They made a phone call, stuffed some clothes into a bag and by 3 p.m. I was sitting in an 8x10 foot hut, on a farm at Rangiuru road about 40 miles from home. My new title was FARM HAND. A real sudden change of career before it had even started.

Little brother was the big winner in this change of

plans, not only did he get the bedroom to himself, he inherited my bike as well.

Bob and Vera Griffins were great people, but the policy was that Bob could only employ two men and a boy, and once you were eighteen you were out because of a higher wage rate. I had only been there a couple of months and soon found out the difference between school and work. We were baling hay and Bob sent me to follow behind the baler to straighten the bales up, so they would be easier to get up the loader, however when the baler hit a place where the crop was a bit lighter subsequently it went faster. Now it was bad enough having to walk between the baler and the trucks, one of which was being driven by the contractor’s fifteen year old daughter, and I was not going to run in front of her. Soon my go-slow was holding up the whole job because the loaders needed to have a bit of speed up to work properly.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

7

"Run here, or walk home as slow as you like, but when l get there tonight, you and your gear had better be gone." Needless, to say I ran when I had to Bob jumps off his tractor and just said

and quite enjoyed seeing the bales fly up the loader knowing I had set them up just right. After that day, I was treated like a man and not a boy and soon was up on a horse mustering with him and the shepherd, a great guy about my Dad’s age. Wally Thompson was a returned service man who after the war owned a trucking business at Raglan. I remember Wally telling me how he had two Leyland Comets flat out carting back and forth between the Raglan wharf and Hamilton, man that really impressed me

The farm owned an eight-ton Commer truck and they carted all their fat lambs to Auckland. Bob and Wally took turns doing these loads to Auckland, one this time the other next time. Wally helped get the truck bug into me. Sometimes when he got back I would wait until he was shutting the gate, and then rush out,

and he would say "She's all yours" and I would drive it across to the truck shed. It may have only been 200 yards but I could change plenty of gears and the 2-speed diff was up and down half a dozen times. Between Bob and Wally one for stock work the other for trucks; these two set the pattern for my entire life. Bob got me a couple of dogs and I was hooked on the life as a stockman.

Mushrooms were a treat at home, but for a month or so when facial eczema was about, they were everywhere. I started carrying an old Billy and a bit of salt around with me and when I was out, riding around looking for cast ewes, I would pick a heap of mushrooms, boil up the billy and have a huge feed. (The ewes would be locked in paddocks with no grass and feed on hay so starting a bit of a fire was no problem). Bob was worried about his stock and prayed for cooler

weather, I was worried about it getting cooler and not being able to have a feed of mushrooms. There was an old abandoned homestead with an orchard down the back of the farm. How they ever got the milk out I do not know, but the fruit, peaches plums everything you could eat until you could eat no more and did not even have to ask mum. Vera would slice raw plums up at night and sprinkle sugar over them and that would be the start of breakfast tomorrow. Bob and I always did the dishes at night while Vera put the kids to bed. I do not think we ever washed a pot the whole time I was there, Bob always said those need soaking fill them with water and leave them on the bench. I never found out who washed them but they were never there in the morning.

Whenever the tractor driver needed a hand, I would be there helping Lorrie and always thoroughly enjoyed being with him as there was always a bit of tractor driving or such like.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

8

Lorrie Edwards was about the same age as Wally and a great guy too, a young fellow could not have been treated better by his work mates than I was there.

We used to spray a lot of inkweed in those days and years later when I heard somebody going on about Vietnam I always wondered just how much those guys really got on them. The spray used in the late fifties was almost as potent as what they used in Vietnam. Nobody worried about washing it off in those days.

Dad had a 1951 MK1 Zephyr Six that I got my licence in and I thought it was cool driving around in it however; Bob had a 1953 Dodge,. The mailbox was about a mile from the house and it became my job to go down and get the mail and the fresh bread for lunch six days a week. The first day Bob told me to go and get the bread and mail I must have looked a bit taken aback because Vera asks," What is wrong?" I am thinking about the business with the hay, and said "Even if I run you will not get it until lunchtime tomorrow". Bob laughed and said "Don't try to be as dumb as you are trying to look, the keys are in the Dodge, use it." I had a huge fright in that car doing that job one day, you could almost say I bloody near came to grief, I had shot out of the house into my boots and away. I hit the first corner going down a bit fast and went to stand on the brake, Shit cannot reach it, bootlace not done up and stuck under the door; another lesson learnt.

has laces, do the bloody things up.

lf your footwear

Nobody ever saw me getting around in footwear of any sort with laces dragging on the ground, it was just too dangerous, if there were laces they were always done up. After getting the bread a couple of times without wrecking his car sometimes Bob would send me into Te Puke to pickup stuff for the farm. Over the summer when the fruit was ripe Griffin seniors would come down from Auckland and it became one of my jobs to take them over to the old orchard in the Dodge. It was too rough and dirty for their Vauxhall Velox.

( Boy l felt important to be trusted with a car like that, l would have almost worked for my tucker just to be able to drive it.) From the road gate to the house was about one and a half miles of steep windy metal track that Dad really did not like traversing either way and if he could have done it without losing face would have had me walk from the gate. Consequently, he could not understand how Bob could let a sixteen-year-old drive his car up and down it and was quite horrified when I told him Vera was up and down it twice a day when she took the kids to and from school. "Further more Dad, Wallies track is that much steeper, some times he cannot get down it never mind about going up it, and he has to come though the paddocks to use this highway".

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

9

Quite often later whenever he was going on about where l went with survey vehicles, l would wonder how he squared it with the stories of driving trucks towing guns and what have you around some of those mountain tracks in ltaly during the war. bugger if i know.

Wally, he only had two plain-eyed heading dogs and one horse, and some might think, why is that worth writing about, well first a plain eyed dog does not bark, and mainly will head a mob, not hunt [push it].

Griffin's sheep were big five-year-old Romney ewes that are not easy to

move around, without a bit of weight [barking] Walter never had any trouble, he was a real stockman. Now about his horse, quite often a horse used day after day is likely to get a sore back or wither. Wally would turn up at work every morning with this full sized beer bottle and put it up in the tack room. For a while, I thought he must drink the beer while walking back to his house about half a mile away. No, he had two boys and he and the boys would pee in the bottle each morning then he left it in the shed all day to brew, at night unsaddle his horse, and empty the contents of this on the horses’ back. The ammonia etc hardened up the horses’ back, that is part of the reason why he only needed one horse, another reason that fellows like Wally never had much horse trouble was that quite often they would lead the horse up or down steep hills, and that took a lot of pressure off their backs and withers. Most YOUNG FELLOWS just thought the OLD BOYS were just plain scared to ride up and down in case they fell off.

Years later I met and had the privilege of knowing another stockman like Wally, MERTON PETERS more about Merton when we get to EDGECUMBE BLOCK for the 2nd time (chapter 22). The first dog I bought, Lorrie Edwards took me to see a

friend of his on a Survey block at Tauranga, and he sold Tip to me. Tippy

saw

off many better dogs, but he hung on untilWaharoa. When we arrived at this guy’s house Lorrie walks up to the door behind me and told me to knock. There is a bit of noise on the other side and the door opens; no bugger there, then I see this head below the door handle and said to this kid, "Is either your Mum or Dad at home?" There is a bit of giggling from two more kids and one of them points at the one holding the door; then the embarrassing truth hits me. This is no kid, this woman is a dwarf, when you are growing up you soon find out that all the things you have heard seen or read about but never seen or given another thought about, are all out there. Do not be in too big of a hurry to judge people fat* thin*short*tall given half a chance we all can cope in our own way. I now know couples where one is crippled, one has a cleft palate, one’s in a wheel chair; the list goes on. Most of these people are happy with their lot.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

10

On the other hand, anyone who gets around with a hood on his head is either a criminal or soon will be one.

She said straight away "You must be Lorrie’s friend, sit down and we will have a drink while we are waiting for my husband." She drags a chair around with her, up and down bench table etc, tea, biscuits and we are all sitting there chatting away, the husband arrives and we do the business with the dog, and I robbie simmonds now own a dog, the first of many.

The Tippy photo was taken at Griffins with the

woolshed in the background. jip, is the heading bitch that bob gave me when i left to TIPPY

JIP Jip spent hours eyeing that duck and working it around. Mum was convinced that she was going to eat it, and made me tie her up This photo was taken about eighteen months later at Dad’s place on Belk Road on the Tauranga side of the Kaimais on our way to Edgecumbe Block at Kawerau.

Those are two of the dogs that went to Hamilton in the little FORD 8 both of them were with me for many years, and helped muster tens of thousands of acres, moved many thousands of stock units, walked and ran countless miles.

THERE is a yarn to tell about those trees on the left side of Tippy’s photo. The boss had built new shearers’ quarters with flash flush toilets and all the modern conveniences for the shearers and everyone was pleased as punch except one big old tart, every morning after smoko she climbed over the fence and had her morning crap under the trees. Bob and Wally had had enough of this because one of Wally’s dogs would go in there and roll in it. They got a long handled shovel tied a piece of pipe onto the handle and went around to the other side of the trees. That morning when she went into the trees, they were ready, pushed the shovel under her bum, and removed the evidence. Man, she knew her bowels had moved but she could not see it. They reckon she came out through the fence as if she had the devil after her, screaming and yelling. She never crapped under Bob’s trees again.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

11

About those shearers quarters somehow or other after they had only stayed in them once, Lorry's house burnt down and he was moved into the shearers quarters which is where he stayed for the duration of my stay there. The shearers moved back to their old quarters with their outside dunny, so the old rousie was happy about that, she was about the only one who was though.

I have never regretted ending up on a farm instead of in a garage, being on a place with no young fellows meant no peer pressure when my school friends were drinking up, partying, and getting into trouble. Wally and Lorrie held me in check. A few quiet words said at the right time in the right way is all most youngsters need but not many are lucky enough to get it. I also respected Bob, probably because he seemed to trust me to do the right thing whatever that was, apart from the dog meat business, he made sure I was ready for a job and could handle it before he sent me out to do it. All that is needed in not developing the “i cannot do it� attitude is to have somebody say

" lf l can do it so

can you, so bloody do it". I always done the best I could and tried hard

not to let him down. Nevertheless, that did not stop me getting brassed of with him at times. Not long after I started with him I think Bob decided to see if I would last the distance on a dirty job and as everything was soaked in or painted with creosote, there was always plenty of the stinking stuff around, there were no treated posts, timber, etc then. Therefore, it is not long before Robbie is under the woolshed creosoting all the shed piles, posts, and rails on the night pens. I was under there for about a week, on the second day wherever I had got too much of this stuff on me, it started to burn, then after about three days I started to get blisters all over. For a couple of days after meals I heard Vera going crook at Bob about this cruel and harsh treatment, but he kept me at it and eventually the job was finished and the sores healed, but l still have a couple of scars on my face as a reminder to keep going, never chuck in the towel.

Another time he and Wally decided that it was time I learned how to kill the mutton, but I would need a month or two learning on the dog tuckers first. So on the day set aside for this job the dog meat and muttons; they get me into a catching pen in the woolshed and here is this old Southdown ram. Wally catches this POOR RAM and tips it over. There is a flash of steel and a creak the ram is dead, broken neck and blood going through the grating. I could hear the dogs snarling and scrapping under the shed.

A Southdown is not a particularly big sheep but they are built much like a big pig or a brick shit house. They are unbelievably strong with rather short legs, tricky enough to catch, tip over, and dispatch even when you know how to do it. Wally either had some help from the big man or a bit of luck that day. The C robberteebobs books

dogs knew how revised and reprinted Feb 2013

12

to read a calendar too, they knew what day it was, and as we went through the door, they went straight under the shed.

The lesson continues on the dog meat, then I watch while they did the mutton. I get the job of cleaning up the mess, no dog dosing then just heave the guts out to the dogs, and into the pigpen. Now after this DEMO I am thinking this is easy, no sweat. Shit they did a dog meat and a mutton in under half an hour, I only have to kill one dog meat, one hour at the most even for a learner.

Well the week goes real quick Wally and I get the killers into the yards; Being An Old Military Man he calls for volunteers, none step forward so it is YOU, and YOU and the condemned are marched into the shed. I get my orders, which are to return the survivors to the killer paddock, and to sharpen my knife.

“No need to do that Wally I have been up half the night filing the bloody thing away to half its original size. With all that sharpening, it should have been like a razor but by the time I had finished with it, the cutting edge was the same as the other edge the only way to tell which way to hold the thing was by the shape of the handle.”

I get back to the shed Wally has the mutton hanging up, so I assumed that he would now run through the killing instructions again and guide me though the actual killing process. Would not you expect that, YES? NO! JUST "Kill your dog tucker over there in that pen where he is, I’m off. See you tomorrow." He is gone, the bastard!! almost bloody unbelievable and I am on my own, even the dogs seemed to have disappeared. If these dogs could read a calendar it should not be any surprise that even they thought this was going to be a non- event and there was not going to be much blood getting through the floor. OK ROBBIE, here is this ram, this is not the same little chap he had looked outside, this bugger is as big as a horse, and the pen does not look the same size as the other at about 6 x 12 feet SHIT O DEAR, no this pen is at least 12 x 24 feet. After about 15 minutes, the only one ready to collapse on the floor is Robbie Simmonds, and I decide that I will never catch him like this. Well I had been to as many cowboy pictures as any one else and I am soon back with a bit of rope. Eventually the ram is roped and pulled up against the rails. Now I know that Wally had it on its side when he cut its throat but surely if it is standing up and its head is down it will bleed quicker. Tie his head down to the floor with the other end of the lasso. Now we are all set, out with the razor sharp knife to cut his throat RIGHT ? WRONG.!

It is at this time of my career I find out that woolshed grinders are not really for sharpening shearing gear; the shearers just use them because they are there, but the real reason they are there is so shepherds can sharpen their knives. While I got away with it this time and got my knife sharp, it led to a lifetime of going to Doctors to get bits of steel out of my eyes.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

13

OK Mr Southdown I am all set; get back to the slaughterhouse and get in position, bugger me I actually seem to have his throat cut. GOOD, there is a bit of blood going through the floor, and the dogs seem to think the job is back on track because they are back under the shed. This seems to be taking a while Robbie, Shit I have to break his neck; undo the rope from the floor get him by the nose and pull his head back GOOD, no actually it’s BAD, because now there is a great streak of blood up the wall and over into the wool room. I really have to get this bugger down on to his side, unlike Wallies POOR RAM from last week, which with hindsight had obviously just fallen over with fright. Well he cannot have much more blood in him he has to be rather weak by now surely, so I start taking the rope off. Now by this time the dogs are getting sick of waiting for the guts and come in to see what is holding up the second course. The ropes are off and MR Southdown has had enough of this, what with being roped to the wall, had his throat half cut, some idiot pulling his head back, looking at his tonsils, now these bloody dogs are gawking at him, so he is off around the pen again only this time he’s spraying blood everywhere painting the walls. The dogs are really getting excited and are yipping and barking however I don’t know if they are excited or pissed off about the amount of blood going on the walls and not through the floor there’s blood everywhere, the rope is covered in sheep shit and blood so that option is out. Desperate times call for desperate solutions. There is a huge axe in the other pen they use for chopping up the dog meat, this BATTLE-AXE is soon in my possession, and I am back in the other pen with Mr Southdown.

I had noticed that while animals intended for this end use were still walking around they were referred to as dog tucker, but once they were dressed [which you would have thought should be undressed] they were referred to as being dog meat.

Well this thing was absolutely still on his feet, so I guess it is still dog tucker not what the axe is there for but in a couple of minutes you will bloody be dog meat MR SOUTHDOWN. However, after about half a dozen swings at the ram with no success except for cutting one of the ropes that were used to raise and open the pen gates, I hear a noise, and here are Bob, Wally, and old Lorrie busting themselves with laughter. IT HAD BEEN A SET UP. Wally finished the job and I just about got a medal for effort. These buggers were starting to think that YOUNG BOB was not going to be a quitter and might last the distance. I have always thought this; no throwing in the towel caper goes back to the lesson in the hay paddock page 1 and Waikino’s airstrip chapter 16.

When I asked Bob why they did not let me finish, he said that from just watching me the previous week it was obviously I thought there was nothing to it, so figured I was due a dose of humility so I would be helping Wally for about a month or so before I could do it on my own. It was better than mum's dose of C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

14

bloody castor oil, I can tell you., but I am more likely to think that the way the axe was flying around MR BOB GRIFFIN probably thought his woolshed was in imminent danger of being demolished.

Each year they would walk a mob of cattle from Gisborne. We went down to Rangiuru railway station yards. Bob would count them, pay off the drovers and we would take over the mob and walk them back up Rangiuru road to the farm. The same thing happened with the ewes, they bought 800 to 1,000 fiveyear-old ewes each year, got one lambing out of them, and sold the ewes, and fattened the lambs, which they trucked to Auckland. While the cattle walked to Rangiuru, the ewes travelled in stye with NZR right to the Rangiuru station. On my last summer there, Bob thought he would move with the times and truck these ewes up from Te Araroa sale yards. This was no Sunday drive; this is about 300 km and not with two truck and trailers with 400 / 500 ewes on each unit.

NO, Opotiki Transport gets the job and to move the 800 odd ewes in one hit they put something like eight five ton and four three-ton trucks on to the job.

BELOW; truck (1) is the same model as Griffins carted the lambs to Auckland on & the same as I later drove at Waharoa Transport. (2) is the one I would later get my heavy traffic licence with, at Barugh & Son, (4) is the same as (3) that I owned in 2000. There she is in our yard at Kaingaroa Forest, amazingly she ended up in a museum a few kilometres from Griffins farm.

2

4

3

5

1 4 and 5 were part of the fleet that brought the ewes 1 in, they probably got about 50 ewes on the smaller trucks and about 85 on the bigger ones.

The small trucks (4) were on 16-inch tyres with a 4-cylinder petrol engine a 4-speed gearbox and single speed diff. The 5 ton models (2) were on 20 inch tyres some had 6 cylinder Humber Super Snipe engines some had bigger 4 cylinders with the same gear box and diff. However, the deck was about half as long again.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

15

It was a real big deal for me to be up on my horse, my dogs behind me having to clear the way through for traffic and making sure I shut all the road gates. I just loved it, but within an hour, we would be over the Rangiuru Bridge and onto Rangiuru road where Bob was pleased to be away from the dangers of a main road, but for me it was a real anti- climax. My love of droving stock on the road stayed with me all my life. In those days, you could not truck more than thirty miles against the rail without going to court and proving financially that you would be losing by using the rail. If you won the case against the railways then the local carrier would have a go at you, however Griffins won both cases and in doing so obtained their goods service licence and the right to legally, cart their own lambs. W Griffins and Son's main argument against the NZR was that by the time the lambs had been trucked down to Rangiuru Station, put on the train, waited for hours, and finally got to Auckland they had lost one to two pounds in weight, which equalled so many pounds in money. To prove their case a local carrier pirated a couple of loads up then later used the information to apply for his own licence.

It did not seem to take too long and I had enough money saved up to start thinking about a car, I am home one week end and Dad says that he saw a little FORD eight at some car yard on Cameron road, with £200 on the window. Then he tells me, seeing I had been such a good boy and not wasted my wages like so and so down the street, he would go guarantor for me so I could buy it on time payment. (I was getting five pounds (ten dollars) a week and board) Most likely Mum did not like the old man coming out and getting me as much as he did, and he did not like driving up and down Griffin’s drive, which he thought was a death trap. I bet they thought I would soon wreck the car and

(Wrecking the car happened sooner than they thought it would then they were back coming out to get me on the weekends). not be able to get home.

We get down to this car yard and the old man says Robbie it is just like Dah’s old one. Robbie it has a radio [a huge thing in a steel box about the size of a small fridge]. The old bugger probably thought that was good news because as it took up half the passenger’s space he probably thought if there is no girl, there is not going to be any illegitimate kid to worry about.

that was the right word to use at the time but what a bloody awful word it really is Thank god its not used much today. There are plenty of legitimate words that are worse than many swear words. illegitimate;

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

16

Robbie, look at this, look at that, he was doing more selling than the sales man was. The guy gets it to go and I notice that the amp metre is way up on charge side which he and the old man both tell me is good, plenty of power. After the paper work is completed, signed, and witnessed by an independent witness we are all away, the sales joker to get his bonus, the independent witness back to washing cars for the salesman, Dad goes home to report mission completed. I head back to the farm. I just get to Te Puke and the thing conks out. In to a garage "There is no spark" says this guy, "The battery is flat." I tell him how good every thing is, about how the amp metre really goes way up on the charge side. He has a look, and then explains.

When a generator was good and the battery was in the right way around the amp metre would point to charge. When the generator was not good the needle would point to discharge; “YOU UNDERSTAND?” he says; “Yes I understand.” "Well, when a generator is not good and the battery is put in the wrong way around, guess what?" "What mate?"" The needle will point to charge and everything is hunky dory" RIGHT? WRONG -when the battery runs out of juice the spark stops and the motor stops.

"Just like what has happened to you", he says and it will cost so much to fix. Now most people living in the lower socio – economic bracket on the way home after buying a car have spent the rest of their money filling it up with petrol and buying a big tin of polish. "Who do you work for?" Bob Griffins. "I know Bob I will give him a ring.” He puts the phone down and tells me to come back in an hour as that will give him time to organise the parts and by then his man will be back and he will fix it. Not

likely mate it is only sixty minutes since the last bugger had a go at me. He fixes the old girl up, new generator, regulator, and battery. I get home and Bob tells me so much a week is coming out of my pay. This is big time I have a car on HP and a levy on my wages. I get £5 a week. About two weeks later Robbie is tearing into town in the dark and it has been raining. There is this bit of a corner before a straight that Wally and Lorrie are always telling each other how fast they could go on it.

Therefore, I am thinking I will show these old guys what it’s all about.

Wally has a 1939 Dodge sedan and Lorrie has a 1956 Austin a35; Bob has a 1938 Ford 8.

Now this is a bit like the “boy racers”, but there is no diesel on the road where they start to make the tyres smoke, but there is a bit of “water” on the road around the corner. About 200 yards from the corner Stirling Moss starts winding C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

17

the Ford up so when he hits the straight he has a good start on those two old guys, and new record is in the bag. Into the corner at 35 MPH hit the gas peddle oh shit all over the place, crash, splash, into the swamp under a big willow tree. The Ford is on her side and I get out the right hand window as the water is coming in the left hand one. Another phone call to MR Griffin’s; he takes me home to Mum and gives me a few days sick leave. On his way home through Te Puke he gives his mechanic mate another job. However, this was a major deal so the insurance man was involved and the Ford was on sick leave for a bit longer than I was but it was not long before I had her back. You wait until you are nearly around the corner before you start speeding up. That was the only vehicle insurance claim I have ever had, about a month after becoming a car owner.

I do not know for sure but I now suspect that when some clever fellow said New Zealanders are famous for the number eight wire attitude he may have been talking about a time that had already passed. From the late sixties more and more steel wire was used, and during and after the Second World War, number eight was impossible to get hold of, something to do with the composition of the wire being soft but strong. However they did not have too much trouble making steel wire for the military and there was a lot of this stuff used on farms, but it was hard tensile eight-gauge wire, hard to tie without breaking, hard to use and heavy and of course, it rusted, being un-galvanised. Griffins had two blocks of Maori land down at Rangiuru that they had leased for years, about 200 acres each that old man Griffin had fenced up with this steel plain wire and some exmilitary barbed wire.

One Block was swampy, however they had put in a lot of drains, cultivated it sown new grass and it was looking good, so Bob decides the next step was to replace all these old fences. This block was about 2 miles from the Rangiuru Railway Station and used mainly as a holding block for stock in and out, so Bob decides that we would pull these fences down and a fencer would put up the new ones. They had worked this place up with an old Fordson major Chapter 19 petrol motor with steel wheels all around. Sitting on that all day must have been torture Bob Griffins was no quitter either. I was very intrigued with this ancient machine but under no circumstances allowed to drive it. As a rule, Bob did not let anyone on it because with the steel wheels, it was a rough ride and you really had to hang on, these wheels were mean looking things, with steel lugs welded around them. You would not be walking home if you fell under it. Before we could start on the fences, there were a couple of twenty feet long bridges to go in across these new drains, so the Fordson was fired up, and we soon had the poles across and the timber on site. There was no treated pine; this was eight by- three- inch rough sawn native full of resin and hard as steel, so here we are with all the gear.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

18

MATERIALS: girders / poles, decking, big nails; LABOUR: three men, one boy; TOOLS: two claw hammers, one cross cut hand saw, one axe, a crow bar, plus a few assorted bits of gear. big bob is strutting around cocksure of himself, Christ Almighty with all this HIGH TECH GEAR and the experience of himself and his crew this is going to be no sweat. He gets his pipe going, Bob always smoked a pipe, if we got caught out in the dark on the horses and they got into a bit of a jig jog a stream of red hot bits would go flying out behind him. And when it was raining he would turn it upside down, then if the horse jig jogged bits would fall down and get under his bum, then it was anyone’s guess as to whether the horse was jig jogging or not. The Fordson had been kicked in the guts a couple of times and got going, the girders were over, and with a bit of buggering around with crowbars etc, we are ready for the deck. Up to this point the job is well on schedule with half a dozen boards across the girders, one side straight. "Get the nails young Robbie," HELLO! This is bloody hard wood, nails will not go through. No battery drills then, big or small, so the next decision is OK we will wire them on. A bit of fence is pulled down, then we find out what the problem is with this wire; when it is bent sharply to bring it back up it just broke off. OK we will get all the boards cut then bring some real number eight wire down tomorrow. Get the saw, young Robbie, Holy smoke says Bob, "Who's been abusing the saw; it will not touch this wood". Then after every one of us has had a go, he decides that the saw needs a trip to town to the saw doctor, Te Puke is not far down the road so the boss is gone to get his saw sharpened. Wally is in charge of the Fordson, and told not to let young Robbie anywhere near it, he still remembers the Commer’s gearbox. One hour later the BOSS is back with this new saw, Lorrie asked, "What you are going to do with that"? Couple of puffs on the pipe, little bit of smoke "What is wrong with it"? "Look at the teeth on the damn thing" says Lorrie. Another couple of puffs a bit longer than last time and a bit more smoke than last time "That is a RIP saw we need a good cross-cut saw". "bull shit" says Bob "these big teeth will RIP that timber to bits". "bull shit" says Lorrie.

This is getting a bit out of hand, why is it that even

when the Boss knows bugger all about something and he knows it, he is always right. So he starts cutting but he is that pissed off and has been taking some good deep breaths; you can hardly see what is going on under the pipe smoke, and he soon has to stop. Lorrie gets the saw half a dozen strokes and having done no better than Bob, Wally gets it. This is just like relay races with a batten at school. Wally is a stockman come truck driver and this is not really, what he is working for griffin and son for, so the saw soon is passed on to me. Now Bob thinks SHIT he cannot let me have a go as it would not look too good if young Robbie did cut a bloody board.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

19

After all, they are teaching me it is not the other way around and considering how I was the last one at school; the bloody teachers might have just managed to teach me something useful.

He battled on for a while but it was obvious it was not going to work, we just had too many to do so Bob is back to town to buy a chainsaw (the first one on Rangiuru road). According to the Boss it was that expensive he had to get his DAD to mortgage his house in Auckland to pay for it, consequently the thing was kept in his office, anyway the bridges were finished but way-out side budget both in money and time. Next part of this development job, these fences. Wally goes first pulling the post staples out, no battens. Lorrie comes next laying the wires out three in one row, two in the other. The plan says that Bob and Robbie will come along behind and roll them up. This wire was not as easy to roll up, as planned and ended up with one strand in each roll, but I learnt how to roll up wire and that stood me in good stead over the years.

The other block was on the Te Puke side of Rangiuru on a bend on the Mangarewa River; it flooded quickly and frequently, and he had to rely on the locals to phone him whenever the water level came up. However, it cost them peanuts to keep, and even though it was not an important part of the operation, it was handy knowing there was always extra tucker there. I think I was only down there the once. The main problem was that the Maoris had more land down the river and if they waited until Bobs sheep were starting to swim, they could be 100% positive that some would end up on their blocks. They always gave Bob some back but he suspected that they never returned them all and I imagine he was right. The Mangarewa River Block may have cost bugger all directly but indirectly I bet it cost plenty. These cunning Maoris leased it cheap, Griffin's thinks they are good jokers, who then steal and thieve from them. Twenty sheep DOOM AND GLOOM, then bugger me the bastards give back five and then they really are good jokers, the Maoris were happy and Bob was happy. That system worked all right and every one knew how it worked, however the SHINY PANTS BRIGADE tried to please the radicals and gave the bloody land back to the tribe, then the other poor buggers that missed getting any money from the deal kept helping them selves.

One Sunday an old Battered Model A FORD chugged up to the house, and these two from the Salvation Army get out and spend twenty minutes talking to Vera then asked Bob for a donation.

After they get their money THANKS VERY MUCH etc, etc they are gone. I asked Bob about the Model A I thought it was incredible that it was still cruising around out in the country with apparently no trouble. He has a bit of a chuckle and tells me that these GOOD CHRISTIANS have figured out long ago, if you turn C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

20

up in a flash car, the donations are not as good. As these good souls do not want to embarrass people because they only gave a shilling instead of a half crown they had an A frame made up and towed this old Model A to where the side roads left the main road behind a 1957 CHEVROLET BEL AIR and only drove the model A up the side roads.

THE OLD MAN only

gave me two bits of advice when I was growing up. lf you play with yourself you will go blind. You watch everyone with one eye but if you think somebody is a Bible Banger watch him with both eyes all the time!!

While I am talking about Model A’s the fencer Bob used had a truck he had made out of a Model A type car and one day we were heading home on our horses and Bob decides to ride down this track, down a bit of a gully and see how this guy is getting on with the fence. The truck is stationary and the fencer is under it obviously it has broken down. Bob asks him what’s wrong and does he want him to send Lorrie back to tow him out No he says, he had a bit of trouble getting out yesterday, but she can’t make it today she’s run out of compression so I have to give her a new set of rings. This fencer come mechanic had the sump off and the four pistons out while we were talking to him, and pulls an oily canvas pouch out from under the seat then puts his new piston rings on. He had made these rings out of that hard army 8 gauge steel wire.

l can already hear somebody saying if bull shit was gold Bob Simmonds would be a millionaire, nevertheless, it is true.

One other thing that happened while I was there, the Government of the day introduced P.A.Y.E. Pay As You Earn income tax, and one facet of this has pissed me off for 50 years. One morning we had assembled at the woolshed, as was normal and I always stood back a bit, as Wally and Lorrie got their orders. I usually ended up going with one or the other anyway, but BOB beckoned me over and said these words that I have never forgotten. He waved a piece of paper and said.

“Now listen, Robbie because this will affect you longer than the rest of us, the Tax Department has set up this new rule. Every shilling I pay you in your wages according to this rule, the government will take 1 penny for the doctor, 1 penny for this, 2 pennies to educate somebody else’s kids ,so on and so on”. They will also take 1 penny so they can pay you your pension when you are 60 years old. Now even then I could see that this was a bloody good idea, then when I was about 59, or there about the bastards put the pension age up to C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

21

65 years, and until I was 65 I let everyone know just how pissed off I was about waiting since 1956 or 57 then have those bureaucratic bastards shit on me. I have only recently, got over it, and forgiven the bastarDS. One of my workmates thought it was a huge joke and asked how the government was going to get it, was some official going to go around every payday, and ask for it. "No" says Bob, "I have to deduct it from your cheques add it all together and send it to them".

Instantly they understood, this was going to be a weekly pay cut, except for the couple of weeks pay it had previously taken when they paid their yearly income tax.

PAYE was and still is a GOD-SEND to the average worker, without it, IRD would have thousands in court each year trying to get what they consider their money. (I will not use this book to mention the other buggers and their exemptions and deductions that can be found in fiction or non-fiction. @ robbertee-bobs-books.co.nz)

lt is not until you get a bit older yourself that you

realize what older folk have really done and seen. ln the late fifties fertilizer was still being flown on with the little old Tiger Moths. The night Bob said to me that he would take me to Auckland when he went up with a load of lambs in the morning, I could hardly sleep. Next morning I, tore though my breakfast got the 200 lambs in and could hardly wait to be away, all decked out in my work / truck driving gear including my Hob Nail Ferntight Boots. We duly arrive at the Southdown Works at Auckland, unload the lambs, Bob hoses the crate out and parks the Commer up on a bit of a slope, goes into an office of some sort and comes out with a guy who is going to give us a bit of a COOK'S TOUR around part of the place. Young Robbie is thrilled to bits and did get a good look at the slaughter house, the skinning chains, the freezers, bloody near the whole place most of it from floor level.[have you ever tried walking around on wet concrete wearing Ferntight hob nail boots.] Well the cook's tour is over, the crate has dried out a bit so we are off on another little adventure, so around to some sort of fertilizer works.

Unlike the combination crates of today, there were two crates for stock the same as the rail wagons. Single deck for cattle and double deck for sheep the double deck crate was a permanent double deck; you had to crawl under the top deck to shut the sheep into the front pens and to help get them out, each pen on the bottom deck had a little door about 2½ feet long on the outside.

Thinking back to creosote, the truck was painted red, however the sheep crate inside and out was painted black with bloody creosote. (It must have stuck on the wool for years in the hot weather)

The bags of fertilizer were not in 1 cwt [112 lb] paper bags but in the same jute sacks that for many years have been use for everything. Chaff, oats etc, and a fellow’s work gear in chapter 11. These things weighed so much there was C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

22

no way that young Robbie would be expected to try and lift them, so I was under the top deck and as Bob and a work's guy lifted these bags up and through the little side doors I dragged and rolled them into some sort of position that the boss was happy with. Once the right number or right weight of bags was on board, we were back to Rangiuru, I do not remember how long the round trip took, but it must have been a good sort of day. Later when I was carting stock from Waharoa to the same meat works with about the same model truck it took around 9 hours there and back. Griffins' petrol 4 wheeler would have been a little faster, than Waharoa's diesel 4 wheeler pulling, a two axle trailer. When we got back, the manure stayed on the

Commer, and both were left in the truck shed to be unloaded in the morning, however when the morning arrived, I soon found out this was no five-minute job.

The crate would not fit under the roof of the loading bay at the woolshed, so the trailer had to be right up beside the truck, then these bags of fert rolled, and pulled out onto the trailer, then backed into the shed and unloaded.

The day before the topdressing plane was due the right number of bags are heaved back onto the trailer then before daylight next day, we would be off to the flattest paddock or piece of ground to use as the air strip, nearest to the gully or hillside that was to receive this bountiful gift (BIRD POO) from the sky.

Unbelievably back even then, this was going to be the closest I had ever been to an AEROPLANE. Then this little thing is in sight, bounces down, and stops almost beside us. The AIR CREW jumps out and he, Lorrie, and I get a sack up and somehow it is tipped in without being dropped on GERTIE. The pilot tells us it will just about go through the wood and canvas frame and wreck his FLYING MACHINE. Anyway, off he went one 332 lbs sack at a time, you can see in the pictures below the fertilizer, hopper was in the front seat, it would have something to do with weight distribution, you would think a fair amount would have been sucked back on to him.

In about 1958 Lorrie was a bit too old to be lifting those bags and I was a bit too young, now I am about 20 yrs older than he was then, and those BLOODY sacks still look as BIG and as HEAVY. It was not long before they had a loader rigged up on a truck. The hopper was filled from sacks by hand, but it could be done while the plane was away. Soon bulk fert was tipped into manure bins, the hoppers were modified, scales fitted and filled with the truck.

l have only been up in the odd chopper to show the pilot where to spray weeds, never a fixed wing aircraft of any size.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

23

I read somewhere that between 1949 and 1956 one of those old girls spread 20 odd thousand tons of fertilizer and grass seed in 6.000 hours flying time.

If you think that is hard to believe do as I did, DO THE SUMS.

l still don't like getting up any higher than l can safely jump down from, or in water deeper than what l can stand up in.

(Daphne reckons that is BULL SHIT, as the bath water is only deep enough to sit in. I do not like getting in the BATH either.)

Time marched on and before I knew it, I was into the next wage bracket and it was time to move on. I went there with a pair of Woolworth’s (Woolworth's was like the Warehouse today) gumboots, Mums old plastic raincoat, five shillings, and my old school clothes. I left with a 1938 FORD 8 car, a new stock saddle and other horse gear. Four dogs including a heading dog bitch Jip that Bob gave me. Proper hobnail boots, Ferntights, the only brand of boots I wore for years £5. a pair wet weather gear, plenty of clothes and two real country man’s felt hats, one for work one for town, cooking gear and everything I needed to go out into the wider world. Lorrie helped me get a job on Ruku Block Lands and Survey at Hamilton, through his mate at Tauranga and with the back seat out the dogs, all my gear, and me in the little Ford, and we set sail for Hamilton.

(Most boots have a seam on the inside instep where fern stalks eventually pushed through but ferntights were made without that seam hence the name ) C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

24

Bob gave me this on the day l left and l have always thought it better than any bloody school report.

LEFT: 1939 Ford RIGHT: 1951 Ford

Goodbye Griffins & Son, hello Ruku Block C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

25

PS. A little bit about IRD and taxation: Most of us moan about how much tax we pay, or have paid and what we get back.

Many people do go right though life with apart from their super, ask no more from the state. However, you just do not know when you might need something that you could never pay for. AS A EXAMPLE. My heart valve operation, which happened after I had stopped paying a reasonable part of my income to IRD. What we forget or do not want to think about is that when we pay tax it is in that day’s money, with that times value.

However my operation had to be paid for at 2006 valves which makes the tax I paid years ago even with interest added on, no where enough to cover to days bill. At the moment I may be on the wrong side of the ledger as far as ACC goes, but I am certainly on the winnings side as far as what I have paid in tax and what I have had back. There are plenty who have paid a lot more than me, and had less back. And there are plenty who have contributed nothing via PAYE or ACC levies and have had many times more than me back.

I AM HAPPY WITH PAYING INCOME TAX. I AM ALSO HAPPY TO LET ACC WIN BECAUSE I CAN DO WITHOUT THE PAIN ASSOCIATED WITH MOST ACC CLAIMS. Here is a bit about weed spraying and getting completely wet with the stuff.

Lorrie was not all that brave at going down hills as he had in the past had a couple of fast rides down gullies. He persuades Bob to get a couple of ripper things from a bit of old gear welded underneath the carryall tray. The idea was if the Nuffield thought she was a Pommie kamikaze pilot and ever took-off again all he had to do was drop the tray, the tines would dig in and we would stop. (Never mind that by this time, we would be that far down and it would be so steep we could not back up) The day came and we were careering down a hill and getting close to a huge old pine. Lorrie must have thought it was getting a bit too close so drops the tray. It worked fine and we stopped, however there was always a fair amount of spray on top of the drums which now ended up all over the old fellow, but worse was to come, the tine had gone under a big old root from this tree and we could not lift the tray at all.

Christ Bob was not amused, it became a two tractor, 4 men ( 3 men & 1 boy) and day and a half job to get the bloody thing unhooked and back up the hill The last thing to worry about then was a bit of spray on Lorrie. CHRIST CAN you imagine it today. OSH would be there, the civil defence would declare a state of emergency, the fire service would be there hosing the hormone further down the gully to make bloody sure it gave as many buggers as possible a chance to get on the band wagon and hopefully get a another cocky into court.

(AS SOON AS ONE WHEEL STARTED GOING BACKWARD YOUNG ROBBIE JUMPED OFF AND LEFT THE MAN WITH ALL THE EXPERIENCE TO LOOK AFTER THE SHIP) C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

26

Chapter 10

RUKU BLOCK

2079 words

In those days it was not unusual to jack up a job over the phone however while the boss could usually find out what he was getting, the worker did not really know the full story until he got there. All government jobs are different from the private sector. Lands and Survey and Maori Affairs farms were either fully staffed or way understaffed, it took me years to understand that the fully staffed blocks were managed by competent managers while the understaffed blocks were kept understaffed by the existing staff. The managers of these blocks looked after the couple left because they thought if they went, they were sunk. In fact those few people made sure nobody else stayed because while the block was short staffed they only did essential work. They tended to start early daylight and knock off around 2 o’clock. Management would have to get contractors in for everything, fence repairs, mustering dagging, crutching all the jobs that a fully staffed block would do on its own. Ruku’s manager was the former type; Ron Roberson seemed to keep staff. There was a married senior shepherd, who had been a jockey, he had been there for some time but finally gave shepherding away and moved into town to become a porter in the Hamilton Hospital.

Like countless others, I cannot remember his name something Franks, and as he was a little fellow and his wife was a big woman, whenever I try to remember their name

Jack Sprat could eat no fat & his wife could eat no lean so between the two of them they licked the platter clean. this always comes to mind,

The general hand was an alcoholic who spent more time drunk in his 8x10 hut than at work. One day when they could not get him out to fix a fence or something they caught his big tomcat, stuck a rubber ring on his privates, opened the hut door and threw the cat in.

This old guy comes screaming out shouting about being attacked by a huge cat.

Within an hour, he was out fixing the fence, about a week later he asks the boss if he has seen his cat lately because he reckons he had not seen it for a week, nothing about seeing a big black white headed cat in his hut a week ago.

It was while I was at Ruku, one Saturday as we were knocking off at dinnertime all survey SHEPHERDS, were sacked as shepherds, and reinstated on Monday morning as SHEPHERD GENERALS. Previously when a shepherd was told to do a general job a lot of them would say my dogs can’t drive a tractor or use a hammer. Most of us were pleased to be a shepherd general and be able to get out and do other work around the block. Ruku was nearly all on a peat swamp and I started just before lambing. The manager caught me skinning a dead ewe one day and said, "You are doing a lambing beat you don’t have time to skin dead sheep". Just tie this bit of twine around a leg, drag it over to a drain, C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

27

push it under the surface, and tie the twine to a fence. The paddocks were small with a drain and fence around each one so I think this is cool, no skinning dead sheep. After lambing and docking, what started as the three of us, soon became the two of us as we went around all the drains pulling out and skinning all these

(Ron had more important things to be doing like answering the phone) dead sheep, no smell, no rot, preserved in the peat.

The block had an old international TD6 crawler with 100x100mm timber about a metre long bolted on each grouser plate right around the tracks. It spread the weight and kept it on top of the peat. If it was left running stationary for a while water would seep up through the grass and the tractor would look like it had sunk but it never went through. If it did it would be gone as in some places the peat was ten metres deep.

The MOW (Ministry of Works) had a big old dragline go through into the peat one weekend and they sank thousands of posts under it and spent How would you like to days at it but they got her out. arrive at work on Monday Fencing was good and bad news; the good morning and be told “THAT news was they did not dig holes but the bad news is down there somewhere, was they spent a lot of time ramming posts around start digging it out ?” the strainers so they could strain up the wires and swing gates, but they still put up good sheep proof fences. To put in a strainer one guy would hold it upright the other would be up on his back then onto the strainer and hop up and down a few times and it was in. The ordinary posts were simply belted in with a mallet.

They did not run many cattle because they had too much trouble with them going through into the peat and had to get them off before the winter. One time they had bulls grazing for the Bull Research station at Newstead and these bulls started digging holes like bulls do, eventually one went through into the peat and they lost it. When I say lost, it did not disappear/ vanished but drowned in the mud and water.

Before I headed over to RUKU to look after myself, MUM had given me a heap of instructions on how to cook this or that. One was about cooking a mutton roast for tea. After I had been there about a week I got my ¼ of mutton so next day at dinner time I get out Mums instructions and start thinking about cooking my tea, open up the instruction sheet and YES this looks easy even an idiot could bloody cook this, OK lets get started.! [a] When you get home at

lunchtime, turn the oven on top and bottom to high. [b] C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

28

Eat your dinner and prepare the roast, put it in the roasting dish with plenty of mutton fat, and salt, then put in a couple of spuds and put the lid on. [c]turn oven top off and bottom to low. Put in the roasting dish. [d] Go back to work and when you get home at 5.30 pm your roast will be cooked and looking good. [e] Prepare and cook the vegetables, take out the meat AND MAKE SURE YOU TURN THE OVEN OFF.

All afternoon I am getting hungrier by the hour and at 5.30 pm when ROBBIE gets back from work the fire truck is going out the gate, the head shepherd’s wife is opening windows and wiping and cleaning a black sooty looking thing where the electric range had been when I went to work. She takes me outside and she shows me my tea GOD even the dogs would not eat it, I had followed Mums instructions to the letter except the bit about turning the oven top off and the bottom to low. Old Ron took it in his stride and there was no reprimand but a lesson well learnt.

I didn't stay there long, you could not ride a horse on the peat and had to walk everywhere. My feet were always wet and the dogs’ feet were always sore, but while there, I sold the little FORD and brought a big FORD. Dad had to come over and guarantee the payments because the salesman did not think I would be able to pay it off and buy petrol for a V8. Petrol was about one shilling [what became ten cents ]a gallon. About two months later, we headed off to Kawerau.

I have always felt a bit offended about that sales joker grilling me over the petrol and the payments. WHAT a CHEEK Here's me working for the New Zealand Government getting about £7 a week being interrogated by a bloody 2nd hand car salesman.

1936 FORD IN 1938 OUT The wealthy bought tyres with white sidewalls moulded into them. The poor brought paint and painted them on. The fellow that had my car before me must have been in the middle because you could buy inserts that went under the edge of the rim and held in place when the tyres were inflated, and that is what was on mine. However, at about 50 to 60 MPH when you turned the wheel slightly one way or the other the air that had been rushing over the tyre suddenly whipped under one or the other front ones and the bang was quite terrific. The first few times I thought it was a blow out and it took quite awhile to figure it out.

However, they were too FLASH to take off so I put up with the bang, but for a C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

29

few seconds after each one, I always wondered if this was the time I was going to go into the ditch.

Around this time there was a heap of animal welfare laws passed driven from memory, but I may be wrong, by a woman by the name of MABEL HOWARD and it was very well debated amongst us at the time. It became illegal to threaten a dog with a stick or such let alone actually hit it.

However after fifty years the brainless bureaucratic bastards have finally come to understand that it is no bloody good just waving a stick at a dog, so now you can discipline your dog in a prescribed manner with a bloody rolled up newspaper. All this crap about giving a dog a hiding when we still have kids beaten to death regularly, what a fucking marvellous country this is.

The Field Officer was a smallish barrel- chested man of about 59 years who had been red headed but now was bald, however with his red complexion when he got wild he was a fearsome sight. He is down Victoria Street in Hamilton and parks up the VANGUARD UTE and gets out, his dogs jump off and start to follow him up the street. He grabs his supplejack stick and as he lays into these dogs, this old tart comes up to him and threatens him with the law because she’s read the paper and hitting his dogs is now illegal so she has a mind to call the police. He waves the stick at her and shouts that if she does not bugger off she will get a clip of it around her arse. It was all on then, somebody else did call the police, somebody calls the Lands and Survey however, it was all hushed up in the end, but we all got a lecture on how to behave in public, as that sort of thing it was not a good look for the Department of Lands and Survey at all.

YES, it is still me sitting on the International TD6 crawler alright & the date of manufacture for both of us is still the same. However, this TD6 is mine and 43 years later, we are poking a road up a hill to what Raewyn thought would be her new house site at Reporoa.

Mum brought Ken over one time to stay for a few days while we were docking. We must have finished a paddock and were heading to another to set up the next pen with all these hurdles (like gates) we tied them together to make temporary yards rolls of netting scrim, and bundles of standards. This gear is all loaded up on a trailer hooked up to the old INTERNATIONAL crawler with the hard wood 4x2 bolted around the tracks now this is October / November and the peat is DRY and HARD and this thing is shaking like you would not believe. I was to drive to the next paddock so RON says to KEN "You hop up on the trailer young fellow and keep an eye on the gear, if it looks like some of it might fall off yell out and tell your brother to stop". I am sitting up the front pulling and C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

30

pushing levers changing gears really being the BIG time crawler driver, going flat out. I do not look back; thinking no yelling from Ken, so there is no problems back there. When the others went ahead to muster the next paddock they left the gates open for us so there was no need to stop just FULL THROTTLE straight ahead. We arrive at the designated place old Ron points at the trailer. First thing, l see is this whitish looking kid hanging on to the front board of the trailer. He looked like he was still being shaken as the effects of shaking with fear and being shaken up are different; with fear when the fearsome reason is taken away you usually stop shaking but when you have been shaken up for twenty minutes it takes a while for your shaking to subside. There was gear all over the place; the poor young bugger was too busy hanging on to turn around to see how the gear was getting on. BIG JOKE for the other two, although KEN did not think it was too funny; and I thought he had made a MONKEY'S Uncle out of me so that night he is ringing up MUM. While we were still on Ruku Block the head shepherd, put his heading dog over old Jip and she produced this litter of three pups. As the dogs' owner, he took his pick and the white-headed one went down to Johns Road at Tariki to Mick Huffeths a neighbour when Dad had the farm on Johns Road. I took it down one weekend when I went down to see Nan and Dah, my first decent trip in the V8. I keep the other one called him Glen, and took him to Edgecumbe Block with the rest of us, where a woman ran him over and killed him.

Just after I arrived there, Ron got a new Ferguson to replace the old petrol International; those old things had the two front wheels so close together they looked like a trike. According to legend, apparently one day Ron is tearing across what he thought was a firm paddock when suddenly the front wheels are through and she takes a nosedive through into the peat, straight down until only the seat and back wheels were out. Now because there is only the starter motor on the TD6 crawler that needs petrol, Ruku's petrol ration is CUT TO HELL as Ron tells us and as he had never completely gotten over his fright when the trike took a header into the peat he was scared to take the new Ferguson out on it. So he is still using the old international which he will have until the next auction, but the big problem is this bloody petrol. He is not paying for it himself; then somebody tells him if you got a petrol motor hot enough it would run on diesel. These old girls had two fuel tanks because they were made to start on petrol, then as the TD6 was turned over onto diesel the Farmall McCormick was switched to Kerosene and yes, if he got her hot enough it did sort of run on diesel. just like somebody had told him it would.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

31

By the time I got to Edgecumbe, I had about six dogs and a couple of pups, they and all the gear went into the boot of the FORD V8 no trouble. It had a boot like the deck on a single cab Toyota Ute. I think it cost about ÂŁ280. Twelve pennies made a shilling twenty shillings made a pound and I got about ÂŁ100 for the little FORD 8 and paid the rest off. I have always remembered the guy when he asked if I had the back seat and shaking is head when I told him it was a down gulley at Griffins farm at Te Puke. The eight in FORD 8 equal's eight-horse power I think those OLD v8s were about 27 horse power, 9o odd brake horsepower. In just a few years, ten shillings became one New Zealand dollar.

Ruku from memory was around 1000 acres, which apart from a strip where the buildings were and a small knob at the southern end the whole thing was in the wetter months a swamp. Then the few cattle there was, had to share that small hill with about 50 % of the Waikato rabbits while what must have been 45% of the remaining lived around the buildings.

Don't believe the compass if you are going to sea.

SYMBOLS USED Shepherd / Generals abodes .

Farm Managers abode.

l was over there a while ago and it looks almost like Edgecumbe and, Tuhingamata Block and probably much more country developed at the taxpayer's expense for the benefit of the country, what a fuckinjoke. Now mostly split up into lifestyle blocks where the elite of Hamilton can supposedly lawfully spend their taxable income depriving lnland Revenue of it, thereby cutting their taxable income down that low they can apply for welfare.

