Family Lunch

How long was it, we wondered, since we four siblings had all been together?  Too long, of course, and this was finally rectified last weekend in Masterton.  Big brother Brian flew in with his wife Noeleen from Brisbane, to stay with younger sister Karla.  Elder sister Kathleen, with daughter Lisa and G-D Kate came down from Hastings.  And, as it happened, Robin and I were camping in Masterton for the weekend, so it all worked out well.

Jenny, Brian, Kathleen and Karla

As to be expected, there was plenty of chatter going on while we ate our lunch at the Cafe Strada.  Travel plans were discussed - LIsa and Kate are heading over to the UK soon, and we want are going to rebook the Indian Pacific train trip.

Kate, Karla, Jenny, Brian, Kathleen, Lisa and Noeleen

It was so nice to catch up again, let's hope it's not too long till the next get-together.

Hunkering down at Moata POP

With the “Weather Bomb” raging in southern parts of the country we are lying low in rural Masterton.  The extra strong winds are a worry, and travel has been restricted over some roads with wild wind warnings.  Yesterday the Inter Island Ferry was not sailing, and flights in and out of Wellington Airport cancelled.  Even Wellington City’s trolley bus fleet was grounded, and the power to overhead lines for the buses turned off amid fears of the live lines being blown down onto vehicles and pedestrians.  I’ve been worriedly looking at those tall trees surrounding us at the Moata POP, hoping that they are strong enough to withstand the strong winds and not come crashing down on top of us.

Tall trees swaying in the wind

We were joined at Moata yesterday by two couples travelling in Dethletts, a caravan and a motorhome.  That makes a total of five vans, and there is plenty of room for a couple more.

Two Leisurelines, two Dethletts and a UCC camper

The new arrivals were also part of the hundreds of vans at the Music Festival, and remembered seeing us there.  And we remembered them too, as the caravan had trouble with his brakes and Robin and Bill wandered over to see if they could help.  The problem was eventually fixed and they went on their way for several days, before arriving at the rural POP yesterday.  We joined forces for 4zees yesterday and got to know each other.  The rain came down and we must have looked quite a sight, sheltering from the wet conditions under the awnings.

Brake trouble at the Music Festival

There is a pretty little church down the road.   St Andrew's in the Paddock is at Fernridge, on Upper Plain Road, Masterton and was built in 1922  by the prominent Masterton building firm, Hulme and Penistone.

St Andrews in the Paddock

We are staying here at Moata for another night and do hope that the winds will have blown themselves out as we will be travelling on to Kauhutura School in Featherston for a caravan club rally.  Fingers and toes will be firmly crossed for better weather for our weekend rally.

Farm stay at Moata

It seemed that we were some of the last to leave the Music Festival venue.  While we were having our final morning tea together the remaining vans all seemed to have quietly disappeared.  We were heading north to Masterton, and after a brief stop at the supermarket to replenish the fridge, agreed to meet up at Henley Lake for lunch.  What a pretty place this is – and as a bonus, plenty of parking available for those like us towing vans.    We ate our lunches under the shady trees, with plenty of ducks to keep us company.  Those vans with certified self containment can stay overnight, but we were shortly moving on.

Ducks at Henley Lake

We had arranged to spend the next few nights at Moata Park Over just north of Masterton.  Through the white picket fence and up the long tree lined driveway we went.

Up the long driveway

Passing sheep on the way

There was a warning sign to get past, and then we spotted the little wooden bridge looking just the sort of bridge which could well have a troll hiding underneath.

Warning sign at the entrance, and a rickety bridge just right for a troll to hide under

With a bit of fancy maneuvering, the three of us were soon settled on site.  Our van and Bill and Val’s were parked side on so that we could share the shade of the awnings, and Lorraine parked her camper at the end to give us some shelter from the blustery wind.

On site at Moata POP

After five days away we were in dire need of a visit to the launderette.  Just because we are on holiday, the laundry never stops, does it.

Never ending laundry duties for Jenny, Lorraine and Val

Bill braved the blustery conditions and went for a bike ride

And then these two checked out what was underneath Bill’s van

Later on as we were enjoying the shade under the awnings we could hear Val hard at work in her kitchen.  She surprised us with some cheese and bacon scones for afternoon tea.  Thanks Val, much appreciated.

Yummy scones for afternoon tea

The wind is just as bad as ever, and now we find out that the country will be hit with a “weather bomb”.  We will have to batten down the hatches - just as well we plan to sit tight for the next few days. 

Visiting the Foxton Stripper

It was a day out with the boys when the Menz Shed blokes invited their spouses out for lunch in Foxton.  We all met at the Dutch Oven Café, checked out the cabinet display.  Consequently, three helpings of macaroni cheese and one large sausage roll and salad was delivered to our table.

At the Dutch Oven Café

Lunch over, the team gathered at the Flax Stripper Museum, which opened in 1990.  Volunteer Tony Hunt was extremely knowledgeable about the history of flax in the area.

Foxton was the only town in New Zealand to develop a large-scale flax industry which lasted from 1888 to 1974