Goodbye Ruku Block, hello Edgecumbe Block.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

32

Chapter 11

EDGECUMBE BLOCK

6400 words

When the dogs and I arrived at Edgecumbe after a weeks stay at home, what a difference there was. While Ruku was peat swamp, fallout from the Mount Tarawera eruption had covered Edgecumbe in about a metre of ash and cinders, consequently the dogs’ feet were raw by dinnertime on the first day. The old hands bathed their dogs’ feet in kerosene until they hardened up. Once that happened, they were good. Again like at Ruku I had to live in the shearers' quarters and move everything into one room when the shearers were there, but I ate their tucker so that was a bit of a bonus.

The salesman who sold me the car in Hamilton had known what he was talking about; I never had enough money. You might think living on a big sheep farm with about 8000 sheep at least you would have plenty of meat. However, no, one quarter a week and they made you sign for it. After two or three days and with no fridge or freezer there was no more meat for a week. I lived on pumpkins for months, they grew everywhere, and nobody seemed to claim ownership of them, George Milne the head shepherd was about 50 and lived like a KING he had a fridge and was an old hand at looking after himself. He had cold mutton and tomatoes every day for lunch, and a bottle of cold beer every night when he got home. He was always home first five and a half days a week; but on Wednesday when we had to kill the muttons and dog tucker, he was always late.

First home had to do the killing, and he always made sure I was home first by giving me the smallest job for the day. As Kawerau, has been built entirely on Edgecumbe Block, we were continuously moving fences back to the bottom of the hills leaving the flats to build more houses on. Being on the verge of a biggish town, we had a lot of trouble with dogs worrying the stock. One day I was mustering behind the town and I heard somebody yelling out, over here, get over here! Old FRANK TOCKER the manager was up a tree with two German Shepherds prowling around under it like lions, but as soon as they saw me, they were off. Frank had tried to catch them but somehow they got between him and his truck then they did not look as friendly, so up the tree goes Frank. The dogs had started to wander off a couple of times and the BOSS would nearly get down then they would spot him, and come tearing back. The old boy had been up and down that tree like a pole dancer. Once reinforcements arrived, the dogs were off, Frank comes down that tree like a monkey and went straight down to the police station.

Picked up the sergeant and around to where he knew the dogs had come from.

The cop shot them both on this Dutchman’s back door steps. Can you imagine a cop doing that today? They took the Dutchman and his dogs to the nearest paddock and stood there until he had buried them. I thought the whole thing was overkill but years later I found out how serious a problem worrying dogs were.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

33

1936 FORD V8 COUPE

YOUNG KIRK

When I arrived at my next job, some of the dogs piled out and the manager

says," still

I thought you said you had a bitch"? When I told him she was in the boot, he says to me. "Shit! when l go anywhere, my

old bitch always sits on the front seat". [BILL O' BRAIN]

I often wondered how Frank knew where those dogs had come from but apparently, they were show dogs and had cleaned up in a big way at some dog show in Auckland. Frank had seen them in the paper that is why he did not shoot but tried to catch them, but after being up the tree for a while all good intentions went out the window and he decided next time they were loose they would be back chewing up sheep and he did not want to meet them again. That is why he got the police to shoot them; knowing about the dogs, he might have thought there could have been trouble if he had done it.

One day Frank turns up with a dog on the back of his Bedford, and tells the truck driver, a guy who was always telling us what a big- time hunter he was, and how he could hit anything, anytime, anywhere. Frank tells him to shoot this dog and gives him the farms old .303, this guy says no thanks, he will use his own rifle. I get the dog off the truck Frank buggers off and I tell my mate that I will tie the dog to the fence to make sure it’s a one shot job; this dog did not look like a worrier to me. No, he says I am not a bloody murderer I will give him a sporting chance. I let the rope go and boot the dog’s bum and off he goes. By the time the dog killer, come sportsman, come big time hunter, gets the cover off the scope, a bullet into the breech and takes aim, polishes the scope, takes aim again the dog is out the gate and heading down the road. About half an hour later a car came up and this fella says, "I just ran over a dog and it looks like a sheep dog, have you people lost a dog"? My co-worker looks in the boot of this townies car and nearly cries. "God" he said "That dog was not lost I sent him down the road to do a job". The good citizen asks what is it worth, the dog’s new owner says that the dog had been down the road with some stock and was on his way back. By this, time the guy is rolling his eyes. My mate then says "After all! the law does state that motorists must give way to a drover, his dogs, and stock". By now, this guy is really rolling his eyes and looking a bit worried then says would £20 cover it? We ended up with ten quid each and the guy took the dog away to bury it.

That just shows it does not always pay to follow the

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

34

bosses orders to the letter. Frank was under the illusion that he had obedient workers, but what he didn't know would not hurt him.

One day Frank sacks the fencer / general hand who with his family was living in a house up the road past his office, and consequently, Adam is given a week to get out of the house. Adam Alexis digs his toes in, goes down town and gets a job as barman in the pub. Every morning for the 3 months, it took to get him and his family out of his house Adam rode though this bit of a compound past Frank’s office window on his bike on the way to work and doffed his hat to him. Nearly drove Mr. Tocker nuts.

Adam had a little old Austin 7 and when ever he needed work done on it he would pay the mechanic with meat.

While working at the pub after his employment with the L&S had terminated but before he moved out, the Austin needed a new WOF. George was scared to give him good meat but did give him some meat off a TB cow we had killed for the dogs. Adam cut it up and told the guy to stew it. When he packed up and moved on, he went to Waiotapu Block, a block I ended up managing years later "What have you there DEAR?" "Some stewing steak". �It looks lovely, have you fixed the car for that nice man, from the survey farm again DEAR?" "Yes Dear".

you never know what you are bloody eating mate.

The picture theatre (tin shed) was down the other end of the town just before the bridge by the mill and the boss had told me, that after finishing on Saturday mornings if I was down that end of the Bock I could go to the matinee.

However, do not tie your horse and dogs up on the fence opposite the theatre because a while ago one of the shepherds had his saddle stolen. Now this meant half a mile walk from some trees on the other side of the paddock and I think blow that, ride home, get in the car, and drive down. I came out and some bugger had broken a window and tried to steal my car, as a V8 coupe was a prime target for thieves in those days, much as a Toyota Hilux is today. But what pissed me off the most was my saddle was being repaired at the time and I was using a Survey saddle. I would rather have lost a government saddle than my car.

Edgecumbe had and still has native bush around the northern and western sides. The bush went right over to Rotoma and up to Tarawera and was full of red deer. There was one particular paddock so placed that the deer were always in it. There had been so many shot there over the years, now it was even on the C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

35

farm and office maps as Savages’ Kitchen.

l went back to Edgecumbe

thirteen years later and there were just as many deer in that area as there had been in the sixties.

The manager drove around in an old 15 cwt K BEDFORD high narrow things, and the story goes like this; Old Frank is driving around the side of a hill and decides that it is getting a bit steep and decides to abandon ship. He cannot push the right hand door up and climb up, so to get out he slips over to the left side, flicks open the door and slides out. Then suddenly the truck looks like it going to fall on him, so he’s standing there holding up a truck that weighs something like two tons yelling for help. While the truck was moving his half dozen dogs were all hanging onto the top side of the deck, but once Frank is out the dogs abandon ship as well, that is when the truck’s centre of gravity changed and his troubles started. Luckily, he is on the town side of the block with houses up to the base of the hill so he soon had help, but it was the main topic of conversation for a long time. Frank had to go through town to get to his house and quite often, during his farm travels would get stuck in the soft ash. Usually he would almost deflate the back tyres and nearly always got out using this trick, then if time allowed he would call in at a garage in town and re-inflate them. On the other hand if he was late for lunch or his boss was coming out he would go straight home, by the time he got back to the garage the tyres were half knackered, it was said that truck used as many tyres & tubes as gallons of petrol.

I had to bring old TOMMY over from RUKU because after a couple of failed attempts to sell him I did not have the heart to shoot the old boy; he always tried to do his bit, so we were stuck with each other. He could hardly walk in a straight line and when we were at Ruku l gave a couple of cow cockies a trial run with him in the killer paddock around a few sheep. But when they reckoned he would not even make a cow dog, the Head Shepherd told me to get a couple of packets of glucose, mix it up with a quart of milk and give it to him about twenty minutes before the next DOG BUYER arrived. Well I follow directions to the letter the BUYER arrives; the DOG is that full of milk the BUGGER can hardly stand. The guy is pissed off for having wasted his time; I am out of pocket and the BLOODY dog sleeps for two hours, wakes up, and starts tearing around like a PUP chasing the fencer’s neutered cat. BELOW; Old Tommy (front) with a friend, the Edgecumbe woolshed is in the background, at that time. I would never have thought that in 13 years I would be back and standing on that landing with the big stick.

Old George and the general hand did

not hit it off, it would be fair to say these two hated each other not merely disliked each other.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

36

One day we were working in the sheep yards only about one hundred yards from George’s batch but out of sight and the general hand turns up. I think his name was Jim 'something' and says to George "I need the keys to your car so I can shift it". Now George had a brand new HILLMAN 80 and just laughs and told him to bugger off thinking that Jim is trying to wind him up. The general hand does not say a word, just turns around and does as George had told him, which he had known he would and buggered off. At that time the shearers quarters was on the yard side of a macrocarpa hedge you cannot see through, but sure as hell you can hear though it. I go inside to find something for dinner, and my old MATE walks though a gate at the end of the trees on his way to this COLD mutton and TOMATO lunch, so when I hear this swearing and yelling and bloody near crying. I am not in too much of a hurry to see what the problem is as I am a bit envious of what this old bugger is eating for dinner, but when I get around there what a MESS. His car shed was just a roof tacked onto the side of a shed made out of second hand iron with plenty of nail holes in it and as one of his jobs for the day, Jim was to paint the roof, and he made sure that plenty went though the old nail holes. The HILLMAN had a couple of days down town being put back like new, NOW THE GLOVES ARE REALLY OFF. There is an old hut not far from George’s batch. It is on the other side of this macrocarpa hedge. At that time empty beer bottles, were worth a penny or so each, and with twelve pennies to a shilling and twenty shillings to a pound, they were worth picking up. Jim had been saving bottles since adam was a

(This is the Adam from Adam & Eve not Adam the fencer.) and had quite a heap in this shed. A day or so later cowboy

George has his hillman back and the bill, so he bails up his old mate up and demands that he pays for the damage, only to be told there’s no money. So the victim in all this tells him to sell his BLOODY bottles, "That is not going to happen, mate.” Then exactly as Jim had done, George just walks away.

The next Sunday afternoon George’s dogs start barking, he’s yelling and banging on the outside wall of this shed with what sounds like a sheet of iron or some such thing which is followed by the sound of glass breaking; not just a window but plenty of glass getting smashed like a big heap of bottles getting knocked over. I am off around there for the second time in a week and as soon as GEORGE has a witness for the soon to be accused, he gets the door open and out staggers these three old rams. He puts on a big act about how devastated his mate TOMMY will be and how it is a big mystery as to how these rams got in there.

Neither FRANK nor TOM believed GEORGE or ME the witness. However, Frank needed them both in a harmonious relationship for the smooth running of the block, and sorted it out.. They may have shaken hands but the FEUD continued.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

37

The reason that I found myself living in the shearer’s quarters again was that the shepherd I was to replace, had ended up in hospital for some reason after I was hired, but before I got there, and so Mrs. Hood and family were still in the house. It turned into a public relations disaster for the Department because the husband got worse or died, I am not sure now. Nevertheless, they could not just evict her from the house and they were still in it when I was shipped out, Frank had got me the job on Tuhingamata because it was not really on to have permanent staff living in the shearer’s quarters and he had been told to sort it out.

Then because he could not evict Mrs Hood and her kids; young Bob is on his way to Tuhingamata, this has nothing to do with work or my ability to do it.

Just political correctness, something that some clever prick has thought he just thought up in 2000 or thereabouts.

Anyhow, I get a good dose of the flue and Mrs. Hood sends one of her kids down with a bowl of soup or stew. When the girl got home, she must have told her mother how I was really crook, because next thing I know she is there, and I am bundled into her car and back up the airstrip to the house and into a proper bed with lemon drinks the works. I have never forgotten that act of thoughtfulness and kindness from a stranger who certainly had enough troubles of her own at that time; thank you mrs. Hood Two things about the previous paragraph [1] Airstrip; The block airstrip ran from where the sheep yards were right up to where the Kawerau cemetery was and still is on the other side of the road. Hoods house (later ours) was about half way down on the right. The wing tips on the planes were only about fifty yards from the kitchen window. [2] The house; A similar situation happens again in 1973 when we moved onto the block again.

One night not long after I had started there at about 9.30 pm no TV to watch then I am in bed asleep when bang crash the door flies open lights go on and there is a cop sitting on me. Then I hear another voice in the other room yelling, "It’s him we have got the bastard”... .Well they drag me out of bed tell me to get my pants on and we are off down town. What the other dim wit was doing when he dragged my saddle in and dumped it on the floor I had no idea.

Then QUESTION. "Where did you get this saddle"? ANSWER, "Dalgetys at Te Puke". QUESTION. "When"? ANSWER "1958" now I can see that things were not going the way that they thought they should be. At about 11.00 pm they decided to listen to me and then tell me that a day or two ago a shepherd on a block not far from Ruku Block had a saddle stolen. While I was still on Ruku block a couple of shepherds had turned up to get a few steers, and one of them had a western saddle and as there were not many around at that time, I had a real good look at it. Apparently must have said I would love to have it, or one like it or some such words, shit oh dear that was enough for the C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

38

Hamilton cops. Then because these two GOONS at Kawerau did not know the difference between an Australian stock saddle and a Western saddle, I was, according to them already on my way to Mount Eden. Well because I said I had the receipt from Dalgetys with the date on it, which was not the other day, STARSKY, and HUTCH, the TV detectives were not too sure about having solved this great crime. By now its 11.30 pm, MR. Tocker gets a phone call. Now in those days of big powerful Government departments Civil Servants had a bit more standing and respect than today. So it is all MR. Tocker Sir could you come down and identify a saddle that your shepherd has in his possession.

Frank comes down sorts it out and takes me back to the cookhouse, when we had left they had not turned the lights off, shut the door or the gate, and for some reason that seemed to piss Frank off more than having to get out of bed. About three days later one of the cops came up and half pie apologized for the misunderstanding. Frank had complained about the way they had roughed me up and left the Government shearers’ quarters open, to the Office. Then in the scheme of things, the Superintendent Of Lands & Survey probably played GOLF with the Chief Constable and the reprimand came back down to the constable in charge.

About a fortnight after the car window episode, a cop is on my doorstep again, but this time this joker knocked. He was telling me the reason it had taken so long to do something about my car window was that there had been for some time a 50- something year old ex - con by the name of BOB SIMMONDS living in Kawerau. When the detective saw the name on the complaint form, he decided that MR SIMMONDS had most likely flogged it anyway and if he waited until the rightful owner reported it stolen, he could nick him for that. It was not until one of the constables who had been on the nearly DAWN RAID heard about it and realized that the age was wrong, then remembered he had seen this particular car up here on that night. The whole thing had been a mistake and he was here to put it right. (Although no bugger ever paid to fix the window) The whole time I was there that Adam was in gainful employment as the general hand, the only bit of conventional clothing I ever saw him wearing was socks, boots, and a hat the hat type depended on the weather the rest of his kit comprised of a chaff sack. He would cut the two corners off the bottom edge cut a vee from the bottom down on the front put a short slit up each side from the other end and wear that all day every day. He had heaps of them you would see them hanging out on the clothes line when his missus did the washing. When he left, he gave Frank his chaff sacks back.

There was just as much speculation about Adam and his underwear as there was about a Scotsman and his kilt. But I do know every now and than he would stop work and squat on his haunches and never pull anything down or up but a hand full of C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

39

grass would sometimes be seen going under the bottom of the sack. When he started working at the hotel, he dressed in the conventional manner. At the end of each month when Frank did his monthly returns, he would have got how many stock deaths and kills there had been off old George and deducted them off the previous month’s end figures. The same for the consumable stores, later when I did it if I had two boxes of staples, one full and one over half full, I called it two; if one was under half full I only had one box and wrote up the paperwork accordingly. Now old Frank was the sort of NIT PICKING bugger that would just about tip the box out and count each staple. Here is where Adam started to get a bit pissed off with Frank, because at the end of the month Frank would pick him up and they would drive all over the block and inspect every job that had been done that month. Now that would annoy most of us but what made this worse was that Frank would count each batten, count the posts, strainers, stays and angles, then he would get out the tape and they would measure the length of the fence and make a note on the numbers of wires. Adam always reckoned he was amazed that the strainers and foot posts, were never dug out and the footing material measured and checked to see what it had been made from. On inspecting one job, Frank decided that a couple of battens were not straight enough. When Adam told him while the battens may not have been vertical, they were at right angles to the wire, which is how they should be. (Dan Wilkinson taught me that at Norfolk Road Primary School in Chapter 05). A heated row is soon under way and for some reason Frank says something about a spirit level. Suddenly, that is enough for the other combatant, he winds the argument down, and they are off to the next job. After you have been in and out of the truck countless times, opening and shutting the gates you start to get a bit brassed off with it and the driver seems to be stopping further from both sides of the gate. After shutting a countless gates, Adam spies a couple of dead rabbits. The rabbit board was always shooting and gassing rabbits, so he puts these things on the back of the truck and after a few more gates has himself primed up for another go at Frank.

How these four guys ever worked together just amazed me. The fact that George and Thomas did not like each other has previously been established. But these two Frank and Adam [AA} had exactly the same sort of relationship After catching the truck, he yanks the door open huffing and puffing as if he has run all the way from the last gate and fires these two rabbits at Frank.

When the old boy wants to know what his problem is, Adam tells him that he has been driving that far through the gates before stopping, that he had to run so fast to catch the bloody truck he had tripped over and killed these rabbits stone dead.

Now that he has them, he cannot take them home because his fridge is broken and they have plenty of meat. Therefore, Frank may as well take them home and get his missus to cook them for their tea. Frank starts to say something in his defence then realizes that this wearer of his CHAFF SACKS is not actually getting into the truck but is coming straight over the seats at him. Frank's out the right C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

40

hand door and around the back and in the left door with the chaff sack wearer behind him, after about six laps Frank has enough lead and Adam is too knackered to carry on and is leaning on the truck getting a bit of air into his lungs. Frank drops the clutch and is away to the next gate. Adam (and Franks chaff sack) is left sitting on the ground under a shower of scoria and dust. By the time the two of them catch up Frank has recovered too much for Adam to have another go at him and the chaff sack can’t do much on its own, so the job of counting battens etc starts again. Well by the end of the next month, Adam has had 30 days stapling battens on vertical with a spirit level up hill and down, what a mess, so she is all on again.

When Frank first hired me, I was supposed to have been the truck driver, but when I got there, he had the trouble with Mrs. Hood, thus making him a shepherd down. Therefore, when he saw my dogs he changed his tune and claimed he had hired me as a shepherd, however he had said he wanted a truck driver as well. Over the years, I have sometimes wondered why I stayed at Mum and Dads at Belk road for a couple of weeks after leaving Ruku and before starting there. Now it is obvious the bugger thought he would have the house problem sorted in two weeks, as that was the standard notice length then. After the new driver did arrive, I soon found out what the story was. I do not know if Frank could read and write or not, but he did not do any book keeping, just put it all in a box and took it to the Office in Rotorua each month. They soon got sick of that, and told him as it was part of his job he had to do it. Frank did not really need a truck driver, he needed a clerk, and the guy that he got had been a dispatcher in a timber yard in Auckland. Frank just took all the numbers back to his office and the clerk worked it out and did the paper work. The size of the block entitled it to four staff and how the manager set it up was down to him.

Once I got there Frank decided that while I could drive the truck I was no more an academic than he was, so the office job was a no starter.

Over the years there had been that many worrying dogs shot on the block some of the locals, bush and mill workers, were not very friendly to us farm workers. Consequently I was never brave enough to go into the pub; not that that worried me much but Coca Cola became my drink of choice not Waikato, which seems to be the favourite drink of most of these bush types. Well I bought that much coca cola at the dairy the buggers started calling me the coca cola kid so I took take my business down to the fish shop.

There was not a pine tree to be seen over the Tarawera River so myself and another young fellow whose Dad worked at the mill would get our horses over the Tarawera River. This could be tricky as it was quite swift, had deep holes and smooth round stones, which were hard for the horses to walk on. It was better to try a deeper place where they had to swim a bit. We spent many days riding around over there around Mount Edgecumbe and up towards Lake Tarawera.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

41

Now it is all under the Tarawera forest but if the current trend continues, soon to be under dairy cows. Next thing I know they are short of shepherds on Tuhingamata block at Taupo and I am on my way over there for an interview with Sid Brien. Frank tells me to get my knife sharpened by somebody who knows what he is doing, because Sid judged a shepherd on how sharp his knife is, not how many or how good his dogs were. My knife was always blunt, not because I could not sharpen a knife but because I would use it to cut anything, hit it with a rock to cut bone or a bit of wire. The whole time this guy was talking to me, we were sitting at his kitchen table. He was a big man and his bare feet were almost sticking out my side of the table and man I could not take my eyes off his bloody toenails; they were about two inches long and I started wondering if this sharp knife business had something to do with cutting his toenails. The whole time I was there I never saw him wearing boots.

Anyway, I get the job and go back, pack up the gear and say goodbye to Edgecumbe and good riddance to George Milne, pile the dogs and my gear into the FORD and we are away. Those old FORDS had about a four inch tube bolted on to the differential and then attached to the gearbox with a big sort of ball joint, then instead of having a universal joint at each end of the drive shaft, Ford only had one at the gearbox end. This was fine until the joint was on its way out, then for ages before it completely fell to bits it would bash itself to pieces inside this tube, make all sorts of noises, and shake hell out of everything.

However I found by doing over 60 mph the thing would spin like a top and not vibrate or make a noise. However, you had to be going down hill to get that sort of speed out of the old girl, v8 or not. Those old FORD mechanical brakes were much better for stopping once you were down to about 25 mph, but never much good to slow you from 60 to 25. As there seems to be a corner at the bottom of most hills in this country most of the trip to Taupo was at about thirty mph. The noise and shaking was bad enough inside the car imagine what it was like for the dogs shut in the boot. When they got out, they were shaking their heads and staggering around like drunks with tinnitus [ringing in the ears] for a while but all’s well that ends well as they say.

Most of the time I was there the Bedford had flat back tyres & the Austin had the bonnet up with a sticking needle valve.

EDGECUMBE'S AUSTIN

FRANK'S BEDFORD.

Franks clerk might have been able to add two plus two but every time the truck stopped, he would belt the carburettor with a hammer.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

42

You have probably worked out that Adam was a little bit eccentric. Every morning Frank would be up at his office by 7.30, set everyone up for the day, and then go home. He had been having a bit of trouble with Adam a sneaking off home for cups of tea on the tractor, so decides he will drop him off on his way home and pick him up on his way back at knock off time, leaving him on the job, without wheels. Now this new arrangement is all new news to poor old AA, and he is absolutely, unprepared and ends up on the work site in his sack shirt without morning smoko, lunch, or afternoon smoko just his tools and fencing gear. Adam may be a bit eccentric, but Frank is getting on, and his memory is not what it was as he turns up at the office later without his worker. I happened to be going past or near there and Frank tells me to take the Austin and go down and get this joker. Now I am beginning to think Frank did not forget but after having all day to think about it had worked out what sort of mood his man would be in with no smoko's, no lunch, no wheels; totally abandoned. Bugger this Frank thinks, it is better to die in his bed with people thinking he was a bit forgetful, than being battered to death with a batten,

so young Bob gets the job. I

was that keen to drive the truck nothing else mattered. Tie the horse up chuck the dogs on the back and off the long slow way around. I soon found out that that was not a brilliant bit of planning. christ almighty, by the time the truck had stopped this guy's eyes are that glazed over there is no way he can tell that it is the Austin and not the Bedford. If you cannot tell the difference between two different makes and size of trucks, you have bugger all hope of telling the difference between the drivers. Next thing I know is I have this mad man up on the back of the truck tearing up and down the deck trying to boot my dogs off.

Try to get dogs off a truck using that method You would think it would work like this, dogs on the truck, wild man on ground, wild man on the truck, dogs on the ground. no they will not jump straight off, they always run around on the deck and make sure the situation is indeed bloody hopeless before jumping off. As fast as he kicked one off another jumped back on, eventually the deck is cleared, they all got the message, and the wild man sat down. One thing that did get solved that day was with this wild guy running and jumping all over the deck sometimes as high as 10 feet above my head I can tell you for sure that like the Scotsman this guy wore no underwear either. When I asked him what the problem was , he told me that after the way " I " had treated him that day there's no way he would get in a truck cab with ME then he said "You are just a bastard frank Tocker", he really thought I was Frank. I then had to catch these bloody poor confused buggers who after a lifetime of trying to get into truck cabs and on to car seats and always being pulled out then made to get on the back, one at a time and put them in the CAB. C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

43

Just one more thing about Edgecumbe; in the summer months the scotch thistles were so high in some paddocks Frank had to send the general hand out on the little Ferguson to crush tracks though them before we could get stock across.

not many people have seen thistles like that, nor tried to muster stock out from amongst them.

Years later I had to send the tractor to a couple of paddocks to flatten the paspalum grass before we could get sheep across them, it may not have been as high as the thistles but was that dense stock just could not walk though it. Both the thistles and the paspalum were almost bloody unbelievable, and one was as useless as the other.

Franks house on knobs hill with the MILL BOSSES. OBVIOUSLY NONE OF THIS IS TO SCALE

Hunts house

Adams house.

Woolshed, shearers quarters, Georges batch Truck driver / clerks house CEMETERY

Franks office complex an 8x10 foot hut

Where Adam was abandoned for the day

Franks house, the woolshed, the offi ce, it is all now gone under what l would later describe as a malignant invasive cancer, ( the town )

Don't use the compass if you are going to sea.

Goodbye Edgecumbe Block, hello Tuhingamata Block C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

44

Chapter 12

TUHINGAMATA

6900 words

Tuhingamata Block was the biggest I had been on to date, with 27,000 ewes and replacements, plus cattle. This was the first time I was given a house to live in, a near new three-bedroom house [no power] and double shed on Tuhingamata Road about four miles from the woolshed; no bed, no table, no chairs absolutely nothing except a bit of cooking gear and some blankets. more

“You will be better off on Tuhingamata because they have a cook house for single guys”. The manager came bullshit, Tocker had told me

down and took me back to the woolshed, gave me a couple of horses and a bit of a map and told me to find my way home, and be back at the woolshed at 7.30 in the morning. I do not think I will be able to find much to say about Tuhingamata.

It was a big block. It ran north from Kinloch nearly to Oruanui, and apart from when we were shearing or docking, we just rode our areas looking for cast ewes and for holes in the fences, broken trough valves, etc. They were always short of staff so drovers in between road jobs, or casual musterers did most of the mustering and yard work. Power was not reticulated around the property so all water pumps were diesel powered with little one cylinder diesel motors and it was a full time job for one man to keep them fuelled up and running.

Tuhingamata seemed to be a dumping ground for old armed service trucks. They had a six wheel GMC and two 4x4 FORDS from the army, and two old BEDFORDS from the air force.(still in their original colours)

One day a couple of us, shepherds had to go with the truck driver to the airstrip about six miles from the woolshed and help load fertilizer or grass seed into the top dressing plane. At the end of the day, he decided that he did not have enough petrol to get home, so the pilot said, “Don’t worry, fill it up with aviation fuel”, which we did. We were fair tearing up a hill on the way home when our CHAUFFEUR does a racing car gearshift and there is a bit of a bang from underneath somewhere and we stop. STIRLING MOSS reckons that the aviation fuel gave so much power that when he dropped the clutch he had chewed off a back axle. So he just puts it into four-wheel drive and carries on. Rather than tell Sid what had happened he just drives around on the front axle. Finally, when they had to pull it out of a hole, Sid decided that must have been when the axle gave way. God only knows what the mechanic or the foreman at the MOW workshop at Rotorua thought when he was looking at the chewed off ends of the axle, and remembering that he had been told it had just happened.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

45

l cannot remember his name but l can remember his car; it was 1939-ford mercury now the difference between a FORD and a Mercury was the same as, if you can remember, the difference between a ford zephyr and a ford zodiac. with the memory of the saddle business at Edgecumbe still pretty fresh in my mind, l said bugger all to anyone about this guys car, but man l spent a fair bit of time thinking about it.

Because it was such a long ride from our houses to the woolshed or some other part of the block, we two single fellows would either sleep at the woolshed or camp out in the paddock we were going to muster. The head shepherd always would start mustering at daylight and knock off at about two or 3.00 pm. I hated it and rarely had daylight starts later on when I had hold of the big stick (became the BOSS). Sometimes we would be up at 3.00 am catching horses in the dark and ride for a couple of hours to be there by daylight, just to sit around in the cold until midday, and be sent home because the fog had not lifted and you could not see where the stock was.

There were heaps of old rogue pine trees all over the place and when we decided to camp out for the night we would select what was considered to be the right tree, and set fire to it. There would be branches dropping off all night with huge clouds of sparks bursting up like fireworks, we were told time after time, not to do it but never stopped, FUCK HIM BRO'. Payday was every second Thursday so on the Friday night we would go into Taupo and have a big feed then go to a shop selling clothes etc. My mate whom I shouldn't really call him my mate.

(When we were kids we were all sitting in a picture theatre somewhere and the joker behind us was making a bit of noise; finally, the old man has had enough of mum’s bitching about it and asked this guy to keep quiet. I cannot remember what this guy exactly said but the word MATE was uttered. SHIT O DEAR, the OLD MAN is up and leaning over the seat with this joker by the neck and the word, MATE, is said again. The poor prick with the tight shirt collar managed to ask what the problem was and DAD says do not BLOODY call me MATE! “Why ?” “MATES fuck each other.” says Dad)

We were not really friends either, so I guess I am stuck with having to use a name that was not his name. (KEPA) Kepa would buy a complete new set of clothes and walk out flash as; I would go in with a bag, pick up everything except his underwear because there was none, and take them home, after a boil up and a good wash they were like new. We would spend a couple of hours gawking at the girls and go home. There was not much going on in Taupo in those days.

Even if there had been I never had any money, it all went on dogs, gear, car payments, tobacco, and tucker, GOD the list could almost be bloody endless.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

46

I had not been there long when I found out about needing a sharp knife to work there and it had nothing to do with the boss's toenails. On that new country, they planted a lot of red clover to fix the nitrogen in the soil and because of that lost many cattle with bloat, 100’s of head a year off all the Taupo Blocks. When ever that happened they would call in staff from other blocks to help skin them they usually just kept the skins, but one day Kepa thought he had a brainwave and when I got home he had gotten the tractor driver to drag six of these dead cows back to our house. (We had both been moved into one house at the Oruanui end of the block by this time on Oruanui Road), anyway here’s these dead cows all spread out in view of the house. If you could see them, you could smell them.

When I ask what is going on he slits open their guts puts a slit between two ribs and hooks his dog chains onto the ribs, ties his dogs up and tells me that’s their kennels until they have eaten them. I cannot remember if the dogs or the maggots ate them in the end but they were there for some time. When we were skinning these cows, one crew opened them up; another hooked the cow between two trucks and backed one away, pulling the skin off as it went the other truck then towed the carcass to a dumping area. One other time Kepa dug holes in a bank and used them for kennels but they filled up with water, so that did not work either.

After Mum and Dad’s first visit to Tuhingamata, Mum gave me an old bed and mattress, a table and a couple of chairs. When I left to go to Barugh’s at Matamata, I did not need them so gave them to this joker. Mum went really crook about it and it was not until many years later when Rachel gave away something we had given her, [ twin beds and mattresses] that she no longer wanted or needed that I really understood what Mum had been going crook about.

I have never been much of a drinker but at times have drunk to excess, on one occasion we were all in the shearer's quarters after rain had stopped the shearing and some of us were more intoxicated than others, me being well on the way. I remember going outside getting into the V8, driving around somewhere, and ending up going back to the quarters. Next morning I wake up and the party is obviously over. There are bugger all people left, most of whom I did not appear to know. The cook gives me a bit of breakfast and wants to know how I am going to get home as I lent my car to so & so to take so & so home, and the first so & so has not brought it back. Now I know that is just not THE GOSPEL TRUTH because I have gone though long periods of deprivation and desperation to keep this car and keep the repossession man at bay and there is no way I would have lent it to anybody. The more I shouted and carried on about this thieving mongrel the more obvious it became that he was part of this shearing gang and while the place was full of his allies, I had none .So rather than have blood on her floor the cook sends somebody to get somebody else. Now the guy who had been summonsed from the huts over behind the woolshed, where the fencers and C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

47

other casuals stayed, was a decent older guy with only one-and-a-half arms, who with his two sons were splitting posts up at the BEN LOMOND end of the block.

Not many days earlier, I had been up and talking to them and this guy was splitting posts just as quick as his boys. He would smack a little cut into the log, rest a wedge in it, tap it in a bit with the back of his axe, then pick up this gigantic mallet rest the handle on the forearm without the hand and only a stump of arm.

Then lift the whole lot up and slam the mallet down on to the wedge until he split the post; incredible .That is when I realized it does not really matter how severe the handicap, if you accept it, and get on with it you can adapt to new ways of doing most things you did before. Anyway he knows where this so & so has gone with my car and as it’s raining and there are no dry sheep to shear he won’t be back today, so he gets his two boys, he was a small man but the boys are big guys to take me over to where my car is. He tells me this fellow, so & so could give me a bit of trouble that is why he is sending both his boys to take me over. I knew they had a V8 coupe but while mine was a 1936 theirs was a 1946 the same as traffic cops had in those days. I wanted one of those cars for years but could never afford one and by the time, l could there were bugger all of them left on the road. We head out away from Taupo towards Rerewhakaaitu about 45 miles away and yes here is my car at the shearers quarters on NORTHERN BOUNDARY BLOCK. Well we get inside and this guy could not understand what all the fuss was about YES you did tell me to take your car YES you did say don’t rush back. In the end I did believe him and learnt a good lesson about alcohol, never let it take charge of you. worse still don't put it in charge of you anyway he gives me 2 dozen of beer that I give to my redundant minders, they were happy I was happy so & so was happy, it was a good result.

About 3 months before this, we had put a big mob of steers on the road, about 500 and walked them half way to Rerewhakaaitu, then Northern Boundary’s shepherds had taken over, and walked them the other half of the way. About a month after that, we walked a mob half way to TOKOROA where they were taken over by a block from up that way somewhere, then taken on to the Rail Head. It was on one of these jobs a Chevrolet car going though the mob slowly, hit one of my dogs and the guy gets out all apologetic like.

(He was wearing black leather dress gloves I can still see them as clearly as if I am looking at them right now.)

He is telling me how sorry he is then looks around his car a bit and says to me "I would have sworn that I hit your dog, I know I hit him because I felt it from inside." There was a lot of room up under those late 1930 to late 1940 yank cars and here is this pooch sitting on the top of the tyre under the mudguard. We ended up taking the wheel off to get him out, but by now, I was half a mile C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

48

behind the mob. The only way to slow traffic down was to put the mob over the whole road and they had to slow, but with one horse and a few dogs, the bastards would not slow down for you. This guy must have known it and offered to put the dogs in the boot and drove along behind until we caught up with the mob.

When we catch up and the dogs are out, he asked did I want a couple of quid in case the dog had to go to a vet. Now here is me sitting there hands freezing so I said no, he will be all right, but man, I could do with those gloves. "They are yours" he said peeled them off, gave them to me, and was gone and like a kid with a favourite shirt or something I wore those gloves until there was bugger all left of them.

Over the years, I have been pretty, lucky and never been badly hurt but on this occasion I was not so lucky. I was breaking in this bay gelding about fourteen hands, not a big horse but he had a bit of thoroughbred in him .Well I am ready to get up on him but he won’t stand still, probably because there’s no flat ground.

The only bit of flat is where they bulldozed out the house and shed sites. There’s nowhere around the shed because of the remains of Kepa's dog kennels and other rubbish and not much room around the house either only about six feet between the house and the fence. If he set to there, I would end up against either the house or the fence, I did not fancy either of those options. I figured I would lead him down this really steep gully about 200 yards then face him uphill and try to make him hurry up it, that should take the sting out of him, then I can get him in around the house. I get him down there, get up on him, and got him moving up the gully. About half way up he decides that is it, turns around and straight down the hill. Now this would be hard going even for the Church boys, bucking a horse down hill. Well first thing he gets rid of is me, and there is no crupper on this saddle so next the saddle is over his head and tangled around his legs, then he goes HEAD over HEELS into the fence. He is that out of steam I think I will be able to ride him up now but the saddle has sustained substantial damage so I have to carry the saddle and drag this bloody horse back up the hill. Have a brew, patch up the gear then what, no good doing the same act again. Right you sod you want to go down this gully fine, I get him over to the edge tie one front leg up, tie his head to his tail and say AU REVOIR good-bye. This horse gallops straight to the bottom looking straight back behind him and never put a foot wrong. Down I go get on him, and back up the hill no sweat. Then right up to the house around it a couple of times. Get off, get on, then he is into it again, there is no room here so I tried to yank him around in a circle. Over he goes; the back of the saddle came down on my chest and broke three ribs. I got myself into Taupo where the doctor tapes me up with GOD only knows how many yards of sticking plaster. After I got over that I finished breaking him in, and he turned out to be a good handy little horse. Out of the dozens of horses I have broken in I have only been dumped off a couple of them; this one because I knew no better. The other C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

49

was a bay mare we called Daffy who comes up later in chapter 24. She was not a top bucking horse, just thought it was a big joke, as soon as she sensed that you were not paying attention, she would just drop her head and fire you off, and then just stand there. She got rid of our 3 kids, poor young Henry spent more time getting back on her then he spent riding. When you are breaking in a horse if it bucks at all, you are on it too soon, and that horse can never be trusted. It knows it can do it, and does. If you do not let them buck, they never do.

Some guys seem to think that bucking a horse to a stand still is the only way. lt was never my way.

The block had a set of sheep yards where the Taupo Sale Yards are now and ram harnesses had just come out; really high tech stuff so a bunch of us are over there with a mob of ewes and a yard of rams, maybe about 30 or so. The BOSS turns up, dumps out these cardboard boxes, and tells the Head Shepherd what to do .We open up the boxes and get out these ram harnesses and boxes of crayons, each one wrapped up in plastic. After a bit of buggering around we get the harnesses on the rams. The H/S gets us to tip over and sit the rams up and he goes around and puts on the crayons. There was plenty of discussion about this whole deal words (long forgotten) so we put the rams in with the ewes, march them to the designated paddocks, and go home. About a week later, we hear the Boss and his lieutenant talking about these ewes, because there are no blue marks on them and questions are starting to be asked. Now, SID the EX BOILER man from the Tasman Mill at Kawerau, come the FARM MANAGER, became a DETECTIVE, and during the debriefing it is categorically established that, no the plastic was not taken off because his 2 IC (2nd in command) thought it was there to keep the crayon clean. Hence, no ewes are marked. Just another job for us tomorrow but it ruined the BOSS’S whole week. When I think back to those days how things have changed. We had just started to use ram harnesses, just started to drench regularly, no motor bikes or chain saws, still no front-end loaders on the survey blocks anyway.

There was an old Indian fellow about 70 years old who had a two-roomed They look more building up a bit of a bank beside the road, somewhere around Oruanui. One room was his HOUSE and the other his SHOP. like FUCKIsea The building looked twice as old as he did, which made it one gulls to me rather than some hundred and forty years old. KEPA had told me that he liked sort of FLYING mutton-birds, and one day informed me that this years’ would sheep. be at the shop on Wednesday. Until now, all the mutton I had eaten had four legs; not two, so I told him no thanks. Well after hearing all day Wednesday how good these mutton birds were I was nearly convinced, then he told me that the ice cream truck would be there on Thursday and if we got there by 5.30pm the ice cream would still be frozen and we could have mutton birds C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

50

and ice cream for tea. Well that was all this guy needs to clinch it so after work we drive to this supermarket. 1st the ice cream; as this establishment is not on reticulated power, the ice cream had to be picked up within an hour of the freezer truck dropping it off. Therefore, there was no ice cream because the two packets left had melted. 2nd the mutton birds; he had stored these things in a wooden barrel for most of his seventy years and every year there were a few more left over. Ever year he only put in enough to fill it and never threw any out.

Over the years his customer base had shrunk, so he put less in each year. Now this year must have been a record for sales because the barrel is half-full or half empty depending on how much you like mutton-birds. They did not look too good to me, so I reckoned it was half-empty. KEPA thought it was half-full and

a sliding scale, the remaining birds would be about forty to seventy years old and they looked the part. The OLD BOYS cash register was ringing as Kepa bought reckoned they looked all right.

On

the ice cream for his dogs and four mutton-birds to eat over the next few days. I had ordinary real mutton chops and tinned peaches for my tea.

On the days that we were shearing or crutching or any other jobs when we would be in the yards for most of the day, KEPA and I would camp out at the shed and usually slept in the wool room in a bin full of wool. Sleeping on a pile of wool four feet high is not as comfortable as you may think, but the worst part of the accommodation was our co-boarders. Some people snore and others think that is the end of the world. However, if you put hundreds of sheep into a shed all night and listen to them, the worst is the constant grating of their teeth, blowing out snot, coughing and wheezing as they breathe. A woolshed night pen would usually hold a full days’ shearing so if there were four stands you would have the guts of a 1000 ewes in there all making as much noise as they could so they did not have to listen to the one beside them. In the morning, we would light a fire pretty close to the pump house, with diesel, between two concrete piles.(not the shed piles) The BOSS was always going crook about how we would burn the pump shed down but we never did, that on its own is a bloody miracle.

Over the years as we acquire more possessions and usually without noticing it, our attitudes change. Today I can be quite scornful in my attitude to tenants who abuse their landlord’s property.

I had a horse while on Tuhingamata that was for the want of a better word AFFECTIONATE. That might seem a strange way for me to describe a horse to some people; but in my experience with horses, it is true. A horse will nuzzle you with its nose; it will touch your face with its nose and lips so gently that if it were dark you would swear that it was a ? (It’s hard to describe it without sounding like something out of a Mills and Boon love story, so it’s beyond my literary skills but you get the picture.) This horse always had his nose in your lunch bag or trying to get something out of your shirt pocket I would sometimes have a handful of biscuits C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

51

in there and he knew it. If you stopped and were sitting down having a smoke and had just put the tobacco packet on the ground beside you he would have that and have it tipped out looking for something to eat. Bread, sugar, weet bix anything except meat he would have a go at, so I start by giving him a bit of bread through the kitchen window, then he’s waiting at the door, then he’s in the kitchen. One day I rode him in to the kitchen Big Joke That Was, next time it is in the lounge.

One night we had a bit of a knees up and this guy decides that he will stay the night. KEPA gives me the nod and tells him sure no problem, and gives him another bottle. I shoot out and get NEDDY and stick him in the spare bedroom, give him a bit of bread, then take the rest off him, pull the light bulb out and shut him in there. Back in the lounge, young Kepa has this guy a bit more pissed and is telling him the bulb is knackered in the room but the bed is all set up GOD only knows what it had for blankets, probably an old saddle blanket and some woolpacks like my bed. We get this joker into, more likely onto his bed shove a bit of bread down his shirt and into a trouser pocket, shoot out the door, and wait. It is not long before NEDDY gets a whiff of the bread and is over there looking for it. There is a little bit of mumbling and then FULL ON; terror shouting yowling howling and bloody near yodeling, we are hanging on to this door to keep it shut, he’s on the other side trying to get the door open. By now, he is shouting and screaming something terrible, as if he is a lunatic who thinks he's about to be murdered then disposed of by twenty other lunatics, and all this time the horse is only looking for his bread (minus the butter) supper. This is ten or eleven at night, pitch black, then it is amazing how quickly a huge joke can suddenly become not so funny anymore, because suddenly its dead quiet on the other side of this door, SHIT has this bugger had a heart attack or something.

Quick get the door open, we have the light behind us, now we cannot see, and tear straight into something, shit it is the bloody horses back end. He is standing there gawking out the open window wondering why his weird roommate jumped out the window with his bloody supper. This guy’s car tail lights are going out the gate, we never heard from him or saw him again, but if YOU somehow read this please get in touch with me, because man I would love to know what until a moment ago you thought, was in the room with you. Now can you see why I started with the landlord tenant situation? The poor bloody property-owner in this case the Lands & Survey Department, which sometimes at times like this, we referred to as the Lands & Scurvy Department.

For some reason we all seemed to think that when we had done something that was un- loyal and not in the Surveys best interest it seemed more acceptable to think of them as the LANDS AND SCURVY DEPARTMENT. When it was the Survey, it meant we were loyal and proud to be part of it, which was C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

52

most of the time. When it was Lands and Scurvy it was nearly always because of our behaviour and we were always going to leave next week.

Man alive there was horseshit smeared on the wall where he had turned around while poking around in the dark trying to locate his bread that he knew was in the room, but not quite where it was. There was more horseshit and piss on the floor, there was a bit of regurgitated food and a fair bit of Waikato beer, the drink of Kepa's choice. I have never been able to stomach the stuff and to this day will not drink it, DB for Bob in those days. Of course this horse business does not end there, the first time I rode him into the kitchen it was a big joke, scared the crap out of the fellow sharing this house with me. However, quickly this behaviour turns into the normal and I would come home tie the dogs up and feed them, then ride up to the house straight in into one room or the other. Kitchen if it was tea time, bedroom if it was bed time, pull my gear off him dump it on the floor, give him a bit of bread or a couple of biscuits flick him on the rump and he

Now the back half inch on the horseshoes are bent down, they are known as heels to give the horse a bit of grip on a hill or the ice, and they worked as intended outside. However, they were never intended for walking on bare would go outside.

timber house floors, what you needed there was what the racehorse fraternity would call slippers. Can you imagine young Bob or anyone for that matter reshoeing his horse every day so he could ride the extra 20 feet into the bloody kitchen, I do not think so, and because of health and safety, the heels have to stay.

Anyway the next occupier will probably put down carpet and lino, so the big marks all thorough this house will be covered up, it is amazing how quickly a nice house can be turned into a tip without actually chopping holes in the walls or smashing the wife’s head through it.

One

house we moved into there were holes in the wall around the phone. Every time this guy came home and caught this wife on the phone, her head went through the wall again.

The same as some tenants we ourselves have had in recent years; (and one only a few months ago), we just took the horse out, shut the window and door, and left it. As I left Tuhingamata before the OTHER JOKER, I do not have a clue as to what happened about it. The other bit of just pure vandalism was with the car shed. It is rather strange that when somebody else does this, it is vandalism and hooliganism, and wilful destruction of property, but when you do it; it is only a BLOODY SHED and on it goes. Well its winter and its cold we have no wood for the coal range and the manager has had enough of six houses running their fires on diesel, so he tightens up security in a big way. This is Sid Brien from C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

53

the mill at Kawerau, so he knows a thing or two about securing things that the owner would like to keep in his possession. The Fuel Shed is like Fort Knox, the trucks, the tractors all have anti- siphon things in the spouts, and the pump sheds are all like Mini Fort Knox’s. I know this is hard to believe today but even then, chainsaws were not a thing you would find on a blocks’ chattel list. Therefore, it is a unanimous decision that the framed up 4 x 2-divider wall down the centre of our double shed did not need all these nogs, the short pieces diagonally nailed between the vertical studs, so they are all out, at a rough guess 8 meter shed 13 studs 5 nogs between each one 13x5=65 pieces. shit, that could last 2 weeks.

These things are a bit hard to cut with our axe, which had only ever cut dog meat and cattle bones, which can be a bit cruel to the edge of an axe. See chapter 08 Walkers axe Bugger it leave the stove door open and when some of the nog has burnt off we can shove the rest in and shut bloody no brains o'brien’s bloody stove door. There is a bit of smoke going up the wall but if we put the table over there, and leave the window open over there, the smoke is not really a problem except for the blackening wall. However, this bloody window is now the problem, there is as much cold air coming in as there is hot air going out, but before we had this firewood there was no hot air, just cold. Now we have hot air for some of the time while the stove door is shut, so it is definitely some improvement. The 2 weeks wood is gone in I week so "SHIT LOOK HERE" this roof definitely does not need 13 studs to hold it up. Now we have 13 pieces of 4x2 about 10 feet long 13x10=130 lineal feet of potential firewood now hang on a minute they would not have put 13 in if they had not needed to. Shit if they had built six sheds without any they would have had enough to build another complete shed; perhaps we should leave a couple in. No, tell you what we will do we will just take them out one at a time from each end and before we get to the last one the weather might be warmer. brilliant so out comes no1. Now this smoke and open stove door and open window business has to be solved because these bits are about 10 feet long and the bloody firebox is only one foot, bugger getting up 10 times, because every time the end is burnt off the rest falls on the floor SHIT O DEAR we might burn the bloody house down.

Next day we are working up at the woolshed and just before we head off somewhere with a mob, Kepa disappears for a while, comes back, and awkwardly gets up on his horse and we are away with these sheep. Half a mile from the yards, it is, " bob help me get this thing out." Well I notice that he has his hand down the back of his shirt and not the front of his pants, so in spite of what he has just said and the fact that he tells all his bloody mates that I am his MATE. I thought I was OK in doing as he is asking. He is wriggling around trying to reach down the back of his collar. Now try this, sit on a kitchen type chair, and push your hand down the back of your shirt collar.

"You can reach down quite a way right?

C robberteebobs books

now sit up on a

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

54

skittish horse with a shirt, jersey, some sort of coat, and a real oil skin rain coat not a soft pliable plastic thing like you get today and see how far down your back

you can reach not far right?. While he was doing his disappearing trick he had been around to the Block Store Shed and nicked a good sort of handsaw and with all this wet weather gear on, the easiest place to conceal it was down the back of his shirt. It had to go under his shirt so it did not slip down past his belt, you try sitting up on a horse with a four-foot long saw half under your bum. So we stop and get off, it was only then I noticed that there was indeed something odd about young Kepa's posture, and on closer inspection I find he's got the end of a saw blade under his hat and obviously the handle is down his back, but the problem is it will not come out. It is not really hosing down but it is raining and Christ Almighty to get this saw out we have to disrobe his top half, damn near completely. Sometime one of the screws holding the handle on had been lost and had been replaced with a nut and bolt, then the bolt end had been bent over and facing down the blade. Now through sheer good luck for his back, the saw went down with the head of the bolt against his back. When I tried to pull it out the bolt end snagged into his shirt hence the strip act in the rain with a non-paying but bloody participating audience of only one. We get the sheep gathered up and away to their paddock then home, so the fire wood saga continued, knock out studs as required saw them up burn them in the stove, over and over until we get to the last one. Then the nogs start coming out of the walls, then the odd stud I dare say we would have demolished and burnt the whole shed if spring then summer had not been a bit early that year. It was still standing when I left in March to go to Matamata.

I may go bloody crook about damage to my property but I have never said much to the perpetrators (plenty to others though) and have only once pursued

l keep remembering the old saying about the pot calling the kettle black. anyone to court to recover the damage.

While I was there, we did the docking and for the three or four weeks it took, it never rained. The two of us camped on the job the whole time. We did bugger all in the way of washing ourselves or our clothes, lived mostly on lamb’s balls, onions, lambs tails, and liver from the dog tuckers, a blind man could see where the docking pens had been set up because of all the burnt pine trees. I temporarily lost my enthusiasm for shepherding for a while there what with the long rides to work, and rubbish horses.

Good horses reduced to

rubbish horses by rubbish riders, and in most cases, they ended up as cat food long before they should have. Never in my whole life have I seen as many horses with sore backs and withers, I rode the first two poor buggers they gave me bare back for weeks until they came right nobody seemed to care, neither did my co- worker. What really pissed me off was C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

55

being the youngest we always had to kill the bloody mutton on Tuesday afternoon, and the earliest I could get back was after work on Wednesday. In the cold months we just ended up with the two worst forequarters but in the warmer weather we ended up with not only the worst forequarters but flyblown as well. it was the same bloody deal with the dog tuckers we always had to kill some fat rams and some skinny ewes, needless to say our dogs lived on the skinny ewes. In addition, living with this joker was getting on my wick take me here, take me there, lend me this, lend me that, just bloody take any bloody thing the bugger wanted.

The Prime Minister at the time was Keith Holyoake and he owned a big block of land down Whangamata Road. I have never thought of it before, but was there a CONNECTION between the PRIME MINISTER * CROWN LAND * and HOLYOAKE'S FARM. (NO I DON’T THINK SO) not gentleman Keith Holyoake (Although I have since come across some information relating to that land that I prefer to ignore.)

.

SIR KEITH HOLYOAKE PRIME MINISTER 1960-1972.

Sir Keith later served 3 years as the Governor General

The empty house was built right under hightension power lines nobody would live in it so stayed empty for years until they finally relocated it. That is about all the roads there were in that area in those days and from memory there were only a couple of batches at Kinloch.

1 cm = 1 km

Somewhere in this chapter when l said something was beyond my literary skill l suppose, some of you thought that was stating the bloody obvious.

Goodbye, Tuhingamata Block L&S hello C robberteebobs books

W Barugh & Son revised and reprinted Feb 2013

56

Chapter 13

W BARUGH & SON

1760 words

There is not a lot to say about this job. William senior and William junior were both what seemed to me at the time old men. Bill junior gave the orders on the farm but it appeared that the chain of command was; Mrs Barugh senior told Mr Barugh senior what was to be done the night before and after breakfast, he told Mr Barugh junior what was to be done. By this time, Mrs Barugh senior appeared not to know what was going on. Mr Barugh Junior was not married and had lived at home his entire life. However, when we were outside Young Bill gave the orders and got things done. I found him to be a decent sort of chap.

However, neither the married man nor I really knew who the boss was. Even the pay cheques were signed W Barugh, which could have been any of them because Mrs Barugh’s Christian name was unknown to us workers.

The old boy had acquired a corrugated iron mould for making water troughs and it seemed that he was determined to get his money's worth out of it, because Bill and I spent most of our time making water troughs. The troughs were about six feet across and three feet deep, I think their vision was to give each cow its own trough, they were everywhere. I never saw the married man during the day as he was employed only to help milk and when the last cow went out he went home leaving us to clean up etc. Another job that was high on the must be done list which was on the dairy wall, was to clean out the wastewater sump at the back of the cow yard. The thing would hold about three days' water and cow shit but we cleaned it out each day and I mean cleaned it.

The liquid shit was pumped into a trailer tank then spread on the same paddock every time, the Californian thistles were five feet high and seemed to grow all year around they would not put it anywhere else because they did not want to spread the thistles around.

They did not seem to consider that the amount of shit spread on this small block was why the thistles were so bad.

Because there were so many troughs around the place there was not much water going through them and the slime and mould must have thought it was great. So that was another job on the must do list, cleaning water troughs. On remembering back, I think milking, cleaning the sump and cleaning and making water troughs was about all I ever did in the few months I was there.

One other thing that happened while I was there was that they had a five ton Commer truck and decided that it would be a good idea if I got my heavy traffic licence because neither of them had one. When they lost their last worker they also lost their HT licence and had been paying Elliot’s the local carrier to deliver the metal etc, for the troughs. Mrs Barugh made all the arrangements and the equally old boy next-door drove with me into town. The traffic cop Jack Webb asks me the questions then we go for the drive, half way down the main street in C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

57

third gear he says "drop it into second" which was easier said than done with an old unsynchronised crash box there was a lot of crashing and graunching noises that is why they called them a crash box. Anyway, I did a quick legal stop and said to Jack, "Shit, Bill told me that might happen because there is something wrong with the selector shaft." Now it was easy to get the gear lever out; you just pushed a cap at the bottom of it down, twisted it around and lifted it out. I poke a screwdriver down the hole and Jack says give it to me, or we will be here all day. He bangs around in the gearbox and I am thinking Christ what is going to happen if he does jam it up because I know there was nothing wrong, I had just missed the change. Anyway, he puts the gear lever back in and says "Back to the office we won’t try that again because we might not be able to fix it next time." He wrote out my ticket, I shot down to the council office, and holy moly, I had a heavy traffic licence.

It’s strange how some little things seem to stick in your mind forever. Like the bit in the next paragraph, the Barugh’s had used local carrier Elliot’s, for years, but around this time Elliot’s was sold to Bill Luff, “W. LUFF LTD” Barugh and Son had been into the Matamata sale and bought a pen of heifers and since Elliot’s were not there, gave the job to Bill Luff and went home.

Well the loading race led into the cow yard and it is getting a bit close to cow time, which means we cannot start milking until these animals are unloaded so as you would expect the Old Boy is getting a bit agitated. When Mrs Barugh told him that as he was not really one of the new man's regular clients and they had not opened an account or anything, he should not expect Luffs to drop everything and do his job immediately. That did not go down too good and old Mr Barugh is on the phone to W Luff Ltd and tells Bill about this problem with the race, Bill says he understands and will send NO 5 up straight away.

Now that set Mr Barugh senior off and he ranted and raved about this upstart Johnny – come - lately referring to his driver as [no 5] I have never forgotten that.

One thing about Barugh’s that intrigued me, was a reasonably sized shed by the house, that was kept locked. The truck was housed in it, but we (the workers) were always told to wait outside when young Bill got the truck out. I found out that there were buggies, carts and other horse drawn equipment and horse harness in there. however, whenever I ask to see it was told not today some other time when Mr Barugh senior was either feeling better or had time to show me. I wondered about it for years and would have loved to seen the gear in it.

However, I had learnt the hard way not to show too much interest in things that did not really concern me, using the saddle at Edgecumbe Block as an example.

Just like today, how some young fellows are always doing something to their cars; I was no different. Every now and then, I would pull the heads off the FORD and give her a DECARB. Exhaust soot and gunk would build up in the C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

58

exhaust manifolds and if you cleaned it out regularly, the motor would go better according to some buggers wise words. So following the usual procedure, I proceeded * drain the water out * take plug leads off * take head nuts off * give her a flick on the starter, that usually lifts the heads up a bit * lift the heads and gaskets off * clean up the heads and the gaskets. Hello, one gasket is stuck; get the knife under it, now it is no longer stuck but it is useless. Bugger me it is only about 20 miles to Elstow and I had another gasket at the old man's, smother the good head gasket with grease, bolt on the head, four plug leads on, four plug leads off. Started her up and drove the 20 miles on four cylinders and no water. I stopped about ten times and let her cool off then on a bit more. Got home, put the other second hand gasket on and she was good as gold. I bet you could not do that today with aluminium blocks and heads. Even the water pumps were OK just in case you are thinking they would not have been. (Aluminium, paint used on the coal ranges was often used as a gasket sealant) Not long after Mum and Dad had moved to Elstow, Ken left and got a job somewhere local on another cow farm. The Old Man hired some guy but after a few months he shoots through. I do not know how hard Dad tried to find another worker, but MUM is going on about how he can't get somebody and why don’t I come home and work for him for awhile. So, the long and short of it is yes I will

l still had six dogs and the Barugh's were never happy about that and neither was the old man. give it a whirl.

Anyway, I am off to Elstow not far from Te Aroha. The old man was sharemilking on a place owned by a fellow he knew during the war, an ex army officer by the name of Cocky Osborne. Cocky had a daughter who was born on the same day as me and every year Dad was sharemilking for him he would ring me up on my birthday; not to wish me a happy birthday, but to tell me to ring this sheila, whom I had never met and wish her a happy birthday Good God Dad! Colonel Osborne was an Officer and a Gentleman who I did not think would appreciate some farm worker ringing up his daughter on her birthday.

I kept well away Opposite is a picture of an old V8 engine. It is not hard to see why it was so easy to get the heads off. 21 nuts and all you needed was an 8-inch crescent.

However the water pumps were a different story as they were also the front engine mounts and while they had 2 or 3 bolts on the outside they also had one 3/8 bolt inside and the bolt heads used to rust off making getting them off in one piece almost impossible. .

Left water pump & front left engine mount C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

59

Even though I

was only there for a few weeks this piece of paper has been more help in getting a job than any bloody certificate given to me my some academic that has never done a days work in the real world.

The motor below is a 1932, although they had been buggering around with them for a few years 1932 was when they went into full production, the one on the last page is a 1936 slightly more horsepower, and the fan has been relocated.

God l can’t help but laugh today when l hear buggers raving on about their v8 fords, Holden's etc as if they are something new, Shit O Dear Henry ford had them in old model a

type vehicles in 1932.

bugger all is bloody

new

mate.

This is the truck l got my heavy traffic licence with and carted a couple of loads of metal in for their trough making hobby.

Goodbye, C robberteebobs books

Barugh's & Son

hello

Mum & Dad revised and reprinted Feb 2013

60

Chapter 14

AF SIMMONDS (DAD)

4800 words

I moved home without any great drama and start working for Dad and moved into the workers old hut, started going out at night got to know a few young fellows and was starting to do more than look at the girls. I found an old .303 rifle under the hut that Ken had obviously hidden there when he was at home, our little sister Margie saw me with it, and next thing I know mum is ranting and raving about a gun and was going to call the police. She was always going to call the cops for something or other but never did her mother, grandma NAN Donaldson was the same. I told MUM it is all bullshit and heard no more about it. More about this gun when Ken is home One day I am in Morrinsville at this car yard, BLACKS CARS. There is a 1939 Ford sedan there that the guy tells me to take for a drive so as Dad had one of these at Tariki I take this thing home for him to have a look at and it does not take him long to convince me that it is knackered and I had better take it back. Probably because it was better than the little Morris 8 he had at the time, anyway, I am parking this thing up, and a Dutchman who was there looking for a car, tells me, to stop it from burning oil, take the spark plugs out and pour some creosote into it and that will fix it. (I have never forgotten that, but by the same token never done it either) A month or so later I went back there and brought a 1939 Buick straight 8 off him that only ever ran on seven cylinders. I cut the back off it with one of the old man’s wood saws and his axe. Yank cars were made of steel in those days but so were saws and axes. I wonder if you could chop a Jap car in half with a Chinese saw today. WE / ME put a tip deck on it and carted dirt around the farm to fill up gateways and around water troughs.

A BIT OF TECHNICAL INFORMATION ABOUT THIS TIP TRUCK; The four main components are (1) truck (2) deck (3) a hinge arrangement that the deck can pivot on (4) some way of raising the front end of the deck. (1) That has been covered just chop the arse end off a yank car.

christ almighty, Today, many people would quite rightly think anyone desecrating a car like that, in that manner would deserve to be most sternly reprimanded and now, even l would agree.

(2) The deck was no problem as you can always find something to make a bit of a truck deck of. (3) The hoist hinge and pin, now this took a little bit more thinking about but was finally manufactured from six C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

61

gate straps from three of Colonel Osborne's gates and the length of half inch rod holding the cutter bar up on his old sickle bar mower. (4) The lifting mechanism to raise the deck, now this is the power house, the heart of the whole bloody operation, because if the deck can't be raised to tip stuff off, you just cannot go around talking about your tip truck. Fortunately as there was quite a overhang by placing the load just so a jerk on the clutch was all that was needed most times. There was absolutely no money for hydraulics or anything like that so, the gate straps, held together with the rod from the mowers' cutter bar are bolted between the deck and the rear of the chassis, now for the next part of this cunning absolutely foolproof plan. Two pieces of 4x4 hardwoods were simply bolted to the front of the deck, held up with a length of baling twine. Then according to the instruction manual and the educated fellow who had designed and built this thing, in the face of many sarcastic remarks and much head shaking.

Once operational all the driver had to do was get the speed up to what the graph showed to be the optimum speed for the weight of the load, wait until he was in the exact position, then just drop the twine. Actually, what did happen the first time it wasn't loaded just so, on releasing the twine, the two pieces of 4X4 Australian hard wood did drop down. However, then every part of the deck that was not secured with dirt flew to pieces, pieces of boards, full of bloody nails and about a metre of dirt, went straight through the chassis and jammed under the thing, what a disaster, then all the bloody I TOLD YOU SO started. The bloody gate straps went back on the gates, the one straight piece and the two end bits of the mower thing went on the ground under the mower, most of the shed door went in the woodshed, and the rest of the wood buried under the fill on the race.

The whole BLOODY 1939 BUICK SUPER DELUXE STRAIGHT EIGHT was, reunited in the rubbish hole on Colonel Osborne's farm; and ROBBIE kept making the payments until Blacks car yard had their money. With hindsight, I should have ignored Dads advice, taken the bloody Dutchman's, and bought the Ford because I don’t think I would have desecrated a FORD to that extent.

I DO NOT KNOW HOW MANY TIMES DAD TOLD ME OVER THE YEARS If the manufactures wanted it that way, they would have made it that way.

One day Dad tells me to bolt an attachment to the back of his little Ferguson tractor, with four big bolts, about 20 mm, now that is a fairly big hole, so there is a lot of mud and rust around and in these holes. I pour as much oil in them as I can and start winding in the first bolt; it is getting pretty It was the bottom damn tight but still has a way to go, so I put a piece of pipe on the right bolt that blew out the handle then BANG! A piece of piece of diff after half filling DAD, MARGIE & THE the hole with oil.

LITTLE FERGUSON steel Âź the size of a saucer flies C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

62

out the side of the diff. Dad says it is a mystery, and I do not know why it happened. However, years later when I understood hydraulics a bit better I knew what had , it had been a crude hydraulic jack, it only blew out sideways, so did not leak oil and the thing was always used with only three bolts, but I have always been careful about pouring oil down blocked bolt holes.

Mum always referred to this incident as Kenny's bit of trouble, whenever I asked Mum the only bit I ever thought I heard properly was "He Got Borstal." It is only a few days ago (July 08) I found out what really did happen. Now I know what I probably heard was "It's lucky he did NOT get borstal" The whole thing was and until the other day never mentioned between the two of us. The following is most likely still not exactly right, but l hope it's close enough to satisfy all concerned.

Kens working at Kinleigh mill, and after about 6 months the young fellow gets into a bit of trouble with the Constabulary at TOKOROA, the Old Man, and Colin Tidmarsh go down to get him. There has been a bit of a hearing with an official of some sort, and the deal has three parts; PART [a] some sort of Bond has been set at £ ?.oo. And Ken is to be taken to the Te Aroha Police Station straight away, the Sergeant is a tough bugger and a night in his care will make sure this young fellow stays on to the straight and narrow. Uncle Colin has already booted his backside a couple of times and verbally ripped him to shreds so Kenny is temporarily put into Tidmarshes custody to be delivered to Te Aroha ASAP, so the two of them are on their way to Te Aroha. Now the old man has a Teensy Weensy problem with this Bond because he only has £ ?.oo in the bank and now that his friend Colin has gone can tell the cop about this Teensy Weensy problem. "That is no problem. Mr Simmonds you just write a cheque out for £ ?.oo because we will only try to cash it if your boy shoots through." Then adds "Mr Simmonds if the young fellow does shoot through and your CHEQUE DOES

(Shit, the old man never took his eyes off his youngest son for two months). Well this is starting to look as if it might all work out OK. By the bounce we will be able to find a room for you as well."

time dad gets to Te Aroha in Ken's little Morris eight, Uncle Colin, and the Sergeant had it worked out. [b] Ken was to spend the night at the cops' house and in the morning sign up to join the local football club for 2 months. [c] He lives at home and works for the old man for those two months. Then Dad gets his cheque back. The only problem now is with only £ ?.oo in the bank he could not pay us both. Therefore, before he leaves Te Aroha he rings Mum and tells her what she has to do. By the time he gets home, I had capitulated, and the way was clear for the little brother. Mum was there to pick him up in the morning but had to wait until he had finished breakfast; three weet-bix garnished with a cup of boiling water and half a cup of sugar.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

63

From what I was told the other night I gather a shop manager had been flogging stuff out of his shop and to cover the missing gear had shut the back door then booted it open making sure to damage the lock etc, Then he puts a few bits of bait, biscuits clothes or something by the door, when these young jokers came past they saw the door and picked up a bit of this bait. Out jumps, the manager grabs them and phones the law. The cops soon work out what really is going on and decide while they have hold of these boys they will give them a fright, and hope they never actually do any thieving. I know the old Lady did not always tell us the whole story, for our own good you understand, but I do not think she actually lied to us.

on a need to know basis,

Everything was

however, Dad could be and still is a bit devious. Ken is a bloody good storyteller. So, I have to say, i am buggered if i know, you can think whatever suits you.

The Old Man, Colin, the Shop Manager, and the two Cops were all Returned Serviceman and as there was nothing stolen the whole thing was swept under the table. We both had the SHIT scared out of us by the police when we were young and it bloody does help keep young fellows out of trouble.

Anyhow, Ken is back home and I am out of a job, and I head down to Tokoroa to see if I could get a job as a trainee truck driver at Kinleith. They had no vacancies, but gave me a job called Silverferning shit this sounds

Shit O Dear! God save me & the bloody Queen!! shit o dear! pruning bloody pine trees. good I cannot wait

CHAPTER 14B

KINLEITH MILL

This chapter will not take up much space. When I arrived security allocated me an 8 foot x10 foot hut, showed me where the canteen was, and told me where and what time to get on a bus in the morning. I am up early, get over to the canteen, have my breakfast, pick up my dinner, and get on the bus. About half an hour later, the driver pulls up somewhere, it could be anywhere, in the bush. The gear is out and the others are straight into the job, we three new boys are told to watch until we get the idea of what to do, and away we go. Well every few minutes somebody yells out over here; the boss man would blow a whistle and everyone stops. The union guy would go over to the yeller and decide a new rate for the trees around there. God there was a different rate depending on how steep it was, how much blackberry there was, if the sun was shining. When it was established just what the new rate would be, the boss would blow his whistle, and away we went until somebody else decided their rate needed to be negotiated and altered. If somebody decided it was raining, the union man would hold a cigarette paper out flat and count the raindrops on it. So many raindrops and we all had to sit in the bus until he checked his paper again.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

64

this very brief period was enough to fix my life long opinion and ideas about trade unions and communism.

CHRIST WHAT A BLOODY OUTFIT,

About 9.30 am on the second day, I have had enough of this and told the boss man I was finished and would walk back to camp. He would not let me walk back and piled everybody back onto the bus and took me back to Kinleith, got a security guy to sign for me, and went back to the bush. Security stood there while I packed my gear and moved out.

THREE DAYS LATER; BOB IS BACK FROM THE BIG BUSH JOB & MUM IS THRILLED, ECSTATIC, and OVER COME with JOY. (maybe)

It was during this time Ken and I spent more time together than we had for years, and the .303 saw the light of day again. I had told Ken I had found it but he’s still getting over his fright with the law and what have you, so without telling me, he put it in his little Morris took it up to the top of the Kaimai’s on the Tauranga Road and heaved it over the bank. A few days later, he is telling me about these wild cattle up the Kaimai Range behind Matamata, so I said we should get the .303 out, go up, and shoot one for Mum to put in the freezer, and then he tells me what he had done with the rifle. That is ok so we pinch / borrow Dads point 22 rifle. Dad being very law abiding would never lend anyone a gun without the necessary police permits etc, so we did not ask, and take off way up the Kaimai’s, find the .303 and make our way into the bush and yes, after hours there are some wild cattle. I have the .22 and Ken has the .303. Bang! Bang! Like a firing squad, nobody knows who fired the fatal shot. Down goes this big white bull. Dead silence, then there were dogs barking sort of only over there, and some

“ Bloody hunters, l wonder what they have shot this time.” I quickly realize this is no wild bull. Jesus, we are just about in guy says

some cockies back yard, and take off down the hill. We got back to the car and home in really quick time.

(Just a bit BY THE BY about the gun permits. Was not using farm petrol in the car the same thing?)

After that Ken decides that some other mate had told him about goats ‘yes you guessed’ up the Kaimai’s behind Te Aroha so next weekend off we go with the old man’s .22 and the .303. This time I am in charge of the big artillery. We get way up in the bush and have a really good day investigating old mines and abandoned buildings and actually shot this nice healthy looking young doe, and after climbing up a bit of a hill, sit down to have a smoke. Ken is sitting on this log I shrug the goat off my back and sit down opposite him and drop the butt of the .303 on ground a bit hard and the bloody thing goes off. It fires the bullet straight through Ken’s hat about an inch above his head big fright, fucking C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

65

big fright, but being young we get over it me quicker than him and it is a big joke. We get home put the .22 away and hide the .303. Mum is really, rapt with her hunter sons; the old man never asked how we killed it. MUM cooks some of it up for dinner next Sunday everybody is humming and hawing and saying how good it smells, then how good it looks.

Dad carves it up and puts it on our plates, greens, spuds good-looking meat, nice brown gravy; every one is waiting for somebody else to eat first. The old man breaks first and tells mum to fry some bacon he not going to eat bloody goat meat. Mum ends up frying bacon for us all, which we eat with our cold

vegetables. I have ever been able to stomach eating goat meat, even later when we were at Kaingaroa and owned hundreds of goats.

While I was at home and Ken was away there was no lock on a small shed where DAD kept a drum of petrol, however the day before Ken comes home, hello, there is a padlock on it. It transpires that little brother had pinched some petrol, which was bad enough, but to make matters worse he had put the same amount of water into the drum and when the old man puts his dipstick in there appears to be the right amount of petrol in the drum. Next time he fills up the car with farm petrol, which was illegal as there was no road tax on it, Mum finds out it will not run on water, so the shed is now secure and the petrol is now safe.

Shit if he had used his scone and did as I did, put it in the tractor and entered it in the bloody book, then took it out of the tractor over a couple of nights the old man would have always blamed the neighbour. Because why would his boy bugger around taking it out of the tractor when he could have taken it out of the unlocked drum, the same logic worked for the neighbour apparently, as it would have been obvious if it had been flogged out of the drum.

Sometimes Dad left us to milk at night, so Ken knowing how much milk they had yesterday would let the last few cows straight though without milking them and top the vat up with tap water. Dad knew what Kenny was up to but never really said much to him. However, one afternoon Ken comes back to the house all covered in cow shit and blood running out of his nose, MUM storms over to the shed to find out what has been going on and to see if the old man needed any first aid. She is soon told that the little bugger had got cocky when he had been asked about the recent note from the factory with regards to the excessive amount of water that appeared to be getting into the vat after milking when the lines were flushed and Ken had told the old man he would thump him.

DAD was never a big man, but had not spent five or six years overseas during the war without knowing how to look after himself, he walked through to the middle of the yard full of cows, where KEN had retreated to after he had realized too much had been said. Then, without a word Dad had decked him then carried on milking, some cows did not shit on ken, but some did, when the old man went one way back to the bails, Ken went the other way off home to MUM. C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

66

When they were at Wardville I went home one time for a few days after Ken had painted his MORRIS with a spray gun hooked up to the Old Lady’s vacuum cleaner. After dinner one day, he puts it into the cow shed under the roof up by the bails to be out of the sun or wind by about 3.00 pm it is finished and looking like a million dollars.

Milking time is always 4.00 pm so Ken's plan is to just leave everything where it is go over to the house, get cleaned up, have a drink, a little sit down, then back over to the shed, put the lids on the paint tins, clean things up retrieve and cleanup mums vacuum cleaner. By now the paint would be starting to dry, but that old enamel would be as sticky as flypaper. Now when Ken took his car in he did not shut the gate into the milking yard, but does shut the one at the end of the race, as this gate is never left open because once through that one, the stock were out on the road. The old man has been doing something down the back, but had left his watch in the bathroom that morning. He thinks it must be about 3.30 pm [½ an hour early] and heads up behind the cows, of course they march straight into the yard and the shed. He shuts the yard gate and goes over to get his afternoon tea.

DAD gets a shock because this lazy young bugger is sitting there as if he has all the time in the world, when he should be over at the shed, setting up the dairy and getting ready to start milking. Ken gets a bigger shock when he heard that the OLD MAN has brought the cows up with him and they are already in the yard. 'shit o dear' "jesus christ" (Now this is a bit like at old Bill Barugh’s chapter 05 and the loading race.) Its bloody obvious mate, the area has to be empty before Ken can get his car out therefore the cows must be evacuated. I know and these cows know that before they can get out, they have to go through the bail first, also during their little wait have a few licks from the salt and molasses that is there, and they are not missing that. So as quick as Dad pulled one out another old tart pushed in, same thing would happen if he let the bail occupant through the bail. Why he did not just open all the doors, let the bloody lot walk straight through, then fill the vat with water and melamine, say BUGGER IT and go home I do not know, but he did not so the drama continues. ( I know we did not know about melamine in those days)

Now this is all KENS! Fault and the way the old man sees it Ken should be helping him, and not trying to defend this huge heap of cow hair, shit, and snot in the middle of his yard. So by the time he realizes that there are now no more cows in the yard, he's starting to think he may not only be going to win this battle, but he may win the whole bloody war. Then it's 'shit o dear'. On his way up with the cows, he had set the race up for after milking, and the gates were all set to turn the cows into the night paddock. So its not quite 'Kenny be a good C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

67

lad and move your car out and clean up the paint off my concrete and see what you can do with your mummy's vacuum cleaner' .(you can say what you think he said here) He had not at this stage seen inside the dairy. I do not know why it was, because GOD ONLY knows there was nothing in the dairy room that you would think might interest a cow, so because of that the door was always shut it seemed to hold some sort of fascination for them. Perhaps they liked to see their milk running down through the old cooler or something, I do not know. However, it was look Mary the door is open and there is only that vacuum cleaner in the way; so about 50 of these old girls have been on a bit of a tour without a guide. What they not knocked over they covered with the same stuff that is all over the floor and walls. After 50 cows have walked over the old lady's vacuum cleaner on their way in, and 50 have walked over it on their way out, you should be able to envision what the hose looked like. Now if you think Ken's mission is impossible, give the old man's situation a bit of thought, he only has one twenty five year-old dog that is useless 110% of the time, anyway Jack is busy looking after his chain.

Dad is too far away for the old sheila to hear him anyhow so she is unaware of all this drama and does not help. In addition, there is young Ken! Who knows if he is screaming, yelling, or just crying but he hears no one. If you are thinking getting 100 cows out of a fresh paddock of grass whether they are hungry or not, should not be any harder that what it was to get them out of a bare paddock half an hour ago, you just do not know what is what.

So while I am at home this time I decided to paint the FORD, but I would not open the old sore about the vacuum cleaner by asking if I can use it. Thinking about all the drama concerning spray cans today, what with tagging and sniffing the bloody stuff you could be excused for thinking that they had not long been invented.

So BOB is into town and gets some paint. I cannot remember how much I used but what a bloody mess I used heaps of tins of this stuff. It was that thin it damn near ran down the sides onto the ground. I had to get the old man to get me some petrol out of his shed so I could wash it off. A little later, even though I had a new clutch put in the Ford the remains of the paint job did not improve the trade in price I got when I sold it and bought a little Karrier truck about 1955 vintage which was really a Hillman car with a tray.

( l flogged the spotlights and the flash sunviser off the Ford before she went to Blacks Car Yard) C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

68

I did not really want to part with the V8 but just keeping the petrol tank wet without a job was a real issue and what with shooting a cockie’s bull, nearly shooting Ken, being half pie blamed for Ken’s behaviour by Mum, and her threatening us with the police I decided it was time to bugger off . but before i go All this talk today about boy racers as if it has never happened before. One Sunday Ken and I took the mufflers off our cars and are racing up and down this straight bit of road outside HER MAJESTY’S gate, HER BLOODY HIGHNESS is soon out there making more noise than we were.

Yelling about us disturbing the peace "et cetera" and she was going to call the Police and get the Traffic Cops on to us. Mum never got Dad to do her dirty jobs for her; she always did them herself.

These are the big time hunters that shot a cockies bull and a poor bloody goat that nobody would eat.

In Saturday’s paper, I found a job on a sheep farm at Mokauiti. Rang up, had a talk to the guy, he had a good laugh when I told him about Kinleith; and gave me the job. So I packed up my gear loaded up the Karrier piled the dogs on and was off to work for MR JOHN WALKER, ESQUIRE..

I wonder if young Kenny would have been in such a hurry to thump dad in Trieste in May 1945

DAD Alec Simmonds

Goodbye, Mum Dad Ken & Margie. hello John Walker Esquire; C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

69

Chapter 15

JOHN WALKER

5100 words

When I get to Walkers’ it’s off the Te Kuiti \Taumarunui main road about three miles from a place called Mokauiti. This was another job taken over the phone without a formal interview but it sounded all right. When I finally get there, it is dark and they show me into this tiny room closed off on part of the front veranda and tell me breakfast is at about 8.30 in the morning. I am already thinking I am going to like this, this sounds like a better time to be getting up, as the old man was always up at 3.30 am with the machines on at 4.15 am.

Mum always got up and made Dad a light snack and had a cup of tea with him then went back to bed for another couple of hours.

At about 8.00 am I hear the front door on to the veranda being unlocked, and a kid shoves a bucket out the door and says Dad’s in the dunny, go down the back path and when he’s finished he will show you what to do. Now I am thinking bucket, outside dunny where is this going. Anyway, Johnny finishes his business, takes me down to a bit of a one-bale cowshed, and says, "See that cow over there" Yes, I see the cow. "Well get her into the shed and milk out 3 quarters then let that calf over there in with her, and then put them into that paddock over there." He is pointing in every direction.

Almost a paddock or a job

for every point of the compass "and after tea tonight get them back in and separate them again with them going back where they are now, OK? When you have done that, come up and we will have breakfast then go to work. With you coming off a cow farm, it should not take you long."

I get the cow milked put her in with her calf and go in for breakfast. There are five of us at this table; a big teapot, an enamel jug of milk, 4 cups, one huge enamel mug and five bowls with a hand cut slice of bread in each bowl. The amount of bread appeared to depend on the size of the person behind the bowl.

Next thing I know in the preparation of this culinary delight is the chef pours hot water straight from the jug onto the bread, and then everybody in turn pours milk in to his or her bowl, then eats the contents namely bread and milk made from the Walker recipe. That’s OK, we had bread and milk for breakfast quite often at home, [and I still like it] but ours was and still is cut up bread put in a pot covered with milk, a bit of butter with salt, and white sugar added and nearly brought to the boil. Only then does it get onto our bowls there to be garnished with cream and brown sugar, usually followed with bacon and eggs, boiled eggs, or something else. After this breakfast of bread and milk followed with a cup of tea, it was off to work or school. Maybe the breakfast menu was not quite like that but the bread and milk has always stuck in my memory.

Man this guy was a worker. I do not think they had ever had much money, but if he had later in life, he earned every penny of it. Where the house was they had at a rough guess about 70 acres, about 68 of them were nearly straight up C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

70

and down and the house, woolshed etc were on the edge of this steep hill. About four or five miles further up the road, where most of the work and consequently most of our time was spent, there was a rough block that he was developing and where I guess the money was coming from. There was an abandoned derelict house and an old woolshed up there and we spent some time repairing the shed and yards. However, about half way between the two properties, right on a corner under a high rock bluff there was a small section of land, about half an acre, which John really wanted and eventually managed to buy from the crown.

The catch was, he had to build something on it within such and such time, or otherwise the deal would fall through. John had originally intended building a new house there half way between the two farms unfortunately, at that time all the money was going on developing the top farm so eventually it would make enough money to build the house. Something had to be built almost straight away, so we spent some time there building a set of yards that surprisingly was enough to satisfy the bureaucrats.

Just as I was writing that I suddenly thought, CROWN LAND Christ I suppose the Maoris waited 150 years until some poor bugger built a fucking house there. Then some politician with a little bit of prompting gave the whole lot to a bunch of Maoris along with the 200 years back rent based on the value of the land after the house had been built FUCK me, what a bloody outfit.

There were about 400 acres of maybe 700 in grass, and not much fenced so there was not a lot of stock work to do. However, there was plenty of other work if it was too wet for stock or fencing, he would cut posts out of downed trees he found in the bush when he was hunting. Some of these big native logs would be a fair hike from where he could get his Landover, so we would walk in, up or down to where they were, cut them to lengths with a two-man saw, then blast and split them into posts and carry them out. I only went on two of these “jaunts� as he called them, and that was enough for me. John had been doing it for years and carried on with it long after I had gone.

He never seemed to get the flue or a cold after being out in all sorts of weather, because according to him the reason was he always wore a thick woollen black singlet. Whenever he got home wet, he would wring the water out of it, hang it up on the outside door handle of the bathroom, have a real hot bath dry off, and put that wet singlet back on. The idea was that after the hot bath his pores were open. A singlet, even dry, out of the drawer, would have water moisture in it. His singlet would have his sweat in it and that was what he wanted back in his body, not water. Right or wrong, I do not know but he has lived to a good age. [l think he is still alive] There were two things John did not like, and really got upset about. One was goats and the other was wasps. The place was crawling with pigs but they did not seem to worry him, I think he may have been selling pork on the Black C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

71

Market to some restaurant in Te Kuiti. Most of the new fences he had put up were electric, and where you would have used a foot post, he used a tie down chain to pull the wires down into the dip. There was always a bit of loose chain lying on the ground and when a smart, clever, educated, pig pushed under the bottom wire that was the earth wire, this bit of chain would flick up and hook onto the live wire above it then short the whole system out. After the university graduate had done that the dumb goats and all the sheep could walk though wherever they wanted to. I cannot remember why the problem was not fixed, but I am sure if it could have been fixed it would have been. Most likely, it was simply because in those days with the portable units available then, there just was not enough juice in the system to handle short circuits. He shot a few goats but knew they were helping keep the second growth bush at bay so put up with them, but did not love them at all. Electric fencing then was not as it is these days.

His other pet hate was the WASPS. He was allergic to insect stings and always carried pills to stop his throat swelling and his windpipe closing. There were huge rotten native logs lying all over the place and if he found a wasps’ nest in a bank or under a log he would ram dynamite down it and blow it to pieces. I always thought we were in more danger from his friend Mr. Noble than we were from the wasps.

Talking about Mr. Noble; before he showed me how to use dynamite to split posts or blow up wasp nests, there was this gully with a swamp down the bottom of it about 300 metres long and he says to me one day "I think we will drain this swamp, dig a drain right down it and dry it out".

Shit l am

thinking it is about time l moved on. He must have seen that I was not exactly delighted about this drain, so he says don’t worry he will get his mate Mr. Noble to help him, and they will have it done in no time, then he will just get me to give him a hand to tidy it up. A couple of days later he drops me off up the farm a bit and gives me about a two-hour job and says "when you are finished come down the track above the swamp", and he would introduce me to his friend Mr. Noble. I finished what I had to do and go down the track wondering where Noble was, because I had not seen any other vehicle come in. I get down there and here is Johnny sitting there having a smoke, on his own. Trousers wet up to his knees, nobody else in sight. Where is this Noble guy? I say. Johnny grins and flicks a switch on a box thing I had never seen before. God Almighty there is this huge muffled sort of Bang! There’s mud, logs, eels by what seemed the thousand, hunks of bull rushes and God only knows what else flying through the air in every direction.

"Meet Mr. Noble" he says. Of course, Noble is the person who invented dynamite. We spent about an hour down there with hooked rake things that were made to clean drains out, and were home for lunch at the normal time. Valerie says, "How you do like Mr. Noble".

C robberteebobs books

l thought the guy was bloody revised and reprinted Feb 2013

72

marvellous. She had been living with him for years and like most of the neighbours was always expecting John to blow himself up. Before I had arrived there, he had cut about fifteen acres of ti tree

probably why the last

worker had left and it was nicely dried and ready to burn. Up the other end of the block, there were about eighty acres of cut-over bush that he reckoned would burn good as well. We light these two fires. Now when I was at Griffins, Lorrie and I had sprayed some scattered gorse on a hillside of about twenty acres.

Bob had a couple of backpack flamethrowers and he and I spent what I thought was two glorious days setting fire to this bit of gorse. However, this enterprise here at Walker’s was of a much grander scale. They both were amazing burns and Johnny was well pleased. We walked over the ti tree block, sowed the grass seed, and put on the fertilizer by hand, but he had the bush block seed and fertilizer flown on because the bigger trees and logs had not burnt and there were hot holes throughout the block.

People like John Walker may appear to take huge risks but in fact, he was a careful and cautious man. He knew that if he could not provide for his family tomorrow they all would suffer for it.

J ohn knew what the

consequences of your actions means.

I have always liked old machinery and parked up behind the woolshed was this old 1940 bren gun carrier, we carted this fertilizer and grass seed from the end of the road where the local carrier had left it as far as the land rover could go, then put a few bags on to this thing. I thought it was well pukkarood but he fired it up and we were away. They had a V8 engine right at the back end and only carried a light payload so they went up hill pretty good, but the trouble was when you got to the top the front would keep going up, until there was only about two feet of track left on the ground, then down she came, bang. That is why you could not put too much weight in the front, because when it came down the impact would take out the little bit of suspension that there was, as well as your teeth. It saved us having to carry the bags up the hill and I thought it was great fun.

John was a very keen hunter, every few years he went to South Africa, and he and the local storekeeper went away somewhere every year for the roar. It was while he was away deer stalking that I decided to cut the big heavy well-side type deck of the Karrier and make a more conventional truck type deck. By now, I had moved out of the homestead and moved up to the old house up at the top block. There was no power up there but the phone had never been disconnected but left on as a safety thing if it was ever needed, that’s not quite right either, it had been disconnected from the system but he had rigged it up between the two houses. I had enough of milking the cow, getting in wood, etc and when he did not want to go up to the top farm I would be sent over to the woolshed to crush dags with a C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

73

hammer and cut the wool out of them with a pair of scissors. Exactly

we did with our dags years later.

what

It was a bit rough up there all right; sheep, cattle, goats, and pigs had all used it as temporary accommodation over the twenty years it had been empty.

Most of the glass and doors were missing. John was opposed to me going up there to start with he SAID it was not fit to live in. I THOUGHT the reason was that he would have to up my wages a bit. There was a set rate that the farmer could hold back for board and I did not think the breakfasts were measuring up, although the other meals more than made up for it. The whole floor was about two inches deep in shit and dirt I cannot say mud because to make mud you need water, and the roof did not appear to leak. Well I spend a bit of time up there nailing up all the rooms I did not need. I shovelled out the floor as best I could without throwing the floor out as well, cleaned out the tank and waited for it to rain. One thing I was grateful to some bugger for was that there were NO FLEAS, there was just nothing there for the little sods to eat and with no doors, or windows it was just too bloody cold and windy for them. After a bit of rain I decided there was enough water in the tank so I moved in. Because my previous conditions were, BOARD AND FOUND, which meant tucker, and a Bed with blankets. Most of my blankets by now been used for saddle blankets or torn up for one thing or another, well that is not stopping me. There were no dog kennels up there, so some of the dogs slept inside, some outside. If it got too cold it was get up here, and they all would pile on top of me what an act!

Remember there is still no dog dosing; the biggest part of these bastards diet was raw mutton, goats, opossum, and guts of all sorts. I listen to them talking about hyadatis and often wonder about those days. Well this dirty floor is getting on my wick, so with all these goats roaming all over the place I start seeing them as maybe tucker * dog meat * carpets * blankets ? yes this is going good. I still could not bring myself to eat them, but the dogs did and the floor was looking better but not too many were of good enough quality to go on as blankets. Still too much fat and meat, on them and as it went rotten before it dried out they never lost their smell. However, the joint was looking a lot better.

The dogs were kicked out and I had scored a couple of blankets off the old Sheila down at the store, but one really cold night I boot the door open and it’s get up here time again. By about 10 pm everyone has sorted out which part of the bed we were having, and I go to sleep warm as a bug in a rug. At about 2.30 am I wake up freezing cold. There is not a bloody dog on me, but there is plenty of snarling and carrying on going on, and I think (Christ

the term home invasion had been thought up)

this was before

but that’s what I thought was happening, and my loyal faithful dogs were keeping me from goodness only knows what sort of fate.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

74

l get a candle going and here are these bastards on the floor tearing to bits and eating my goat-skin carpet.

About this time, there was a new porridge on the market called instant porridge, now even I know today you can put porridge in a plate with some cold water then put it in the microwave and HEY PRESTO you have porridge.

Then you had to light the old wood stove, get a pot cleaned out with cold water, mix it up, and boil the bloody stuff, it was a mission. Hence, when the old Sheila down at the store tells me how good this stuff would be for me, I buy some and it is brilliant alright, just put it on the plate and tip some boiling water on it and HEY PRESTO, you have porridge. A bit of condensed milk on it, a bit in the cup and you are set; tea and porridge marginally better than bread and milk.

MENU,

Special for the day, tomorrow, and the next day

BREAKFAST; Hot Porridge. Dinner; Cold Meat or Cold Stew. Tea: Hot Meat or Hot Stew. Tea, hot or cold or water served with all meals. Apart from watercress, all vegetables are extra [if available.] BEATS me how I survived, but I was never crook there.

lt must have been the air, because one look in the water tank and you would know it could not be the water.

One day when Valerie phones me up and tells me John is away for a few days and has not set any work for me, I ask if it would be alright if I come down to the shed and did some work on my truck. She said that was fine, so down I go and start taking this deck to pieces but find out it’s bolted together with 3/8 th inch coach bolts and made out of 4x2 timber covered with thin steel. I get all the steel off, but when I try to undo the bolts, they turned around and it is hard to hold the head of a coach bolt. Now John did not have much in the way of tools, and I could not find any vice grips or anything to hold these bolt heads with; however, up high on a shelf there were these big heavy axes. They were tightly wrapped up in old oily cloth and it looked like they had been there for years, however I could not fail to notice that they were really sharp Yep- this will do me.

They went through those bolts like a hot knife through butter; a few chips out of the blade, but it looked like bugger all to me. Wrapped them up and put them away. I spent the rest of the day and the next making the new deck, and was pleased with it. A couple of days later Valerie phones and says John is back and has seen his axes, and he will not be up for a few days and I’m to go down on Thursday morning. It turns out that years earlier John was into competition log chopping, and nearly every evening he went over to the shed took his axes down sharpened, oiled and damn near talked to them. They were up high so his son did not hurt himself with them, she says he is a bit upset, but would be fine by C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

75

Thursday. Thursday morning I go down expecting to have my employment terminated in a civilized manner now that he has had a couple of days to get over it. No. He tells me that I had done a good job on my truck, and not to worry about paying the guy for the timber as he would take care of it. NO need to worry about the axes either, because he had not had a real reason to sharpen them for ages. Apparently, he enjoyed sharpening them as much as using them and got real satisfaction from putting them back as they were. I felt a real miserable sod a few weeks later, when I moved on.

I had been there about six weeks when a letter arrived from Kinleith that Mum had posted on to me, and inside was a cheque for ÂŁ 18 some shillings and a few pence. That was what I was due after deductions plus holiday pay etc. I was not getting much more than that a month on the farm and then wished I had stuck it out at Kinleith bit longer.

John might have been a hard man to some people but he had turned fifty not long before I went there, and according to the cocky next door, every one of the people who had worked for him came to his party. I often wondered maybe the reason I did not hear about his sixtieth was that he thought I might not go and did not want to spoil his record. Shit, I have just picked something up about his age "HOW ABOUT YOU CLEVER BUGGERS?" On page 67, l said l

thought he was still alive, however going on when his fiftieth birthday was, and this being 2009, that is nearly 100 years.

One day John is showing me his rifles and I see this old .303 single shot lever action thing that had seen action in Africa in the Boer war. I want this gun and he sells it to me for ten shillings. It was that worn out the bullets would tumble end over end as they flew on their way, but if you hit something when it was going over it made a hole about an inch across and would stop anything. So not being up with gun law and thinking that there could not be any more cops like the two at Kawerau, I go into the police station at Te Kuiti and tell this fellow I want to buy a gun from my boss. He gives me a form to fill in and tells me I will have to go back and get the number of the barrel. In my ignorance about this matter, I tell him I have the gun out in my truck. Shit you would think the place had come under attack from somewhere, thank god they did not have the armed offenders’ s as they have today! One guy fires me into a chair and sat on me, the other one tore outside and nearly took the Karrier to pieces looking for this gun and brings it inside and threatens to arrest me for not having a licence, which is what I am here to get HELLO, ANY ONE HOME! It took a while and a phone call to John to sort it out. I should have got a permit to buy the gun first, and then taken it in to them to register it. After they calmed down and I stopped shaking, they took the two shillings and six pence or whatever it was to register a bloody gun, gave me my bit of paper and every one was happy. Talk about over reacting it took a long time for me to talk to a fucking policeman after that. They gave me C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

76

a cup of tea and helped put my gear back in the truck. John was well liked and respected around there and I think he must have made a couple of phone calls.

It was about this time that carriers were starting to get into trailers and the local carrier was no different. This guy had a six-wheeled COMMER and he hooked a two-axle trailer on to it, but there was a good pull up out of the Mokauiti valley then over Mount Messenger as they were carting stock to Waitara, and the Commer could not manage it. He got hold of an eight cylinder Cadillac engine that had been running a sawmill and as it was already fitted with an auto gearbox, they managed to rig it up under the trailer then run it in tandem with the Commer. Unfortunately, as it used more fuel than the truck and only saved one driver’s wages, it was not too successful, nevertheless; the guy must be given top marks for ingenuity. They did not have to wait long; they soon had Leyland's, and bigger Internationals and a few others, bigger makes. I may have been shepherding but I was as interested in trucks then as I have always been.

Nan and Dah Donaldson lived at Waitara which was not far away, and came up to see me one Sunday, and were so horrified to see the conditions I was living in they told MUM and she started to put the pressure on me to leave that horrible place, and go back to the Lands and Survey. I had just about had enough, mainly because of the poor wages and yes, the job was not hard, but yes, it was rough all right. I went into the Survey office in Taumarunui and saw the Senior Field Officer, a real gent who most of the time wore a silk cravat around his neck, felt hat in the winter, and a straw hat in the summer, MR GUY ROE. He told me that Derek Foster the manager on Waikino Block on the western side of Lake Taupo was battling it out on his own. It was a new block, no power no decent access, but it did have the phone on because the road into it was a Post and Telegraph access road. Another job taken unseen, Guy rang Derek and I had a bit of a talk to him, got the job, and was to start as soon as possible. Back to Johnny Walker’s, told him I was moving on, worked out my notice and loaded up the truck and off to Waikino Block, about 130 km. A fair trip for the Karrier loaded up like it was. I went back and saw the Walkers a couple of times. One time I bought a big black mare off him and Daphne and Raewyn went over with me and hauled it back in the float, behind the Vanguard. The bloody thing ended up feeding the dogs for a couple of weeks (chapter 10) I ran into him at the TE KUITI sale yards twenty years later when I was managing for FJ RAMSEY LTD chapter 24 and bought a pen of cattle off him.

The saying that horses and dogs are man’s best friends must be a bit worrying for them when you think about it. When 99% of horses end up spending their retirement in a cat food tin looking out and 99% of dogs spend theirs looking up from the bottom of an offal hole with either a needle in their necks or a bullet through their heads. It makes you get a bit worried about retiring at 65 and maybe it would be a good idea to stretch it out to 70 years C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

77

and get over the 60-year thing. (chapter 01)

Goodbye

John Walker ,

PS. The acreage of John Walker's farms will not be dead

right as it is only a guess all these years later.

The rabbit means I am going to deviate from the

story somewhat.

About the Commer and trailer on the last page. It was not unusual on a steep section of road to unload the trailer at some cockies yards at the bottom of a hill. Tow the empty trailer up.

Transfer the cows from the truck to the trailer. Go back down put the trailer load on to the truck, back up the hill, hook on the trailer and carry on to the next good hill. (traction was just as big a problem as hp.)

It was a cut down and beat up bren carrier that John used on the farm as a fert carrier.

All the old girls like these trucks and all the old jokers that drove them, have not been given the credit they are due for the stuff they moved around this country.

Strange as it may seem to some the modern trucks just do nothing for me, in fact, I will go further and say the amount of whatever they are carting up and down this country especially at night in the bloody dark is bloody ridiculous. If its imports why not ship it to the place that wants it, if it is manufactured goods why make ever-bloody thing at Auckland then truck it south. If you have a smart assed reason for trucking it south, let us hear it. Why is it not on a revamped rail system? Personally I think we should go back to the old 'can't cart more than 30 miles ( 50 km ) against the rail without a court approved licence, and bring back the black & whites while you are at it.

l am finish and out from the rabbit hole so it's now hello Waikino Block

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

78

Chapter 16

WAIKINO BLOCK

10500 words

Waikino Block was about 2000 acres and not long developed, the whole block had been crushed, burnt, sown almost in one hit, fenced and buildings up, then stocked all reasonably quickly so everything was near new.

Right up the western side of Lake Taupo, there are large plateaus on bluffs 200 to 300 feet above the water, with areas of flat land running down to water level, onto nice open beaches. Some of this land had been dairy farmed many years previously with the cream being pack-horsed down to the bays to go with the cream from the flat blocks, then by boat to Taupo. Waikino was all up on a plateau with no lake access, but there was an extremely hazardous track down the bluff at the southern end, and we went down there every now and again.

For some reason the survey started with the plateaus and left the flat areas.

I think they may have been Maori land; anyway, some of the old buildings were still in the bush with trees growing through them. One house was wall papered with newspapers of the time and I spent a lot of time in it reading the news and advertisements for saddles and horse-drawn farm equipment. The only problem was that there was a huge bee's nest in one room and they considered the whole house was theirs.

The manager Derek Foster had been the senior shepherd up the road on Waihaha block, he had moved up through the ranks to Waikino when it was started. He was a single guy of about thirty years and we got on well, on and off the job. He gave me a room in the house and a bed and mattress from the shearers’ quarters. He had all the other gear we needed and it was a big change from the living conditions on my previous jobs. Derek was a STOCKMAN so this time I got decent horses and plenty of stock work. When I arrived he was busy drafting sheep on his own, not an impossible job, but not one you would want to do all the time without help, and he was pleased to see me arrive.

Soon after I arrived, I headed home for a weekend and got as far as Whakamaru when the Karrier broke a conrod. There was and still is a garage on the corner at Whakamaru right where it happened and the garage owner helped me push it into his workshop took the sump off and pulled and cut the bits of piston etc out. Then put a hose clamp around the crankshaft to keep the oil pressure up, fired her up and told me to head back to Waikino. Now this Western Access road was not the highway it is now. It was just a dirt track the P&T (post

and telegraph)

used it to service the phone line. The motor was that unbalanced and underpowered with a whole piston missing, the thing shook like a dog just out of water. Each time I arrived at the bottom of a hill I had to sit there and build the revs up to maximum, put it in first gear, drop the clutch, and hope we had enough to reach the top. We, the truck and me got back to the block but what a trip. Derek helped me get another piston. He ground the crankshaft with C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

79

the back of his shoeing rasp and a file, filled it up with the thickest oil we could find and towed it all the way into Taumarunui with his Land Rover. When I presented it to a car yard the guy says why is the oil pressure light on? The motor must be shot. Shit no, I have just driven it all the way from Kuratau and because I was going to sell it, had changed the oil. The only oil we had at home was 10/15 grade for the pumps and it was too thin but if he put some 30/40 in, it would be fine. He says well if you have driven it all that way it will probably be all right. Every time he asked me an iffy question about the Karrier, I asked him how much this or that car he had in his yard was. I know he could not have stayed in that business if he believed what I told him, but he gave me what I thought was a good price so I was happy but car-less, and of course broke. what i got derek took it off what was in his book.

Next stop, the restaurant where we always had tea when we were in town and the Sheila says "The usual?" Derek says, "That is right". We always had a dozen poached eggs and a quart of ice cream each. We had a look in the shops, bought the fortnight’s tucker then back to Waikino. The road in over the Hauhungaroa Range was that dusty we always wore work clothes to town, and went over to the washroom at the railway station, had a wash, got changed but always went home in our good clothes and made sure that they were cleaned up by next payday.

The deer and pigs were so abundant on the block in those days it was almost unbelievable. Derek and I could get home from work, let the horses go, tie up, and feed the dogs. One of us would go inside and by the time the fire in the stove got going and the fat in the pan was ready the other one would be back with just the back steaks off a deer.

Sunday, 13 April 2008 l was talking to Derek last night and he tells me that he does not remember being able to get the steaks that quick, but if l spent a couple of minutes cutting the kindling first then that would have given him enough time.

We never had much trouble with pigs tearing up grass or worrying the sheep because all the boundary fence was new, however there were big what we called guts where the rain water had washed huge amounts of pumice away and left these big holes. They always had steep vertical sides, nothing could get up them, and after a while, they settled down and did not wash out any more. Of course, when they first washed out, the fence went with the pumice. Derek got the fencer to repair the fence across the bottom of the gut and they put a guillotine type trap door on it. We would drop all the dead stock into these guts and creep up there at nighttime, pull the rope on the trapdoor and put the spotlight down there. MAN pigs would be as thick as maggots. We would shoot a heap of them then open the gate and go home. The rest of the pigs would carry C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

80

on as if nothing had happened. A year or so later after they started buying venison, we had to start hunting to find the deer, they just disappeared almost overnight. They were not all shot just like that but their grazing patterns were interrupted so they were no longer in the places we had always seen them.

Derek had a normal head of hair but for some reason even up to this day I do not know why he was known just as well as Baldy, so from now on Derek, and Baldy is the same guy. Baldy was a bit of a moneylender and he kept all the peoples' names who owed him money in a book. He did not lend much money as such but he would sell people things and put their name in his book. Therefore, it was not long before my name was in the book, horses, dogs; you name it I had bought it from Derek. Anyway I have now got no wheels, so one day he tells me that he’s got this 1951 Vanguard car that he’s going to repossess and do I want it.

HELL YES ! where do I sign, so in the book it goes at so much a week

No! Jack did not go with the truck.

REO

MAUDE & MEG

TIPPY

SPEED

SOUVENIR

MOST OF THEM

FLOE

These 2 photos were taken at Elstow when I went Home for my 21st Birthday [all the dogs went for the ride and to have a couple of days off] Can you see the stones in the bottom right corner in the PAKEHA'S Hangi Pit in GOLDIE’S photo ?. see the fowl in the background of souvenir’s photo.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

81

Derek always had poultry, turkeys or something like that wherever he has been, and after living as I had been and on what I had been for a while, you have no idea what Derek’s cooking was like.

Talk about Gordon Ramsey,

Jamie Oliver, and the rest of these TV cooks. Derek would get a whole chook I do not know if he cut them up, pulled them to pieces, or put them in whole, but man, that chook stew was bloody marvellous. Sorry mum, Daphne, and anyone else who is a bit annoyed because they thought their chook stews were the best; NO, I am sorry but Derek’s were better.

SOUVENIR Was a palomino gelding 3 years old when I bought him off Derek and we covered a lot of ground together, he was a bright spark; drafting cattle, chasing brumbies, just leading him down the road behind a mob was never boring. I always had biscuits or chocolate in my pockets and if, as I said, I was walking along, he would sometimes be that busy looking for something to eat with his head that far inside my shirt or coat, time after time, he would plonk a foot down on a spur. When I went down, he would just about fall on top of me. It was a sorry day when he went. When you sell something that the day before you thought you would never part with, at the time what you are buying is MORE important, Souvenir and his Dad helped pay for the Ford Truck FLOE There is not much I can remember about Floe except she had a badly twisted left shoulder and looked awkward as she ran but she got around all right. However, when I first started working her it did not matter what the whistle was or what I said or how loud I shouted, I just could not stop her. One day she was tearing somewhere and I could see that it was going to cause a balls' up and she was not taking any notice of what I was trying to get her to do. I just yelled JESUS CHRIST and she stopped on a dime. After that every time I wanted her to stop it was not one whistle to stop like the rest; no with FLOE it was BIBLE LESSON TIME. MAUDE Like Floe there’s not much I can remember about her except the dog in the (most of the pack photo) with her tail up is one of hers, and like Maude was nothing out of the ordinary. I could never stand dogs that got around with their tails up in the air so her career would not have lasted long. I have seen jokers do all sorts to try and get the tails to stay down, but I think it's like another thing, that if it thinks it is time to go up, it goes up and there’s not a lot to be done about it.

TIPPY He really has had enough already said about him and as he is around until chapter 12 we will not spend too much time here with him. You know he came off a Survey Block at Tauranga You know he’s a bit like the song I'VE BEEN EVERYWHERE MAN ; TAIHAPE C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

82

TE KUITI ,TAUMARUNUI, all over etc; etc. However, I will reiterate as a working dog he was pretty bloody useless; his idea of a good day's work was one when he had spent most of it sitting in a water trough.

SPEED I do not know which one he was so cannot say anything. With the exception of JIP, that BOB GRIFFINS gave me and one other I bought when we left Waharoa and one from Phil Rowe that I took as part payment for something every heading dog I ever had was a border collie; every male one was called SPEED and every female one was called FLY. [There have been a few of them] With the exception of those three all the rest have come from either ROGER BEDFORD or DEREK FOSTER or from the dogs that descended from those two gentlemen’s dogs.

REO My brother Ken buys this horse from somewhere and had trouble keeping it where he was, so I agreed to buy it off him if he delivered it to Waikino. Now I did not really want this half-baked race horse and think that there is no way the young bugger can get a horse from Te Aroha to the other end of Lake Taupo. Well the next thing I know is that he and the horse will be at Taumarunui on such and such day. Shit, he has called my bluff, what am I going to do now? Baldy comes to the rescue because as it happens KT Transport are coming out to a block up the road the next day to pick up something, so he gets on the phone and it's all organized just like that ‘sweet as’. Well the driver goes around to the rail yards to pick up Ken and the horse, but they have had a rough trip. They had been shunted all over the place; Ken reckoned every time he lay down on the bunk in the horse wagon they would slam the wagon down a track onto another train and he and the horse were thrown from end to end so many times they both were covered in bruises and blood. KT Transport got the railways to sign a docket saying that the damage to man and beast occurred on the train, and not on their truck. Anyway, KT did not charge us anything to bring them all the way out from Taumarunui, which was good of them.

Ken stayed awhile and we had a good week or so hunting and whatever we were doing at the time. One day we were riding around the edge of a gully and there are couple of pigs out. The dogs saw them and they are off. Ken and I tie up the horses and take off down this gully behind the dogs, and met the dogs coming out just as fast as we are going in. Straight into a little clearing and under a bit of a bluff where the dogs had bailed it up was the meanest skungiest old boar I had ever seen. Now remember the dogs had sized the situation up and decided that it was not worth the trouble and were on the way out, but no we need to have a bit of a talk about this, so some of the dogs decided to see what was going to happen next and came back. They did not have long to wait, as soon as the pig saw them he charges straight at the dogs that we did not know were C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

83

just behind us, so we shot up a couple of skinny trees. The dogs have now decamped and are gone, so the pig is now rooting around our trees. Now we take stock of our situation. My knife is in my saddlebag. Ken has something from Woolworth’s, a big flash looking thing, so he cuts off a branch and pokes it over towards me and says tie your boot laces on the stick and he would use them to tie his knife to the stick, and use his laces to tie two sticks together and spear this bloody pig. Well I did not want to sleep up a tree, so sanctioned this course of action. Ken drops his hat on the ground, piggy comes charging over, Ken thrusts down with his lance straight into the pig and it seems to have gone in pretty deep. The pig squeals Ken hangs onto the stick and the tree; the pig swings around and "what happens?. No the pig is not dead, just gone. Ken has a stick with a knife handle tied to it the bloody blade has broken off. Well the pig is gone and so are we. I have heard all these pig-hunting stories too,

don't believe

everything you hear about guys sticking pigs.

About this time while Ken is there Baldy’s mate, an old Dalmatian guy from Northland comes down to do some bird shooting, but he apparently always brings a lot of half gallon flagons of his wine with him. Derek calls it Tangle foot and the pair of them spent the whole time he was there under the influencedrunk-pissed-crook- inebriated call it what you like but there was bugger all pheasants- quail- ducks or anything else shot.

I have just remembered this, they had some earthmovers in to form an airstrip just down below the house, we had sowed the grass seed on this thing by hand, and I had had enough of it and got a bit rebellious. Next day Baldy tells me to go to some paddock, muster it up, and bring the sheep back to this airstrip paddock. OK that is no big deal; I get them back to the airstrip paddock. Then he tells me, as he was not very impressed with yesterday’s performance I am to walk these sheep up, down, around, and around this bloody airstrip and consolidate the ground to his satisfaction with their feet. Now this mob contains about half the sheep on the place at the time and the more I grizzled the longer he kept me at it. Imagine if you can about 2000 odd ewes walking around and around in this bloody dust bowl. Eventually he decided the ground was hard enough, or some other job was more important, or may be I might bugger off while my name was still in his book, anyway the sheep go back to their paddock, and my lesson in doing what Baldy says without me moaning has been completed. The trouble was the phone goes that night and the shearers have been held up somewhere else, and will be here tomorrow. Baldy realizes straight away that the wool is going to be so full of pumice and dirt that questions are going to be asked and answers required, maybe not in Parliament but sure enough in Taumarunui and they were, but I do not know what was said. However, a few years later when we were back together on Te Kopia Block he ripped the proverbial out of me for getting some sheep muddy when I was bringing them into the yards for shearing.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

84

We had a lot of fun at work but some days he would be acting the goat, then tomorrow he would be I am the Boss, but I guess you have to pull young fellows back into line every now and then.

Baldy liked to get on the piss every now and then, this time we had been somewhere helping on another block, and the back of the LAND ROVER was full of dogs. We go up to this manager’s house and by ten or so head home, Baldy is drunk as a skunk, and I am crook and half-asleep in the front. We stop very fast, and then I am on the floor in the front and the dogs and gear all over me. I struggle up, and the two ends of the middle of the gate are pointing up in the air, the two original ends are still attached to the gateposts with the gate chain and the hinges and Mr Foster is moaning about the bloody gate. He had forgotten about it and driven straight into it. Derek sobered up, I was sick, the dogs sorted themselves out, we tie the gate up with a bit of wire and toddled off home about a another mile, and decided it had been a good day.

Some places there where the water ran down the bottom of a gentle gully and did not run too fast it would get underground and wash out the pumice, then form what we called tomos. We frequently found stock down them sheep we could pull out, but cattle had to have a track dug down to them so they could walk out. These caverns could extend a fair way, however as they went deeper they got lower so we never went right to the end of any we explored, but every one we went down had dead sheep in them, many walked down these holes and were never found. Every year Waikino was sheep short at stock check, and eventually Derek left because of the problem. I know that one-day one-ear McCain the superintendent from Te Kuiti was there, and practically the next day Derek was not. I never really knew what the guts of it was or what happened, but I do know he did not steal any sheep or anything like that. I am sure more went

About Jim McCain the Superintendent with the missing ear, everybody thought it was a big joke, me included, but l can tell you l did not think it was such a huge joke a few years ago when l lost half of my left ear to some sort of cancer. down those tomos than we ever thought.

We had stock die like anywhere else but because the old Ford tractor was broken down more than it was going, sometimes it was hard to get dead stock out of sight and tow them over to and down a tomo. One morning we knew the field officer was coming out, so I go up to start a pump along a road the boss man would drive along, and shit here is a dead cow by the road in full view, you would have to be blind not to see it. I tell MR FOSTER and guess what, he tells me to get a shovel and bury it, a 1000 lb cow. You have to be joking—no, get on with it. I knew it had to be done so I dig this big hole as close to the deceased cow as I can, Derek had finished doing some other thing and came up to see how it C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

85

was going. He reckoned the hole was big enough I was happy to agree, we roll the cow over. Flat on her back shit o dear her belly is level with the ground and her stiff legs are poking straight up. Panic stations, no time to muck around so he flies back to the yard and comes back with a roll of barbed wire and says let’s see how much of a sense of humour old Dave has got. We pulled the legs up as straight as we could and wrapped the barbed wire around from leg to leg a couple of times and bugger off to the woolshed. Later on Field Officer DAVE arrives at the shed, and from the direction he came from we know he has been past boot hill. He and Derek do the business, and Dave is gone in his old MOT Mark 1 Zephyr, Derek says the BUGGER never said a word about the cow. We could not believe he had not seen it, so we go over there, and find out there is nothing wrong with Dave’s sense of humour as he had dug out a scotch thistle in full flower and stuck it on top of the cow's belly.

In the early days when blocks were always short of staff and field officers were taken from the blocks, the managers had some incentive to work towards; consequently, the farm staff were more likely to do things by the book. Like at stock checks when all the stock had to be mustered and driven to the yards, counted there then returned to their paddocks. Later on when the Field Officers came from Massey University and the like, Farm Manager was as far as most of us could go. Some managers started cutting corners and were not taking all the stock back to the yards, just the right amount to make the new scam work. If there were 1000 ewes on the books these guys worked it so the counters counted 100 ewes, 10 times all present and correct, signed the book and were gone it did not take long for someone to spill the beans or be caught out.

Ok you clever buggers, new rules.

This year the counters will go around the block and the staff will muster the stock to certain gates, and then count only through those gateways. Now that was fine and it was do-able, but the trouble was that Baldy and myself had been spending a lot of time down at National Park catching wild horses, ½ breaking them in while doing the survey's work and being paid to do it. Then selling them to Wrightson's for twenty-five pounds each then Wrightson's sold them back to the Lands and Survey.

Now Waikino owned a few of these horses, but we had a fair mob of them on the block most of which were illegal immigrants and as that implies were not supposed to be there. We could catch four or five in a weekend and they took a couple of months to get ready before we could get them away to their new owners. Furthermore, we could only get them off as quickly as Wrightsons could sell them, and with our annual stock check due, we had a problem. Waikino was surrounded with scrub and open country so we couldn’t stick them out there, eventually Baldy comes up with the solution and decides that on the day of the check I will be on leave, urgent like, and he will tell the FO C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

86

in charge of the count that I had to go to a family funeral, and with getting ready for the count has not done the paperwork (it’s only a little scam). We get this mob of about fifteen, horses gathered up into one paddock and while you might think 15 is bugger all you try moving a bunch of horses though big paddocks on your own.. Every time you open or shut a gate, they would spread out and had to be gathered-up again. On stock check day I moved our horses one way and Baldy came around behind me mustered the stock back to the other end so the counters were always two paddocks back from me.

What an act, but we got away with it. However, by next year the horse dealing business was history because some bloody * Girl Guide type of shepherd fell off a half- broken horse and was hurt. The stock agent’s boss found out so that scam was finished But we had a lot fun catching horses in there between Tongariro and Kuratau along the Kuratau River. Derek and I both had double horse floats and we could bring two back with our horses but if we caught more than two at a time it was difficult getting them home. Going out catching two and getting them home was a good weekend. * There is plenty of first class female shepherds around, and truck drivers for that matter, many of whom many have been GIRL GUIDES for all I know.

A LITTLE THING FOR YOU TO PONDER: in the last two paragraphs, I used the word, scam, three times however the grammar check thingy on this computer underlined them on the first and third time and wanted to replace scam with either, fraud or swindle. However in the case of the holidays it was quite happy to merely call it a scam, on reflection I now agree that yes maybe the first one about deceiving the counters was a bit of a swindle, but not really bad enough to be called so. In the third instance, I really think to refer to it as a fraud or swindle is a bit strong so I altered none of them. WHAT DO YOU THINK?

Another yarn about dead stock is this one. Again, the Boss man was due out and Derek really wanted to impress this guy. Today we were docking this small mob of a couple of hundred lambs, right beside the road up to the woolshed. He timed it so we would be right in the middle of the job when Dave arrived and he would not be able to get him to go too far away or hold us up, but he could see how good a show Derek was running. All is going well then all of a sudden for no particular reason they all mob up in a bit of a hole down one end of this yard, and up against the road fence. This resulted in about fifteen or twenty dead smothered lambs, no really big deal as long as they are out of sight.

Later they could have just been thrown on the Ute and dumped down a hole. In those days, we only had the old Fordson and a big trailer that would have still been half loaded with docking gear and what have you, so it was quicker to dig a bloody hole.

The next part is much the same as the cow beside the road a while ago. He sends this fellow down to dig a hole, and he buries these lambs. Yes job done and it looks all right from where we are up the other end. Shit it is getting hotter and hotter and later and later finally Dave is here, we are finished, the lambs are out C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

87

of sight, job looks good, they are talking about lambing percentages and what have you. Baldy makes sure Dave is facing away from the bit of fresh dirt that he could have seen down the other end, but if the worst comes to the worst and Dave does see it then asks about it, he can tell him that is where we buried the tails. All is going to plan, then Derek's face starts going, RED, then GRAY, and then WHITE, Dave turns around and sees this heap of bloated dead lambs rising out of the ground at about 2 inches per minute. Christ almighty what the FUCK has been going on here, he reckons there must be the guts of a 100 lambs buried there. However, once we had dug them up and he counted them and agreed that there was under twenty and these things happen he told Derek that the lazy bastard down the road would not have bothered to bury them. So all’s well that ends well.

The survey had hundreds of one-cylinder diesel motors to run everything, water pumps, woolsheds, sheep dips everything that today runs on electricity.

None of us shepherds could ever fix one if they broke down today one could not find a simpler motor. One day one of the big water-cooled ones would not go, so Derek says, "you know if that idiot in town can fix the things I do not see why we cannot." Right, we have a couple of crescent spanners, two big pipe wrenches, a big hammer, a small hammer and some screwdrivers. Well before we could get it to go again, we had to put it together again. We finally agree that the bugger in the garage was smarter than both of us put together but Baldy reckons we have done half of the jokers work for him and SOD him. We take this thing completely to pieces everything that could be taken apart was, it is fired into the back of the Land Rover all mixed up and taken into Taumarunui. The mechanic reckoned there must be about three motors there going on the size of the heap we left on his shed floor. I forget what was wrong with it but most likely bugger all.

The sheep yards were about a mile from the house and the cattle yards were about two miles away. Sometimes to liven up the day when we went home for lunch one of us would get a long handled shovel, stand on it, tie a rope low down on the handle and hang on to it a bit higher up. Then the guy on the horse would hook it on to his saddle and off we would go. What a ride. You had to keep your eyes shut because a horse throws up a fair amount of dirt stones etc off its feet when it is barrelling along. It was great fun, sort of like water skiing or shit skiing like hanging onto the cows' tails behind the cowshed in chapter 05 it might have been dry but you got plastered with all sorts. Of course, the more mud etc the guy on the horse could drag you through the funnier he thought it was. Whoever was on the shovel today put up with it because he knew he would be on the horse next time.

Baldy is the boss so he spent a lot

more time on the horse than on the shovel.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

88

We spent a fair bit of time out at night spotlighting deer. Derek had a favourite possie where he would park the Land Rover, right up beside the fence on the ridge and shone the light down the fence line, if there were any deer there would tell me to hold the light still and when he said, "now� I was to turn the light off. OK that is simple enough. First time out, yes there are some deer there.

He gives me the light and says hold it steady. After about a couple of minutes a deer started to look at the light then it began to walk towards us. Derek says, "He is coming, get ready, and make bloody sure you turn the light off quick when I say so". Next thing this deer is coming straight towards the light like a moth to a flame 100 MPH. "Now!" Yells Derek, then bang. When the deer was coming down the spot light beam, it could not see the vehicle, but as soon as the light went off it would see it and shoot off to the left. Derek knew exactly where it would be and just pulled the trigger on the shotgun, he is the only person I ever saw deer stalking with a shotgun, all the same every deer that came down the light was bowled arse over kite straight down the gully. If the spotlight did not go out at exactly the right instant, the deer would either hit the truck or veer off too soon and be gone.

Today it is hard to believe that deer and pigs,

especially deer were shot and poisoned just to be rid of them. There were just too many of the then worthless animals eating the grass and spreading TB. One weekend we had gone up to Elstow to see Mum and Dad. Both Mum and my little sister Margaret thought Derek was something really special, he did not try to, but he looked like some cowboy who had just stepped out into the wrong year in the wrong country.

Anyway, we had the weekend there and were about halfway between Whakamaru and home just south of Tihoi and there is something on the track.

This end was not a road then because it was still the old P&T access road and shit, it is a brumby mare and her foal. The foal is about six months old Baldy says that is old enough to wean, now to us two big-time; brumby catchers this is too good to ignore. He stops ,tells me to sit on the bonnet and jump when I am ready, the Land Rover is tearing down the track behind these two horses, hunks of pumice and dirt flying everywhere; somehow, he gets along beside the foal. Now I was never any good at bulldogging cattle off a horse, and here is BLOODY FOSTER shouting at me that this would be just like that, jump on it. Why does he think bull dogging steers have horns SHIT OH DEAR I know this nice bit of track is not going to last so over I go. Next thing we are down and I am sitting on its head, which is the best way to hold a horse down well now we have a real problem. Have you ever put a half grown horse into the back of a short wheel based series I Land Rover? I do not think so! One thing we know for sure is we C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

89

are not leaving it here but as we had been away visiting, we were not exactly set up for this, no ropes, not even a dog collar. We get it in the Rover but can’t let it try and stand up, if it got its front legs over the seat, then where could it go, it would have wrecked the thing completely, and we still had a fair way to go. If we put it in backwards and it booted Baldy in the head we could go off the track and worse the bloody thing may shit on me. Derek comes up with the only obvious solution, which was, he would drive, and I could ride in the back with the horse and hold it down. On getting home and taking stock of the situation, it was like this; down side, was I was covered in shit and bruises; the up side was, I had half shares in a brumby foal. About a week later, we had the shearers there and a woman in the gang, a cook, or rousie fell in love with it. Derek did the deal, Mrs Marsh had a horse, and we had a few more quid each.

One time we were down towards National Park looking for horses and rode into a big clear area covered in light scrub and toitoi and right in front of us is this bunch of brumbies, could have been twenty or so. Now you might think the more the better, but no, straight away in a chase situation like this you have to decide not which one you want but which one you think your horse can run down. The more there is the harder it usually is to pick your target.

Think

about it. The ones you cannot catch are usually better than the one you end up with simply because they out ran you, it is not rocket science. So rather than bolt in, get in each other's way, and end up with having a BARNIE instead of a BRUMBY, a bit of planning is required. We have this worked out and I settled on a bay mare about fourteen hands, nice little horse. I have good gear, I have Souvenir under me, he is fast and good on his feet, Derek also is well mounted, and we are confident that we will have our two horses and be home all in one day. Derek gives the nod and it is TALLY HO THE FOX! I get in amongst them and already it is starting to go wrong, because when I cut across after my horse, I buggered up Baldy’s run, and he lost a bit of time setting up again. I was in the right position just level with and a little to the right of this mare's rump just right for me to throw; I liked to throw my rope forward and across. The rope was in the air and I looked around to make sure I knew where things were, as you needed a bit of space around, when you started to stop the caught horse. I only took my eyes off the game for a second but I felt Souvenir start to move off course. Without looking, I jerked him back and the next thing we are going down.

My horse had seen or sensed a hole, and without looking, I had pulled him back so as not to muck up the throw, next thing I know both horses and me are down.

They are up before me, the brumby hits the end of the rope, jerks Souvenir up, and both of them are bloody gone. Souvenir had never left me before but I guess the call of the wild was too much for him and they were gone. So is my MATE. Finally, Baldy comes back empty handed and clearly pissed off. The whole fiasco C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

90

was my fault, [which I now admit it was] but on the day, I do not think I saw it quite as clearly. Of course, me telling him he should have left the bloody brumby and caught my horse did not help. Well talk about the best-laid plans of mice and men, the very thing that was not supposed to happen did, no BRUMBY but a BARNIE. Now losing this horse and my gear was by no means an inconsequential thing, this was a real bloody DISASTER. We both thought the rope would come loose, fall off and Souvenir would come back looking for me.

You only sort of wrapped the rope around the saddle horn and held the end until you had the caught horse under control, just in case something went wrong. A horse or cattle beast could yank your horse down and if the rope was tied and tight, you could not let it go. You only tied it on before you got off and went down the rope to put a halter on the horse. A horse is a lot easer to control with halter than with a rope around its neck. With a halter, you can pull its head around to face you; with a rope it could turn around then it was pulling you, not a good idea. Well we both looked until dark and found no sign of him, now of course Souvenir is no longer the victim in this but the instigator of this conspiracy. I head back home and get there in the middle of the night. The only other horse I can find and catch in the dark is Goldie. Now I know that putting a stallion and a gelding in the same float is not a very good idea but that is a problem for another bloody day. The only other saddle I had was well past it but I tied it up with wire and baling twine and headed back to the bush and get a couple of hours sleep. After hunting around for a couple of hours we see him, up ahead on his own and he suddenly moves. We think shit if we have to run this SOD down it is going to be a job. Derek’s horse had done a fair bit of running on bugger all tucker and Goldie was not fast but no, Souvenir is coming straight at us. God he was like a dog that is pleased to see you, one night of being a BRUMBY was enough for him. I headed back to camp with my horses and Derek went to check a couple of snares that he had set last night and turned up at the camp about two hours later with about a six year old stallion that he later gelded and sold on. Well if you are thinking that, all's well that ends well you are wrong. We are only about three miles from home and the old Vanguard starts rocking and shaking; I stop and nearly fall out. These horses are having a free for all in the float and the first casualty is the big wrapped around perspex front. Now this float was not a wooden box on wheels as most were at the time, this was a double float I had built in Te Aroha by an engineering firm. I had got the plans out of an American horse magazine that we got bimonthly [HORSE LOVERS] The bloody thing had cost that much the old man took me in to his accountant or lawyer at Matamata and jacked me up a loan for which he had gone guarantor . It had filled in

sides half way up, then rails on the top half. The top half of the front was clear Perspex with all the rest painted light grey the same as the car and with these flash-varnished rails; when it was hooked up behind the VANGUARD with two PALOMINOS’ on board man alive, I thought the whole outfit was something I C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

91

can tell you. The vanguard hauled it along pretty good even with two horses aboard. This was high tech with a capital T because the axle could move forward or aft depending on the load. Now these bloody horses were not only kicking themselves to bits but were wrecking my pride and joy at the same time. Why they waited so long I will never know, but can only speculate maybe Goldie was pissed off at having his weekend buggered up and being dragged way to buggery down there to find his son Souvenir, or maybe he resented having to carry the old saddle while Souvenir had the good one. Maybe it was Souvenir being a smart arsed and laughing at his old dad about the old saddle who knows, but the bastards half wrecked the float and I never put a stallion in with any other horse again.

A while later we caught another roan stallion identical to the one Derek caught that weekend. When I said Derek had caught a horse in a snare, there were three methods we mainly used [a] Snare [b] Rope [c] Tailing. a, In the snare set up we would get down there scout around and locate some horses, then about two hours before dark go around and whenever we saw one give it a short fast chase; as soon as we stopped so would it and stand quietly in the scrub until dark. We then went around and set up a few snares, just a big loop between a couple of bits of scrub where a horse if just walking along would put its head down to push through, and as soon as it felt the rope would lift its head and take off. We soon learnt not to tie the rope to a tree because the horse could break its neck, so we had to find a reasonably heavy log and tie the rope to that. After spending half the night, fighting the rope and dragging the log around they were a lot easier to handle. You put a small knot on the rope so it could not slip open and come off and a big knot a bit further down so it would not strangle the horse. When the horse hit the end of the rope, the noose would pull over the small knot but not the big one. This was the best and safest way for all concerned but not much fun.

was all right for old men but not real cowboys.

lt

B, The second method was the rope, but it was the most unsuccessful. It had to have everything going for it, clear country no trees or scrub, flat no holes or high ground cover etc. This is a bit different from being in a rodeo ring, there always seemed to be a branch, or a bit of scrub in the way, or the horses too close together, you did not ever want to end up with two horses on the same rope.

C , The third method was tailing. This was good and the most thrilling way to do it. It really got the adrenalin running, but it had its down side as well, especially for the horse being tailed. You would get in, behind the horse you wanted, on its left side so your leg was level with its tail and reach over, get hold of the tail about two feet below the end of the bone. This is what Souvenir was good at, if you picked the moment when the brumby's back feet were off the ground and your horse hit it with its shoulder, just in front of the flank, with any sort of luck it would go head over heels and go down winded. You could be off, C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

92

on its head and have a halter on before it knew what had happened. This was the tricky part; you never ran back to your horse to tie the rope to it, even when you knew that the rope would reach it. Even with Souvenir who never moved or wandered off after I had bailed out, you always walked quietly up to your horse.

Run towards it and it will nearly always move and with 500 to 800 lbs of pissed off brumby just coming to his senses on the other end of your rope you did not want to be charging around trying to catch your horse. We always carried plenty of rope, as you could not during the chase, wait until you came past a good tree before you flicked the horse, it was always a tense time sitting on this horse's head trying to figure out which tree, or bit of scrub you would sprint to, it was all great fun. The down side to tailing was if you misjudged when you knocked the horse over, and it had a rear foot on the ground; sometimes it would damage the stifle joint. Some times, they came right, some times, they did not but with this method you could pick your horse. Later when I went out from Waihi Pukawa on my own I caught a few nice horses by tailing them. In chapter 10, about Waihi Pukawa there are some photos of buckskin called BUCK. Souvenir and I tailed him, he was bigger than Souvenir but we had it just right and over he went.

When Derek and I came home from these brumby catching weekends the two catching horses would go on my float and the other two would be in Derek's; it was an older solid wooden one with closed in sides and could take a fair bit of punishment. We would tie a rope down the middle front to back and hang wool packs or sacks on it, then tie bits of corrugated iron and tins on the outside. If these horses had been fighting the rope all night, then after two or three hours in there they were half broken by the time we got them home. Once we started breaking them the Boss reckoned for ÂŁ25, all we had to do was mouth them up a bit and be able to get on them.

There was no thought given to the poor bloody shepherds who ended up with them or the blacksmith who had to shoe them. I would imagine and hope Wrightsons’ got the blame.

Derek had hired a married guy as a general hand before the new house was finished and had moved this couple into the house with us but that did not suit BOB. So I dragged an old hut up past the woolshed and set up camp there.

Shit if conditions at Walkers had been rough I do not know what you would call this, but I thought it was all right. The married man only lasted about a week after I moved out and they were gone but I stayed where I was and

Bugger

Baldy he can feed his own bloody dogs, catch his own bloody

horse, light his own bloody fire, and the list goes on.

Rabbits had always been a problem on the whole western side of Taupo, even after the Maori Affairs and Survey Blocks had been established there were still quite considerable areas of scrub left between them, thousands of acres. This C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

93

year they must have eaten themselves out of house & home because MR & MRS RABBIT and all their whanau decide to move onto the blocks and try and cohabitate with the Rabbit Board, the Rabbiter's, and their dozens of dogs, along with their gas and poisons. According to the Rabbiters, the Body Count was pretty high, but on a % basis it was nothing and the little sods had WAIHAHA BLOCK to the stage where all the stock had to be moved off, the rest of the blocks around were just holding their own, so Waihaha's stock was moved right out of the district. These blocks up that side of Taupo had huge plateaus of hundreds of acres and this is where they started with the poison so that they would be able to see and get some idea of the numbers killed. All the blocks had their own airstrips and I think Waihaha had two or three as it was an unusually big block.

Tons of carrots had been stock-piled at each manure bin loading area then put through a machine that chopped them into rabbit sized bits then sprayed it all with 1080 etc. The idea was to spread strips down these plateaus a few hundred yards apart, thinking that the rabbits from outside the poisoned zones would HOP over and join their mates. When the boffins went out to do their body count they could not believe it, and I guess you won't either, but these rabbits were so thick and hungry that as soon as the their gourmet meals hit the ground they were eaten and the ones outside the drop zone did not even know they had missed out. There was a wide strip of dead rabbits then a strip of live ones all the way across the plateau. Once they had cleaned up Waihaha, they did all the other blocks. The job took months as all the stock had to be cleared off Âź of the block so the poison could be dropped on that Âź only, and left for so many days or after so many inches of rain had fallen. For months we had to work our dogs with muzzles over their noses, the first ones were leather, but some managed to tear them to bits. The next ones they gave us were these wire cages that went over most of the dog's head. The heading dogs did not take long to get used to them, but the poor huntaways did not think much of them as every time they opened their mouths to bark there was not enough room under them to get their bottom jaws open far enough.

Apart from the technical differences and the undercarriage the most visible difference to the likes of ME was the wing tips.) All the carrots I saw dropped were from either a Cessna, a Piper, or Auster. In the early sixties these small planes dropped the guts of 2 million tonnes of fert. Then for a while competed with the Fletcher, and just as they had pushed out the Tiger Moth, the Fletchers, in their turn pushed them and all the others out of the job, including the DC3.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

94

About this time, the office put out a tender for scrub cutters to cut a block of light bush, and consequently sent out these two unlikely looking scrub cutters. A Taxi Owner/Driver, and an ex — P&T Worker; Derek set them to work on the bush block and they were staying over at his house and I did not see much of them. They finished the job about the same time the new house is finished, and one of these guys, Geoff, asks Baldy about the house and the general hand’s job. Baldy gives him the job as they had got a bit matey and done a fair bit of drinking since he had been there, so he moves his wife and three kids in. They were not there long before the Superintendent’s visit, and Derek has gone.

A new manager was sent down from Waihaha again, (no names sorry).

Now his woman had a son, and she wanted her man to give him a job. It does not take the new boss long to find out that Geoff is not really up to the job and somehow or other he has gone, and taken the two oldest kids with him. I cannot remember the reason why something to do with bus tickets, or money I think, nevertheless, Daphne and the youngest kid, Raewyn are temporarily left behind.

Now young Bob knows the makings of a good deal when he sees it, he is sick of living in this bloody hut so does a bit, of whatever it took, and moves into the house. When Geoff comes back (not exactly the next day either), to get his pig dogs and the rest of the family, Daphne tells him that she and Raewyn, the little girl, are staying; and that is all l am going to say about that.

I was out mustering one day, and on the way home cut through this small block of bush with a wetland area in it and came across these frogs around a log.

Deciding that Raewyn might like a frog, I decide to catch her one. Anyway, I take off my leggings, tie the bottoms up, and caught so many frogs I filled both legs up with them. When I get home and go inside. Raewyn wants to know what is in the leggings. She knew there would be something because I often caught her little rabbits, birds' etc .So I ask her would she like a frog, yes please she says. Well I tipped out these frogs, dozens of them jumping and croaking all over the place.

It’s a good job we had bugger all furniture at the time because Daphne was getting frogs out from under, inside and behind things for ages. Raewyn thought it was great fun to have all these playmates.

When we were finally getting the power on, the power board was short of people so local Survey staff were seconded to the power board the blocks on each side of us were caught in this drag net however, we were not. After they had finished and moved on we are over at the Manager's house and an electrician turns the power on to the house. Young Raewyn is up on the shed that the water tanks are sitting on. Next minute she is yelling and crying and appears to be hanging on to a pipe as if she thought she might fall off. The electrician immediately smacks the power off and she is OK. Somehow, the earth peg is too close to a water pipe, and in the pumice, some of juice was getting onto the pipe C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

95

going to the water tank. To this day Raewyn will tell you that it was at least 1000 volts. The

electrician reckoned more like 20 but never mind.

She phoned me the other day to make sure this was included in the WAIKINO chapter. You can see the tank stand and the offending water pipes in the photo on the left.

RAEWYNS photo was taken about a yr later at WAIHI PUKAWA.

Now my new BOSS starts putting pressure on me to go because his woman/cook/ missus/ wife’s/ which ever what ever I never knew—no matter, I now had the same status, her son does not want to be a general hand; he wants the shepherd's job, which I had. I decided that I was not ready to go and started a war of attrition. If I was told to leave a gate open I would shut it, turn a pump off I would turn it off for a while then fill it up with fuel and start it up. Kill a mutton I would kill a dog tucker ram there is lots more I could tell, but you get the picture. Of course, I denied all of this wrongdoing and he started to think it was his cook’s son, because she was always telling the boss how he would help sort it all out. So with her carrying on about why he could not get rid of me and us over there living in sin etc, and me waging this covert war at night time, the poor bugger lasts about a month and ends up being taken over to Tokanui, not quite a NUT CASE, but certainly in a disturbed state of mind. Waihaha must have been running out of head shepherds as they made me up to TEMPORARY ACTING MANAGER because I was the only bugger left. It was a big job trying to run a place on your own, trying to remember and do everything. I really got the message when we had to shear the two tooth ewes. These ewes were carrying plenty of dags, and there was no way I had time to dag them what with mustering, drenching taking them away etc so I asked the shearers to dag them before shearing, but their boss reckoned he did not have time, so the bastards

God they looked awful and hard case at the same time. This is where l started to get the message, about what happens when some Maori get the upper hand or become the majority. shore the wool off but left the dags hanging on.

For about three months, I battled on there on my own just as Derek had done before I moved there. We stayed until no name got back then took a job with Maori Affairs at Kuratau on Waihi Pukawa Block. The manager’s name was John McPhail who went on to manage Stevenson’s famous place on the Napier Taupo highway, Lochinvar Station. The head shepherd was a guy by the name of Robert Grace. I ran into Robert years later at the Ngongotaha sale yards. We C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

96

packed up, borrowed Waihi Pukawa’s truck, and moved our gear into a house on the main road (highway 41.)

One more thing years later Daphne’s Brother John told me that he had been in charge of the post and telegraph gang that put the phone line up the western side of Lake Taupo from Kuratau to Whakamaru.

Sometimes today when I hear the greenies and all the other experts carrying on about saving the planet, about using weed spray, about poisoning opossums, and other pests, about eating mutton fat, about smoking, about drinking tap water, about washing your hands after having a pee, it makes me wonder if they ever wonder how any of us ever survived.

On this side of the Western Bay Access Road, there were 2 Maori Corporation farms, 1 MA Block & 2 reasonable sized mills, with their own little settlements.

Logging & milling 100% native timber.

WAIKINO BLOCK

I took those photos over the fence a while ago. Just a couple of hundred metres from our house.

Then it had not long been crushed and burnt, with half burnt logs and crushed tee tree all over it. Every ewe had twins, in our time if you got the ewe in lamb you had done well.

41 The manager's houses have the long stick the head shepherd the shorter one.

I am the guy on the horse at our two houses.

WAIHI PUKAWA

The distance between Waikino's southern end and the Kuratau turnoff is actually about 15 kilometres. From memory, Waikino was about 2000 acres and as Waihi Pukawa must have been about 4 or 5 times bigger, thereby making it the guts of 10000 acres.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

97

I have told you RAEWYN there is no bugger looking, give me the bloody thing. If BOB is having his dinner its only fair that I get something.

Don't eat it all SOUVENIR what am I going to wear when BOBDAD has finished his dinner and wants his hat back.

Do not just stand there GIRL bring it a bit closer so I can get hold of it.

Back on page 80, I touched on setting up camp with an old hut I could not pull all the way to the yards. I was going to tow the hut all the way down to the cattle yards so I could use the holding paddocks for my horse paddocks but got it stuck about halfway between the sheep and cattle yards right in the middle of a 100-acre paddock. So I dragged a heap of kanuka poles back and built a yard right around the hut.

you have no bloody idea how horse piss can stink on a hot night.

Jesus Christ

NOTE: I moved onto WAIKINO with all my gear on the little KARRIER truck but WE needed a CAR, a HORSE FLOAT, and the Maori Affairs TRUCK to move off.

Good Bye, C robberteebobs books

Waikino Block

hello Waihi Puka revised and reprinted Feb 2013

98

Chapter 17

WAIHI PUKAWA

8500 words

This was the first Maori block I had been on and did not really know what to expect, as any survey joker always told any one new to the L&S that it was the best and never go to a Maori block. Those fellows, and not much later, I too, would never miss an opportunity to tell the same story.

l don’t know

where some of them got their words of wisdom from but l myself Bob Simmonds got mine from my own experience with Maori blocks and Maoris in general.

When pressed none of us would or could really give specific examples, most just said they were different from the Survey blocks. Years later when I nearly joined the old MOT department a policeman told me to join the police instead because the MOT [Ministry of Transport] came second place to the police. Over the years, I found that to be the same with the Lands and Survey and the Maori Affairs but I know people who never worked on any other than Maori blocks.

About the first bit of DRAMA that happened here, was this. When we moved off Waikino I had left one horse behind and a week or two later no name is making noises and wants it gone. For some reason I could not find a float to go and get it, as we sold ours immediately after the move. John McFarlane said if I could figure out how to keep the horse on, I could use the block truck [no sides]. I am talking to Micka Church about this problem and he suggests that I get it down, tie its legs together then tie it down on the truck (bloody brilliant give the man a cigar) so to the next scene. I get up to Waikino’s cattle yards and back the truck into the ramp, catch the horse, lead it down the race which is all flat and the same height as the truck deck. Get the ropes on down goes the horse, it is a bit awkward but I get his legs tied up, but then he’s too bloody heavy and I can’t roll him over nor sideways I have to get him end over end to get out of this race. Now I have a bit of a look around and about fifty yards away is a nice hole with reasonably straight sides I decide if the horse was lying on the ground and the truck was in the hole, I could pull a gate off bloody Waikino's yards, stick it between the bank and the truck. Once I had that setup I should be able to roll this horse over sideways across the gate and 'hey presto' he would be on, tie him down and we are gone;(sounds do-able).

Next problem roping up a horse and throwing it really is quite easy, but it is a lot better to do it in a yard rather than a hundred acre paddock, just in case the bugger gets away. I am thinking GOD it is only about fifty yards and everybody knows a horse will pull more with his tail than with a Collar and Hanes, right; drop this horse in the yard, tie a rope from horse's tail to Austin truck over to the hole, minute and half at the most. I have the truck in the hole, Waikino's gate is in position. Then I hear “make C robberteebobs books

sure that gate goes revised and reprinted Feb 2013

99

back", I look around and here is no name. He is taking his old sheila and her kith and kin for a Sunday drive around his EMPIRE however due to what’s gone down here in the last few months neither of these two are my biggest fans. The horse goes on, the gate goes back on its hinges, and we are away. Horse gets home safe and that is the end of the matter RIGHT ? WRONG. About Wednesday there is this Policeman banging on the door. To cut the story as short as possible Mrs No Name has laid a complaint with the Police about Animal Cruelty. Into the Taumarunui Court House we go, I have neither before, or since been so scared, there were three real criminals, in front of me. Real Criminals or not, I thought their sentences were a bit harsh. JAIL 5 YRS, JAIL 1 YR, JAIL 1 YR. Next thing some bugger is calling out so everyone could hear 'Simmonds Robert.’

SHIT the way this thing sounds when it was read off a bit of paper it was obvious I would get at least 10 YRS. Telling the magistrate that a horse could pull more than his own weight on his tail did not seem to be much help either.

He reads the riot act; all I am listening for is how many years. When I hear '£18, pay the clerk on the way out or arrange credit so you can pay it off,' I think he’s talking to someone else and just stand there, but no he’s looking straight at me, then says ‘NEXT CASE’. GOD WHAT A RELIEF; we even had £18. For once, I was pleased I was with the Maori Affairs it would have been a sacking offence with the Lands & Survey.

Just a few days before this big court case there was a bit of drama on a cargo plane when over the Tasman a couple of race horses went berserk and the co- pilot had to kill one with a little fire axe. Consequently, at the time there was a fair bit of sympathy for the horse but not much for the co- pilot with the axe, nor me, l thought it prejudiced my right to a fair trial somewhat.

Nevertheless, l managed to keep my gob shut and was happy to pay the fine and put it behind me.

In theory, the block was one property but in reality, divided into nine areas, which were to become nine farms, or so these jokers thought and they made bloody sure I knew what their status was and just where they and I fitted into the scheme of things. Forty odd years later and what is not under Bloody Pine Trees is still one block a couple of them were on their second time around as they had already been settled once then reverted back to the way god had left it and more tax payers money was being used to clean it up again. Most of the staff lived and worked on what they hoped would eventually be theirs or their family’s farms.

That is why Waihi Pukawa did things a bit differently. There were six shepherds, C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

100

one truck /tractor driver, one head shepherd and the manager. Apart from dagging, crutching, docking, or other big jobs when we were all picked up from our houses and taken to and from the woolshed and taken home for dinner, we stayed on our own areas and did most of the work there on our own. If there were bigger jobs that one man could not handle on his own Robert Grace, the Head Shepherd would send somebody to help. However, usually he and the general hand moved around helping everybody. Most of the other shepherds who had been there for years liked the system, because most of them had some sort of Maori claim over their blocks and liked to stay on them.

It was while we were there that I worked out, that how good a stockman you were had nothing to do with how many dogs you had. Some of the best musterers or drovers I knew did not have big packs of dogs. I knew a cowboy type who had 15 dogs, and plenty, including myself, anywhere from 5 to 10 dogs. Wally Thompson at Griffins only had two plain-eyed heading dogs and you never heard them bark, or him yell. Derek never had a big pack that I can remember. Looking at some fellows, you would think they worked for the rabbit board with all their rabbit chasing dogs all over the place. Anyway, one day I am trying to do something on my own and things were deteriorating quite rapidly.

Some dogs appeared to be working for me, some for themselves, others were chasing rabbits or looking for opossums, a couple were sitting in a water trough keeping TIPPY company, he was the worst offender for that as he was always getting into them, some had given up and gone home. The horse was exhausted from galloping from one end of the paddock to the other, chasing either sheep or dogs, and catching neither. In short I had had enough, went home got the gun, went back to where most of the bastards were at the yards chewing up an old ewe. There were bullets and dogs flying everywhere. 303-ammo was a pretty expensive item, and I did not have much, so I ran out of ammo before I hit anything, but there and then, I decided four or five dogs were all that I needed.

I sold and gave away dogs and for years, things were a lot easier to keep under control. Nevertheless, the numbers always crept up again, so every now and than you had a clean out.

Years later when there was a lot of unemployment around we had big gangs of unemployed on the blocks; some of those gangs were like that big pack of dogs, they just get too big and cannot be controlled and end up ruling the roost. lf the authorities took a big stick to some today, they would soon get them under control.

Work on these places was much the same, but it was outside of working hours, and sometimes, what happened at work that was not strictly work, where these other things happened that make life what it is.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

101

The Vanguard was always giving me trouble but the main problem was sometimes it was hard to start. It needed a new pipe from the fuel pump to the carburettor when I got it, so had the local garage made up a copper pipe and send it up to me. There was a note attached saying he did not know how long it should be but it had the right sized ends so if I just put one end on and bent it around until it fitted it should be ok. This pipe was too long, and ended up going up around then down a bit to the carburettor. Anyway, I put up with this starting problem until we went around to Tongariro just for a drive one Sunday. Going over a bridge Daphne saw some rocks in this creek and wants to go down and have a look. There is nowhere to park except on the bridge so I go back to the top of the hill turn it off, it starts, go half way down turn it off, it starts. I am thinking shit this thing is having a good day so park on the bridge, go down to the creek, everyone has a good time, and no other traffic comes along. We get back up to the car with ½ ton of rocks and THAT IS RIGHT, it will not bloody start. Beat it up with one of Daphne's bloody rocks then fire that back down into the river. Finally the bloody thing goes.

I know a guy on Kuratau Block who has a 1948 FORD truck he wants to sell so that night I am on the phone doing a deal with no money. We come to some financial arrangement and next day go down and have a look at it and I want it bad. However, of course we have no money.

Well I sell my good western saddle, one of the many things that had been purchased from, then financed by the BALDY FOSTER FINANCE COMPANY and this is where Goldie and Souvenir are sacrificed along with a couple of dogs one of which was a good heading dog. Nevertheless, we are still a few bob short so Philip Rowe one of the shepherd /owners (and in spite of anything I might say about him, Phil was a nice guy) comes up and says he will give me £50 and a mongrel heading dog for the Vanguard. I could not say OK quick enough. He then says, 'before I take it home I will have a look under the bonnet," he looks, and without undoing anything bends this flash fuel pipe down below the carburettor, starts it up and I’m thinking; fluke mate, wait until you try to start it next time. Well we have enough dough, so off we go and buy our new truck.

1951 VANGUARD out

-

2 HORSE FLOAT gone - 1948 FORD in

The only thing we ever regretted selling around that time was the float, as we never could afford to buy another one.

(They still only cart 2 horses but you never see a single axle now).

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

102

A while later Phil tells me that because the pipe was above the carburettor, it was creating a vapour block and since he altered the pipe, it was starting good. you live and learn, of course, this cunning Maori knew that all the time we had been there and had just waited until the time was ripe, since then I have always admired anyone who could put one over on me.

REMEMBER 100 YRS IS NOTHING TO A MAORI OR A POLITICIAN. We did some miles Waihi Pukawa 1964 in that truck, we had sold the float before to buy furniture or some such thing most likely the television set that had to have a piece of coloured cellophane over the screen before you could see Snow, five dogs, truck, & Me anything at all.

l must work it out some time because l cannot remember buying and paying for petrol ever being much of a problem in those days.

I got hold of an old single horse float from somewhere and modified it so it went on the back of the Ford like a stock crate, and we carted our horses around in that one at a time.

Talking about horses, I now had a truck but no saddle, the guy who had bought my cowboy saddle had as part of the deal lent me an old military saddle, however it was overdue to be returned so the bugger came and just took it away. CHRIST ALMIGHTY it was embarrassing enough riding around on that old military saddle which was really just a bloody glorified packsaddle. Nevertheless, SHIT O DEAR the alternative that faces me now is almost unbelievably unthinkable, riding around bareback like a bloody Indian or something. FUCKING HELL BOB we are not having that, however for a while, there was no alternative, and I did just that; never mind, when I got home each night and looked at the FORD V8 TRUCK I stopped thinking about, and feeling my sore arse and legs.

I had done this once before at Tuhingamata but then I could take the moral high ground because of the way the others had abused the horse's backs but that would not work here.

There was an old American fellow living at Kuratau by the name of Tex Thomas who worked for the Rabbit Board. This old guy was full of what I thought at the time was bull shit but now with the passing of time I realize C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

103

that it was probably true,

his stories about cowboys and working

on ranches etc. Anyway I heard that this guy had made somebody a saddle

so that’s enough for me, I go down to see him and introduce myself and yes he knew how to make a saddle alright. However, he cannot because his hands are full of arthritis but if I wanted to learn, he would show and teach me how to do leather work, shit I am thrilled and start lessons next weekend.

Now when Tex said we would make a saddle that was what he meant. We cut down a Douglas fir tree sawed, axed, rasped, and shaped wood for the frame.

Got a cow skin and buried it under the woolshed in the sheep shit until it became rawhide, which we used to cover the wooden frame. Then because there was no money for leather, we soaked the rest of the hide mixed up with some ingredient of Tex's in one of Daphne’s tubs until it turned into green hide and used that on some parts on the saddle. Somehow, we managed to get enough money together to buy the rest of the leather Tex decreed we needed. Poor Daphne did not know what she had taken on when she hooked up with me. We still needed some sheepskins to put under this saddle so they were acquired reasonably easily as there are some advantages in living on a sheep farm. Tex showed me how to cure, stretch, and nail them out. We made up a mixture of kerosene and baking soda, which we scraped and rubbed into the skin and left it for so many days. So that the rats, cats, dogs etc did not end up with it, we put it under the bed. We made every part of those first two saddles, buckles, stirrups, all except for the leather, which he could have made, but I did not have the time.

Tex put his long life down to drinking two pints of coffee every day, and a quirky thing was that Daphne remembered that Tex used to drive cattle past her Dad’s place at Otorohanga when she was a kid, when he was a drover working for some stock firm.

The saddle on the left is the one TEX helped me with, it may look a terrible thing but I used it for quite a while and it never put a mark on neither a horse nor me. The one on right is the first I made on my own, I made it for and sold it to Philip Rowe and that paid for the leather for both of them and the next one.

ABOUT THESE SADDLES; this was 1964 we had bugger all money, neither Tex nor I had much in the way of tools, when his hands got too bad he had sold or given away all his leather tools. We did all the woodwork on the frames with a handsaw, an axe, and a shoeing rasp. We cut all the leather with my skinning knife. There is only a little bit of stitching around the back of the seat the rest is C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

104

laced with leather thonging, threaded through holes cut with a knife. While they certainly look bloody uncomfortable, they weren't as bad as you may imagine, mine never put a mark on any horse I used it on, and while Phil did not get his until after we had moved to Te Kopia, I never heard any moaning about it. As Phi's arse would have been of more importance to him than the horses back, I am sure I would have heard about any problem.

[1] Steel straps held the bundles of wool packs together and I soon found a use for them, first by cutting lengths of it to the right length and shaping them to the right shape. I then put a bolt, flogged off a gate, across the top; bound the whole thing with rawhide, then covered it with leather. The thing was then a

Simmonds made stirrup.

Unique & Genuine

All the big buckles were fashioned from broken trough float arms; Tippy was good at breaking them for me when he was getting in and out of troughs. All the smaller buckles and rings came off broken ram harness. The thin straps you can see hanging down in the photo, came through the Conchos then tied in a certain way, they held saddle skirts in place, then used to tie coats etc to the saddle. The Conchos themselves were made from aluminium, the Power Board and the Post And Telegraph (P&T) thoughtfully put a strip of aluminium about two feet wide around their poles to stop the opossums climbing up. I could make plenty of Conchos from just one piece of this, and did; I used them on saddles, brides, on damn near everything I made.

The raw hide came from dead cattle and the sheep skins from dead second shear two tooth ewes.

[2] A bit later on, I tried melting down a heap of Maori Affairs shepherds lambing crooks, to forge the stirrups from, but could not pinch enough of them without being caught. I had cobbled together a forge out of a truck brake drum, DAPHNE’S vacuum cleaner and an old cast iron camp oven to hold the melted aluminium in. [BUT I COULD NOT [1] get enough RAW MATERIAL [2] keep the vacuum cleaner clean, something that was not a problem when Ken and I were painting our cars with Mum’s one.)

[3] I DAMN NEAR BURNT THE MAORI AFFAIRS DAMN SHED DOWN Going back to this bit from page 99

(This is where Goldie and

Souvenir are sacrificed) Those two horses were never stars in their own rights as bucking horses, however, Goldie sired quite a few rodeo horses that in the main the cowboys used for roping, and steer wresting, while the cowgirls used them for barrel racing.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

105

For a long time they used Souvenir as a pickup horse where he had to place his rider in close beside the bucking horse so the cowboys could be safely taken off after their rides and then put down in a safe part of the arena.

l imagine he thought it was a bit like brumby chasing & catching.

Souvenir & his FLASH HARRY saddle from the Farmers Trading Company @ Auckland. @ WAIKINO BLOCK

Buck & his Simmonds made saddle @ WAIHI PUKAWA.

The Farmers saddles, looked the part but they were just about unusable because of the damage they did before falling to pieces. That is a Farmers saddle on Souvenir, it was my first western saddle, I bought it off a cocky down the road from Walkers. I soon found out why it had been hanging up in his shed for years as it put sores on the riders arse & the horses back both at the same time. The Farmers Trading Co was about the only place you could buy a western saddle that a shepherd could afford in those days on HP @ a couple of bob a week. They must have made them with a kind of cardboard & if it got wet fell to bits within a year or so. That is the saddle Goldie had to carry when Souvenir was a wild horse.

The Bob & Tex saddle did not look too flash but while it was not comfortable, it did not ruin any horse's back or make my bum really, sore.

(In

the long run be it a saddle or a woman a

plain Jane is always better than a flash Harry.)

OPPOSITE; RAEWYN is about 3 and a bit years on a good little one-eyed mare her name was Daffy [not the bucker in chapter17] Goldie sired the foal and they both went to Te Kopia with us, on the FORD. C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

106

Waihi Pukawa had the Kuratau River along its eastern boundary, which was on the opposite side to where Derek and I used to catch horses, but they roamed across the river and I could get at them from the southern end of Waihi Pukawa.

There were thousands of acres of empty country out there as years earlier, the native trees were clear felled and most milled almost where they fell, and consequently there were abandoned mills and roads all over the place. Some weekends we would go out there and camp out for a couple of nights. Young Raewyn loved it and I am sure she would have lived out there full time. One night we spotted a half- grown rabbit on the road and missy wanted it, muggings jumped out and ran what seemed a mile, caught the bloody rabbit; by the time I got back to the truck the motor had stopped and the lights were nearly out I immediately knew we were in deep shit. Those old six-volt batteries did not take long to go flat with the lights on and the motor off. Daphne had turned the motor off to save gas and left the lights on so I could see where they were. Well Raewyn had her rabbit so I decided not to try to start the truck, so we made camp there and let the battery recover a little bit. I had a sleepless night but in the morning when I hit the starter button she fired up first go. What a relief as that was the biggest worry, breaking down out there. THAT ENDED UP BEING A GREAT WEEKEND. We found an old mill with half a dozen derelict houses just like some deserted town out of a western film, their windows were all boarded up, so we get a couple of boards off one and have a good look in. This room was full of clothes pegged on lines. By the style Daphne reckoned they were at least forty years old, mainly Long Johns and Bloomers, obviously somebody had hung up the wet washing thinking they would be back but had never returned. At that time, empty beer bottles were worth a penny each and there were heaps lying around out there; we picked up and took home dozens of them and they paid for a bit of petrol.

That weekend I noticed quite a bit of horse sign around, so as soon as I could, I went back on Goldie and we caught a buckskin colt I called Buck. Buck landed the job modelling the first saddle I made, there is a photo of him with Goldie, the horse that ran him down, on the last page.

Previously I had thought Waikino was a good hunting block but Waihi Pukawa was better. One day I was mustering on my own and shit I see about twenty pigs in the paddock amongst the sheep, well I managed to gather them up with the sheep and had them nicely tucked up in the middle of the mob. If I could get these back to the yards with the sheep, I could kill them and take them down to the wild meat buyer at Tokaanu, and they would pay the tucker bill for quite a while. I only had one more gate to get them through to be home and hosed as they say, but one bloody dog could not contain himself any longer, and decided to grab one. Well now, it is all on; pigs all over, the place even the dogs are confused, every pig got away, talk about counting your chickens before the eggs C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

107

were hatched , however hardly a week went past without me taking at least one deer down to Tokaanu. (ln those days deer & pigs quite often paid our tucker bill) Every year everywhere we have been we have planted potatoes and have never had the crop I expected.

Derek could grow anything and always to a good size. (I visited him at his home at Ngongotaha in 2007 the first time I had seen him in years and he still had his garden with massive sized vegetables growing in it).

Anyway I had about ten bales of hay left after the winter and dumped them out behind the house and threw some spuds into the heap and kick it around a bit. A few months later when we were packing up to move to Te Kopia, Daphne wondered about those spuds and when she had a look could not believe it. They looked like something Derek would have grown; heaps of them and all a good size. We have never been able to grow potatoes like them again. You either have green fingers or you do NOT!!

There were many timber mills around there and they had massive slab heaps, which if you spent a bit of time on you could find some good timber. Now Daphne’s Mum and Dad Dorothy and Bill Jarman had a small block on the southern end of Otorohanga and their old outside Dunny had seen its day. Therefore, I go up to the mill at 2C incorporation and get a heap of slabs, take them home and build this shit house. This is wet native timber, anything from one to two inches thick, so I build this loo. What a job getting it on the truck, it must have weighed a ton. It was that heavy, all the way over there every time we went around a bit of a corner, the truck leant over a bit and the back wheels rubbed on the deck. By the marks underneath looked like it came close to catching on fire at times. The biggest job proved to be getting the thing around to the back of the house where Daphne’s brother John had dug the hole, anyway, the mission was completed satisfactorily and old Bill was happy as Larry with his new dunny. However, before we left to go over there I had the JARMANS PRIVATE CONVENIENCE lying on its side and had painted all but a small piece of the roof with blue paint and left the brush and tin sitting on the ground nearby.

Raewyn was doing nothing so I put the tin near the roof, gave her the brush, and told her I would wash the truck and clean it up before we left, and while I was doing that, she could finish the roof. YEAH RIGHT while I am washing one side of the red truck, Raewyn was busy painting the other side blue.

l used more bloody petrol cleaning the paint off than l used delivering the bloody dunny.

There was a young single fellow shepherding on the block, he and his parents lived in a house on the main road but his Dad worked in Taupo or somewhere off the block. The young fellow was another shepherd that like me C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

108

was a landless pakeha and a non-owner almost a bloody non-person as well, in the opinion of a couple of them. It was after we had started making my saddle and were talking about one thing or another that it transpired he was the young fellow I had previously heard about, for whom old Tex had made the saddle. See what l mean by keeping us on our own patches, we were working on the same place but had never met each other.

Anyway, one day I hear that his Dad has a bit of land between Turangi and Taupo and needed to get some posts but could not afford to buy any. Well young Bob happens to know where there are some totara posts, "Yep they will be good, the old man will give you whatever (long forgotten) for them". Now I had come across these posts way out in the bush one day while chasing horses and obviously they had not been worth going back to pick up because there were only about thirty of them; but to me 30 X whatever was worth having. They were well out in the wop- wops but I knew I would be able to find them. Now I have always been pretty brave, talking about pinching this or that, but when push comes to shove, I would always bottle out. However, I did not consider this thieving; it was no different from catching horses. If the people who split them wanted them, they would not have left them there etc- etc. I filled the truck up with gas and head out to this place on the map in my head. Now I know where I am going because I had ridden all over this country.

Well it is one thing to go tearing down a track on a horse chasing other horses; the adrenalin is up and the blood is racing. Sometimes when we started to ride back, we would be that scared we would get off and lead our horses around washout holes. The worst were the rail sleepers where the old rail tracks had been. We galloped down flat out, but walked back shaking in our boots. One time on the way back, a washout was so deep that we took the gear off our horses and carried it in case they went over the edge.

However when you are in a truck on a bush track that has not seen a grader blade in ten years it is different story. God I ended up carrying these bloody posts the guts of a mile. Finally, they are all on and I head home. I nearly get out onto the main road and suddenly think what happens if somebody sees them, never thought about a cover when I left home, why cover posts that had been stacked outside for who knows how long. I watch a few cars go past, and it was not too long before I thought every cloud of dust I saw coming would be a police car. I sit there until dark and head home about twenty miles away, every time I saw head lights coming up behind me I panicked and either turned around so I would be facing them, or backed into a gateway or something. It is nearly midnight by the time I get to this young guy’s house and get him out of bed then he tells me his old man’s not home and I cannot leave them there because our boss might think they were flogged off him. So shit I take the bloody things home and hide them in the shed under the tank stand. Next night I go and see this bigC robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

109

time post buyer and he tells me he does not want native posts he is only using creosoted pine. By now, I was paranoid about being caught with these bloody things, so I sawed them up with a handsaw and burnt them in the coal range.

So much for making a fortune out of crime.

There is a bit I have to say about the Grace’s; I can’t remember the Christian name of the fellow who bought the horse float but it does not matter because in my opinion he was entitled to be called Mr Grace. (Senior) Mum had given us some furniture while we still had the Vanguard, but we could not get it back.

Somebody told me Graces' had some trucks, as they were hay contractors, so I go and see this gentleman to ask if he would hire me a truck. I tell him my problem and he says, "Is that one big enough?" and lent me a eight ton Morris. We then went up to Elstow and picked up the furniture, took his truck back and he would not take any money for using it. I was very grateful to him for that, and have always considered him, truly a good bugger. Not long after we started on Waihi Pukawa the head shepherd left and Robert Grace gets the job but had to move to the head shepherds house by the woolshed, so after Robert and his family moved out, they moved us up to that end of the block.

Grace and Church was a common surname around there at that time however, none of the ones l knew appeared to be religious, but some must have been sometime. One of Robert Grace’s boys was named Robert as well, so we will refer to him as Robert Grace junior, years later the Graces' and our tracks would cross again several times.

Not long after Phil brought the Vanguard for what I now considered half price, we were working in the cattle yards and the mud was ankle deep. Phil is jumping up and down going crook because he has lost his watch in the mud somewhere. Well about half an hour earlier I had seen a watch, picked it up and put it in my pocket because two days before this the block down the road had used the yards and I figured that if nobody said anything it must belong to them.

Then Phil starts bleating about his flaming watch, now I had always thought that he had known how to fix the Vanguard and had said nothing, so I decided I would keep his bloody watch, which I hoped was a family heirloom and I would say nothing, I took it home threw it in a drawer and forgot it. When we were at Te Kopia my watch stopped and I remembered Phil’s watch, found it, tried to wind it up, no go, opened it up and it was full of dried mud and rust, knackered.

I often wondered if Phil had a little bit of bad feelings towards me and never said anything just to keep the peace. Some time before one of his kids had a birthday party, and Raewyn was invited. Raewyn and the birthday kid get into a scrap over something, so Raewyn ends it by whacking this kid on the head with a hammer. Phil's kid is out stone cold, a lot of blood, but not much damage.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

110

Daphne gets a phone call to come and pick up Raewyn because she has tried to kill one of their kid’s. He never said anything to me about it, but I did wonder, because I would have had plenty to say if it had been the other way around.

Although, maybe when you have about ten kids I suppose that sort of thing is not a big deal.

At the start of this chapter I said the Lands and Survey was better than the Maori Affairs, well that was true to a point but in both cases it was usually the manager who made it a good job, or not. If the manager was hard or bad, no head shepherd could make the job good, though sometimes with a good manager, some head shepherds could and did make the job bad.

When I applied for this job, the manager was a chap by the name of John McFarlane who had the reputation of being a good guy to work for and I thought I would get on well with him. As a rule, good mangers had better than average staff and Waihi Pukawa was not an easy block to get a job on. We had barely moved there when John got the manager / supervisors’ job for Stevenson’s big place on the Napier Taupo highway, LOCHINVAR STATION, and he was gone. The next manager was Richard Truebridge, and we did not hit it off right from the start. I think it was his first managing job and you know the old story about the new broom etc. From memory, Robert Grace did not stick it for long either, so within a short time, we had a new manager and new head shepherd and I do not think I would have been in such a hurry to start there under this setup.

The old sayings such as you learn something every

day, you are never too old to learn etc are usually right.

Another guy and I were outside the boundary fence one day hunting and decided to go home by another route. We knew there was a gate on the boundary, which from where we were would save about two hours riding. When we get to this gate, it has a chain and a good padlock on it, I am thinking about the long ride back the other way, but he says no worries. Well he gets off, pulls a stirrup off his saddle, and bugger me, the slots on the bottom of an ordinary stock saddle stirrup fit snugly and neatly over the square nut on a 3/8 " coach bolt he had the top strap off in a flash. We were through the gate, it is bolted back on, and we are on our way in minutes. That was a good trick to know but as I only ever used western saddles with different stirrups; I was never able to use it.

About this time there was new cowboy soap on TV called STONY BURKE which I thought was pretty very good (this was before Coronation Street) and he used to carry his saddle over one shoulder. I started carrying mine like that the others thought it was a big joke, but my horse thought it was the best thing since sliced bread, I carried the bloody thing as far as he did some days.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

111

The STONY BURKE photo was taken as we were loading up to move from WAHAROA 02 / 1970 STONY BURKE

Simmonds

Raewyn with Daffy's foal Hine that later became her first horse

It was while we were here we lost track of Derek for a while, and then somebody told me he was living in a tent in behind Tongariro somewhere, so as I knew that country well we head around there one weekend and soon found him. Well he is not really “living in a tent�. Sure, he has a tent, but man he was well set up, table, chairs, bed the works. Turns out, he is shooting deer and doing all right.

We had been away for a week or so and got back late on Sunday night in the dark, phone goes and the Head Shepherd is telling me to be somewhere by 6.00 am, now that meant I would have to catch the horse in the dark before daylight. This created a teensy weensy bit of a problem. Because before we left, I had turned all the horses out on to the Air Strip so they would have plenty of feed, and not knowing about the early start, it should not have been a problem to run them into the bit of a yard I had at one end. By now with the experience gained at Waikino chapter 09 I was a pretty DAB HAND at building yards with poles, C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

112

Therefore, it had not taken me long to build this pretty substantial structure, the problem was that the lead in and gate was not right and I always had a TEENSY WEENSY bit of trouble getting these horses in. Well this morning was going to prove to be nothing out of the ordinary in that respect. Why is it that whenever there is a bunch of anything’s together there is always some SMART ARSE ready to lead the others astray, or some LOUD MOUTH that just has to say something? Well seeing in this case these were horses, I know nobody is going to say something. That cut the odds against me from 100% to 50% so it just leaves some SMART ARSE to step forward and that did not take long at all. The strip is say 150 yards wide and ½ a mile long. After a couple of circuits, the smart arse has been identified, as that bloody big black mare we had hauled all the way from Walkers chapter 08. This thing was supposed to put a bit of size into these horses I was going to breed, but in spite of the stallions’ very best efforts, the Barren Bitch had never produced a foal. I decide to give it one more go now I knew who to watch for; back up the strip get behind these sods down to the yard and this bloody ungrateful bitch wheels around past the gate, but this time only leads ½ of them back up the strip. Bloody Good, but by the time I get half way to the gate its Bloody Bugger these BASTARDS have figured out that they have gone the wrong way and were back out with their mates.

Sometimes when I am watching and listening to some bugger on the NEWS that has just trotted around a hill or something and everybody going on about what a bloody fantastic marathon it had been, I wonder how many bloody times either of the buggers (Interviewer or Interviewee) have chased 10 horses up and down a ½-mile long airstrip. In the dark, wearing hob nail boots, with bloody big cowboy spurs tied on them, leather chaps or leggings, bloody oilskin rain coat wearing a ten gallon hat that weighed ten lbs and smoking [at that time] the mandatory cigarette.

BOB heads home to dig out the Horse lovers book that had the article in it about how the cowboys and Indians in the Wild West could put a wild horse down without much damage with a technique they called *'SCARFING'*. This in Simple English meant. [a] get a gun and only one bullet is required [b] put a bullet just in the right place on the top of the neck. Yes! Here is the diagram; this looks pretty damn easy, all right. * scarfing * The small fact that the only time I have ever managed to achieve this amount of accuracy and actually put the bullet where it was supposed to go would have been when some poor bloody dog had been tied up to a post that tightly he could not MOVE and I could not MISS . The fact that I had never actually achieved a head shot before did not occur to me right then. [a] Yes I have a gun and Shit that’s a bit of luck I can only find ONE bullet. These things are a couple of bob each and I never had many at any one time but Shit here is C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

113

this book printed in the USA. Man I only need one in addition, do not forget this is the .303 rife that has shot a bull, one goat up the Kaimai's plenty at Walkers, bloody near my LITTLE BROTHER in chapter 06 plus countless deer, pigs, tins, bottles, and many other things if you add them all together Shit do not forget USELESS DOGS ..

Earlier on we could get old army ammo for next to nothing but they had banned it, when it started going off outside the gun as well as inside it; so later on don’t say how come when you realize you just read 6 lines ago that l said its worth two bob ? a round.

I get back down to the arena and have another 'go round' look at this smart bitch right out in front shit man she thinks she's something doesn't she bang! Well now, it is light enough to see properly and now I have one horse with one eye, and one horse with 1½ ears but she is still half an ear better off than Superintendent McCain in chapter 16. Well there is nothing I can do about 1½ ears at this time, so I try a different approach, quietly and calmly walk straight up to Daffy who was usually good to catch and is again now, had the bridle on and up to the house in minutes. I am only late enough for a bit of a dirty look at this stage, so I know that it will take a bit longer to ride out to the job on Daffy, but it still will not be late enough for it to have become a sacking offence.

Saddle up, get up, and realize that I did not have my knife belt; Daphne gets it and passes it up to me. I am still a bit steamed up about this complete bloody business and now that I have hold of one of the bastards, give her a bit of a swipe across the scone with the knife belt 'bugger all'. But just enough for the bottom of the steel that pokes out of its holder about 20 mm to hit her other eye, and it's lights out for ever for this good little mare [that’s why I kept her for as long as I could]. Back down to the strip on her and those other rotten sods, even 1½ ears, went straight in, swapped the gear over and off to work, only late enough to cop a bit of a grizzle. Man I hoped and prayed all day that nobody went up there and saw those two horses. The other SPCA experience was not all that long ago and if push ever comes to shove, I will refute this one. After work I scrounge some bullets off Phil and went straight home ASAP sorted out DAFFY best I could, and turned that other SMART ARSED bit of DOG TUCKER into DOG MEAT .

That’s the belt etc I made in 1965 [43 years ago] I wore it practically every day I was shepherding and managing and NEVER hit anything with it again, I was constantly reminded just how deadly the most harmless C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

114

thing can become , and brute rage is not always needed, just being a little bit steamed up is sometimes enough.

Soon after that, Derek landed the manger’s job on Te Kopia Block at Waikite Valley so we were off to take up the senior shepherd’s job. I cannot remember how many trips it took but we got everything; furniture, a couple of horses, dogs, etc over to Waikite Valley. The two horses were Buck and Daffy.

Old Mr Grace offered to lend us our old float but by now, it did not look like it had originally. It had been lent to some cuzzie bro's relative and this guy had plonked a CLYDESDALE type nag in there loose, and it must have seen something or someone and decided to get off and just went over and through the right hand side, tipping the whole thing over at 35 mph. It had been patched up, but that’s all you could say about the repair job; odd sized boards, drawbar not dead straight, I was scared that it would give us more trouble than it would solve, so we did it all with the old V8.

WAIHI PUKAWA ' S AUSTIN [ABOUT A 1961 MODEL] They used to run us home to our houses for dinner whenever we were working at the woolshed or cattle yards. Some days there would be four of us and the driver crammed into the cab, and twenty odd dogs on the back.

Living out in the sticks in those days, if you ran out of supplies it was just too bad. There was no shooting down to the shops, it was not just the vehicles we had we never had any money between paydays, so you just had to go without until next payday, and there was only one exception to the rule tobacco.

I had been using the same bloody razor for a few days and the thing was completely knackered so had not had a shave for a week and before we left to come home for dinner the Boss had told me to have a shave and tidy myself up a bit. Well I get my dinner down and try to have a shave with this bloody razor blade. Agony, so bright spark Daphne said, "Try this hair removal stuff" she’s waving around. Bloody brilliant. Shit I plaster the whole lot on my face and then the next thing I know the bloody truck is coming up the drive. Quick wash it off, well I got this crap off okay unfortunately it had not been on long enough to dissolve any bloody hair but hells-bells the smell of this stuff. We only got halfway back to the woolshed and Bob was heaved out onto the back with the bloody dogs. It was a while before the bastards forgot that, but I never have.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

115

Goodbye, Waihi Pukawa hello Te Kopia Block C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

116

Chapter 18

TE KOPIA BLOCK

6700 words

Te Kopia had just been cut off from Puaiti Block. Most of Puaiti had been developed for some time and was all due to be settled in the near future, however changes in government policies held some of it up for a while. Te Kopia was newer country and was to be around for some time yet.

1965

February 1966

note: the horse float come truck

The house we moved into on Te Kopia.

Raewyn with her horse Hine

Derek had been living in this house but had moved into a new one a couple of miles up Te Kopia Road on a hill above the new woolshed, apparently previously he had stored some opossum skins in one of the bedrooms. He had cleaned the room out, but between him moving out and us moving in a heap of flea eggs had hatched, and they were thick as fleas on a mongrel dog. Well I panicked and jumped up and down, as fleabites and yours truly are not a good mix. Daphne just went outside, found some mint plants, and scattered them around, the fleas were gone just like that. (Fleas do not like mint.)

We have used it all our lives to get rid of them in beds, buildings and dog kennels etc, we have even rubbed it onto animals to get rid of the little blighters. It does not kill them but they quickly move on. When we first arrived there, the Te Kopia/Puaiti split would not become official until April 1, so we were really working on Puaiti Block.

Puaiti’s manager was Les Hammond and for that first month, we were flat out, because from memory I think two farms were to be balloted, so had to be ready for the hand over by JULY 1, 1964. Fences had to be altered, gateways that now ended up between different properties had to be taken out, water supplies etc made independent, and a heap of other jobs done however apart from the general work, there was a lot of stock work involved. Each farm had to have so many sheep of each age group up to five years old, dry cattle and breeding stock had to be mustered, drafted, and split up in the same way, then on hand-over day everything had to be mustered up and counted by the new owner and a field officer. All that stock and acreage came off Puaiti’s books, then that went on for a couple of years and Puaiti was gone. Over the last twenty odd years, dozens of blocks have gone the same way, regrettably, because of the economics of the time C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

117

a lot of that country we worked so hard to bring into good productive farmland ended up under bloody pine trees and for that reason, l hate the bloody things. ln the early days on Te Kopia, contractors poisoned hundreds of them.

Never has anything made me happier than to go around the central North Island today, Taupo, Rotorua, Atiamuri, all over, and see thousands of hectares of pine trees being ripped out with diggers and bladed into heaps and just left to rot, long may it continue.

(It’s bloody hard not to find some bugger and say “I told you so”, whenever I told forestry guys that we would see them bulldozed into gullies in our lifetime they all thought I was nuts, mad, or worse).

Well on 1 April, Te Kopia was official, and Derek was the boss man again.

There were two shepherds, a truck / tractor driver, and Mr Foster. Te Kopia was steep in places, creeks, swamps, bluffs, hot pools. Work was much the same as on any other Block and was a six- and- a half day a week business. Derek was what you would have to call a GOOD BASTARD; as long as the jobs for the day were done, we had plenty of time off. One day we went over to Rerewhakaaitu to see a shepherd on Onuku Block by the name of Charlie Leach. Onuku was a Maori Block run by the Survey. (“i wonder why?" You do not have to be very bright to work that out, it was not the only one either) Charlie was making western saddles and other gear in his spare time after work etc.

Charlie later became so good at it that he moved into Rotorua and set up a workshop on Eurera Street where he employed quite a few people making mostly western style gear. Man shepherds and rodeo boys put their business his way.

Derek went over to buy or order some gear off him, but it revived my interest in leather work. I had only made that other gear on Waihi Pukawa to keep my arse off the horse’s bare back, not really to take it up in earnest. When we got back from Rerewhakaaitu we talked it over, Daphne was all for it, and Derek had no objection. I soon had a big workbench set up in the double car shed, found out where to get leather etc from, got the money together [without having to use Derek’s book] and brought five different sorts of hides and we were in the harness making business. OFFICIALLY ONLY IN MY TIME These are two of the saddles I made at Te Kopia the photo of the third one has been lost.

ALSO lost appears to be old TEX’S influence over

DESIGN & STYLE C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

118

I made a lot of other gear while we were there. I had bridles, leggings, all sorts in a couple of stock firms in Rotorua selling on behalf, and some in the local store at Ngakuru. The storeowner kept all the money he got for what he sold and it either paid for or part paid our monthly grocery bill depending on how much he sold; it was a good arrangement. Over the years, I made to order and sold a fair amount of leather gear. You have to remember this was before motor bikes, when shepherds could use their own horses or the Block would supply them but you had to have your own dogs, saddle etc. Every man and boy was busy breeding dogs, of which ninety-nine and three quarters percent were bloody useless, most ended up shot or otherwise disposed of. All the years I was around dogs and horses it never failed to amaze me how men who were bloody useless stockmen all thought they knew how to breed dogs and horses. They were always crossing this no hoper dog with another useless bloody thing and always thought they would have trial dogs that people would be queuing up to buy.

Hardly any Survey shepherds even knew how to make a horse walk properly.

Most of them seemed to think that jig- jog was the only way a horse could move.

You would see them jig- jogging around, and then next thing they would be moaning about how the useless horse had a sore back or wither.

I would hate to think about all the good horses that were shagged up by bloody no hopers then ended up being pet food; these are the same no hopers who thought they could breed horses. However, most managers would not have a stallion on the place; they just caused too much trouble; nevertheless, I had one most of the time I was managing and bred some (mediocre) horses as well.

Down Te Kopia road past Derek's house, the block ran along a bit of a creek Rotahouhou Stream that feeds into the Waikato River, but once the Ohaakuri Power Station and dam inhibited its flow, it caused this creek to back up and it formed into good sort of lake. This new lake now had pine trees poking up though the water, submerged trees, fences, logs to me it looked a horrible sort of place, the sort of area you would expect to find TANIWHA in the water and PATUPAIRERE

(fairies)on

the banks. SHIT I would not even let my dogs

drink out of it in case some huge bloody something hauled them in.

Imagine my absolute horror when Daphne tells me she wants to go down there for a SUNDAY picnic and have a SWIM. There's no way I am getting in that water but I can't let her swim around out there on her 'BLOODY' own either, so I borrow Baldy's plywood duck shooting thing that floats, and fortunately it did float, to call it a boat would be rather insulting to other boats, however it’s on the truck and off we go. Fortunately, Raewyn is of the same opinion as me about the fairies and things and INDIANS so she does not intend to get out of the boat either. The water was so cold the swimmer is out before the lakes' supernatural inhabitants realized she was there, and she got away with it. bugger that for a game of soldiers C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

119

Raewyn started school while we were on Te Kopia and had to get on the bus at the Te Kopia/ Puaiti Road junction. Now this would be a bit over a mile from our gate, but the gate was another quarter of a mile from the house. We / I decided that she could walk down there because the family across the road had three kids going to the same school, one of which was a five year old as well. This family’s name was Bryan (Des was the other shepherd). Anne tells Daphne don’t worry about Raewyn, her girls will look after her, so Raewyn gets her lunch and she is gone to school. About a week later, she brings home a letter from school, telling us Daphne has to go down and enrol her because nobody knew who she was. At the time, Raewyn started school there were only a few weeks until the August holidays and there was this little bunch of kids going down to the corner.

Some days they would walk, some days one of us would take them down.

Sometimes in the afternoon, the truck driver would fire them up on the back of the block truck and drop them off. Des Bryan had limited farming experience before coming to Te Kopia, but had some money from somewhere, and he needed more experience before State Advances, a Government bank that funded farmers amongst other things would lend him money. So being a government bank they organised it for Des to gain experience on a government block, then they would lend him the money he needed. That is why Des was on Te Kopia and why he left. Anyway, Des bought this old Model A Ford car, and we had just started to cut it down to make it into truck that he was going to use on his farm to take the cream cans down to the gate, when he got the call that everything at Ruawai was OK, and the money was all set. Over the August holidays, Des worked out his notice, packed up and they were gone to Ruawai 30km south of Dargaville, so that left Raewyn on her own. Sometimes we took her down; sometimes she rode her horse down and left it in the truck driver’s cow paddock, but most of the time the poor little bugger had to go there and back on her own.

Funnily enough, it never worried me at the time, however years later, when the other two were being driven around I often thought about Raewyn walking down there on frosty mornings and carried the guilt of making her do it for years on and off.

often

off than on l have to admit).

Des asked me to finish this conversion job and drive the bloody thing up to him and he would pay my bus fare back. Well I finished the job and it was all good, but I was DAMNED if I was going to drive it about 450 km to Ruawai.

Des was not at all upset, came down on the bus, was really pleased with his truck and drove it straight home non stop without any trouble at all. (Even though the sane technology was used, it was quite an improvement on the Buick & Karrier jobs)

Raewyn and I were down one end of the block one day and there was this cow standing over a dead calf, I got out of the truck, walked about twenty yards C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

120

over to them, and picked up the dead calf thinking I would use it for dog meat. I was about half way back to the truck when at the same time, I hear Raewyn saying something and a noise behind me and here is this cow coming at me. I heave the calf on the back and here is this bloody kid leaning out the window watching this show, and laughing like it is a big joke. Well I can’t get the door open because she will fall out, I can’t wait for her to move because the cow will have me. I can’t get on the back because there are four foot high sides and back on it, as we had spent last weekend picking up pinecones and had tied these sides around the deck to keep the cones on. Shit, I take off around the front to get in the other door. The bloody cow cuts the corner and nearly takes the right hand mudguard off, Raewyn gets a fright stops laughing and starts crying and comes over to the other door, which I could not get open anyway as it was locked so she could not fall out. Fortunately, by this time, I was around the back and in the driver’s door; the old cow soon gave up and buggered off. I have always wondered what would have happened if she had caught up, as an Angus cow even without horns can do a fair bit of damage if they do get you down.

Even now, Raewyn and I have a good laugh over that one. Until Raewyn got married, we spent a lot of time together shepherding, working with our dogs and horses; later, when I started a trucking business Raewyn was my first driver.

Sometimes we sit down and talk for hours about those years.

The L&S had an Agriculture Exchange Scheme with some outfit in England and they had to find some place for this young pommie joker for a couple of months. For the life of me, and others I have asked, none of us can remember his surname I think it was Mac something but his first name was Max and we all called him POMMIE MAX. Des and family have gone, and as we were a man short and Baldy has somewhere to put him, we get Pommie Max. Derek installs him over the road in Des's old house, gets him a bed, and a bit of gear then arranges for him to have his tea with us each night. Between our house and the road there is a creek with a bridge without sides.

The little blind mare Daffy that we had brought over from Waihi Pukawa used to live out there in the front paddock. Blind she may have been but every now and then I would saddle her up and we would have a bit of a hike around the place; let her take her time and she could go anywhere; it was truly amazing.

In a rough or dangerous bit, I would get off and without a lead rope or anything; she would get right up behind me and follow across or around the obstacle.

She had taken a couple of tumbles off this bit of a bridge so I put some handrails on the sides purely for the horse's benefit. However, a local family of opossums seemed to think it was for them as they had taken to sitting out there most of the night. One night Pommie Max is having his tea and tells us that every night on his way home in the dark he has seen these big cats looking at him as he went over the bridge, but was starting to wonder if they were in fact cats.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

121

CHRIST even Raewyn knows what a bloody opossum is and tells him all about NEW ZEALAND'S AUSTRALIAN marsupial cousins. Well I am sitting there listening to this nature study lesson being given by a five year old, to a twenty something year old. When she had finished Max wants to know if they are dangerous or anything like that. Shit no mate! They don't like being caught much, but if you are quick enough and can grab one by the tail hold it up and stroke it under the chin it will sort of go into a trance. They just love it and you hold them like a baby and can stroke them for ages, Max tells us that he will have a go at that some time.

A few mornings’ later POMMIE MAX turns up for work looking like he's had a bad night somewhere, with scratches on his big fat happy unhappy looking face and arms. He had caught the Marsupial all right, but no matter how he did it he could not put it into a Trance, only a bloody Frenzy and in the end let the poor thing go, and go they did we never saw or

you would think even a pom could tell them apart won't you! heard them there again. Christ almighty

Pigs had been coming on to the block through a hole under a fence, and I had the bright idea of booby- trapping this hole with a gun. Now in chapter 14 remember the .303 Ken had under the shed then dumped over the Kaimais? Well somewhere in the meantime I had acquired this thing and just before moving to Te Kopia, the police had an amnesty on handing in illegal guns and what have you.

Well this is the only gun I had and I wanted to keep it, Christ it is almost a bloody family heirloom, so I did not take advantage of the police’s kind and very thoughtful offer. We had not long been at Te Kopia and the bastards decided to have a blitz on these unlicensed guns SHIT NOW I AM REALLY IN A PANIC. Wait a minute, as soon as I wrote’ it is the only gun I had’ I heard you say what happened to the one you gave John Walker ten shillings for? Well I still have it but it is that worn out I am scared to fire the thing, OK! Back to panic—I am thinking who knows I have this thing, it was not long before I am thinking half the people who know about it are probably police informers or some sort of spies for some outfit or other. Right, I have to get rid of it but Shit, I might want it one day, so I want to know where it is. There is this swampy paddock outside the house with a drain running down the side nearest the house, so I take this gun out, scratch a hole under the bank a bit below the water and after covering the outside of it with grease I buried it under a foot of mud. THAT HAS TAKEN CARE OF THAT. Now back to this problem with booby- trapping the fence. On comes the light in my head and I dig up this gun. I just bet when some of you read the word gun when I am talking about a rifle it really pisses you off’ ok I know C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

122

what makes a gun into a rifle and a rifle into a gun, it is the rifling in the barrel that makes the bullet spin. “Am I right? however, this thing is almost as bad as Walker’s one and after being buried in this bloody swamp for half a year I would imagine that there was very little rifling left. So technically, it is a bloody Gun and I have just written 120 words and wasted all this bloody ink to satisfy a couple of clever bastards who were technically right.

The six months in the creek have not done much harm except the little spring that pushed a clip up against the shell rim had rusted away.

You nit-pickers can forget the bloody rifle business.

There was so much rust in the barrel l could not see whether the rifling was there or not, so fuck this! l will refer to the bloody thing as a rifle.

I cut a little piece of rubber off a gumboot sole and pushed it behind the clip and it worked a treat. Well I take this gun rifle up the hill and tie it on to the fence with the barrel pointing down, rigged up a trip wire across the hole and left it to it. We had been in bed about an hour around 11.30 pm when BANG! First, I am really excited about this working, because a couple of educated clever buggers had told me it was a hare-brained scheme, and was a waste of time, because they knew somebody who had tried it and it had not worked. This is a cold night and I figure it is not going to hurt leaving the pig out until the morning. About two

“What if some silly bugger had been poaching up there and has shot himself”? shit an illegal gun, no licence, even if the sod was not dead, I hours later, I am wide-awake worrying like hell.

could see me going to jail for this. I am up there at daybreak to either get a pig or bury some bugger who was still up there. If I had bowled somebody, whatever he was doing up there would not matter. Well as it turned out, I had a nice bit of pork with a clean hole in the middle of its back just behind the shoulders. No work today SUNDAY so after breakfast Raewyn and I take this pig down to the paddock where all the excitement with the cow had been. The cow is long gone.

Now some government outfit had drilled a hole there, found steam, and had put a high concrete chimney funnel over it. The steam shot up this pipe, condensed and ran out the bottom as boiling water, then into a half round concrete drain about fifty metres long to cool off before running down the paddock. This is a perfect place to scald a pig, in fact it could have been designed by GOD himself.

Well we walk up the drain until we got nearer the vent and the water was not quite boiling. I have the pig, and Raewyn has the bucket with towels etc in it. The bucket is to put the liver, heart etc in. I set the job up; bucket etc spread out on C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

123

one side, Raewyn sitting on the other side, pig belly - up in the drain. There is not all that much water going down, about a bath tap half turned on. The water banks up behind the pig then flows over it about one inch deep bloody perfect I start to scrape the hair off the belly, it comes off good. I finish the belly and go to roll it over onto its side. One foot in about an inch of water not deep enough to get into my boot and the other on the bank I lift the pig up to turn it over, and hello the boot in the inch of water is now under six inches of frigging hot water, and the boot is full. Raewyn is on one side and all the gear is on the other the only place for the pig is back in the drain, so that is where he goes and I start to head down the hill to shove my foot in a water trough; and tell Raewyn to come. I look back. No, while I am standing there cooking my bloody foot inside a boot full of boiling water, she is watching this pig floating down the drain. Tear back and grab her, and head down to the trough. You would think that by now the situation is reasonably under control. WRONG! Now according to this little girl that bloody cow is still over there behind that tree, and there is no way we are going down there.

She knew the cow was not there she could see that the cow was not there, but her imagination knew no bounds. l will tell you why later .

Shit; anyway I cool my foot off, put my dry sock on the sore foot, shake out the boot, go back, get the half cooked pig back up to the right place and finish the job.

Back when I was telling you about the drama with the cow, I mentioned pinecones; well here is another cow story mixed up with pinecones. While mustering one day I came across a big rogue tree that had come down in the wind and it was loaded with huge pinecones. Therefore, the next weekend we rigged up some sides on the truck and took off to get a load of cones. This gully was slightly down hill and because of washouts and downed trees, in places there was not much room. I knew there was dead cow down there, but when we get to this old girl, I find I cannot drive around her. The remains were a foot high and about two months deceased, so there should not be too much under the skin. I figured the front axle should wipe the skin and anything higher than the axle away, the differential will spread the rest out, and when we come back up with a bit of weight on the back wheels, we will be all right. I charge onto this carcass dead centre, front axle is over, and then dead stop. The drive wheels are going round like mad, the diff is clear, but the ground on each side is sodden with decomposed animal, water, lard, etc; it is flying off the wheels all over the place and stinks like hell. We finally got the bloody truck off the thing, but what a job.

Anyway, we get our load of cones and get back up the gully and home without any more drama. If you look on a map today, you will see a road called Coats road.

Between Coats road and the Waikato River is where we got the cones.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

124

Before starting school, Raewyn did not have much to occupy herself with so we used to go outside and point out hills, objects, and other things we could talk to her about that seemed to interest her. I cannot remember how it started, however, I do remember that this creek in front of the house and the swampy drain on the other side were a constant worry, and Raewyn was no different from others, she liked getting into them both. Somehow Indians got into a conversation one day and she was told the bad Indians, who were always chasing the good cowboys lived up the hill where the creek started, hoping that would enough to keep her away from them. Now this rather backfired because it was not long before rather than the Indians being bogey men they became MY FRIENDS and instead of keeping away from the creek, we spent hours in the creek looking for INDIANS . Daphne has just reminded me about the time we were talking to Raewyn about her FRIENDS and I said, “You see those two small clouds over there? Well those are smoke talk from your FRIENDS ”. “What does it say”?

Raewyn asked. Daphne said it says “Hello Raewyn”. GOD ALMIGHTY you know what happens now, I have to light a fire, put some diesel on it to make plenty of smoke, get a sack, and send smoke talk back to her FRIENDS. One day we had weaned some calves and the three of us had taken the cows about two miles further down Te Kopia Road. The calves had already gone away in another direction, we get back to Derek’s gate and he goes in, then its about a mile along to mine and Des’s gates. Des goes home to get his car then goes down to get the kids off the bus. I have just let my horse go and fed the dogs. Phone goes, Baldy is telling me that a cow has turned up back at his gate looking for her calf and seeing that he has let his horse go and fed his dogs, I had better get back up there and take her back, before the whole mob is back looking for their calves. Never mind that my horse has been let go or that my dogs are having their tea , it’s a mile back up the road to where this cow is and Des is still not back. By the time, I pull the dogs off their tucker, get the horse ready, and get up to the yards where this bloody animal is I am not too pleased. After ten minutes of hooling the dogs onto this cow and belting her with my stick, Mr Foster the TEKOPIA MANAGER is down his drive and standing there in his slippers telling me he’s never seen or heard such a bloody disgusting performance in his life, and I was to get the fuck out of it and go bloody home.

The old bugger breaks a little twig off a nearby tree, flicks the cow on the nose, then the arse, and followed her back down the road to the paddock, I slunk off home like the idiot I felt and was. That was another instance of Derek’s stockmanship. I had six dogs, a horse, and a big stick Derek had no dogs, no horse, and no boots and a little stick. I would not have gone within fifty yards of the cow on foot; Derek walks right up to it and flicks it on the nose. All Muscle and No Brains, I bet you have heard that before.

Most of the private farms around there had started as parts of one block or C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

125

another and just near the corner of Puaiti and Te Kopia, roads lived a single joker.

This guy and Baldy were mates, it probably had something to do with their marital status at the time, and it was well known that he was not above buying anything that he could use, e.g.’ things that had fallen off a truck. And man there were a lot of trucks going up and down those roads; stock, fertilizer, fencing material, pipe fittings, motherless calves, salt blocks, how this guy never got caught I will never know. I was always worrying that the shit would hit the fan and we would be guilty by association. I do know that neither Derek nor I were going to retire from stuff off the back of a truck, but others must have, just from what you could see in his yard when driving past. I had come across a half- dead motherless calf one day and sneaked it down to this guy's that night after dark, I think he gave me a couple of quid for it. He made it quite clear that he did not care if they were motherless or not and as Baldy had made it pretty clear that nothing was going to fall off TE KOPIA’S truck I never went near him again.

Te Kopia's truck was probably doing a 100 km a day without turning a wheel so nothing was going to fall off the back of it anyway. The block had one of these bedfords brand new, Derek kept it locked away as if it was made out of gold, man I would have loved to drive it, but not for you Bobbie, says he.

(l

What really pissed me off was I was sure Derek did not have a HT licence, was wrong he did have) but i knew i bloody did.

Many years later, when I was screwing the speedo on Waiotapu’s truck forward after tipping the petrol into my Bedford I realized why Te Kopia’s truck was kept locked.

Another family a bit further down were more our style. Duncan Glengarry and his wife Jean were a bit more established, and the Conservation Department had ruled that all his creeks and gullies were to be fenced off to keep the stock out of the waterways. There was no way to transport this gear in there without a lot of bulldozing, but that would cause erosion, so was not on. As helicopters were too expensive for a job like this Baldy gets the job to packhorse this stuff in. We get a couple of horses and some pack gear organized and next weekend we are all set. We get to this heap of gear, load up the horses, and are off. Some trips were a piece of cake but, others would be more exciting; a post or coil of wire would move, the horses get a fright, and then there would be posts, wire, and boxes of staples flying everywhere. I bet the buy- anything joker down the road was hoping we would have to cross it some time, because that would have doubled his source of supply. Then he could have stuff off the back of a horse as well as off the back of a truck.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

126

Well time marched on and in early November, we get a letter from Anne Bryan, saying that there was a share-milking job going on a rough place about half way over to Whangarei. For years before the old fellow that owned it died, he had leased it out for grazing and it had become completely run down. The estates trustees had decided to farm it for a while before putting it on the market.

Anne went on to say the place was in shocking condition and as it would not carry many cows and knowing we would be unable to afford many they thought it might be just the opportunity we needed to get started. Des would lend us a few cows, and if we could buy a few, they were sure State Advances would lend us the money to buy enough to make the job viable. Baldy gave us a few days off to go up there.

We get up to Te Aroha and Mum lends us her little Austin to use. What a trip hot, a small car, but it never broke down and used bugger all petrol. Anyway we go and see the place; talk about rough, the shed was derelict, the old house was up on about four foot high piles at the front, the back was sitting on the ground and the floor was that uneven it was like walking across the deck of a ship in a great storm. We go and see State Advances, and if we can save so much money ourselves by the end of next June, it would be all on.

There was no way we could save that much money on the Survey wages, but a few weeks earlier a truck driver had told me that he was getting £18 a week. We were on about £12 and I thought if I could get a job truck driving, we would be able to save enough. We get back to Mum and Dad’s and the old man knew Bruce Clothier who owned Waharoa Transport, and asked Bruce if he needed anyone.

Bruce said he did, and told Dad to get us to call in on our way back to Te Kopia.

We called in and saw Bruce and yes, he wanted somebody who knew how to handle stock, and gave me a job on one of his two stock trucks. This was Thursday but I had to be ready to start work on Monday. We had nowhere to live, but Bruce told us not to worry about it that he would find us a house and we could pick up the key when we got there. We head back to Te Kopia, and I was a bit worried about how I was going to tell Derek that I was leaving without giving him any notice. I need not have worried about that, because as I was AWOL absent without leave for two extra days I was sacked anyway, and the sooner we were out of the house the better because he had already taken a new guy on, and he wanted him in the house ASAP. Derek had rung the old man to see where we were, and DAD had told him I was down the road jacking up a job.

Derek did not muck around and l did not blame him. Well that was all good. I made a few phone calls, sold horses, dogs, and my saddle.

Packed everything up and in two days we were on our way NORTH. While writing this I found the list of prices I got for the dogs etc, on the inside cover of a tally book. TURK £20, JACK £15, BOW £10, WAIT & LOU £5, KILT £8, SADDLE £25, ASSORTED GEAR £20, Nearly 2 months farm C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

127

wages there, The truck driving wage less rent & meat was no better, but you did get paid for the overtime which made a big difference. I sold three horses and delivered one of them way out past Murupara to Te Whaiti, the record of what we got for them has been lost. But, those two phone numbers in the book cover I think relate to the horse deals.

Farm wage £13, a week truck driving £18, a week., God ALMIGHTY WE WERE almost

Getting these photos was as hard as getting a kid to sit still. fucking

millionaires.

3

FROM THE LEFT. It's “BUGGER OFF I don’t want my picture taken. Then it's “BUGGER YOU alright. BUT I am not BLOODY WELL going to SMILE. Then it's "There is nothing wrong with this BOB AND YOU JUST DO NOT KNOW WHO MIGHT SEE ME. SOME DAY! ONE DAY! DO YOU ?

A lot more people than either of us thought then, TIP me boy.

Yes, that old bugger saw off a lot more dogs, most of which were better working dogs than him but 'not a better mate’ and old TIPPY moved to town with us. Unfortunately, he had to spend too much time on his chain. The section was not completely fenced, he did not get enough exercise, old age caught up with him in a hurry, and Daphne had a vet put him down one day when I was at work. Tippy was three years old when I got him in 1957 and this was 1967 10 hard years keeping up with me.

About this time, the crawler tractor had just about had its day in agriculture work, while they were still used for some development work; the wheel tractor was taking over the cropping and re-sowing new grass.

PRE 1967

1967

POST 1967

While all makes were used, the little Grey Ferguson did more than its share.

They were light, they were low, they were wide especially when fitted with dual C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

128

wheels, you would see these little grey rats way up on faces and hills where most shepherds would lead their horses. The contractors would hook giant discs on the back and to keep the fronts down they would hang great blocks of concrete on the poor little buggers. they just could not kill them LEFT, A little Ferguson, and some pommie factory made & supplied gear.

RIGHT A little Ferguson and what some kiwi contractors hung on the back of the poor little buggers.

RAEWYN’S BUS STOP

POMMIE MAX

OUR HOUSE

DEREK'S HOUSE & WOOLSHED

Along with the 4x4, BEDFORD here's another bit of gear BLOODY FOSTER would not let me near, a 4x4 FORD COUNTY.

Shit o bloody dear.

Well we load up the old Ford and head off to Waharoa no dogs or horses this time, just me, daphne, raewyn, tippy, and a bit of young henry.

Goodbye, Te Kopia Block L&S , hello Waharoa Transport C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

129

Chapter 19

WAHAROA TRANSPORT

22600 words

We arrived at Waharoa in the dark and go to pick up the keys. Bruce says to follow him and takes us over the Railway lines about two hundred metres to the local fish shop and asked the guy behind the counter to cook us up a feed, and put it on Waharoa Transport's bill, and to give us a yell when it is ready. He gave Daphne the house keys and said Graham would yell out when our tea was ready. We followed him outside and he points to a path besides a building with a notice that said BNZ BANK OPEN WEDNESDAY & FRIDAY and told Daphne the house door was down there. He then showed me how to get the truck around the back, and said that he would see me at eight am in the morning, and left us to it. Graham from the fish shop brought our tea over and introduced himself. We get the gear stowed away and hit the hay. What a day. This flat sure was different from a Survey house. The front area on one side was a doctor’s surgery three days a week, and the other side the part time bank. Daphne had to keep the surgery clean and the doctor knocked ten bob or something off the rent.

There was a reasonably sized lounge but the kitchen dining area was small as were the two bedrooms, inside loo and bathroom, outside wash house, the whole thing was clean and tidy we were happy and it did not go with the job. For the first time in my working life, I could lose or change jobs and not have to move out of the house.

In the morning, when I get over to the yard Bruce tells me there is still some hay to tidy up on a job started yesterday, and the baler would be there about 11 o’clock this morning. If I could take that truck, an 8-ton Commer about the same year as the one that Griffin’s had and those three boys, get out there, and sort it out, he would get a message to me later about the next job. Shit o dear, just because you have a truck licence, it does not make you a truck driver! Now the truck is right inside this shed, and there are about eight trucks between it and the pumps out on the edge of the road. I am thinking that I cannot ask the BOSS how to start this thing, let alone where the gears are. A bit of quick thinking is required and I say to these three lads, "Have you boys been on this truck before?" "YES," "Can any of you drive it?" "YES", "Ok you take it out to the pumps, fill it up, and check it out. You show me which loader is ours and you get a grease gun," by the time we get the loader greased, out to the truck, and hooked on, it is obvious that the new boy was not going to have a disaster and everyone went about their jobs. I found out later they always put the new guy’s truck down the end of the shed to see how good he was. Not long before I started, another BOB had to get his truck out on his first day and amongst other things on the back was a length of pipe, which he promptly shoved through another truck’s windscreen. Anyway, my truck is now facing down the road two boys are on the C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

130

back, and the one inside knew where we were going so the day went without any problems.

I had not thought to take any lunch but the cockies apparently usually fed us on each job, what a difference from shepherding. This is early November 1966 and the hay season had just started. I just loved it and the Commer soon became the number one hay truck in the place; we picked up more hay than any other truck in spite of the fact the Commer was dedicated to stock work.

Bruce only gave me a few days before sending me into Matamata to get my trailer licence. I turn up and the cop comes out and bugger me is JACKWEEB, the guy who gave me my HT licence in the truck with the DODGY gearbox. He gets in and we go for the drive and back around a corner or two, answer a few questions and he signs my bit of paper to take down to the council office to get my licence altered. Now because he had not said anything about seeing me before, or anything like that I thought he had not recognized me so I kept my trap shut. When he gave me the paper, he said "I see you are now a lot better at changing gears", and he thought it was a big joke, After he had given me my HT licence years ago, he must have realized that he had been conned. Jack was to become one of my worst nightmares for a little while because of the amount of tickets he gave me in the early days. I could never work out why I did not get the sack. I knew that Jack went over to the yard at nights and sometimes during the day to do panel beating work on the trucks. He had been a panel beater before joining the MOT and I think it worked like this. Jack gave a Waharoa truck a ticket then showed it to Bruce then they would have a laugh and tear it up. Bruce was grateful and gave Jack another dent to beat out, then Bruce would go crook at us. It worked well for everyone. Jack not only got extra work, he wrote out many warning tickets. The MOT was not a revenue gatherer as the police are today and his boss thought he was on the ball, Bruce got a cheap panel beater, and the system kept us on our toes, I think Bruce gave him a list and if the new man was ok his name was taken off it.

I am very busy, truck, and trailer most of the time, Auckland, Horotiu 2 or 3 times a week, Matamata, Morrinsville sale every week, and helping the others on metal and freight. The other stock truck was a six wheel KEW Dodge with a three pen stock crate and we did many stock jobs together moving herds and things like that. Stock, Metal, and Hay were what the Commer had on its back most of the time, but I carted a lot of fertilizer too, bagged, and bulk from the Mount and Morrinsville. It was good to drive a bigger unit and tow a trailer, but man when you had to unload fifteen ton of bagged manure and stack it in a shed on your own, you knew you had had a good day; but young fellows soon bounce back.

When work on the Matahina dam was C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

131

finished Bruce bought dozens of the 8x10 foot huts and I went down there each day for a couple of weeks and carted two back on each trip, as soon as I got back about 4.00 pm they would drag them over on to four wheelers to be delivered tomorrow. No fork lifts then. I would fuel up and check the Commer out ready to go again, go home, and back down in the morning for another couple.

That Commer nearly became my whole life. I spent half of it either in it or under it washing, polishing, painting, and putting on more lights. I came in late one night and Bruce looks up at me when I got into the office, 'SHIT is that you Bob, I thought a bloody Christmas tree had just come into the yard," he says. Of course, there were some shit jobs too. Emptying the ash hopper at the dairy factory was not much fun. Bagging coal out of the railway wagons was not all that it was cracked up to be either, Bruce was the local coal merchant in Waharoa and once a week whoever was around had to deliver the coal to the factory houses. There were always plenty of helpers, there were always young fellows future truck drivers hanging around, and Bruce would give them a bit of casual work.

One day when I am doing this coal job, we go down a street and there is a delivery on the left, and there’s a goat tied on the right hand side of the road, on the right hand side of his drive. I know that this is the last delivery down this street and if the goat is there when I back out to the right so I can go back down the street, I might run over it. I told one of these boys to shift it to the other side of the gateway. We get this guy’s coal into his shed and he comes out and says that Bruce has rung, and I am to take two bags down the street a bit further because this woman has rung up a bit late, and it is not on my list. Fine that is no problem.

Fire up the truck back out the gate, now I have to back out and turn left to go up the street, not right to go down it YES, I backed clean over this goat. You try to convince some goat owner who is almost frothing at the mouth that you shifted his goat so you would not run over it, two minutes after you have in fact run over it! Bruce got him another goat and he kept buying Bruce’s coal.

Most of the stock we moved was dairy cattle as we only had a few sheep clients whose sheep we carted, and one was way out at Scotsman’s Valley, whose wool we took over to the Mount, and Bruce was determined that he was going to keep these clients. One of these sheep guys was an old fellow up behind Waharoa. He had a double-barrelled name, drove an old English car, and dressed like he was Lord something or other. One day Bruce tells me to go up there and pickup a couple of hundred ewes to go to Horotiu and he would see me about my next job for the day when I got back. I am a bit puzzled -- up there, load up, hour and a half to Horotiu and back four hours, -- should be back before three thirty. Then he says old [what ever his name was] had told him a few needed dagging, and I might have to wait while he dagged them. MR CLOTHIER wants to keep this guy happy and keep his work, so he tells him do not even start C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

132

dagging, leave them. BOB is an ex- survey shepherd he will knock the shit off them in no time. I get up there and this old bugger is all smiles and tells me what a good guy Bruce is to send me up to dag his shitty sheep. No wonder the BUGGER did not know when I would be back because he did not know how many sheep were going to need dagging or how long it would take me. Can you imagine a truck and trailer sitting there for hours today while the driver is dagging sheep. I do not think you could find many drivers who would nor could dag 100 odd ewes, then spend the rest of the day in his cab smelling of sheep shit. There were about half them to dag but his gear was good and the shed worked well, so it did not take me long. I think I had taken Tippy up to help me load these sheep and the old boy gave me an old ram for dog meat. It was the fattest ram I had seen for awhile, I did not want the ram for dog meat; I had bigger plans than that. A guy by the name of Bill Brinkley, who was driving the six wheeled S Bedford Waharoa had up at the Kaimai tunnel, carting the rock and stuff away as it was hauled out, had not long ago asked me to keep my eye open around the farms, and see if I could buy him mutton. With his big family, meat was too expensive at the butcher’s shop. I tell the old boy thanks for the ram it will keep the dog going for ages, and fire it in a front pen with these sheep. Get his sheep over to the works and get home with this ram. Now there is this empty section next door. I shoot the ram into Daphne’s wash house, and go back to work, the old boy had rung up Bruce with such a glowing report on how I had dagged his sheep for him; Bruce thought the job was secure for another year and told me to have the rest of the day off. So I am down the road to the farm supply shop by the factory, buy a roll of netting and some standards, off home and it does not take an ex Survey Shepherd General long to smack up a bit of a fence like that. I had spent plenty of time on both sides of a lamb-docking pen as well, so it is not long before the ram that went into the washhouse, came out, and went to his new paddock as a wether. A few weeks later, I saw old Bill Brinkley and told him I had bought him this big wether. Bill brings the money around next payday, pays for, and picks up his RAM / WETHER. A bit later MRS BILL sees Daphne in the street and tells her what a lovely bit of meat that sheep was. GOD I had many a laugh over that.

I had been paid truck driving time to dag these sheep, then I made as much again on the deal, with the ram / wether, the only bugger that missed out on the whole deal was the poor bloody dog Oh Well That’s Life.

I was always on the look out for some sort of deal and about five miles north of Waharoa I noticed what looked like an old sand pit, or something that had been dug, in about a three acre paddock. There was that much old junk in it there was no way the farmer could put stock in it. I get sent in there one day with about twenty wooden farm gates for this guy. He starts moaning that he is going have to paint these things, and that it is such an awful job. I ask him what would C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

133

he pay to have it done and he tells me, and I think that is all right so I tell him I will come back on my truck and take home five at a time, paint them and bring them back. We get the deal with the gates out of the way, and I asked him about his rubbish dump and he tells me that his Dad had used it as a dump, and it has not had an animal in there for years. When I told him that I would clean it up for nothing if I could use it for two years, FREE he could not say yes quick enough.

Crikey Dick, I am getting to be a wheeler and dealer, section in town, 3 acres out here. I used his tractor to heap the rubbish up and BRUCE’S truck to cart it away.

I even managed to swipe the odd bag of manure from the works.

Some time earlier I had delivered this new compressor, spray gun, hose etc, to a place not far from home, and the guy had asked me, did I want his old one, and like a bloody idiot, I had said no. As soon as I got off work, I tear up there in the car and ask this guy if he still had it, yes he has it, and I can have it for ten bob. When I told him that he was going to give it to me before, he says yes, that is right; but that was before he knew I wanted it. So I paid him ten shillings and learnt a lesson never say no to something free. Next Saturday I picked up the first five gates and the paint, took them home, and painted them and so on until I had done the lot. That spray gun etc was ten bob well spent but would have been better if I had taken it when it was free.

We had not been there long when while in Te Aroha one day I spot this 1952 Chevrolet car in a car yard talk about love at first sight I pull up and bugger it the bloody place is shut; car yards were not open seven days a week then.

Phoned the after hour number. NO, we cannot come back on Monday. Down he comes and in we go. Now this was a huge step up from the Vanguard and the Ford truck.

Even the dog thought he had come up in the world CHEVROLET IN, FORD RETIRED BUT STILL HERE.

Daphne did not have her licence yet so we took the truck back to Dad’s and went home in the Chevy. Within days we gave her a good run when we went up to see Des Bryant to tell him that we were not going through with the share milking deal, which in hindsight was either the biggest mistake, or the best decision I ever made.

When asked, I now tell people" Never stay on a job simply because you like it, or you think it will last as long as you want it, if you get the opportunity to alter your future for the better take it. However, always do a realistic, reality check first. Do not stay just because you have a nice house to live in (not yours) you have a good vehicle to use (not yours) you are the boss of others but not yourself, the list goes on.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

134

We are in Whangarei with this flash Chevrolet and the water pump falls to bits. We only just had enough money fix it and get home. This is what I mean about being realistic, when what I just said about taking opportunities, you have to take a reality check as well. Here is us talking about buying cows and borrowing money yet we only had enough money to fix a water pump and buy a bit of petrol. Without inheriting wealth, winning or marrying it very few people make their own entirely. MONEY MAKES MONEY I know people who have ended up with family farms or businesses and I know they have worked harder than a lot of others. People remark that so and so are hard workers and deserve all they have, but the thing is, if you take over an existing enterprise and work hard, you can use that enterprise to pay for it. It is a different story when you have to work and save to get the farm or whatever to start with. Some do but most give up before they start. “What's all this to do with Waharoa, I hear you saying".

We get home and everything is good Raewyn’s school is only around the corner and she comes home for dinner. Nana is just up the road, my little brother Ken and his wife Del have twin boys Kevin and Kenny, and another on the way.

They are on a farm at Wardville just up the road share milking. However, Ken took the opportunity without the Realistic Reality check and no family money behind him. They battled on for a season but in the end could not win.

Daphne is eight months pregnant with Henry and the Chevrolet blows the top off a piston, now this is not good we may not be out in the sticks anymore but in this situation, we need a car. Of course bugger all money, but there is a joker out at Walton who owes me some money, which is overdue. So we head out there on the Ford, which was no longer registered and is now illegal. Fortunately, I take a mate with me, another Waharoa driver, and another Bob (Bob Milne) because I thought I might have some trouble with this joker. Yes, this joker has no money but he has a 1939 CHEVROLET that is going. Bob and Bob have a confab and decide that the 39 motor would go in the 52 chassis. Then with a bit of trepidation we informed the debtor that we were going to take the 39 chev, as he cannot pay the money he owes. Blow me down with a feather he is that happy he produces six bottles of beer and we have a pleasant hour or so. Bob drives the unregistered and unwarranted truck home; the other Bob drives the car with no papers, receipts or any paper work home. Both Bobs' are drivers and need their licences, both have been drinking, neither gave it a thought, and we got back safe.

Now the real drama starts. Bruce has about eight boys I do not think any one apart from him and Rose knew quite how many, but he understands the urgency of my situation with the missus as she is. Yes, I can use the pit and that side of the shed to do this big engine conversion it should all be over in one night.

Bob and Bob tear into it, both motors are out so far so good, morale is high. Then shite the 39 sump is hitting the 52-tie rod, by now all the pieces are on the back C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

135

of the Ford truck that has no sides or tail board. Right I will explain this Bob business a bit before I carry on with the car story. The other Bob is shorter than me so he’s call LITTLE BOB and because I had more than average body hair the BUGGERS called me HAIRY BOB, the mechanic was a BOB too and he was known as GREASY BOB because he was one of those mechanics who was always covered in grease and diesel oil. Little Bob gives up at this point and goes home, as do I, next morning I am back. Next, the two sumps come off then heck the sumps will not swap because the oil pumps are different lengths. Now the oil pumps are both off and they will not fit. By now I had been home and back God only knows now many times, but the way is clearly marked because each time I went over the railway lines everything shook around a bit more, and more parts fell off.

There was a trail of bolts and bits from point a to point b. By this time, I had had enough, and went into Matamata and bought a second hand piston, con rod and all the other bits I had lost, for fifteen shillings. I had spent more than that on petrol going to and from the shed. About two months later, I find out why taking possession of the 1939 Chevy had been painless, because the guy who owned it comes to take it back and unlike my mate, little BOB his mate was a big fellow.

He is not too happy about the motor when I told him it was in the boot and not under the bonnet, I omitted to tell him about how many pieces it was in, but then he tells me it was nearly shot anyway that’s why he had tried to sell it to the guy I had got it off. Probably a good job it would not go in.

In the early days, I painted the Commer up flash, called her kate, and painted the name on the front on the left. Some of us had our names written on the door in small writing preceded by the word driver. The Commer is looking good so Clothier decides to get someone to paint hairy bob in big letters on the front on the right hand side. I am cool with that then some wag writes loves above kate. Then it reads Hairy Bob Loves Kate I can live with that because I did. Some time after that the Commer is getting pretty tired and they decide she is not worth spending anything on, and I move up to a new TK Bedford. Now that nobody will drive her, the old girl spends most of her time parked up. Shortly she will be up on blocks with her wheels off, but for the moment is just delivering coal, etc then some wag painted over the word loves and put the F word there, meaning, that the truck is worn out and theoretically Hairy Bob had worn it out. Stand back a bit and it read, HAIRY BOB fucked KATE. shit, I may have loved that truck but this was going a bit too far, this could bloody be taken two ways and to make sure Daphne didn’t get the wrong end of the stick, this time there was no secret as to who had painted out the sign writing.

There may have been plenty of trucks in my life

but only one woman. While I was still on the Commer and Henry was about a week away Daphne decides to shake him up a bit and came over to Horotiu for the ride. Those old cab-over trucks could give you a rough ride, but it C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

136

did nothing to hurry him up. Even now forty years later Henry still does things in his own time.

After Daphne had been in and out of hospital with two or three false alarms, she announces that bugger it she would have this kid at home. Now I have never been one to shy away from something new, I will generally have a go at anything. Heck, I have pulled hundreds of lambs into this world, but to tell the truth I was not too happy with this decision. A couple of nights later shit man it looks like its all on, and I decide bugger this. Nevertheless, it had to be her decision to go to town. I did not want to hear in years to come how Bob had chickened out, so I shoot out to the washhouse grabbed my old lambing belt and skinning knife and back into the bedroom where all the action was going to take place. I throw the lambing belt on the bed and slam the knife into the dressing table top. shit o dear Daphne is in the car before I get my boots on, over the years she has witnessed plenty of my midwifery skills while on lambing beats, and must have remembered something.

When we get to the hospital and the MATRON hears all this she decided to keep Daphne there until it happened, wanted to have me BARRED from the place completely. One morning 01-07-67, I rang the hospital and they tell me no change, so I go to work and have to go to a dairy runoff at Turangamoana at the bottom of the Kaimai Ranges about twenty miles away. Bruce had told Daphne that he would keep me local until after the birth, and he did. Anyway, I am down this track at a hay barn getting a load of hay and suddenly here is Little Bob’s truck tearing down the track. He jumps out and says Bruce said it is a boy and everything is OK, I am to take his truck and go to the hospital, and he was to finish the job.

One day I am in town and about opposite where the railway station is or was there is a workshop / car yard called CLARKSON'S. I do not know if he’s related to the Tauranga MP but I would not be surprised to find out he is. He has this old ex army FORD 4x4 sitting there. This is the same as the Chevrolet another I WANT THIS situation. I find out it has a big welder on it and it's too dear for me, anyway I don’t want a welder, not then anyway, but years later yes He said hang on for a minute I will give Tidmarsh at Manawaru a call, he’s looking for a portable welder. Now I knew the Tidmarshes from when we were little kids, our fathers had been overseas together and became lifelong friends. Over the years, I had no contact with the boys but quite often ran into Uncle Collin and Aunty Phil at Dad’s place. Anyway, Tidmarsh takes the welder and I get the truck for £200. Now about this time the guy who leased Daphne’s father’s few acres did not want it anymore, and old Bill Jarman says we can use it for free, man I like that free word even though I know it usually ends up meaning the opposite. Down we go on this old 4x4 with a load of posts, battens, and wire. It C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

137

goes ten miles on a gallon of gas at about 35MPH and Otorohanga is about 150 miles there and back so the old girl gets through about fifteen gallons. It had a ten-gallon tank on each side so we get home with a bit to spare. Whenever we filled our trucks up at work nobody ever wrote down how much was put in I will say no more. Next thing the pencil is out no calculators in those days and I figure out that if I am going to cart stock to Otorohanga and use 15 gallons of gas there will not be much profit in that. Answer, "Increase the payload ! HOW?" Make the deck longer. Over to the depot one weekend out with the gas, chop her in half, I got two six feet lengths of six inch channel steel, bolt them onto each end of the chassis. Throw the then too short rear drive shaft in the shed, put her into four-wheel drive then the front axle was pulling her. holy cow I have done a few conversions since then but none like this one. For years when front wheel drive cars started coming into the country and a bloody salesman was telling me how good they were christ almighty I used to have some good laughs at those buggers expense. Been there and done that mate.

Ages later I got a drive shaft made and started pushing it again. The biggest problem now was because I had increased the payload it had to have COF not a WOF, so every six months I undid the bolts put the little original deck back on and bolted up the chassis short and got the WOF renewed, then put the long deck and long bits of channel back on. Every time I saw something cheap at a sale, I would buy it, sneak it onto the TK, and drop it off at the sand pit paddock. Then when I got enough we would load up the 4x4, take it down to Otorohanga and bring something back to sell. Like all good schemes this did not last long because, JACK WEEB the traffic cop said to me one day "We know what’s going on Bob and you had better knock it on the head before my mate at Tirau does"

THIS IS THE FORD 4X4 LONG AND SHORT

stretched

original

Hard to imagine repeatedly going down to Otorohanga in that old GIRL with Daphne and the kids. Once I took eight cows to Horotiu freezing works right through Hamilton in the huckery wooden crate. When Ken left Wardville, he got a job on a farm at Whenuapai north of Auckland. I moved his gear way up there on this old girl and all our gear from Waharoa to Tumunui then to Waikite Block. When we went back to the Survey, I carted horses all over the place on her.

I even carted the old Fordson Major tractor out to where Ken was at Wardville.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

138

We finally sold it to a guy from up north somewhere and about a month later, I saw it on the news buried in sand and surf on the ninety-mile beach. That was the end of her. Not long before she went she started having petrol problems with no gas getting to the pump. There was a blow fly in the tank and it would get sucked to the end of the pipe, cut off the fuel then drift away again, took ages to find it.

When I first got her like most of those old V8s, when you went to start them it was always what was going to happen first, would the motor start or would the battery go flat. I brought a 12-volt battery. Those old batteries had the cells joined together on the top. So I put the starter motor straight to the 12 volt terminal and tapped in to the six volt terminal which kept the electrics on six volts, every now and then I just put the other half on a charger. The twelve volts booted the sixvolt starter around and she started good.

Of course while all this extra curriculum work was going on so was the real work. The Kew Dodge was off stock work and had a dump body put on her like the S Bedford had and they were out at the Kaimai Tunnel. The new stock truck was a six-wheeled Dodge powered with a V8 Cummings and Malcolm, Bruce’s brother, had gone over on to it. I was still driving the TK Bedford pulling a trailer, mostly on stock same as I was with the Commer. The MOW decide to upgrade the road from Tirau to Hinuera 11 km of it had to be raised and widened.

Waharoa gets the job and Bruce has four or five Waharoa trucks there all of the time. The Kaimai job is finished on this side so the Bedford is sold and the Dodge goes to the Tirau job. Little Bob is out there full time on a six-wheeled ACCO International bought for the job, and I am out there part time with the TK Bedford, Bruce also had four outside trucks there full time. Downer’s had a big digger digging out the Kaimai Tunnel so that is set up in a big sand pit on the main road towards Buckland’s, the round trip per load would have been about thirty miles. Not long after I started out there, Bruce bought a two axle ACCO International with a single axle trailer and I went onto it full time. The ACCO had only been on the job a few days when I was in the middle of a spread and in the mirror could see the back of the deck was at about the right angle so I opened the tailboard. Next thing I knew there was a hellish noise, one of the back windows flew to bits and something hit the back of my seat. The deck had broken in half, in the middle where the hoist pushed up to lift it. The headboard was trying to either get in the cab with me or sweep the thing off the chassis. Instead of the front going up and the back down, both the front and back went down and the bloody middle went up like a capital letter A.

Opposite is

iss Acco I nternational modelling her new deck built by Cambridge Engineering, Photo taken by BOB

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

139

TOP-LEFT: My TK BEDFORD. Right; the KEW DODGE (Bill Brinkley). The old 6x4 -S BEDFORD did not survive the Kaimai job so Bill went on to the DODGE and once the Tirau job was finished, so was BILL & the DODGE. BOTTOM the ACCO being loaded and unloading the trailer is out of sight to the right.

THE LOADER: That machine had come from the Kaimai Rail Tunnel job where they had used it to dig the Rail tunnel from the Waharoa side. DOWNERS CONTRACTING used that on this side and the MOW used a laser guide set up on the Katikati side. It could dig frontward then tip side wards, dig on both sides front or above. The Dodge was the only one that could handle a full bucket.

(Brother Ken worked on the Katikati side for a while)

While this job was on Malcolm was doing most of the stock on his own and there was plenty going on back at Waharoa. Bruce has two other brothers Rex and Henry. Rex was there when I started but as Waharoa has three fertilizer spreaders going flat out most of the time, with early starts the drivers kept them at their homes therefore they were hardly at the depot. However as Rex owned some shares in the firm and there was no overtime involved, he always volunteered to go out after hours and fix any problems, be it breakdowns or just an extra driver. I ran out of fuel at Hamilton at about 11 pm one night Bruce goes crook when I rang however awhile later Rex arrives in his little Austin car, fuels up my truck, bleeds the air out, got her going says good bye and is gone he did not ever seem to get upset. For ages, some of us thought Rex was just a dog's body and it was not until later I found out about him being a shareholder.

MAN if I had to go way over there after a big day just to tip a bit of diesel into some idiot’s truck I would have had plenty to say. There were two trucks going over to the Mount each day as well. Another brother, Henry was on the articulated Ford carting mostly bagged flour back to a bakery in Morrinsville, and a TK Bedford was carting bulk stock food to Te Aroha.

Well the Tirau road is finished, Malcolm leaves, and I go onto the sixwheeled DODGE the TOP JOB in the outfit. Now this was big time every C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

140

Tuesday (I may have the day wrong), I would pickup and do a load usually thirtysix cows over to Horotiu come back pick up another load and leave for Auckland.

Sometimes Bruce would squeeze some other job in between if he could.

I would be at the works at about 6.00 pm unload, washout and go out to Massey, sleep in a little room at this big pig farm. These people went into Auckland every day and bought back truckloads of bread, vegetables, and fruit that were stacked up for these pigs. In those days, stock crates had a bin over the cab to get a few extra sheep in and move a bit more weight forward; we would fill the bin with vegetables of all sorts. Daphne’s sister Shirley and husband Clem Bullot had bought a rural mail run at Kumeu. Then just before Rachel was born, I sneaked out there on one trip and pick up a pram that Shirley had given us, it went up in the bin, and then I buried it under the cabbages and other stuff, to sneaked it home. After the vegetables were loaded and the bottom deck of the truck and trailer with weaner pigs I would leave there about 6.00 am and on the morning the Astronauts landed on the moon, the boss of the piggery, his staff and I stood at the front of the truck and listened to the landing on the radio.

After leaving Massey I headed south right down to Reporoa. The whole unit had to go over the scales at the fertilizer store because Tappers paid for these weaners by the kgs, then out to Tappers with the weighbridge docket. Off with the weaners and load up with a full load of porkers and baconers. Then head back north to Hutton’s at Frankton, unload the pigs then on to the Morrinsville sale yards where Bruce would nearly always have a load to go back Matamata way. Nobody at Waharoa transport had to buy vegetables while that job lasted.

On one trip down there, I saw a Vauxhall car outside one of the houses and when I asked about it the boss told me it was his, and did I want to buy it. YES PLEASE so about this time the Chevrolet went and the Vauxhall arrived.

PICKING UP HAY; There is a few stories about picking up hay that have to be told. Nearly every place we picked up hay on we were well supplied with drink and food by the farmer. Now these good people did not have to do this, they paid the same to get their hay picked up as the joker that gives you nothing.

Most of us got used to this VIP treatment took it for granted and took nothing in the way of food or drink with us. There were three trucks on this big job and at

about four in the afternoon, this generous soul stops each truck and says, C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

141

“If you boys get hungry or thirsty you can get some lemons off the tree down my drive. BEAT THAT. It would have been better if he had said nothing; he would have just been a sod not a completely miserable sod that does not quite sound like me does it. A miserable bastard, that sounds more like it.

On another job, the cocky stops us at the gate and tells us where the paddock and the barn are, and disappears. The baler is already pumping them out, we get a load over to this barn, and there’s this nearly brand new David Brown tractor parked fair in the middle. Now we get the first load in, head back for another imagining that the cocky will shift it before we get back, no the bloody tractor is still there. No keys in it, so we get this load half off and I send one of the boys down to the house to get the key for this tractor while we get the rest off. When we get back to the paddock the young fellow is waiting with I thought, the key. "Where is the key?" He says; "He told me to bugger off, he was not having the likes of us driving his new tractor." Shit we load up and I walk over to the house. This gentleman sticks his head out the window and lets me know that he has already told my man not to touch his tractor. FINE we stacked the hay around the bloody thing then over it, completely out of sight, finished the job and left. I saw him watching us go down the drive, so he knew we did not have his tractor on the truck. We had been at the next job a couple of hours when this farmer’s wife came over and said I had to ring Bruce.

First question, so and so reckons you pinched his tractor but admitted that it was not on the truck when you left bloody big mystery says Bruce; bloody huge joke thinks Bob; I told him what happened he laughed and said he will sort it out.

We used to pick up the hay on the Waharoa Air Strip; there was always a good crop and there would be two or three trucks out there. By the end of the day with all the tearing around trying to beat each other we were all knackered but because of all the different techniques we all would have done about the same number of bales. LITTLE BOB would pickup at about 10 MPH then go to the barn at about 20 MPH. Another fellow would pickup and go to the barn at about 15 MPH. HAIRY BOB would pick up at about 30 MPH, get out to take the loader off, see the mess the load was, be that scared that it was all going to fall off and would go to the barn at no more than 5 MPH. When Downers had finished the Tunnel and the Tirau road jobs, they got the job of building the aluminium smelter at Invercargill. I am up at Southdown’s Freezing Works at Auckland it is about 2 pm and ready to come home. The yardman comes out and gives me a note. All it said was, scrub, repeat scrub out your crates and come straight back. Well I get back to the yard about 5.30 pm Bruce says, “Go home and get a bit of shuteye, the boys will load your truck you C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

142

are going down the line, come back at about 7.30 pm." some sleep. I have a bit of a snooze, a bit to eat and tell Daphne I don’t know how long I will be but thought down the line might be Taupo or Taumarunui. I walk past the truck no sound, well there is no stock on board, and there is the shorter two-axle trailer with the furniture box on it which is hooked up to the Dodge. Looking through the sides of the stock crate on the truck even though it is dark, I can see pieces of furniture as not everything is under covers. I get into the office, Clothier hands me a heap of cash and some blank cheques and a bunch of tickets. While this is going on, I am wondering what LITTLE BOB is doing standing there. Then I hear Bruce say the ferry leaves at seven in the morning so do not muck around. Shit, that has me awake and listening to him 100 %. Where am I going Bruce? “INVERCARGILL says Clothier, Bob’s going with you as company and to help you drive and unload." It turns out we have about eight families’ furniture and gear aboard and have to be back at Picton on such and such day. It is all do-able but a bit of a shock. So I nip home tell Daphne, said Good Bye and we are on our way.

Amongst the tickets etc, there is a note-saying find this land agent and he will tell you where the houses are.

this whole trip was not much fun, but a real bloody disaster We get to the ferry terminal and a ship’s Officer comes out with a tape and starts to measure the outfit up and tells us it’s too long to get on, so we will have to wait for the next boat in about 3 hours, we had driven flat out all night to sit here for 3 hours. When the clerk issuing the ticket asks Bruce how long is it he tells him the length of the deck of the truck and trailer, not how long on the ship deck the whole unit will take up.

NO2 Next ship is in place. Now because of the combination of this rig I cannot drive in around the ship’s engine and park on the side, NO I have to back on, about a hundred metres. It does not matter how good you are at backing a trailer but with a long truck and a short trailer without a locking pin with no NO1

However, the big man upstairs was helping me and l had no trouble. lt was at moments like that Little Bob was happy to say he was just there to help unload. Bruce had cut the locking pins off the trailers because one of the spreader drivers had towed a trailer back from Auckland with the turntable locked and had ripped the four front tyres to bits. room, to swing the truck it can be difficult.

NO3 We are cruising through Christchurch and stone the crows the bloody

gear lever just fell off, bloody unbelievable. Find a Dodge agent and get it fixed.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

143

First, I had to pay extra for the boat ticket, now the gear lever; I am making a hole in this cash and have only bought two lots of fuel.

NO4 we took turns driving, did not stop except for fuel and tucker, and got to Invercargill at about 5.00 pm. We had no trouble, although I nearly ran over a blind guy and his stick on a pedestrian crossing as we went through Timaru. We found the land agent and he drew us a bit of a map and buggered off, that was the last we saw of him. We get a feed at a fish shop and find the first of the houses, unload a bit of furniture and decided to call it quits for the day. BOB opens some drawers and next thing I know is, he has got on some flash red silk pyjamas and set up his bed with sheets and the works. I decided I would rather sleep rough than in some other person’s bed and pyjamas, so slept on a mattress with some blankets.

NO5 Next morning at daylight the extent of our problem sank in. Neither of us had anything to do with loading this stuff. There had been no attempt to stack it separately; it has all just been rammed in. There were no furniture wraps or packing, there were just dozens of coal sacks put between things. Some of what is not broken has been, with the help of bits of coal and coal dust, rubbed down to the wood. We cannot find this invisible land agent. Ring Waharoa; what can he do? Just get it off and get home. Well everyone gets a table and some chairs, some beds some mattresses etc., we just split it up got it off and headed home.

NO6 We stopped at Timaru for tea about 6.00 pm streetlights on, truck lights off. Sitting in a fish shop having a feed look says Little Bob there is a motorbike cop looking around the truck. Next thing this cop is standing there. "Who is the driver?" "What is the problem?" I ask. "The problem, SIR, is that your sidelights are not on." Now I often get home late at night and Jack Webb, Bruce’s pet cop had told me as long as I am under the street lights I will not be ticketed for not having any lights on.

Being young and cock sure of myself, I told all this to this schoolboy then the next thing he wants to see is my licence. My mate Bob can see this is not going too well and decides to eat his tea while he can. On the way out to the truck to get my licence l suddenly realized that this Traffic Officer was not moonlighting doing panel beating for Waharoa Transport. Then I thought I might be getting onto shaky ground, so I get into the truck get my licence from behind the sun visor, flick it to him, he opens it and smiles at me. “Oh dear me guess what?" He says.

“This licence expired last month". Well this is not going too good now. Bob comes out and hears him tell me, you have no licence. Shift this truck and I will have you and when I come back after half an hour with your lights on, with any luck the battery will be flat, and I can ticket you for not having any lights on. In addition, if the batteries are not flat and you are still here you will get a parking ticket. Now I am starting to think may be this cop is in some way related to the C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

144

blind chap with the stick on the pedestrian crossing, the one I bloody near ran over yesterday. Same town; Timaru this is getting worse, GOOD GOD he might even have been his dad. My mate tells the cop that everything is OK SIR. What, now we have two Sirs where is this going to end. Bob says, "My licence is all right I will drive." Now this cop is doing well, "where is your licence Sir?" GUESS WHAT AGAIN! now we are all Sirs surely this can’t get too bad with all these knights of the realm involved He looks at Bob’s licence and says " Fine you can drive the truck but how are you going to keep the trailer lights going when you take it off the truck?" Now the other Bob is in charge of the outfit, and he is either going to get a ticket for pulling the trailer without a licence or illegally parking a trailer. By this time, Little Bob is wishing he had had some pudding and stayed in the restaurant. By now, this whole thing is past talking our way out of, and the joker in the fish shop is getting a bit worried because we had not finished our tea or paid him so he comes out to see what is going on. He talks to the cop [who probably gets a free feed in there] and says he has a truck and trailer licence, his wife will be ok for a few minutes and he will drive us down the road to a motel. I can renew my licence at the council office in the morning, if I pay the taxi to bring him back to the shop. YES! YES! By now, I would have agreed to anything. The rest of our tea goes in a doggy bag we pay the bill and are off down the road. All I ended up with was the ticket below on the left.

At that time, you could cart a small amount of goods for personal use without a permit. e.g. SACK OF OATS But you needed a GOODS SERVICE LICENCE to move most things more than thirty miles against the railways. ABOVE ONE ON THE RIGHT is for the furniture to Invercargill note the fee 10 bob or 1 dollar $1.00 C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

145

NO 7

Now we had a temporary licence to cart this furniture down there but that’s all. Exhibit 19472 on the left last page your HONOUR. Clothier has a racehorse and tells me to go to a horse feed place and buy him two sacks of this special oats or something. That is ok we find this place in Ashburton and back into this warehouse. While we are there, two black and whites cruise past. Then every cop between Ashburton and Picton stops us and damn near pull the rig to pieces as they could not believe that a North Island truck would not try and pirate a load home.

NO 8 Around about around Clarence it is dark, then there’s flashing lights behind us O DEAR not another cop looking for oats or something. When he tells me I was speeding, it is almost a relief that we do not have to open up everything and let him see under all the covers and go through all the paper work again. Well one thing I know for sure is my licence is OK and offers it to him. you know what he said?, “I do not think you would be way down here if your licence was no good, do you?" Then he asks me about this speeding again, and I tell him we have been held up by all those cops looking for an illegal load and the nit picking bugger at Timaru, and I don’t want to miss the boat. By now, even I can see that maybe I should have kept my GOB shut about his colleagues as it looks as though he might be starting to change his mind about the licence. I start to grovel with “SIR (another knight) a speeding ticket is something I really don’t need because I have an application in for an interview to join the ministry of transport". He then tells me that they need more truck drivers in the department to catch other truck drivers and he would not give me an offence notice. He wishes me luck and said good night, turned around and was gone.

All that drama at Timaru could probably have been avoided if I had just said” O Dear l must have flicked them all off when l turned the headlights off". Then I suppose this bastard would have wanted to see the licence.

NO 9 We get on the ferry with no hassles and head out. LITTLE BOB is OK

and goes down to the café has a feed, and then goes to the bar and gets pissed.

Now it is getting a bit more than rough out there and BUGGER IT I am feeling crook, then I do not only feel like being sick, I am crook at the other end too. Get into a dunny, hang my pants on a hook, and spend what seemed hours being either sick or sitting on the pan being just as crook at that end. Finally, Bob finds me and tells me that we are nearly there and should go down and get in the truck. I get my pants on and tell him to drive, and then realize that the BUGGER is completely drunk. I get C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

146

out on the deck, things are a lot calmer, and I am feeling a bit better. Look out and what do I see? Half the bottom and one side of the bloody Wahine! Man that did not make me feel any better. It sank forty years ago from this year 2008 Anyway we get off and head home.

N0 10 Now while we have been away first Bob then me had grown little goatee beards. Get inside, lights are out Daphne is in bed, in I get, good to see you etc, etc. Suddenly what the SWEA is this? You are not staying in this bed with that on your chin, go, and shave it off. I had not liked it anyway so it is soon gone.

NO 11 I get to work in the morning and Bruce is really on the warpath the completely bloody job was a disaster, nobody is happy. Perhaps he thinks I am thrilled to bits about my little holiday and sea cruise but I keep my mouth shut.

Well he goes on, it has cost this much to get the furniture moved to the right houses. Its going to cost this much to have it repaired or replaced, on and bloody on, just like he used to about Jack Webb’s bloody JACKED UP traffic offence notices. This much to fix a window that we were supposed to have broken so we could throw the furniture through because they reckoned we could not get the truck to the door. The window was already broken and we had carried the stuff up the path; but no one is listening. In addition, because it was my truck it is my job and the other BOB misses this wonderful debriefing. However, after counting the money I had not spent and adding up the receipts for what I had, Bruce decided the financial disaster might not be quite as bad as first thought. He soon calmed down and decided that it may not have been entirely my fault, the combination of the way it was stacked and the coal sacks probably did not help either, the whole thing was soon forgotten and I could not get back to carting stock quickly enough.

Well the jobs kept coming and we started carting a lot of stock down Taranaki way to Waitara, even down to Patea. Now because of some stink caused by either the Taranaki carriers seeing outside trucks in their area, or the farmers in the north seeing their stock going south and not to the local works, we had to be in and out at night time. The whole thing was NUTS anyway, because there were just as many Taranaki trucks going north. We would start passing each other around Te Kuiti. Anyway, the cockies only paid freight to their nearest port works not to where their stock were killed, so it cost them no more for freight regardless of where the works sent them or we took them. Once they went on the truck, they belonged to the meat works anyway as bugger all of them had their stock killed on the owners account. There must have been some reason for it whether I knew what it was then I do not know, but sure as hell do not know, now I did not mind and made hay while the sun shone. I would do a couple of loads to Horotiu or one to Auckland, get loaded again and head south around 6.00 pm. Now Nan and Dah, my grandparents, lived in Waitara so I would have a feed there. They always waited up or got up and Nan would cook up bacon and C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

147

eggs. Raewyn came down a couple of times but it was really too far and too long for her, but Nan and Dah would make a big fuss of her and tell her how she had a very important job. She had to keep singing and talking and make sure her DAD did not go to sleep. Their neighbour had been driving a stock truck for a Waitara firm and went to sleep going over a bridge down a gully just south of Urenui.

Went through the old wooden side into the tidal creek and drowned, a little earlier or later the tide would have been out and he might have been ok. Anyway, that is why RAEWYN’S JOB WAS IMPORTANT and man she took it seriously, she never shut up until she was dead tired. Now this was a good trip because Daphne’s parents Bill and Dorothy’s place was just south of Otorohanga, right on the main road and I could stop there for a cup of tea or visit the dunny we built when we were at Waihi Pukawa and took way over there on the old Ford. However, it was nearly always too early to wake them up, so I did not stop there much.

This was long after the stock grazing business had

ended and the paddock leased back to the original leaseholder. Good job too, l could see me swapping dead cows for live ones and dropping them off there.

Now if I kept going I would be back at Waharoa by about 7.30 am and Bruce would say go home and get a couple of hour’s sleep and come back at about ten. For a while, I thought this was good. By this time, the Dodge is getting a bit tired and is having a few breakdowns, so on those days I might not get back until after 8.00 am. Bruce would just give me a new list and I would carry on. I soon woke up to the fact that on the days when I went home for a couple of hours and came back to work, I started back on normal time, but if I kept going, I was still on double time. Now you do not have to be a scholar to work out why I quite often got back after 8.00 am with a bit of grease on my hands. I was bloody happy with this arrangement, and Bruce was happy because he did not have to call out some mechanic to get the truck going again. The motor developed a problem that sometimes when it was idling it would stop with a little clunk, would not crank over to start again, and had to be towed or pushed to start it.

They tried all sorts, starter motors, batteries etc but the BOSS did not want her off the road. Finally, it went over to the Dodge agent in Putaruru and they pulled the motor down. The thrust bearings were either worn out and gone, or were never there, and sometimes when it was idling or stopped the crankshaft would move forward or back a bit and jam under the block then needed a bang to get it past.

That is why they never found anything wrong with the starter motors.

Years later I had the same problem with a Nuffield tractor and as this was a rear thrust bearing all that was needed was for the clutch to be pushed in and that put a little weight on the flywheel, which in turn moved the crankshaft C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

148

forward fractionally and away she went. I guess the crankshaft could be levered back if it was a front thrust bearing with a small bar against the front pulley. you certainly do live and learn, well some of us do.

Bruce Clothier is another GOOD BUGGER and like many good buggers was a hard case. At the time I wrote this 15/04/2008 2:13 p.m. and rewrote it at 7/01/2009 2:23:12 p.m. to the best of my knowledge Bruce is still alive and I have not long ago heard is still a GOOD BUGGER., SHIT O DEAR, now it's 07/05/2011 8.45 pm and I know the bugger is still alive.

Right beside the yard in those days was the Waharoa club and Bruce spent a lot of time over there after work, because as the story went he picked up a lot of work there and probably did, but most likely would have got the same amount over the phone tomorrow. I would not be surprised that by the time the session had finished they would have been pissed and forgotten about it anyway, and phoned up in the morning.

Late one afternoon the driver on the bulk meal truck staggers into the yard half cut then tells us that the truck was still up the Kaimais, it had boiled dry and run out of water. This is not the best way to start explaining why you are here and your truck is somewhere else. He is all apologetic and sorry about this but he is obviously half-pissed and tells Bruce the guy that gave him a ride home had some scotch in his car and gave him a drink because he was so distraught about the truck. Now this appears to be logical and making sense to Bruce, so Rex and I are on our way up the Kaimai’s with another truck to recover his truck and the eight tons of meal. On the way up I ask Rex about the way Bruce had taken the news, because this truck’s motor could be seized solid or have the head cracked; all major money. Rex just said that is Bruce; if it happens when you are under the influence you probably cannot help it, but if it happens when you are sober you must have been negligent; then there is no excuse. We get up there and find the truck, put on a new radiator hose fill her up with water, fire it up there is nothing wrong with it so Rex drove it home. We get back and sure enough this joker is over at the club with the Boss as if nothing had happened.

A while before a wooden side had got broken on my truck, a piece of bloody 8x1 inch pine board about 8 feet long. To erase that subject from his mind I bought a new bit for about two shillings and fixed it after work.

Nevertheless, the way he performed, I thought the whole outfit was sunk, the arrival of the receivers was imminent, all us workers would be out of a job and Bruce would be in the workhouse, with his kids starving on the street. After that, I carried a half bottle of whiskey around under the seat for ages but never needed it.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

149

One night there’s this ruckus out on the street, yelling, motor roaring, we look out and here is the six wheeled S Bedford crawling down and all over the street with Clothier and his mates on the back white as snow. They had commandeered a couple of bags of flour off Henry’s truck and were heaving it at everything and each other. This was not a few factory workers having a night out, this was Waharoa’s biggest business tycoon and some of the district’s most prominent farmers.

By all accounts, Bruce is still a good bugger but he is probably getting a bit old now to be that sort of hard case any more.

TALKING ABOUT HARD CASES, this is one about Bruce's brother Rex. Rex had a big white rooster that strutted around his yard like a security guard. However, a couple of times a year there was this big black rooster there for a few days. Whenever Rex had to clean the chimney on his open fire, he and his missus would tie a rope on the rooster’s legs. Rex would get on the roof and pull the rooster up and she would pull it back down, two or three times up and down with all the flapping and scratching then the chimney was clean enough. After a bit of rain the rooster was white again.

Another hard case story about Bruce is the time he was carting metal on a metal road around Gordon on a four-wheeled S BEDFORD. THIS HAPPENED YEARS BEFORE MY TIME THERE but good stories are like many other things they never fade away and are never forgotten.

The truck is well overloaded and he sees the local cop coming up behind him, OK they are on a metal road, so up with the hoist and he spreads about eight cubic yards down the road in front of this car. When the cop complains to Bruce about not playing the game, he is handed a shovel and told, “You put it back on mate, and then you can weigh me." It was cheaper to pay for the metal than pay the fine. Knowing Clothier, he most likely sent the council a bill for two loads then reckoned somebody told him to spread them on that bit of road but can't find the order number. ANYWAY THAT WAS A BIT OF GOOD THINKING. One day there was three or four of us cleaning our air cleaners out by the

(The easiest way to clean them was to take the bowl and element off the carb, tip the oil out pour about half a pint of petrol through the element set fire to it then blow out the soot with the air hose.) Now we have three of fuel pumps.

these things on the ground by the pumps and three trucks all within spitting distance as well. Petrol everywhere, not gallons but enough; somebody flicks a C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

150

match into a bowl little fire but big joke, then whoosh the flames are up the side of the petrol pump and all around. SHIT there is only me and one other guy left at the scene the other bastard the (match flicker) is heading for the shed either to draw Clothier’s attention to the fact we could have a bit of a problem, or to hide in the shit house and deny all knowledge of it. I tell this other guy to get a truck going and just back into the back of the other two and shunt them away. I grab the only thing handy, my brand new swanndri coat, and start to beat this flash fire out with my flash coat , I knew it was only on the surface and was not to dangerous at the moment. But what really pissed me off was that Clothier was leaning out the office door as far as the phone cord would let him go with the phone in one hand shouting at the Matamata fire Brigade “its nearly out don’t come, get back in your truck- it’s getting away again - no he’s got it out”. To fire fighter BOB, this seemed to go on for ages but I guess it was all over in a couple of minutes otherwise the complete bloody thing would have gone up. Clothier was all good job, good show, blah, blah. “What about my SWANNDRI, Bruce?" I will get you another one I am still waiting 50 years later. If the brigade came out, it would have cost more than one swanndri, but Bruce was probably thinking if those bastards (US) would get out of it the whole lot will go up.

I BET. He could already see three new trucks and twice as much fuel under the new pumps than he started with, courtesy of the Insurance Company. I imagine as far as Clothier was concerned after he had got over the initial fright the bastard that flicked the bloody match then decamped was really the only bright one in this whole episode, I guess he was over at the club after work.

these photo's are out of context but fit in here.

WAHAROA’S C robberteebobs books

DODGE

DECEMBER 1969 revised and reprinted Feb 2013

151

Before I left for Tokoroa to pick up a load of posts Bruce told me that I had to deliver them before such and such time, as this farmer out at Gordon was going away for a while the gate would be locked, and I would not be able to get in. When I told him the schedule was a bit tight and I did not think I could make it legally he said if I was caught speeding he would pay the fine and he did. HENCE THE TICKET ON THE RIGHT I have often wondered if he really thought it would come to that.

That and the one down south

for the licence are the only ones l have ever had.

I am quite proud of that considering all the illegal vehicles etc I have had out on the highways and byway of this country since 1957. PS. And every year get more confused about the bloody ROAD CODE. One day I am at the Morrinsville sale and here are two skinny half-grown white pigs (boars) I get them for next to nothing. I have plans for theses pigs like those that I had for the RAM / WETHER. I get back to the yard, park up the truck and walk home. At teatime, I am telling Daphne and Raewyn about some white pigs I have over at the yard so after tea Raewyn and I get in the car and go to get them. I get a couple of coal sacks and we shove a pig in each sack, tie them up, and go home. The pen is all ready; I up end the sacks and out come these two pigs. This little kid can not believe her eyes; she knows and is dead sure we put white pigs in the sacks, but in the semi dark and after spending half a hour in a coal sack, where did the black pigs come from and where are the white ones?

I was in the Doctor’s surgery one day while Daphne was doing her cleaning job and had noticed a small bottle with chloroform written on it. At the time, I could not imagine what they used it for in 1969, but I was soon to have a use for it.

A day or two later when the pigs had acclimatised to their new home I decided that it was time to repeat the ram/wether business. The ram did not make a sound but these pigs; you could not even catch them without an awful lot of squealing and grunting. Remember where we are, a fish shop on one side and a dairy on the other, not the sort of establishments you would expect to hear what was obviously noises coming from live captain cookers. I was not too worried about the noise because the pig thought this bit of surgery was hurting, but because all this noise was not acceptable. I did not want a visit from the C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

152

BLOODY SPCA. On comes the light again CHLOROFORM. Into the Doctor’s, no instructions on this bottle but what else could it be, out me and my little helper go, get everything ready, get the first patient into the operating theatre [Daphne’s washhouse] anesthetize the patient and do the surgery. God this worked like a dream, not a sound the pig is still breathing and in a couple of minutes he is awake and back on the ward. What a huge success! The helper gets a field promotion on the spot and is now a Matron, so now sees herself as equal to the Matron at the hospital. The first pig’s mate is dealt with, in the same efficient manner and joins him in their pen, I have a cup of coffee, and Raewyn’s away to bed dreaming about her nursing career I clean up the mess and go to put the chloroform bottle back. What is this? Maybe the conditions out there were not as sterile as they could have been, and there are grubby bloody finger marks on this bottle. It also became apparent the grubby bloody finger marks are not going to disappear without taking the label with them. It did not matter how I positioned the bottle you could see the grubby bloody finger marks. What do I do? What would you do? Just leave it there and hope to God, that I was not around when the Doctor is asking Daphne about it. There was never a word said if he ever noticed it or not, I do not know.

This Doctors name was Dr BOURKE he was in his late fifties and a good all round type of gent. He had not long been back from a sabbatical somewhere in Africa. We did know the country even the village where he spent most of his time but I am afraid that is long forgotten. He was the sort of Doctor who after he had take care of why you were there he would readily have a chat about anything, that is how we found out about his Overseas Experience in Africa. There was a Doctor at Turangi like him A ONE STOP SHOP do anything pull teeth, get steel out of your eye, anything. Dr Bourke’s speciality was crook necks and when we were doing the Tirau road, a crook neck was a real problem for me. After taking time off and seeing him at his Matamata surgery one day, he told me to call in at his house every night on my way home and he would soon have it sorted for good. That is exactly what I did. He would sit me down on a kitchen type chair, stand behind me wrap his arms around my head and neck and next thing you would think your head must be over there and the rest of you over here. A couple of twists a pull and it was over; after three or four nights it never gave me any more trouble. He never ever charged me a cent for it;

The

free

really is a bloody marvellous word isn’t it? Same old story, people who make things to sell and never use them. Sometimes if the hoist went right up, the ram valve would jam, and it word

was a major job to get it back down. The crookneck was caused by the configuration of the hoist controls, and having to look through the back window then up at the hoist when it was right up, opening the tailgate and keeping the C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

153

whole outfit on the road right where the guy with the flag wanted that load

about as bad as sitting here with a computer set up in a wardrobe in the spare bedroom with the light from a window behind me reflecting on the screen and trying to see around it. spread.

Just

Now any hold up was a BIG problem, because you would get behind, and some of us always had to have the biggest number of loads per day, just so we could strut around the smoko shed like we had done the impossible. We may not have just climbed EVEREST, or been awarded an OLYMPIC GOLD MEDAL, but we felt good about it all the same.

l know l have been all over the place with this but it's bloody cold this morning and l cannot seem to think straight.

When Daphne was back in the Matamata Maternity Hospital to have Rachel she caught them a bit by surprise and the call went out to the good doctor.

By the time his wife found him, got him out of the garden, cleaned up and away, the show was over, but the good doctor does not know that no cell phones then and races on into the room. "Good is it all done?" "Yes." "Well take a bit of blood and get Bob to take it over to Hamilton and have them run this or that test on it. Good". He says again "I can get back to my spud patch" and he has gone home sounds as if he was having a Good day. I get the message and arrive to see this kid and to me she looked like she had spent the last nine months lying on her face. Her nose was FLAT not a Simmonds look at all and when I told the Matron to get a nurse to find a clothes peg, and clip it on her nose to try to pull it out a bit, it was nearly the same as when Henry arrived. The old tart wanted me barred from the place completely forever. I did not mind her ranting and raving, because I had sold the Vauxhall and brought the DODGE KINGSWAY the day before, so I was really rapt to have it in time for this Emergency Medical Dash to Hamilton.

l may have gone back a couple of years but shit not only do l drive a Dodge, now we own a Dodge, not many buggers around here have a car like this.

Little Bob and I were talking one day about farming and as he had come from a dairy farm, he knew what was what when we were talking about the subject. We were discussing how if you found the right sort of road you could C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

154

buy a few cattle and walk them around grazing the long acre. Well suddenly, this turned from fantasy to reality pretty quickly, when I said that when I had taken a horse from Te Kopia out to Te Whaiti there appeared to be a lot of grass along the roads out there and very little traffic. Perfect says Bob so next Sunday we are into his little FORD ANGLIA and away we go. Now I have only had big yank cars for years and you do not just head off anywhere with under half a tank of fuel. I get in Bob’s car look at the fuel gauge; quarter full." Don’t you think we should get some gas?" ", no" says Bob "plenty there", but all the way there and back I worry about the fuel situation but we got back and his wife Ngaire drove around for a week before she put any into it. So we get way out in the wop wops, bush and

grass both sides of the road and we are thinking this cattle grazing lark could work, when fair in the middle of the road walking away from us is this big black boar. Now I do not know how much hunting Bob had done or how many wild pigs he had seen, but this was no wild pig nevertheless he stops, jumps out, pulls out this 303 rifle from behind the seats. Now let us hang on here for just a minute MATE this pig must belong to somebody; he tells me that it is miles since we last

but it does not mean that it will be miles before we see another house. BANG the pig is down saw a house, and he’s right there,

and there are dogs barking up the road a bit, now he concedes it might be possible that this bit of country just might be inhabited. Well we cannot leave it here for somebody to find, so we tear up the road and open the boot. This is a bloody big pig and a rather small car but in the boot it goes, I have a quick look and ask the big time hunter "are you sure its dead." "It’s bloody dead alright you don’t get up after you have been hit with this BABY, " he says as he pats his 303 and puts it back behind the seats. We cannot turn around there, so he charges up the road. Fifty yards and we are around a corner and bugger me there is a house on one side, two on the other. Now this is on one side of the UREWERA NATIONAL PARK and a RADICAL TUHOE faction and WHANAU are on the other side. I am not for hanging around here to hell with the cattle grazing lark let us get out while we can. We just get up the road out of sight of the house; I am looking out the back window to make sure there is no bugger looking, when the car rocks like mad and the boot lid flies up. We jump out and around to the back, this pig is standing up in the boot, blood all over the place all down the back of the car. shit o dear slam the lid down a couple of times the pig collapses, the boot is shut, BOB tears up the road I think it’s starting to sink in that this could get a bit serious, never mind dangerous. There are a few stretches where the road is close to the river and you can drive right to the water, so that is what we did and washed the outside of the car. While we were rolling a smoke we realize that as far as going home goes we had 3 options, we can keep going the way we had been and end up on the East coast at Wairoa, C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

155

then turn left and go home via Gisborne then Opotiki, Tauranga, etc about 550 k.

On the other hand, at Wairoa we can turn right and go home via Napier, Taupo, Rotorua etc about 360 k. In either case a bloody long way or we can turn around and head back past these houses the same way as we came which is about 130 k and just hope no bugger saw this car go past a few minutes ago. We turn back north the way we came but this time when we came around the corner before the house, GOD ALMIGHTY and JESUS H CHRIST, now there is a heap of WARRIORS milling around. This Democratically Elected RANGATIRA waves a bloody spear that was probably only a fence batten at us. [The bloody spell check on this computer says that rangatira should be “RAINWATER "] it means chief, big boss etc. We stop and then quite politely in perfect English he asks if we have just recently passed any cars, (looks can be deceptive can't they) Little Bob said yes “A blue Vauxhall." He tells us. “That astard has just shot one of our pigs." His pronunciation was not quite as precise that time but good enough for us to work out that we were not on their suspects short or long list. God I could not get home fast enough. I am all for dumping this pig over a bank somewhere and cutting our losses; but Bob will not hear of that. It is dark when we get back to Waharoa and hang this pig up in Daphne’s washhouse; hoping one of us has time tomorrow to do something with it. Both of us are flat out all next day. By the time I get home this thing has been dead for nearly thirty hours; it’s been a hot day and it still has its guts in, I get it on the Ford and around to the big time hunter’s

You wanted me to keep it yesterday mate, now you can keep it today. and dump it on his front lawn.

That little section next door at times was getting like old McDonald's FARM. Over the years we had sheep, pigs, lambs, calves all sorts on it. Now picking up bobby calves was not the sort of job you would find many queuing up to do. Nevertheless, I quite liked it, not because of the following story; I just liked doing it. We would start at a given time and have a set route to pickup on, get them back to the Waharoa Station and put them onto rail wagons for their ride north. Some cockies would leave a bottle of beer out for you on Sunday. Some because it was Sunday and we were doing what most thought was a unpopular job, other places as soon as you saw the bottle, you knew this bugger would want you to take an under-weight calf and write it up to the minimum weight. You would take the buggers beer write up the docket and go on. Now you had an underweight calf on your truck, not too much of a problem but a bit of a risk for one bottle of beer. Now so far all that is in this for me is one bottle of beer. Get down the road a bit further and here is this pen with an underweight calf, now if it was genuine and nobody was around you just left it in the pen. However, if the cocky was there you could usually swap it for the others guy’s bottle of beer no paperwork the cocky‘s got rid of his underweight calf and has a bottle of beer. I have an extra calf on the truck. Get to the station, C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

156

fire out both under weight calves and keep two good ones. Everything tallies up MCDONALD’S FARM has another two calves and the FARM STORE sells another two bags of milk powder.

I would be telling a PORKY if I said I only did that once. Every now and then, there would be a bit of a stink about underweight calves at the other end, but when it is raining and blowing and everything covered in calf shit, it is not hard and its understandable how with the thousands picked up the odd mistake was inevitable. Especially when there could be half a dozen trucks, firing calves into the same wagons.

Towards the end of the Matahina job, Malcolm and I see this smallish house in the compound down there. Malcolm is home before me and tells Bruce that he reckons he could get it on his trailer. Now Bruce knows somebody, another mate I may be wrong but think his name was Guest to whom he might be able to flog this house. All the way, home I had been thinking about how I could pay for this house, buy a section and get it there. Unfortunately, by the time I was back, wheels were in motion and the deal with Mr Guest if that was his name was a done deal. Well I kicked up a stink and reckoned I should have it because Blah Blah . Neither Bruce nor Malcolm had known that I had wanted it and now it was a done deal going, going, gone. Anyway, Bruce gave me a hut complete with the magic word free. I get this hut home, spent a bit of time doing it up, put in a big window, and painted the thing inside and out. Soon after, Raewyn and one of the Winiata kids from next door are playing at the Winiata’s place, and decide to light a fire, and they half burn down a shed. To put things right with these good people MR and MRS Tuai Winiata, who were friends with Daphne; I gave them my renovated hut.

You can see the shed behind the car that Raewyn and her MATE tried to burn down

bob, mac donald’s farm. The ACCO & the single axle trailer centre, the Chevy and Ford outside. You can see the netting fence around the big block where the wether was kept until he got over his surgery and I could sell him. Years later when we were at Kaingaroa Forest we got to know Tuai’s cousin Ray and his wife Mary.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

157

I previously referred to the difference between Lands & Survey and Maori Affairs, The Police and Ministry of Transport, the same thing applies to other firms and occupations. Without any disrespect to Bruce and Waharoa Transport, to some people, W Luff Ltd was better than Waharoa Transport, although I was never tempted to go to Bill Luff. Bill told me on numerous occasions that new chum truck drivers were drawn to his place like moths to a light asking for a job, he nearly always told them to go down the road and get a job with Waharoa, stay there for a couple of years learn on Bruce’s gear, then come back and see him.

Little Bob and some others did just that while W Luff Ltd had mainly Mercedes, Bruce had mostly Bedfords l guess that was the attraction. I have always tried to do more with less and doing as much with a Bedford as others did with a Mercedes suited me. The Commer was nearly on her last legs and the TK's had not long on the market and getting better all the time, they were at the time Bruce's choice, I do not know if he, like me had a thing for Bedfords or he just thought he got more truck for the dollar.

There always seemed to be a new one at the yard and one day I got back from Auckland after a bad trip; fuel problem, diesel had leaked all over the show and the cab was full of fumes. I was crook and pissed off anyway, but the thing that really got me going was; here is three schoolboys over at the Railway Yard with a brand new TK bagging Bloody coal. Into the office really bloody steamed up. “Bruce, this is not a fair go; I can't see why we cannot take the ring feeder off the COMMER and put it on that New BEDFORD." They were near enough to being the same, horsepower, the brakes were the same, vacuum over hydraulic; the decks were the same my crate would go on without any trouble, "what

your problem?"

is

He gets up, and comes over to me then in a Fatherly sort of way touched me on the shoulder and with the best impression he could manage of looking hurt and misunderstood said."

Bob any no hoper can steer good gear but it takes a bloody good man to get that old Commer to Auckland and back every day without me having to worry about it being broken down somewhere, and Rex or John [the mechanic at the time] having to find you and sort it out."

Within a month, I had my new TK BEDFORD with a slightly longer wheelbase just that little bit better, than the others were. It just takes that little bit more to make you feel a lot better than the other Joe Bloggs’ in the outfit. At WAHAROA Bruce could always find a TRUCK to suit the MAN, at W LUFF'S Bill always had to find a MAN to suit the TRUCK. Whether I had learnt enough at WAHAROA to qualify for a job with Bill was never put to the test because I was never tempted; Bruce and Waharoa were more my style.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

158

Waharoa did not have a truck wash, But W Luff's did. Bruce never asked to use it, as a matter of principle perhaps, but this day we just could not turn up at my next job with so much shit in the crate, so Bruce breaks his cardinal rule and asked BILL if I could use his wash. Fine, not a problem I understand BLAH, BLAH, tell Bob just back in and help himself. Now W. Luff had a Dodge the same model as Waharoa has and in this instance, ours was bigger; it had a longer wheelbase and a 3-pen crate and the back axles were a double drive. It was a true 6X4 [6 wheels 4 drivers] W Luff's was a shorter wheelbase with a 2-pen crate and while it had 3 axles it was a 6x2 [6 wheels 2 drivers] the back axle was a trailing axle which now is common. Therefore, ours is bigger and I am pretty, full of myself as I drive into their yard. Luff's whole fleet had two pens on the trucks and three axle trailers with four pens. In those days around there with their tight tanker loops, it was quicker to scoot in with a short truck and ferry your load out to the trailer. I could not get into some places and a four-wheeler had to bring the stock out and meet me somewhere; however, I am transgressing again. Right I get to Luff’s; Bill comes out and waves me over to where the wash is, and SHIT, this is going to be tricky. There is a shed on one side, a fuel pump on the other, trucks everywhere. Maybe this BASTARD has set this up to see if I was ready for the move up to a Mercedes'.

As I have to transgress again, I will go back to page 75 and get the rabbits.

Short trucks with long trailers are much easier to back than a truck and trailer of equal length, which ours was, but a long truck and a short trailer is as hard to back, as a short truck with a long trailer is easy. , Anyway, I backed in all right but in doing so knocked over his BLOODY FUEL PUMP, Bill thought it was a big joke and told me it was only sitting there to act as a marker, so the shit always washed out in the same place. I bet that convinced some of his drivers, seeing that Waharoa’s top man could not back his trailer into their wash, they were indeed better than the Waharoa steerers were. Sometimes I wondered how many more years I would have to do down the road with WAHAROA, before I was good enough for one of W. LUFF'S trucks.

Bruce had some medicine ( cure for everything bloody thing ) I think it was primarily for his boys but whenever a driver had made it to work but was not feeling too good and decided that he would be better at home, it was always go and see rose. Out would come the bloody half gallon flagon of this bloody white stuff and she would give you a couple of tablespoons of it. shit o dear the first bottle may have come from the Doctors then the Chemists but I think after that one was gone he just brought a packet of chalk ground it up, mixed it with water and that was that. Strangely, it did have about a 99% success rate and did settle the stomach.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

159

The mirror arms on the Commer were mainly pieces of half inch tubes clamped and bolted together leaving the ends open and there was a bloody spider living in one of them for ages, until I finally gassed the little bastard. Every night this little industrious bugger would build his web from and all over the right hand mirror down to the door handle it was a absolute mission just getting the door open never mind about cleaning all this bloody spider web away.

Consequentially every morning I would have to go and borrow the fly spray off Rose. Finally she tells me she's getting a bit pissed off with this bloody spider as well because Bruce only lets her buy so many cans of fly spray a week and I was using more on this bloody spider in the mirror than she was using in the whole house. I felt a bit sorry for her but technically it was their mirror and the spider really belonged to her more than it belonged to me and I suppose the Commer was helping to pay for her BLOODY FLY SPRAY anyway.

If you were not too happy with the way your truck was running in the morning you always make damn sure it conked out between the shed and the pumps, because if it could get that far according to Bruce, it was capable of going anywhere. Thinking back on it now, for the considerable amount of gear he had, it was quite a rare thing for someone to break down on the other side of the pumps, no matter what was wrong with your truck tonight someone always put it right by the morning probably Rex.

Reminds me of this; Cobbler, Cobbler, mend my shoe. Get it done by half-past two; Stitch it up and stitch it down, and then l will give you half a crown.

If there was not time to do it by the book there was always another way. I remember getting back late one night and there is a real panic on. Malcolm's Kew Dodge is in the shed still loaded with stock, it had some sort of timing problem, a timing cog had stripped the key way or something, and they could not get it to stay in the right place. Remember this was way before mig or tig welders, even grinders like we have today were not all that common, so they get it somewhere near where they think it should be and Bruce lobs a bit of weld on with his old arc welder, try that. no go. Break the weld with a cold chisel move it, reweld it, try that and of course eventually she's right mate put a bit more weld on, in goes the radiator and all the other bits. OK give her the 80-metre test run out to the pumps. Malcolm knows how this works so before he got there he would have known what was what, by the 60-metre mark he would have been either applying the brakes, or as in this case moving up though the gears on his way to where ever. Some of us knew by the time we had gone 10 metres and in some cases before we even moved just what the story would be. Later I realized that was what pissed Bruce off, a crook truck in the yard or shed was just part of the job, and as Bruce always said, there were steerers and drivers. A driver C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

160

would know and could almost sense that something was not right before he got the door open. The steerers would chug out past the pumps always thinking and hoping it will be all right once it has warmed up and then stop either on the railway line or in the middle of Waharoa or alternatively, go out the other way and stop amongst the tankers at the Factory. Either way it was a problem and, the truck had to be pulled back, most of those sorts of fellows all thought they were going to end up at LUFFS, so had to get their quota of hours up here before they went back to see Bill. They did not want to piss Bruce off and just hoped for the best but it nearly always turned into the worst.

Bruce did not seem to mind what we did with our trucks as far as putting on lights and painting our names on the doors etc. Breaking the tabs off the governors and messing around with the ignition and timing also seemed to be ignored, and accepted, you could almost think he expected you to try and get a bit more horse power out of it. The first job I did with the TK after the trailer went on her, took twice as long as it would have done with the Commer because after the diesel motor in the Commer, which you could not really do any buggering around with, the petrol Bedford was a different kettle of fish. Bugger me every couple of miles I would have the cover up and be screwing the governor control in and out, buggering around with the mixture control screw and altering the timing. After awhile I was, 110% convinced that it was running and pulling better and left it alone. Now today I would put money on This; By the time I had finished, everything was back where it started. However, I thought probably I was a bloody mechanical fucki genius. That is probably why Bruce never said anything; he knew that eventually everything would be back where it started because that was the only place where everything worked the best and we would be that much happier. A happy worker is a more productive worker etc.

Although one day I did see and hear Bruce, go APE SHIT over something like that. Little BOB and I had been out at the Gordon Quarry carting metal to the crusher and it had been really wet I can't remember if it was raining that day or had been but on our way home bugger me, there's a fair stretch of road under water and about ¾ the way up the wheels. We have a bit of a confab about this and Little Bob decides that he is going straight through. I know there are plenty of good pulls going up though Cambridge, the Bombay's, and plenty of other places that I have to pull my trailer up miles from home. BOB only has about 7 tones on his truck and was never far from the depot so I am not going through this water and risk having a slipping clutch, but take a longer way home. “shit o dear” Clothier says “Where have you bloody been, Little Bobs been back and knocked off 30 minutes ago and if Bob could be back before 5.00, don’t you try and put down half a bloody hour's overtime." While Bruce's is going on at me about being late I am thinking to myself how bloody typical this is, if the TK has a C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

161

fucked clutch, and costs hundreds to fix the pair of the Basta will be over in the bloody club drinking piss. Before I even thought about overtime, I am being ripped up about ten shillings worth of petrol no road user in those days you bought a time and weight sticker, it cost as much whether you moved the truck or not loaded or not. I tell him if he wants two knackered clutches just say so and after tea I will push the bloody thing back and park up in the water for half an hour. Well while he is getting this message about water and clutches, the phone goes and I buggered off home before he can say anything more. By the morning, he must have had a bit more intelligence on the situation out at Gordon, and when Little Bob got there, he really tore in to him. BUGGER the clutch, the water would have got into the diff and the gearbox though the breathers, the water would have loosened all the dust etc inside the brake drums and hubs, so the lining would soon be history. The pressure plate and springs in the clutch would almost certainly soon be knackered. CHRIST I thought he had gone a bit overboard but not one bloody word to me about how he had misjudged it last

Bruce probably thought eventually he would have just cause to go crook at me about something, and could made allowances about what he said then. night.

When I was 16 and the little FORD broke down at Te Puke (chapter 10) in that garage the owner had a big poster of a monkey sitting under the bonnet of a car with wiring tangled up everywhere.

The Caption read, never

monkey with your

cars electrics as true today as then. Dad always said when we were buggering around with our cars if the manufacturer wanted it that way he would have done it that way that is bloody right most of the time too.

With its twin headlights, wider mud guards and heavier looking bumpers the KM really does look like MORE truck for your dollar, and most of them were, with their 500 cubic inch Diesel motors compared to the TK’s 312 Petrol or 330 Diesel.

Little Bob and I were always looking at pictures of the next sized Bedford and hoping that Bruce would start buying them. We spent a lot of time phoning up the Bedford Agent in Matamata getting prices for mudguards, bumpers, lights or anything else we thought might fit onto the TK cab, we both spent a month's pay getting the grills chromed in Rotorua. Then my mate chops holes in his and C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

162

puts on a couple more headlights, even though they worked the same as factory fitted ones, at the next COF inspection he had to take them out because they were not Factory Fitted. Looking the part was what mattered. The KM certainly looked like more truck and a bit more like LUFFS gear. Strangely enough when BOB finally went to W LUFFS LTD, his first truck there was Bills only Bedford, a KM. For some reason the outfit that carted the butter over to the Mount could not do it one time, so we get the job. it is a one off thank god. Malcolm with the KEW Dodge and trailer is loaded up; they know how much she can pull over the hill so he is loaded to the maximum from the first load. However, the Boss is not to sure about the OLD COMMER, so puts 5 ton on, and sends me away.

SHIT he is almost sitting on the side of the road at Waharoa when I get back " WHAT gear did you get up the hill in?" " HIGH 2nd"." PUT 6 ton on," " WHAT gear did you get up the hill in ?" " LOW 2nd"." " HOOK your trailer on and put 4 ton on each" "WHAT gear did you get up the hill in ?" "HIGH 1st" PUT 5 ton on each" " WHAT gear did you get up the hill in" " LOW 1st this

time I think l have got the bastar because there is no more bloody gears. BRUCE asks “How many REVS did you have to spare?" HAIRY BOB replies" fuck OFF ”!! The hill is the Kaimais, and the road was not quite like it is today. Did you notice how all the bugger was worried about was getting up the Matamata side, never one bloody word about getting down the other bloody side. NOTHING was as it is today, those old girls had the same brake set up you now find on a $50 JAP IMPORT, vacuum over hydraulic and the Commer’s brakes were never much good to start with. (No engine compression braking due to the 2 stroke motor either) Bruce was always more worried about getting us somewhere so why would he worry about us stopping halfway there.

Every time you asked * said * complained about brakes he would hold one hand up to a ear and ask if you could hear the phone ringing and be gone. By the time this butter job was finished, with me pushing on the brake pedal my seat was bloody near out through the back of the cab. Even though you know that all pushing in the pedal did was open a valve, and once it's open it does not matter how hard you push, the brakes are not going to work any better, but for some reason you still push as hard as you can. I have been with this bugger long enough now to know how to go about this brake business, so bloody near demanded that the seat is fixed. “SHIT how did it get like that?"

"From having NO bloody brakes," so he tells John the mechanic at that time to sort out the brakes as well because he does not want the bloody truck off the road again while somebody is buggering around fixing the seat. If I had asked to fix the brakes, he would have put a hand up by his bloody right ear and said, “HANG ON the phone is RINGING." C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

163

Exhaust brakes were starting to be a bit more common on some of the bigger gear, and a salesperson had taken the Boss for a drive in a HINO and parked it out by the pumps. As he is getting out, Little Bob is all questions about this bloody ugly thing, so the guy tells us to go down behind the factory and have a bit of a drive. Now I like to try new things out on my own out of sight, but not my mate so he is up in the pilot's seat and off we go. SHIT O DEAR once he found out about, and how to work this bloody exhaust brake to make it produce the maximum amount of bloody noise, he was hooked on that braking system.

l am sure some buggers just use it to make a noise so other will look at them, never mind about stopping. Will Bob never stop talking about it YEAH RIGHT, YEAH BOB that sounds right etc, there is not much on one time, and we are buggering around with our trucks in the shed and" fuck me what are you doing LITTLE BOB?"." Making that exhaust brake, you reckoned would work last time we were talking about it." I have never really been much of a fan for them, and when I had my trucks, I adopted Bruce's idea. Getting there was more important than stopping; if you are ever talking to my boy Henry ask him about carting metal down the WAIKITE HILL with the old 6 wheel Bedford we built. Simply put, when activated the system inhibits the amount of exhaust that can escape from the motor, and thus slows it down which in turn slows the truck, before the conventional system stops the thing. MR Little Bob's main component was a 4-inch gate valve one with a lever, just pull it around a bit and it shuts the valve. Put a spring on the other side and it pulls it open again. Nothing could be simpler than the simple bugger making it. Now he takes no notice of my advice " Forget it, just take your truck outside, and wash it instead". " No this will work " says Little Bob, and it will sound like the real thing.

I am thinking, It will make a fucking noise all right when half the bloody pistons go out through the bottom of the sump, by the way, this is not a $ ?, TK Bedford but the ACCO International bought for the Tirau road job. (Not long after this episode it was sold, went back, what ever. I often wondered about those two Internationals as neither was ever painted in the fleet colours, leasing trucks was not common in those days, and I have often wondered if they were leased or hired.)

I am not by nature a tittle tattle crawling to the Boss about workmates etc but bugger it, Bob is my mate and if this was the disaster, I was sure it was going to be, he could be in deep poo. " Bruce I think you should go over there and check out what Bob is doing". " Hang on the phone is ringing." OK do not either of you come belly aching to me. OK the gate valve is now somehow or other attached to the exhaust manifold, a cable and lever is hooked up the spring is in place and yes, it made a bit of noise, quite a loud noise actually. An uneventful week or so goes by then one afternoon around 5.00 Bruce and I are talking at the door into his office and we hear BOB slowing down just out of sight to the entrance to the yard. Bruce had got used to it and tells me he doubts if it C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

164

actually works like a brake, and almost as he is telling me that it will be doing bugger all harm, there is this bloody loud bang, and the ACCO comes ROARING into the yard. She is still running, so it is as the master had said, it has done BUGGER ALL HARM, just the price of a second hand International manifold and what ever it cost to put it back the way the manufacturers had made it.

With the Tirau Road finished Little Bob is back into a TK, and Hairy Bob is into Malcolm's DODGE, the two Internationals have gone. With Bob and me it was always look I am better than you are sort of thing. He was already there when I started, and was on a TK about a year old with a single speed diff. When I arrived and went straight on the Commer even though she had been around for a while, it was a notch up on his newer TK because of the diesel motor and the trailer. When the Tirau road job starts Bob goes onto this sixwheeled ACCO. Even though it had single speed diffs, it was right up there with the two Dodges and the big old S Bedford dump truck, so Little Bob felt like he was 10 feet tall. When the other ACCO arrives, not only has it a trailer, but the GEARBOXES. What a bloody abortion of a thing. 1st up we have the normal 5 speed gearbox then behind that is a 3 speed auxiliary box then a 2 speed diff.

SHIT Little Bob is really pissed off. NOW with my 2-axle truck and singled axle trailer we both have three axles but I can carry a bit more than he can. He has five forward gears. I have fucke if I know 5x3=15x2=30 well its at least 30. Try driving a thing like that on a hilly windy road, you had to try to steer it with your knees and change both gearboxes at the same time with both hands. I can just imagine Bob thinking that I would have a job topping his exhaust brake.

Now as you can imagine that really PISSED day we raced each other to see who could loads. Like I said back a bit it was obvious to who was winning by the way we either swaggered or just plain smoko hut.

C robberteebobs books

BOB off so each get in the most everyone else who walked around the

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

165

OKIE DOKIE: At night, we parked most of the trucks at the garage that used to be on the corner on the Matamata side of the state highways where 27 and 29 crossed, so in the morning we would pick up our trucks and head up 29 to the sand pit. However depending on whether it was BOBS turn or mine to take a couple of the others home, who ever was not the taxi on the day had a good start and was in the queue before the others. This was really only between the two BOBS; the other Waharoa and outside trucks could not give a monkeys about who did the most loads. Get your load, down 29 up 27 tip it off where the joker with the flag wanted it, and back to the quarry via TOTMANS road. Bloody Bob was getting a bit too close behind me for comfort, and I was really having to work to keep in front of him. Then about mid afternoon I passed a red Holden on 29 and was just knew it was from the GOD SQUAD [unmarked traffic car] as the previous day a BLACK & WHITE had been down Totmans road. I was pretty sure I knew where this joker would be, as there was only one really good spot for him to wait, so I load up and around again. Bob's right on my tail so on the last straight before this corner I really cranked the speed up and so did BOB. Just before the corner, I pulled over and Stirling Moss (famous race car driver) tears past horn going, happy as buggery because HAIRY BOB has hopefully blown his truck up. A minute later when I come around the corner surprise-surprise here is a TRAFFIC COP with his hand up directing Bob where to park. He never got any where near me again that day, and that night told me how lucky I had been to have that bit of overheating trouble and not get caught by that SNEAKY BASTAR

what you do not know will not hurt you mate or me. The whole stretch of 27 from 29 right up to Tirau was lifted up over a metre this was not just a couple of loads this was a big job. in the unmarked car,

In the early days at Waharoa while we were still working towards taking up the share-milking job at Rawene, I spread a load of metal down a cocky's race and had to drive around an old Fordson Major tractor half buried under a hedge. When I got back to his house, I asked him about it and he tells me it has been there for years but was running when he left it there. Do you want to sell it? If you take it away you can have it FREE, FREE! I told him I would think about it and let him know. When I got back to Waharoa I went into the Railway station and yes, I could rail it right up to Rawene and it would cost £ whatever. Daphne and I have a talk about it then decided to do it, so Ken and I go out to this farm one Saturday with one of the trucks. The joker tells us he is delighted to see it go, but doubts that we will be able to start it so we can drive it onto the truck. We cut the hedge back a bit to have a better look. Everything is flaky with rust, bird’s nests, and bird shit, but C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

166

the radiator has water in it and the sump has oil. Get a battery in clean up the switch etc, and bugger me it turns over. Pour a bit of petrol down the air cleaner she turns over a couple of times and is going and so are we, because straight up there's this great column of ash and red hot bits of shrapnel, red hot bits of flaky rust. What goes up usually comes down and man, it was hot, but within 15 minutes we have it going and are back at his shed. Looking at his tractor this guy could not believe his eyes, and when he pointed towards where we had come from neither could we. His bloody hedge is on fire, obviously from the exhaust sparks; back we go and beat this thing out without too much trouble, load up and head home. We get home and I spent many hours cleaning, sanding, and tidying it up and painted it the original colour. One weekend I thought it was time she had a bit of a run, but it would not start, so we hook it up to the 48 FORD but it is too heavy and the truck just wheel spun. I put on the wheel chains and Daphne tows the bloody thing out towards the street, as soon as the truck's back wheels are on the bitumen footpath and should have heaps of traction I drop the clutch.

SHIT, that stops the Ford in her tracks but not the wheels, and just like that, there's these two holes chopped through the bitumen footpath. She was parked up for a while after that and about a year later when the Rawene deal was off and the big 4x4 FORD was operational I loaded her up, and took it out to where Ken was.

I was talking to Ken the other night and asked him what did happen to the old FORDSON and yes he tells me that he did park it back up under a hedge.

Another day Daphne was wheel spinning the Chevy out though the mud and hit the same footpath at full throttle at about 2 MPH, and chewed off an axle shaft.

I stretched that photo out mainly to remind myself about the difference between some of the conditions on the Government farms and most private places. I had never had to put up with a shed like that but have friends that worked on private place and never had anything better than that.

christ almighty There is more about Henry and that mower in the Waiotapu Block chapter 18

I bought the DODGE while Daphne was in the hospital with Rachel; she knew nothing about it and was not too pleased when she first saw it. However, it was another of those “i want to have that� situations.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

167

1958 DODGE KINGSWAY

One day I am doing the pig job and just North of Earthquake Flat Road there is a Maori Affairs Block and in an empty house window is this big sign SHEPHERDS WANTED. When I get home, I am telling Daphne about this sign not really thinking that it would go anywhere. When RACHEL had been born we moved to a better three bed roomed house, I had a good job that I enjoyed and was happy going to work. You know horses and dogs are like trucks, both jobs get into you, and I had gone as far as I could with Waharoa Transport. If I went back shepherding I could move up, Head Shepherd, Manager. I had called in at the Waiotapu Public House one day not long before when I had heard that Waiotapu was looking for a shepherd. Tappers at the pig farm had told me the manager would be at the pub but I did not take to the guy, so did nothing about it because he told me that only fools and horses worked in the midday heat that was why he was in there. However, I did not see any of his shepherds drinking.

So, I guess at the back of my mind the idea had already been kicking around. As soon as we started talking it over bugger me, Raewyn is already packing. Daphne was keen so I rang the manager, a decent old chap, but I won't name him, because of the situation that existed there. He said come and see me on Saturday, which we did, had a talk and a look at the house, and shook hands, DEAL DONE. Bruce had treated me well and I had a hard job telling him I was moving on. There have been a few times over the years since when we have bumped into each other and had a yarn.

Not long before this Ken and family had come back from Whenuapai, and he had spent some time working on the Tauranga side of the Kaimai Tunnel. When that finished they went down to DEEP CREEK Block Lands and Survey at Reporoa as a shepherd and needed a saddle. I got in touch with Charlie Leach and got him to make two saddles and a bit of gear. I was all set as far as gear went, but only had a few days to find some dogs. We could not waste any time and had to start at Tumunui Block ASAP because a week’s lost pay was a BIG DEAL. I rang around the sheep farmers whose stock I had been carting all this time, but they were all Bruce’s mates and did not really want to help me go. Anyway I gathered up about six dogs, I had a horse I bought at the Morrinsville sale some time before, and had C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

168

got him on to the Dodge with some cattle when I had been going south, and dropped him off at Ken’s at Deep Creek, so within days we were ready to go.

(Carting the horse south was ok by Bruce in fact I stayed down there for a night and came back next day.)

Same deal, load up the Ford 4x4 and the Dodge car, stick in the kids, and dogs, and maori affairs Tumunui block here we come.

When I bought the Ford 4x4 it had only done 200 miles as it had been part of a workshops’ gear, hence the welder, and had never been off the base; the spare wheel still had the paper docket on it and the little bits of rubber that sometimes you see on a new tyre. There is always a bloody down side to every thing you think is going to be all good, the down side of this was that the oil and compression rings were not worn out just seized up and she used a bit of oil. I never pulled it down to try to fix it, and along with others thought that with a bit

The Dutchman’s idea from the car yard in Morrisville in Chapter 14 might have worked in of use it would come right.

this case. l had acquired a five-gallon drum of engine oil that had fallen off the back of a truck, so should have had plenty. This drum had a tap on it left right on-off and when we were moving to

Tumunui I had put it at the back of the cab. There is plenty of room in these old girls’ cabs. Plenty for a little kid to climb or walk around in, by the time we get up on top of the Mamakus, young Henry was a bit bored so Daphne pulls up at the tearooms, and after having a feed, it is decided a spell in the truck would give him a change. That’s ok, we get the little guy up in the truck then about five miles on he’s had enough of this, rowdy and hot, so he starts walking around and climbing all over things. The truck was loaded like the car, stuff piled and poked in everywhere. Next thing I know there’s a couple of cartons tipped over behind the seats and Henry’s back on the passenger’s seat. Now this convoy is no different from any of the others before or since. Daphne just will not keep the other vehicle in sight. Next thing I know there is smoke everywhere. Young Henry on his little jaunt behind the seats must have stood on this bloody tap and there was oil everywhere, eventually though the floor and onto the exhaust pipe.

Now this kid really had something to grizzle about, noise heat and smoke. Car is nowhere in sight as usual. I park up and clean up the mess, fortunately, the tap had not been on far and I did not lose much oil finally the other half of the convoy is back, the passenger is back in the car and we are away again.

That huge

mess created from such a small amount of oil reminded me of when Derek and l were brumby chasing.

Sometimes we would come across a heap of tracks and in the early days thought there must be a hundred horses C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

169

in that area, but it could just be a couple walking up and down in the same area over and over again.

There are two rather significant things that I want to mention which happened at Waharoa; Daphne’s not all that keen about me putting them down but I want to so here goes.-

No 1,

l am a bit ashamed about.

We are to get married at the Post Office in Te Aroha. I start early, picking up stock for Horotiu and put them in Bruce’s yards. We get over to Te Aroha and into the Post Office, and press-ganged a witness from amongst the Post Office staff. I told the registrar to cut it short and do the paper work, Daphne is on the fringe of tears and I know this is not on, we had argued all the way over about the simple inoffensive flowers she had, and about not telling family or anyone else what we were doing. Then it is back to Waharoa and off to Horotiu. By the time I get home Daphne seems to have put it out of her mind, but I guess she was hurt for a while.

Daphne i am sorry,

admittedly not as

much now as then.

No 2 , made me feel just the opposite.

About this time, Raewyn’s adoption papers are finalised and the three of us have to present ourselves at the Matamata Courthouse. We end up in the Magistrate’s office; he gives us a little bit of a talking to and makes sure Raewyn knows what is going on. Sign a couple of papers and out to the car. I ask this lovely little girl if she knows what has happened and I have never forgotten what she said, “the Government has made me your girl and my name is now,

Thank you Raewyn, that was one of the most marvellous moments of my life.

RAEWYN DOROTHY ANNE SIMMONDS”

Here is a little Dodge story that Ken has just reminded me about the other night. Not long after they had settled in at Whenuapai instead of sleeping in the shed at the Massy pig farm, I sneaked out to Kens to spend the rest of the night in a decent bed. It is well into the night when I get there and not knowing what time the tanker was due, I pulled well off the tanker track and ended up nearly out of sight under some trees, yes, it could look as if l had hidden it there. It's late but before going to bed I slip out to check the truck if there's no flat tyres or anything wrong by now, she will still be right in the morning. SHIT O DEAR here is some bugger poking around my truck. JESUS CHRIST Bruce does not know I am out here, while it is not far from where I am supposed to be it is not really on, so for that reason, if nothing else I am ready to fight to the death to run off this FUC thief. I have a hunk of wood, I have surprise on my side and start laying into C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

170

this poor bloody cocky who had been out checking his cows for bloat, and saw the truck and trailer hidden about 100 metres from his loading ramp. Obviously, his new man and this bastard from Waharoa are in this together and just waiting for him to go to bed before they flog half his cows. Thank God, Kens out there and sorts it out before either his boss or his bit of wood suffered much damage. I do not know how Ken got on with his new boss after that, but once suspicion gets its foot in the door it's bloody hard to get it OUT. I have never forgotten Bruce telling me that any Bugger can get the job done with good gear, but it takes a specially guy to get it done with Old or Underpowered gear.

Our days at Waharoa Transport were finished simply because l had gone as far as l could, I had started on the oldest truck and ended up on the newest, and biggest. At the time I thought I had got rid of the truck bug, the kids had been born in town, everyone was healthy, so there was no need to stay in civilization.

Furthermore, the job had become more of the same day after day, besides I had not finished going as far as I could with the SURVEY and had not even got started with the Ministry Of Transport. Then it was still possible to go from Farm Manager into the survey office as a Field Officer. That was the immediate aim as the mot was still taking people until they were about 40 so there was plenty of time for that job.

Modern Waharoa stock trucks.

Waharoa Livestock @ their depot.

Waharoa Transport is still in business but out of live stock.

This glass ashtray has been on

the windowsill above our sink in many houses for the last 40 years (No ash for the last 5 or so years) The small print says 'WE CARRY EVERYTHING EXCEPT YOUR MORTGAGE'

COMMER ENGINE .

3 cylinders 6 pistons 105 HP from 3.25 cubic litres.

Good Bye, Waharoa Transport, and

Bruce

Clothier hello, Maori Affairs and Tumunui Block.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

171

Chapter 20

TUMUNUI BLOCK

3500 words

Well here, we are back with the Maori Affairs for the second time and five minutes into the first day I knew this was not going to work. There were two of us new boys and it was obvious that the head shepherd and the other shepherd did not like it, as they had their system all set up, only did the essential stock work and went home. However now with a full staff, again, it meant the end of that as most of the deferred general work and more of the stock jobs could be done without using contractors. It was not far into the first day and I realized that this block was totally under the control of the head shepherd, the previous staffing situation was the way he wanted it. Regardless of how many shepherds he actually had, if there were so many stock units there should have been three shepherds and him, so he got a head shepherd's pay. However, with this staffing problem through what appeared to be no fault of his, but because the manager could not keep men, he was probably getting more than the normal wage, as he was struggling on with only one shepherd. As well as that, these types of older managers would let these guys get away with as much as they could, without actually jeopardising their own jobs, as they were terrified the buggers might leave (Not bloody likely.) As fast as the manager was hiring people, this guy was making their lives hell and they moved on as quickly as they could. This place and others, with head shepherds like this one were managed in this way solely for these types of joker’s life styles, not for the good of either the department or to take the load off their old boss, who was not far off retirement. This same head shepherd had run the same show on a survey block I had been on a few years earlier, that is why he was still in the same position, but now with Maori Affairs.

Some of these jokers just could not make the grade that was expected from managers, or were too bloody lazy to put in the extra effort, so settled for this way of life with power though proxy, so they got onto places, with this type of old managers and set themselves up just the way this guy had here. No wonder he was difficult to work for but I imagine if you were the ‘CHOSEN ONE’ life would be pretty bloody good while it lasted. As I was only on two MA blocks but struck two bummers, although through different reasons. I guess that is why as far as I am concerned the Maori Blocks were generally second place to the Lands and Survey, exactly like the POLICE and the MOT. The Lands & Survey block, l and this head shepherd had been on previously, me briefly, him considerably longer, was always short of permanent staff as well and had drovers and musterers there all the time, getting bloody near as much for 3 days work as we got for a week. They only had to catch their bloody horse to get the days pay, after all it was not their fault if it was too foggy to muster. Thinking about it, we hardly every saw that manager either, Christ Almighty I worked with my staff each and every day.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

172

At the interview, I had told the manager that I would have a pack of new dogs and would need time to mould them into a single pack; as it was I had six packs with one dog in each. I needed a bit of yard work and even some general just so we could get to know each other. He said he understood, and that would be ok because Bert (not his real name) was a good sort and would give me more stock work as I got more control of them.

It was obvious to me the particular managers who were under the head shepherds influence always thought the guys were top men. These bastards never tried to control the managers; they ran the place and never took problems to him.

They never asked the manager to sack extra staff; just made it so difficult that the new people just left as quickly as they came. I often wondered if I could see what was happening on some blocks why did not the Field Officers sort it out. Later I realized that it was the OLD BOYS CLUB these manager’s bosses had been the same, but in their time were moved up to field officers, however now that the promotion chain stopped at managers, they were just left there until they retired. (a bit like that girl in form 2 in chapter 05) The shepherd who moved in when we did lasted two weeks and was gone.

Then Bert started on me; gave me the worst horses, put me into paddocks that needed two musterers at the best of times, not one with new dogs. He gave me jobs that needed at least two people, always the dirtiest part of the yards or the worst part of a paddock. What really pissed him off was that he knew that I was on to him, but I was determined to sort these dogs out then look around for something else. The month or so we were there I only saw the manager three or four times. After a week, it was payday. No having the manager hand you your cheque here. We all lined up at the woolshed, even the manager. An office WALLAH turns up, gets a table and chair out of his car, and sets it up. ‘attention pay parade' we stayed in this line then file past this pen pusher, signed on the dotted line and were given our cheques, I knew at once why this drama was taking place. With so many staff coming and going the office would have suspected that, after somebody left, their name stayed on the time sheets for a week or so, and if the cheques were mailed out, they would be cashed as normal.

l had heard of this fraud being committed on other blocks from both departments with this staffing problem.

The next time I saw him was next payday, then the afternoon after that I told the head shepherd I was not getting a fair go and was not happy about the situation. Then the boss turned up in the paddock I was mustering to ask me why I was not happy there, but the first thing he says is you should not be trying to muster this paddock on your own. shit o bloody dear, I knew that, and poor bloody Speed the dog I got of Derek, bloody knew that, I suppose C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

173

the silly old bugger thought I must have volunteered to do it on my own so the other two bbstards could stay sitting in their lounges watching TV. This was difficult country, steep faces and high steep knobs, creeks and gullies; actually, it really suited me to be on my own. I sorted out the dogs out of sight and did not have an audience to the balls-ups.

One day to piss me off a bit more he sent me to dig out (chip) thistles in my horse paddock in full view of Daphne and the kids. Now unknown to him I really enjoyed chipping thistles, loved doing it. I took pride and got a lot of satisfaction from the results, a nice clean paddock. I had fully intended cleaning it up first chance I got one weekend, now here is this idiot who thought he was pissing me off so I would leave, telling me to do it during the week while I was being paid to do it. A bit like Bruce Clothier paying me truck driving wages to dag that cockies sheep.

Apparently TUMUNUI always hosted the local inter - block dog trials and this seemed to be the most important date in the manager’s diary. Now dog trialling has never been up my alley, too slow, too much buggering around. Most people like to watch a strong-eyed dog working sheep; it seems to be moving them around just with will power.

However, see how long your enthusiasm lasts after years of mustering, sitting on a horse in the rain and wind when all you want to do is get the job done and get home. There is an old ewe standing over there on a knob, set the strong-eyed dog alight he knows where he is going, but he is off around the other side of the hill and out of sight. Twenty minutes later when you are getting wetter all the time, its BUGGER this and put another dog out, then immediately when the bloody trial dog is in danger of the other dog stealing his thunder, the bastard moves, and all this time the bloody sod has been crouching behind a thistle eyeing the ewe. You would know he was there somewhere by the sheep’s posture, but until it moved this damn dog would not. bugger the dog trialling. We all spent three days setting up this dog trial course with pens, flags ,two tents one for the stewards and one for the bar, and Shit we weren’t even included in the big day. Some other Block brought some well trained up hoggets and that block’s staff liberated them and set them alight up the hill. After the big day, the contestants pulled the whole shebang down before going home. Trial dogs never had a place in my packs and if I knew a guy was a dog trial enthusiast, I would only hire him if nobody else turned up.

They are just about as bad as the Rodeo boys for wanting time off and for C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

174

using work as an extension of their passion, consequently taking twice as long to do a job as the guy who just wanted to get it done and get home on a wet day.

I only just had the dogs moulded into a working pack when I saw an advertisement in the paper for a Head Shepherd on WAIKITE BLOCK LANDS & SURVEY. Waikite was nearly next door, just down the road on Earthquake Flat Road. I did not bother phoning just jumped in the car and was over there. On driving down Earthquake flat road it did not really look like Survey country so I drive a bit further down and this little yellow Trekka comes down a track and out on to the road. Now I am convinced that this is not Waikite and this bit must have been balloted and settled, because as sure as God made little apples no Survey Manager would be driving around in a TREKKA. Where was the LAND ROVER? Well I am sure this joker is a farmer and not in the same class as a "SURVEY MANAGER.” If the TREKKA had not clinched it, his Aristocratic Manner certainly did, so there's no way BOB is going to be TUGGING his FORELOCK or anything like that. If this bugger was a neighbour he would get the message that after all the SURVEY was the LANDLORD here and he was just a bloody glorified tenant farmer. CRIKEY DICK BOB if it had not been for us that land would still be undeveloped and this joker would still be landless.

So this aristocratic looking gent pulls up and looks at me in an upper class sort of way that really suited my impression of who and what I thought he was, and says " what do you want?" Now I am more convinced than ever that this is not Lands & Survey, so young BOB says " Do you know where this bugger Bedford lives?" This guy does not bat a bloody eyelid just opens his mouth and out comes "i am Rodger bedford" and says, again, " What do you want?" "What can I say after this?" So I said. “Whatever it was I came over here for is not going to happen now, so I will bugger off and let you get on with it." "You are here now so you may as will spit it out ," he says. “Well mr

(its at this stage l am wondering if l should reconsider about tugging my forelock or doffing my cap) it is like this; my name is Bob Simmonds and I came over here to bedford, sir,

apply for the Head Shepherd’s job." We had a bit of a yarn and he wrote down my phone number and probably went home and told his missus about the smart arsed young bugger that’s dreaming if he thinks he’s going to get a job on Waikite Block, Lands and Survey. I go back to tell my missus that I had blown my interview with Mr Bedford and we would be on Tumunui for a while yet.

Next Tuesday is mutton day and after lunch, I get the job of killing the muttons and dog tuckers for the week, what an unexpected fucking surprise this

exactly the same deal as on (bugger it) Tuhingamata years ago. is,

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

175

Not many shepherds objected to killing the muttons but not some other bastar dog tucker, shit that just pisses me off and shows what sort of bastard this guy was. Never mind that, more often than not I had some poor bugger kill my dog tucker. ( Ask Raewyn.)

If this was supposed to be another piss me off job, unlike the thistles it did in fact piss me off absolutely completely. When I get home I am knackered with a temperature and crook, I sweated and hawked up phlegm and blood all night.

Daphne takes me into the doctor in the morning and DR Bala who was our doctor for many years says, " It is up to the hospital for you." "No, I will be all right I am going home to bed." " Ok" she says, "which way will you go?" When I asked her why she wanted to know that, she replied, "So I can get the ambulance to follow you because you will not get far." Daphne gets me up to the hospital, and settled in, when she gets home the phone is ringing, she picks it up and hears what would normally be good news.

“This is Roger Bedford, tell Bob he is Waikite’s new Head Shepherd" [or something like that ] of course with her heart in her mouth and fingers crossed she has to tell Roger that her husband is in hospital with Viral pneumonia caused by the powdered sheep shit, and dust, in the air while working in Tumunui’s occasionally used yards. When Daphne told him that we would understand if he wanted to reconsider and readvertise the job, Roger said no, he would wait and we could move in when we were ready.

l would have thought a shepherd that could not handle a bit of dust was not going to be much good to any manager. We were very grateful to him for taking that risk with me and giving us that chance. We have remained friends with Roger and Lois for what is now thirty-nine years. (1969 ---2008) now 44 years this being 2013.

Now Daphne is only half way; next she has to go and see Tumunui’s manager. She goes down and gives the old boy the whole story. He tells her he is sorry the job has not worked out but understands that the Waikite job means promotion. I think he must have known what was going on and why he could not keep staff but I suppose, as he was not far off sixty, he had decided not to rock the boat, and wait until he was. He really was a decent sort and told Daphne that he would count the time I was in hospital as my notice, and then the office would not dock my pay, and we could stay in the house until I had recovered. I was over the worst in a couple of days, then Dad came down to make sure Daphne was ok, just as well, same problem no money for petrol so Dad sorted that out for her. Now when this started Ken and Delwyn were still down on Deep Creek Block at Reporoa and Ken came up and took young Henry home to help Daphne out. Then bugger me next day Delwyn rings and says that she has had C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

176

Henry into see Dr Bala and he also has a touch of pneumonia but she can treat him at home with medicines.

Doctor Bala told Daphne that she felt because the yards had not seen much action for ages; left undisturbed the virus had done very well for itself. Once they had more staff the long overdue drafting, drenching etc suddenly got going, and the hot dry and windy conditions at the time picked the virus up and they were airborne, hence Henry’s and my condition. I had been in the yards for days, but he had spent half a day up there watching until we realized it was too dirty for the little guy. Once it looked like I was going to be OK, Ken came over and he and Daphne got everything packed up and onto the Ford, then got it all over to Waikite. Easiest move I had ever had before or since, although in 2006 when we moved to Tokoroa I was crook again so again did not do too much.

However, this time Lois turned up with a good sort of trailer one of their boys had made and moved as much gear as we did. Thanks very much Lois we certainly appreciated your help, too bad if you had to get your own lunch Roger.

About the only good thing I can remember about Tumunui is that when the crops were going in, like some older Managers he must have bought a heap of all different types of vegetable seeds and had sown them in what he had considered the right place on the paddock. If they got it right, there was an abundance of vegetables for everyone. Tumunui had a marvellous vegetable patch and every one was encouraged to use it, old and new staff alike.

While we were there, l learned a lesson l have not forgotten and nearly always abide by. If you value somebody’s friendship never do business with him or her, it can so easily ruin that friendship. I needed another heading dog and got hold of Derek and he with a bit of reluctance sold me a dog. After about two days, I did not like him consequently the poor dog could not do anything right.

This had nothing to do with Speed or Derek this was entirely my fault too many new dogs, unfamiliar paddocks etc. and just too bloody gung ho.

learnt years previously but again ignored)

(a lesson

It did not take me long to start blaming Derek then I dragged the chain about paying him. Finally, I decided to pay so wrote a note and sent it with the cheque. I have long forgotten what I said but I am sure there was no mention of me thinking the dog was not all Derek had cracked it up to be. However, the thing is I got a bit mixed up when I signed the letter and deliberately signed it with Yours Sincerely thinking that sounded more business like and might give him a hint that I was pissed off as I thought Yours Faithfully sounded too friendly. I have never asked Derek what he made of it, but the Christmas Cards kept coming. It was years before I realized what a good choice of words I had mistakenly made. Speed was with me for years and was followed by Speedo and Speedy. Over the years I have had friends and C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

177

family annoyed at me for short periods because I would not sell them something.

However, when you do that it is usually not long before one or the other thinks he has had the worst of the deal.

The Tumunui manager was a decent old chap I would like to name but cannot remember his name. The Tumunui head shepherd was not at the time in my opinion a decent young chap, whose name I can remember but will not say, because by now he has most likely grown out of it and is now a decent old chap as well. The other shepherd there just went with the flow, and I do not blame him for that, however that was a Maori Block and I am reasonably sure that it was something like Waihi Pukawa. This fellow most likely represented the owners or had some ownership claim or whatever over some of the land himself, so they could not move him and he was not going.

l bet there are plenty out there who do not have a good word to say about me either, but there is not much l can do about that now "is there ?"

NOTE;

the managers house has the big stick on the roof the headshepherds the smaller stick but a stick never the less.

I am sitting on the black & white horse at the houses we lived in..

PS.

In those days, the thinking would have been as most of Tumunui was steep, and dairy cows would have used so much energy walking up and down hills just to get to and from the paddocks, milk production would have been zilch. For that, reason it would never have been considered that it could be used as a dairy farm. Go past there now and from the size of the dairy herd you see grazing there, they cannot have many sheep left.

Goodbye, C robberteebobs books

Tumunui Block

hello Waikite Block L&S. revised and reprinted Feb 2013

178

Chapter 21

WAIKITE

BLOCK

10500 words 4008

Now landing the Head Shepherd’s job on Waikite was a real step-up for us although we did not know it at the time. Waikite under Roger’s stewardship was to become the launch pad for most, if not all his head shepherds going into Manager’s jobs. Already after 48 words, this is becoming difficult Roger is just over there and I see him every now and then. Lois and Daphne are texting and talking to each other pretty regularly, I am not going to be able to get away with too much bullshit in this chapter.

The block at that time had a Manager, a Head Shepherd, a Stud Shepherd, three Shepherds, A General Hand come truck and Tractor Driver. The stud shepherd’s name was Allan Crozier. This was Roger’s first Managing job, and my first Head Shepherd’s job. On most blocks, there was not much difference between a head shepherd, a senior shepherd, and a shepherd. Pretty well all the job was there for on most blocks, was when the shit hit the fan the Manager only had to debrief or reprimand the head shepherd or the senior shepherd and each day he only had to tell one person what was to be done. Without that position, nobody knew anything, or everybody blamed everyone else. Now Waikite then and up to the present day is not a conventional Land Development and Land Settlement Block. Waikite’s stock, while being loosely called stud stock to start with were nothing special and they were not treated any differently to the others.

However, by identifying each animal, data was collected about stock performance etc, under conventional farming conditions and practices of the time. Waikite’s Stock units were 11.0 to the hectare. This is much the same as talking about pounds shillings and pence, so many of these equal so many of that. A hogget = 0.7 SU, a ewe = 0.1 SU, a ram = 0.8 SU, a cow = 06 SU. There were at that time 5000 ewes 2000 hoggets plus 200 odd rams; about 700 breeding cows and 600 supporting stock along with about 100 bulls. 2000 ewes and all the cattle were involved with a stock breeding scheme directed and overseen by RUAKURA RESEARCH STATION from Newstead at Hamilton, but Roger ran the block, and all the stock including the experimental stock, were under his management. Roger had been the Head Shepherd there when this scheme got going so knew what was going on. I soon found out that I did not, but if you could be WAIKITE’S Head Shepherd, you could be a manager on any of the other blocks.

Even now l still do not know what he made of me, l cannot remember us ever having a row or argument, which is strange because neither Roger nor l are slow in letting some bugger know, that something is not right. Meaning it had not been done the way we wanted it, so logically we must have annoyed each other at times.

When the experimental stock had all been identified with ear tags, and records established, accurate data could be kept on individual animals. All the C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

179

calves were caught weighed and tagged within a few hours of birth, as were the lambs. Allan and Roger looked after the stud sheep record keeping and lambing, but we were all there for mustering, weighing, drenching etc. There were some interesting moments doing the calf-weighing job.

Remember back to TE KOPIA and the MAD COW incident, one cow and one dead calf. Then the other time when I was not being brave enough to get off my horse within 50 metres of a cow. Derek flicked it on the nose while in his slippers and damn near in his bathrobe. And while at Waharoa Transport I had weighed thousands of calves but all we had to worry about then was traffic on the road whizzing past, not a pissed off 500 kg Angus or 600 kg Hereford cow.

SHIT here’s this Joker telling me to catch hundreds of live calves, drag or carry them back to a truck, a J1 Bedford, weigh and ear tag them with a cow snorting and bellowing not just in the same paddock as me, but right behind me.

Either I was in that truck or on a horse the whole time I was there, still no motor bikes. It was not long before I had the job SUSSED out and really enjoyed every minute of the two or three calvings I had there. The cattle yards were a notch above average with a good layout, a lot of concrete, and scales. The weighbridge and crate were outside but under cover. The room that housed the actual scales was a setup not unlike the weighbridges at the fertilizer works I had been in and out of with Waharoa Transport. From memory, all the cattle were weighed each month and missing tags replaced. All the cattle were either fire or freeze branded as well as having a steel tag used for TB testing, we also used the TB tag for crossreferencing numbers for any missing plastic ones. A different colour was used each year so the numbers could start from 01 again, e.g. YELLOW 1971, BLUE 1972 and so on. Remember this was before motor bikes, so was well before computers that you could have at home or in a farm office. So all these numbers were written up on paper and the new weights written in as they were weighed; MAN I loved this job it had everything I wanted in a job, horses, dogs, stock work, mustering and yard work, the BEDFORD and a good BOSS. I used that truck like a horse and along with plenty of paperwork, I was rapt, I think I took on more than Roger expected me to and it was not long before he had a hut dragged up to my house, gave me some paint etc, and I turned it into an office. I sure burnt the midnight candle out there. Not only was this before motor bikes and computers; this was before calculators. We had hundreds of weights to add up to get the average weight gains and to make sure there was no weight loss. It was a real chore but I loved it.

Daphne was in town one day poking around in a second hand shop, and she came across this old adding machine. You put a roll of paper in it, hit the number buttons with the weights you got off the sheets from the weighing, cranked a handle and it printed out the answer, then it did not take much to work out the averages. The thing was brilliant and I used it for many years.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

180

I went down to Deep Creek and picked up the piebald horse that I had down there, got him back to Waikite and broke him in and started using him for work. Sometimes I would head out to the other end of the block or over the back somewhere, and this horse got so that if I put the truck in a bit of a hole he would jump up onto the back and somehow hang on. Low sides and no tailboard was no problem to PIEBALD. (RIGHT) A saddle I made for Raewyn.

(FAR RIGHT) First time up on him (Piebald), in the cattle yards.

(LEFT) Horse, Dogs, Me and the BEDFORD. PIEBALD never fell off or stood on a dog. With him having to share the small deck with five or six dogs, I do not know how he managed it. It was not long before I could just get him on and never tie him up or put a rope behind him. After our FORD truck had gone, my little helper, and I spent days converting the truck shed into a stable for MR PIEBALD. I get him inside.

However, I have to admit he was a bit reluctant to go in NEVER MIND MATE you are in now, and will get used to it. Shut the bottom part of this two-part stable type door and go over to the house. Minutes later it’s “Dad, Dad the horse is Going Mad". By the time I got outside it was obvious that the horse was not going mad it had GONE MAD. The door was no longer a door but firewood and he was out. You BLOODY UNGRATEFUL BASTARD. We used better timber this time, one big cattle yard gate six feet high. Locked him in and watched, he got his front legs over and just hung on it until it broke. I am beyond words; fair DINKUM.

Even all that long ago being

beyond words was an affliction that l rarely suffered from and still do not, ask Daph. Now we get this gee-gee back to the stable, barricade the whole end up with all sorts. I cannot remember with what but it looked something like you see in the old movies where they have barricaded a street up with furniture etc. We did not have a tram so backed the Bedford up against it. The whole time this is going on, this bloody horse is almost looking as if with a bit of peace and quiet he could go to sleep. These truck sheds were the Surveys standard truck shed to house the 4x4 trucks, which were reasonably high so they must have had a 10 or 12-foot stud. This IDIOT horse must

have now got the message about going out through the door, because there was nothing at that end of the shed that looked anything like a door. By now, the fact that it would have been almost impossible for us to get him out before dinnertime C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

181

tomorrow did not matter. This time when Raewyn and I go over for our dinner Henry has already had his and he’s out on the lawn waiting for the show to start.

He did not have to wait long "Dad! Dad! The horse is going mad again!" bugger him we are having our dinner. "Daddy, Daddy! The roof is coming off the shed." As these sheds were designed on the same principle as the pump houses, 5 pieces for the pump sheds but only 4 for these truck sheds with not much holding them together, that got my attention all right and this time everyone is out the door.

There is hardly a mark on the walls but yes, young Henry is dead right, this horse is rearing up and smacking his front feet at the roof and yes, there are a couple of sheets starting to come loose. As soon as he saw he had my attention he stopped, well sod it, you bloody ungrateful bastard you can live outside with the

l suppose at the end of the day the stable was not really to keep him warm, but it sure would have made it easier for me to catch him. rest of them.

When we were putting the rams out with the stud ewes Roger and Allan would be busy getting the ewes into their little mobs, about 20 or 30 ewes and a ram Ruakura would have determined which ewes would go to which rams, and sent the lists down prior to this. The lists would have taken account of the ewes’ previous history of lambs born, wool weights, weight gain of previous lambs, and all the traits that they wanted to study; likewise with the rams. Sometimes when I was taking mobs away down Earthquake Flat road, I would get one of these small mobs away with a heading dog out in the front and a huntaway behind it.

Wait until they were about 100 metres down the road and put out another lot with another huntaway, then me and a couple of dogs behind another bunch, leaving a heading dog to bring one along behind. I really thought it was something and got away with it a couple of times. But if something went wrong, just a car going through or anything like that, and they got boxed up, or a ram was really on the ball and nailed a ewe in the wrong mob, Ruakura’s results would have been false, so I went back to one mob one man.

At shearing time, Allan would have to retrieve a wool sample from the same place off each sheep, just behind the left front leg, seal it into a plastic bag with the sheep's ear tag number. That would go up to Ruakura where all the information they obtained from the wool samples and weights were entered on to the sheep's records, as they had a computer, but they were not PCs or Laptops that is for sure. I remember being fascinated and I thought it quite incredible how we would get these sheets upon sheets of data back all neat with no rubbed out mistakes and nothing out of place.

That is the problem with a lot of stuff that comes out of a printer it looks so good, how could it possibly be wrong?

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

182

Most of Waikite is up and down quite steep in fact, probably only about ¼ was flat enough to cultivate or use for hay or silage, so areas to crop each year were limited. This was a major problem on many blocks. One year Roger decided to break feed a mob of cows on a swede crop and this paddock was at the limit of the Bedford’s ability to get onto every piece of it. When it was dry, I managed all right but when it rained, it was a different story. Because it was not flat, the water ran off OK. However, the cows would eat the swedes right out of the ground so there were porridge plate sized holes all over the grazed areas. The front wheels would throw the water out and cause more problems for the drive wheels. After a couple of days’ rain I could not get either the Bedford or Roger’s Land Rover,

(yes the trekka had gone by now never to return) onto the

paddock, running around catching the calves and getting them back to the truck to weigh them was not an option. good grief today with a four wheel drive bike what a piece of cake.

NOTE! The Trekka was built at Otahuhu Auckland, they were built on Skoda running gear, motor, and suspensions; everything even the fuel tanks were Skoda. If they had only made one or two body shapes, they might have been more successful financially.

However, there were long ones, short ones, hard tops, soft tops, you hardly ever saw two the same. There has been a lot said about them, most of it NOT VERY NICE but I found them to be quite a remarkable little machine especially once they were fitted with limited slip diffs. The NZ Army had some. My boss Bruce Clothier had one, brother Ken had one, our son Henry had one, I had one. They were pretty, versatile. The Army sent some to Vietnam as ambulances and general transport. Roger used his for farm work, Bruce used his for road work, Ken used his for mud, paddock, road, and carting eels [Ken was in the eel catching and exporting business for a while] Henry for school and hunting, mostly turkeys on the old Northern Boundary block before it went into pines. No, I am not suffering from DEMENTIA and not able to remember where I was; I just simply decided to say something NICE about New Zealand’s answer to the Land Rover, even if it took 220 words.

These calves were arriving at maybe twenty a day and if you did not catch and weigh them within hours of birth, you could not catch them at all and the weights would no longer be the birth weight. Roger produced some wheel chains from somewhere and that really solved the traction problem. I could just about drive up a power pole. However, I soon found out, it is what happens a lot of the time; you solve one problem and create another like this labour government 2008, this ground is hard and slippery with all these potholes of water. The BEDFORD would go forwards but I could not steer it at all. I found some old chains somewhere and jerry rigged them up on the front wheels. Now I had full control front, back and turning and was able to get on with the job. I may have driven C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

183

something like 15 to 20 km a day at up to 20 KPH so after a couple of days one of the front chains started to fall to pieces, and a bit gets wrapped around a brake hose. Another hold up, and I get a bit behind again. I think we got the cows out of that paddock and finished the crop with the ewes. One day I finally caught a calf about 50 metres from the truck and the old cow was getting a bit upset, so I ended up walking backwards all the way back, carrying this calf with the cow bellowing and snorting with her nose nearly on the ground about 30 CM away from my boot. The only good thing about that incident was I had plenty of time and a good view to read her tag number. Some days when I knew there were not many cows due to drop, I would do other work on the way to the calving paddock. I would have a few dogs on the truck, and as long as they stayed there and kept quiet there was no problem, but let a dog get off and there would be cows bellowing and roaring everywhere.

At mating time we put a harness on the bull’s head which had a paint container with a big roller mounted under it, which fitted under the bull’s chin.

When the bull mounted a cow the paint roller made contact with her back and put a blue, yellow, what ever colour on the cows back so we knew which bull had done the job, and when. Hence, we knew when that calf was due.

Today

some people would think some of these cows must have been away at a team building exercise involving paint guns.

Dogs just love to get in amongst cows and calves, but if a dog or two decided to help me catch the calf there was good news with a capital [G] and bad news with a capital [B]. Catching the calf was quick, reasonably quiet, and painless, but getting the calf back to the truck, weighing, and tagging it could be slow, noisy, and painful. Some days I may have got out of the truck to catch a calf, but as soon as either the calf’s mother or some nosey old bitch anywhere in the paddock heard or saw a dog, it was all on.

Some cows, mainly Angus in my experience, would get their calves down then throw them up in the air, smash them into fences, vehicles, trees or anything; stamp all over them, a dog could not get anywhere near the calf, when you had a number of cows doing this, it was pretty hectic. Once things quietened down and you got the calf on the scales on the side of the truck just behind the driver’s door, it was right beside the dogs, which by this time would be back on the truck and feeling pretty bloody brave. One would nip the calf though the sides, the calf would bellow then it would all be on again. If you just pulled the calf off the scales and dumped it on the ground before you jumped in the truck, the cow would take to the old Bedford as well as her poor bloody calf. The safest way for man, truck, calf, and cow was to boot the cow on the nose, get the calf off, carry it C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

184

a few metres away and hope she would mother it in the way most people would expect.

When these cows are wound up, they are a reasonably fearsome sight and sound and while they wasted no time getting stuck into a dog DANGER or horse, if you stood your ground they very rarely actually MAD COW made contact with you. Quite often they would get right up close and put on a great act 30 cm, away bellowing and performing bit like the All Blacks and their FUCKING HAKA, bloody terrifying but if you know its all Bull Shit then it scares nobody 99% of the time. It is bloody amazing how quickly dogs can sometimes change from brave to scared and know when to call it a day. Like the dogs coming back up the gully on Waikino after they had caught up with the pig Chapter 16.

When the dogs are in behind you and no matter how fast you turn around, they can still be out of your sight. When there’s been an incident involving the dogs, and you see this cow coming straight at you at 50 MPH there is a very small window of opportunity [as they say today] when she is almost on top of you.

You just instinctively know this is going to be the 1% of the time when the hissing, roaring, and blowing snot and slobber everywhere is NOT going to be BLUFF, and you just know there is at least one dog behind you. You leap sideways out of the quickly diminishing gap between the cow and the dogs, you are out of there so quick that by the time the dogs gather their thoughts and make a majority decision, she is amongst them and you are back in the truck.

Around this time the shepherd, who had been living in the house out the front on Highway 38 moved on, Ken, Del, and the kids moved in. Ken started shepherding on Waikite and one night he was late heading home; about ¾ of the way there, he had to ride through a sort of gully/ gorge with Tumunui native bush on one side and a steep high grass face on our side. Well it is dark in the bottom where the track is, and Ken hears this noise THUMP! THUMP! SLAP! SLAP, and cannot make out what it could be. It sounds like it is on the track in front of him now this is not a little animal type noise, but a real racket then it stops, and Ken, horse, and dogs are through ASAP. He gets home and is on the phone to me. "GOD ALMIGHTY Robbie there is THIS; there is THAT; there is SOMETHING down that gully, making a noise like NOBODY has ever heard before. SHIT O DEAR nothing thing like it SHIT ROBBIE, I have worked in the Waitoa Dairy factory; in the Kaimai tunnel; caught eels in swamps and creeks in the dark. Believe me I do not have a clue what is in there but it has to be bloody huge or else its’" he stops just short of putting it down to something supernatural; some Spirits, Ghosts or some such thing, both or either Maori or Pakeha. Well this has me a bit beat because I have been through this gorge a few times and never had any trouble. You had to go that C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

185

way on a vehicle but there was a better and quicker way when on a horse, so I did not really know what he had been doing down there, as it would take him a bit longer to get home. Well here is Ken demanding that I sort it out, so I give Roger a ring and, even to my surprise, find out that there is quite a population of Wallabies in the Tumunui bush and they came out onto Waikite at night. Ken must have caught a bunch of them down on the track, and they took off along in front of him for a while then either shot up our side to feed or back over the fence into the bush to wait until Ken and Co. were past. We both went back there at different times but never saw one. However, Roger told us there could have been twenty or thirty of them and of course, the thumping and slapping noise was from their feet and tails Slapping down on the road as they tore up it in front of Ken. There were a couple of patches of bush on Waikite, the Tumunui bush on one side also the big conservation area between us and Waiotapu, so there should have been a fair bit of deer around but thinking back I don’t remember ever seeing any. Looking at it, you would expect to find some. One Friday night Ken and a couple of mates had been spotlighting in the area against Tumunui, and like me found nothing. However, there was a bit of a swamp though the fence in Tumunui Block and with their light they picked up a goose, camped up for the night. Well 'bugger this waste of time' and the goose is wasted. They go up to the house for a drink and a yarn and Ken’s mates want to give him the goose for letting them do the spot lighting but Ken does not want it, and they appear to gratefully accept it and head off home. It is about ¾ of a km down to the mailbox and as it is Saturday there was no bread or milk delivery, so by Monday mid afternoon Del goes down to get the milk, mail and wait for the kids. She gets over to the box, which is a decent sized country box, and she sees the milk, the bread, and mail sitting on the ground under it.

God, there is something dead around here; and she flicks open the door. This bloody great bloated gooses head and its long neck flop out. The thing has been in there for two hot summer days. You can guess what it looked and smelt like up close. WHO knows what the mail carrier thought. Ken’s mates probably did not like goose either; or else they were truly grateful to him and thought he would find it in the morning.

It could not have been much fun living way out there at that end of the block. We all would have been home long before Ken got home; and would still be eating our breakfast when he left to come through to the woolshed in the mornings. They did not stick it for much longer and moved on, I think apart from a short stint on a Maori block around Rotoma that was the end of Ken’s shepherding career. It had not been easy for him on Waikite with me telling him what to do and the long rides way out there on your own. Some people lasted C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

186

there but, some did not, the house had been put there with settlement in mind, not permanent staff, and has since been sold and moved away. I was later to have the same problem with a house on Waiotapu, half a mile away in a few years.

Down the other end of the block over towards Waikite Valley Road there is a bit of a thermal area of about 100 hectares, and running back to State Highway 38 on the left of Earthquake Flat road there were about 500 hectares that had been withdrawn from use because of thermal and conservation issues. Even though Roger could not use this area he laid claim to it and referred to it as part of WAIKITE; now this whole area was between Waikite block and Waiotapu block. Like Roger, while I was Waikite’s Head shepherd, I supported this attitude and claim over this bit of disputed land. The Waiotapu manager at the time was most likely of the opinion the smaller his block, the less to worry about and never took the issue up with his LORDSHIP . There is more to come on this land in the Waiotapu chapter. Now on these 100 hectares there were a few hot spots and in one paddock, there was a hot pool not quite boiling but HOT very HOT, these pools had never given any trouble and were not fenced off. We had bulls grazing in this paddock and after the boys had moved them one day, I asked for the tally. One short, this is a clean paddock, flat 15 hectares you could see all over it, so I just put the missing bull down to wrong count.

On most blocks, it was 'count count' all the time every time stock went into a new paddock, or came out of one they were counted it did not matter if there were 10 or 10,000 in the mob it was counted. All the blocks I was on had scratch marks on the top rail at the latch end of nearly every gate. Every time you counted 100, shut the gate put a scratch on the top rail with your knife blade, start counting again. When finished count the scratches add on the last amount, write it in your tally book. I wrote many of my tallies and did a fair bit of paper work on the bonnet and right hand mudguards of my vehicles.

I am down that end next day so gather these bulls up and sure enough, there is one short. Now these are not just some bull calves that missed the docking knife, these are STUD BULLS, absolute VIP animals. This was a reasonably serious matter so the MASTER had to be informed immediately. [There is a bit about stud bulls in the Waiotapu chapter].We are all down there looking for this bull and did we find him? – No, we did not find him but we found a bloody big pot full of boiled beef, now between Jim Rodgers the shepherd, and truck driver, John Tipu, they had about fourteen kids. 14 kids + 2 men + 2 women equals 18 mouths so Jim reckons that if he and John went over to the swede paddock, got a truck load of swedes and a couple of salt blocks they could eat out for about a month and looking at this bull after the skin was pulled

This hole was about 6 foot across and with a few vegetables floating in there with out you could almost believe him.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

187

all this boiled meat; it would have looked like a good sort of boil up all right.

The dates on the two diary pages below are hard to see but the top one is 23 JUNE 1970 the lower one is 24 MARCH 1970. Roger was away on annual leave and I was in charge MAN I WAS THAT FULL OF MYSELF; THAT IMPORTANT I COULD HARDLY EAT . After the fat stock buyer had been out during the week and picked the 257 fat lambs that the bottom left hand diary entry is referring to, we trucked them out on Sunday ready for Monday’s kill. On Wednesday night, the fat lamb buyer phones me to tell me the lamb weights, which were of great interest to us, having fattened the lambs.

I cannot remember this fellows name or the firm he worked for but what I remember about him is this. I don’t think you could buy steel toed safety boots then, and as he spent most of his day in a sheep race picking sheep for the works, his feet got a good stamping on, so this guy buys some fibreglass fibre and resin then covered the front half of his boots with fibreglass. His boots were tan and the fibreglass was green. Everybody thought it was a big joke, but he did not go home with sore toes.

Well he talks real slow and sad like “That you Bob? “ "YES" said Bob. "All your lambs are dead. HELL! I do not hear him start to tell me the weights, I am already trying to figure out how to tell Roger that somehow or other, his lambs that he had entrusted to my care were dead! "HOLY HELL what happened, did the truck have an accident, hit a train or something? How could 257 sheep all be killed? Whose fault was it? What is Roger going to say about this? Who is going to tell Roger’s Boss? shit I did not need this to happen on my watch, hang on the Guy is talking again and l hear "Roger will be pleased; they are good weights no over fats; no rejects; all good lambs". By the time, he rang with the cattle weights for the 143 steers on the other page; I gave him plenty of time to tell me the weights before I panicked.

The other diary page is just numbers per truck. In the 70's and 80's the trucks were about the same size as today but then only had single deck cattle and double deck sheep crates.

THREE DECADES 1930'S – 1960'S C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

188

THREE DECADES 1970'S – 2000'S

Over the years the places L&S trucks and four-wheel drives were taken by guys like me, was amazing, as our ability was only acquired from experience.

How we ever lived long enough to get the experience is a total mystery. I cannot remember ever losing control of a truck or 4x4 off road, but have had a few frights on the road with trucks. However, tractors were a different story; they were bloody dangerous and we all knew it and were a bit more careful with them. I suppose there have been a few guys killed in accidents on Survey blocks, but I can’t remember ever hearing about one. There certainly was the odd vehicle, which went down a gully without a pilot.

They bought a few long wheel based forward control land rovers and I think just about the lot went arse over kite down gullies too high too long too narrow and over they went.

I had more than a few narrow escapes on tractors, however I do not think I drove a tractor the whole time we were on Waikite, and only had one instance with the Bedford when I got a bit of a fright. In those days, there were quite a lot of small ponds made to hold stock water by bulldozing a bit of fill up in front and along the sides of little springs. This left a dam- like formation you could drive across however, over the years with stock going down to the water the flat top ended up sloping down into the pond. I had dog chains stapled down the left side of the deck, and for some reason, this day I had four dogs hooked on them.

There must have been some cattle in the pond earlier because the face was a bit muddy, but I go charging across this DAMN dam, and the next thing the old Bedford’s arse end is going sideways and slightly backward. shit no not scared just panicky. When she stops sliding the water is across to the right rear edge, and about half way up the left side. Two dogs are on the dam with me, two dogs with their arse ends under water and their heads out, two dogs with their heads under water and their arse ends out. I unhook the two that had their heads out and they are off. Get the chain undone of the first one that thinks he is a fish and he is off.

The other one is thrashing around so much I cannot find the chain I get hold of his back legs and give him a good jerk. Out comes the staple and he is on the dam but not looking too good. I give him a bit of CPR with my boot and hold him up by his back legs to shake some water out.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

189

Now most of the time when you have caught a dog and yank him up by his collar, he’s usually in line for a bit of a towelling up. The others are that bloody pleased that it is not them, and eager to please, they fly in and start trying to tear this poor unfortunate, who until a few minutes ago was their mate to bits. Now in this instance, the rest of this poor sod’s mates, probably thought seeing I had given him CPR with my boot and now had him hanging up in the air that was the opening of Act 1, Act 2 must be ready to start. Now in their minds I must be blaming the complete bloody disaster, absolutely and completely on this poor sod. When as usual, the rest of them eager to please and help tore into him, they got a hell of a shock when I dropped the poor bugger and started laying into them. By the time order was reestablished the POOR SOD had come round and was wondering, what he had missed.

There was a reasonably steep road coming down a hill called Mount Gordon , about half way down there was a gate between paddocks Mt Gordon 1 and Mt Gordon 2. Some time in the past a previous manager was coming down the track and stopped at the gate. Gets out and goes around the front of the old Series 1 Land Rover to open the gate. The hand brake lets go and this guy is jammed between this piece of POM machinery and the KIWI gate. The story goes that at about 8.00 pm his missus gets the head shepherd out and they organise a search party. Remember no motor bikes, no radios, no cell phones, the bugger could be anywhere, they had to catch horses, find torches, and who can ever find a torch without flat batteries when you need one?

Years later Roger is coming down this road and he’s up a bit from the gate and spots a cast ewe about 100 metres down the hill off the road, so pulls up and starts walking down to the ewe. About ¾ of the way there, he hears this ominous noise behind, looks back and here is his Series 2 Land Rover coming down

(l wonder if the manufactures knew they had a problem with those hand brakes and had done for bloody years) It passed him and rolls to a behind him, same story with the hand brake.

stop within feet of this old ewe. We all wondered if the Rover could get down there on its own, why could Roger not have driven it down. I cannot remember how they got it out, whether Roger drove it on down or it was pulled back up. I think this may have happened then, or maybe some other time but the Rover sustained a broken rear spring. "What does MR BEDFORD?" do lifts it up with the loader and shoves a post in between the axle and the body, drops it down and drove it to the Forest Service Work Shop at Waipa State mill in Rotorua with no problems, l would not have driven it out the gate.

In those days, as a condition of our employment everyone employed on a block was allowed to keep two sows, but the piglets had to be gone at weaning.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

190

There was a half acre paddock, an old orchard, right beside our house and it did not take me long to turn that into a miniature pig farm. Not everyone had pigs, but Jim ended up with a big hunk of conservation area down by his house and Roger fought a never- ending battle with him trying to find out how many pigs were in it, and who they belonged to.

I think Jim gave the non- pig owners some pork and told Roger that this pig was that fellow’s; those two are that other fellow’s; and so on. BY GOD old Jim was a bloody hard nut to crack, Roger would have to get up early in the morning to catch him out. Jim’s horses could only eat what Jims pigs could eat, only nuts and meal thank you as chaff and oats were not good for his horses. Jim was always doing home kills around the district and making bacon, hams, sausages etc, and from my experience with carting pigs into Hutton’s at Frankton, I knew that for every load of pigs we took in other trucks took in 4 or 5 loads of cull ewes, there is more fucking mutton in pork sausages than bloody pork, mate. l bet Jim was not putting cull dog tucker ewes into his pork sausages roger.

Remember the diesel motors at Waikino?

LEFT; That diary page has an entry reminding me to ask Joe Kohi, who lived out at that end to check the water level, because if it was getting down I would have to take some diesel out and start the motor. It was the same deal as Waikino’s, usually hard to start. If only I knew then what I know now, everyone pulled all the wrong bits to pieces every time. RIGHT; is a aircooled air cooled and I now know they were a marvellous simple motor that really deserve a lot more credit in helping develop a lot of our farmland. The earlier ones were water cooled, twice as big on the outside but about the same HP. Their 44-gallon drum radiators were great for warming our hands in.

Well Waikite did not miss out on these things, and way up the top of the ridge beyond the Gordon paddocks against Earthquake Flat Road there was the Bush paddock, in which about 100 metres down towards Earthquake Flat was a spring with a bit of a dam in front of it; and one of these motors on the pump.

There was nowhere to milk our house cow so I built a good sort of cowshed, concrete floor, running water, the works. Roger gave us a little AngusJersey cross cow that was a little honey, quiet and always easy to get , so the privilege of milking this cow is naturally given to young Raewyn. Through summer and autumn things appeared to be going well but later after a frost one morning, I told her to take some warm water over with her to wash the cow with before she started milking. It would be better on her hands and the cow. No, I am all right, and the cow’s teats are good, I wipe them with a damp towel. Daphne had noticed for a while since the weather had cooled off that there was a bit of C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

191

dirt in the bottom of the bucket, but that’s no big deal and not hard to have happen. The cow could have a bit on her belly and it fell in the bucket, after all Raewyn is over there to milk the cow not groom it. Now up to this time, I had been putting milk in my tea and coffee for years, but I happened to have been outside before her on this morning, and saw her get the cow in and start milking.

Over I go; now this kid has about six inches of milk in the bucket and is warming her bloody hands in it, and washing the cow with her own warm milk, Raewyn might have started taking warm water over to the shed after that, but I stopped taking milk in my tea for ages.

Waikite's truck was a 4-wheel drive INTERNATIONAL with about a 16foot deck on it. The Government brought quite a few of them in for the FOREST SERVICE to use as log trucks, however they were too small and underpowered so the L & S ended up with them. As these trucks were short tractor units, some YES MINISTER type with all his experience of making a BALLS UP worse, thought they would be good farm trucks so had them fitted with decks. Drawing on all his experience of loading and driving 4x4 trucks up hills as steep as they were capable of going, in his wisdom he has the decks built about 16 feet long, because the longer the deck the more useful the truck will eventually be and the smaller the original balls up. Of course, what ended up happening was, the overhang was such that if loaded too heavily at the end, they could on a bit of a hill lift the front wheels off the ground.

Predictably, the yes minister type had done exactly what he was paid to do, and had spent a lifetime doing, he had made a bad situation bloody worse.

When Adam Alex left Edgecumbe years earlier, he ended up on Waiotapu Block as the 4x4 Internationals long decked truck driver. He had been into Rotorua to pick up a water trough, and as the truck had no hoist he knew it would be easier to get it off, if it was loaded at the tail end of this long deck. On a normal bit of road or reasonable hill, it could handle that much weight back there, however just passed the BENNY BEE, honey factory and shop was the gateway into the paddock where this trough was going. Unfortunately as the gate was rarely used by vehicles the edge had been graded away to leave nearly a metre high bank. Adam reasons that a bank like this should be no problem to an almost new 4x4 International, redesigned by experts for just this situation. He puts it into 4-wheel drive and the front wheels climb up the bank no problem, except they are not actually on the ground and the Lands and Surveys new trough is longer on the truck. Nevertheless, the Ministry of Works now owned many pieces of concrete joined together with reinforcing wire.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

192

We were a shepherd short, and one day Roger tells me that he has taken on this guy from Taranaki who’s been on a private place, and he will be here on such and such a day. I knew that Roger had sent the truck in to the railway station in Rotorua to pick up this family’s gear. John was to do this furniture job then carry on feeding out or whatever he had been doing, I am looking out the dining room window while I am having lunch and see the International coming down Earthquake Flat road. shit o dear it is full with all sorts of furniture, 44 gallon drums with one end knocked out, full of second hand posts, battens, bits of timber, wire, and corrugated iron. Before I have finished lunch, the truck is heading back, a while later Roger gets a call from John telling him that the Survey had agreed to pay for only so much wagon space and one truck trip to Waikite.

Now the Railways would not let them take any more out of the wagons until somebody paid the freight bill. Of course, the new man would have been the same as the rest of us, any dough he had would have been used on petrol getting here. The Survey was not paying for any more, without Jim signing an authorization for the office to take so much a week out of his pay until it was cleared up. As Jim was there for twenty-odd years, one dollar a month would have been plenty. The truck did about three or four loads, most of it rubbish that he could have pulled out of Waikite’s dump.

All these blocks seemed to have areas where it just did not feel the same as other parts, spooky, weird, call it what you like and Waikite was the same. When I asked Roger about one particular place one day, he reckoned that he had never noticed anything. That is the strange thing about these places, some people notice them others do not, but if you watched your dogs or other animals, you could nearly always imagine that they knew something was there. About half way down the road between Rogers’s house and the end of Earthquake Flat Road there was a gateway on the right. You went through the gate, over a culvert, then up a short drive to what was going to be a house site but as the house was never built, there was no need for any one to go through the gate as the drive led nowhere. Every now and then when I drove past, it would be open, if I drove straight past, it would stay open, but if I pulled into the entrance it would just gently swing shut, I would put the chain back, and carry on and wonder who had left it unlatched. No one seemed to know or care or think it strange, but I am sure there was some supernatural force at work there. I saw it happen on more than one occasion, if I went straight past, it would be shut, and always have the chain on when I came back. It never happened when I was on a horse just when I drove past it with the Bedford, not my car. Open or shut, stock NEVER got out through

Maybe it, him, her, whatever, just did it for me because they knew l could sense their presence. it although I do not know if it was ever open at any other time.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

193

Ken's experience at the other end of the block on his way home that night may have been explained away as being wallabies, that may have accounted for the noise. However, do you really think, if his dogs had thought it was wallabies, do you REALLY think they would have crowded up behind his spooky horse and not torn off after them?

l do not buy the wallaby explanation

now after years of coming across these places elsewhere.

Well time goes on and in 1973 Roger’s brother and a mate decided to buy a pig farm at Whakatane, and nearly had Roger talked into going over there to manage it. Roger told me if I could get past the interview, I had as good a chance as any one of taking over his job, but I had to put on paper how I would manage the block and every class of stock on it for a year, and take it in with me. In I go on the appointed day. Shit man this is scary stuff, there is SUPERINTENDENT

,

GIBSON behind his desk, and SENIOR FIELD OFFICER ROE the guy who

was the senior field officer in Taumarunui who sent me out to Waikino. Well everybody says gidday, and shakes hands.

Mr Gibson starts asking me questions; Guy has the great instruction manual I had written up on how to run Waikite for a year. Damn near every question they ask me I could refer them to this or that page in the manual. lt had about 30 A4 pages written on both sides and of course, it was all hand written and covered everything l could think of plus things Roger told me they would want to know. SFO Roe reckoned l would be more use to the outfit designing forms than as a manager. Eric had something about him that demanded respect from me, and it was ages before l was comfortable addressing him as Eric not Mr. Gibson, to some others he was that bastard Gibson from day one.

After that formal interview, we had a cup of coffee and Mr Gibson asked what I did after work, for a hobby. I told him that I went home at 5.00 pm with everyone else, had a cup of coffee said gidday to the kids, and then started my hobby; to which GUY says, "Yeah but the boss asked what is your hobby?" " I go back to work until its dark up to 5.00 pm is work time, after 5.00 pm it is hobby time." Mr Gibson says, "At this stage we normally tell people to go home and we will let them know, but with that answer, you will do me. If Roger does go," he says, "You can have Waikite", but he said he doubted if Roger would go and if he did not I could have either Goudies or Edgecumbe Block. I asked them whom the head shepherd was over on Edgecumbe. Guy Rowe goes to find out, comes back, and says he’s an old chap by the name of George Milne, and due to retire. I said straight away that I would take Edgecumbe, hoping to GOD that I could get there before MR MILNE did retire so I could help him on his bloody way.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

194

Within twenty-four hours, Roger had confirmed that he would be staying on Waikite, so we were going to Edgecumbe, first time for Daphne, and the kids, second time for me. Roger & Lois are still there on Waikite where their boys grew up, and left home having known only the one, not as our poor sods did, nor me either.

Raewyn's entry into the equestrian world of dressage and show jumping was sometime in the winter of 1972. We did not have a RANGE ROVER to cart her saddles and other gear in and to hook our non-existent tandem axle float onto, in which we would have transported her no1, & no2 horses to the show grounds. She decides to ride her horse, the Dashing Grey the 3 miles to a paddock not far from the school. Of coarse it is understood, she is well kitted out with her homemade cowboy saddle, her gumboots, her straw-hat, and her short piece of plastic water pipe. To make sure everything went without a hitch at the WAIKITE EQUESTRIAN CENTRE later in the day, Raewyn had taken the grey horse out and belted him around the block, doing some of the things she imagined they would have to do that afternoon. This was in the middle of winter, all the hair on the horse was matted, and now young Raewyn has added sweat

but once he got the big stick, the Land Rover soon replaced the grey horse. As the and mud to what had been Roger's mount,

horse was now used only by my daughter, I imagine Roger would have thought along the same lines as dad did in chapter 05, when he reckoned he was not paying a blacksmith to shoe a horse because a kid was too bloody lazy to open a few gates and wanted to ride it on the road.

This poor kid rides all the way down there on the verge, and gets in the line waiting for her turn. She gets the nod, and is away CRASH BASH what the bloody horse could not walk over, it walked around or through, then immediately, a unanimous decision was made by horse and rider; out the gate and home, bugger this for a game of soldiers. I have to admit show jumping etc, has never been very high on my need to do, want to do, list of activities either. Raewyn tells us that when she saw all these other small horses she figured that because the grey was so much higher it would not have to jump so high and she would be coming home triumphantly with all of the ribbons. After

all, at the last pet day she got a ribbon for not getting a prize.

The photos were taken some time later when her cousin Michael Jarman was staying for a while. it was the grey that Michael is on that Raewyn did ride to the pony club. Michael is Daphne's nephew, her brother John’s boy.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

195

From way back then where ever we have been Daphne has tried to get a flower garden in, but had to wait until KAINGAROA VILLAGE to see one from year to year

THESE TWO KIDS & ME

While we were on Waikite we went up to TE KAHA beach and stayed there for over a week. We had never before or since had a pure holiday away for more than three days. Jim Rodgers lent us an old caravan that we hooked on the back of the DODGE, and a dinghy we put on the roof. Daphne took the photos and cooked most of the tucker.

So what’s new mate

!

We get all set up at the camping ground, and it is about mid afternoon and the tide is pretty well in so it is not going to be far to drag Jim's old boat down to the water. Within minutes, we are dragging it towards the ocean and when we are about ž of the way there, I noticed that Rachel was about 30 metres in front of us. At this stage of the game, Henry was about the same distance behind us but we are both watching Rachel, after all, she is the one nearest the wet stuff. Daphne catches her and she is in the boat before there is any water under the keel, just sand so that is a good idea daphne "chuck Henry in there too." Not young Henry he is nearly half way back to waikite.

Well mum gets him and convinces the little bugger that there is going to be great fun had by all. Only the idiot who has volunteered to captain this thing is now in with the two little passengers, as it seemed prudent to leave someone behind to get help if assistance of any sort is required and cook the bloody tea, mate. Apart from the bit of a paddle around at Te Kopia, 9 years ago, this is only the second DEEP BLUE WATER CRUISE SHIP, the cook strait ferry being the first one, that I had been on but that was nothing compared to this, according to the story Henry's been given. Well Daphne sprinkles some water on this wooden tub blesses it and asks GOD to protect her kids and hopefully the other C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

196

idiot. 'BLESS HER' Then the complete bloody outfit including us three are off.

For 10 metres all's well; 25 metres Henry's getting a bit agitated; 41 metres the titanic is coming about and heading back to the landing zone at TE KAHA BEACH. This is a bit like Dunkirk in reverse; as this guy is running away from the boat back up the beach. Never mind, young Rachel and Dad set off again. I must add that she is as happy as can be, even though she did not hear all of their mother's bull shit story to Henry, she is a believer. We paddle over to some rocks about 200 metres away; I disembark, and catch a couple of big crabs and back to the boat ship. When we had left the shores of New Zealand, I Bob Simmonds the captain had been smoking his pipe, but with having to cope with the reluctant passenger who had not found his sea legs, and having to row this thing, I had run out of steam and put the pipe down somewhere. After the foraging party had returned to their vessel and got under way back to the mainland, Captain Bob decides to have a smoke. “Where is my pipe Rachel?"

She points at the wet stuff and I deduced from her sign language etc,

(remember she was only about two then,) that when we were

disembarking the other passenger, she had decided as the pipe was still hot and our boat was made of wood, she thought it would be a good idea to extinguish the heat. Somehow, she got hold of the hot end, and into the PACIFIC OCEAN, it went. Never mind, she has had a good trip and at least she still has her crabs. l

think Henry had heard about not getting out into water deeper than he could stand up in, too many times.

Next morning we all are ready for another paddle around, and as we were putting the boat into the water, here is my pipe just lying on the sand at the water's edge. This time we all went out to the rocks and Henry was nearly as happy as his little sister was.

Below you can see that I am a responsible boatie as even a blind man could see we are well set up with life jackets, flares, spare motor etc.

Half way home at OPOTIKI we sold the DODGE and shifted everything into and onto a MARK 3 ZEPHYR SIX (I drove it around in 3rd gear for ages until LITTLE BOB from WAHAROA told me it had 4 forward gears.)

It is amazing the BULL SHIT you hear from car sales buggers over the years. About a month before going up the coast on this little jaunt, I had a trade in C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

197

price from a car yard in Rotorua. This guy had made a big fuss about getting out and looking up some figures in a book, spent 20 minutes working it out. Then informing me "Your car on a trade is worth say $1000.00, but there is a bit of rust at the back of the left rear guard and I guess that, and a couple of other little bits that need doing, would come to $250.00 so that’s $750.00 on a trade."

We have a look at a MK3 Zephyr at Opotiki and LIKE IT and WANT IT so start talking money. This guy made a big fuss about getting out and looking up some figures in a book, spent 20 minuets working it out then informing me. " Your car on a trade is worth say, $1000.00 but the clutch is on its way out and will need to be replaced, and I guess that and a couple of other little bits that need doing would come to $250.00 so that’s $750.00 on a trade." Same price, different reasons, but both were bull shit.

The prices l quoted were only to do the sums what they actually were now l have no idea.

The bloody idiot must have seen we were towing a caravan, with a boat on the roof, and after telling him where we had come from and had been, you would think that the story about the clutch was not the best one he could have come up with. Never mind, we wanted the deal done so they swapped the tow bar and roof rack, boat and caravan over free of charge while we had a feed and a look around Opotiki. So the Dodge went and the Mark 3 Zephyr arrived.

That MK3 was 100 times better than the MK4 that followed it.

Raewyn stayed with Fay and Peter Carson because our holiday was not in the school holidays, Fay was a schoolteacher. Peter was the new stud shepherd who started when Alan moved on. [Peter went on to manage Goudies Block and stayed there until about 2 years ago. I think he is still with Landcorp] Shortly after the holiday, Merton Peters arrived with EDGECUMBE’S old BEDFORD with a stock crate he had borrowed from somewhere and we were away.

Shit mate:

l cannot wait

to start using my big stick!

Goodbye

Waikite Block,

C robberteebobs books

hello

Edgecumbe Block revised and reprinted Feb 2013

198

The location of properties we lived and worked on in this book. Put all together it makes a fair area I have mustered and ridden all over.

( nd there is a bit more to come)

Chapter 19

Chapter 14

Chapter 13 Chapter 9

Chapter 10 Chapter 14 (a)

Chapter 11 Chapter 20 Chapter 21

Chapter 15

Chapter 12 Chapter 18 Chapter 16 Chapter17

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

199

GOD ALMIGHTY !

Imagine having a family photo take today with a smoke stuck in your mouth, yet alone within a 100 metres of a

KID.

I can imagine just what some of you must be thinking, and I can understand why somebody that stayed on a job for the greater part of his / her life before moving to another position must think about the likes of me with 14 jobs in 17 years. Many times, later in life when I had interviewed somebody for a job have immediately thought, "How old did he say he was? CHRIST, that's only about 6 months for each job" BUGGER taking a loser like him on. However, it was not quite like that then because we were still working for the GOVERNMENT, and from memory the signature on our pay cheques was the same, it was only when moving to a private job that we actually thought of it as changing jobs.

Although by working under different MANAGERS who themselves were under the control of different FIELD OFFICERS I learnt there were many ways to do the same thing and never made some of the mistakes they had made. (Although I did have the odd BOO-BOO but knew how to survive them)

In BK 04 I say, everything that went out of the workshop worked first pop and there was NO heap of proto types behind the shed.

That was exactly as it was but with this job all I can say is THANK GOD for the RECYCLE BIN on this computer and the PAPER SHREADER otherwise the paper would be up to the ceiling in this room and I would have to stop TWEAKING every book each and every time I turned the computer on.

C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013

200 BOOK 01; ISBN 978-0-473-17095-0 with help from 42700 words, covers some of the

memories of my life as a child from 1941 to 1956, while living mainly on dairy farms in the North Island of New Zealand. (Going on what is illegal now, how kids survived must really puzzle some of the do gooders today who make a lot of noise about buggerall and continuously look the other way when there is something to make a noise about) BOOK 02; ISBN 978-0-473-17096-7 with help from 100,000 words covers my life from

1956 when I started my first job until 1973 when I took up my first manager’s job. Those 17 years were spent mainly working for the Lands Development branch of the old Lands & Survey Department a New Zealand Government department, setup mainly to develop country , and in some cases redeveloped it and settle Return Service Men. However on the first page is an example of how one’s life can be changed by events beyond ones control. As a boy, ready to start a career as a motor mechanic, within a few hours I am set on a completely different path. Not even a dairy farm like where I had spent most of my childhood, but on a sheep farm. After my disappointment of moving to Waiheke Island instead of to the talked about sheep farm it makes me wonder if my parents tried to put that right or if there really is ? greater than us stirring the pot.

BOOK 03; ISBN 978-0-473-17097-4 with help from 104,700 words covers the years

while still working for somebody else but where I was the boss, and finally had hold of the BIG STICK . This is when my attitudes changed, due mainly to those around me, by now I was obviously developing my own idea of a pommie class system. Undoubtedly, the people I most admire are the guys that on their way to the top may have walked on a few others but they had the knack of making the one that was being walked on thank them for it. The way I see it, a few people can win others trust and respect for very little expense or effort to themselves, they then seem to have the skill to bend that persons will without a thought to their own future into helping him make his fortune.

It seems obvious to me that the one doing the bending must be smarter than the one being bent so that automatically puts him higher up the ladder. The only exemption to this rule is those who hide behind laws and legislation and legally rip you off.

BUREAUCRATS AND POLITICIANS. They are way down the ladder with all the other do gooders, I even put some hood wearers and dope smokers slightly above some that pass themselves off as pillars of the community.

BOOK 04; ISBN 978-0-473-17098-1 with help from 91500 words covers the period I was self-employed until I had to retire at 64 to wait for a heart valve replacement operation. Right through my life, I have always had faith in my own ability to do or make almost everything I wanted but could not afford. This book covers my time as a truck operator and farming on my own account. Towards the end I built a workshop and closed the door on my trucking, contracting, and farming past and put my mind to and figured out how to be an engineer, then set up business making and repairing gear for a timber processing plant.

(My motto could have been ‘IF GOD DID NOT MAKE IT, SOME OTHER BUGGER If you did use this, book for DUNNY PAPER, I hope you were a tidy KIWI and hung it up on the string. Furthermore l also hope you did your bit to save the planet by using BOTH SIDES. C robberteebobs books

revised and reprinted Feb 2013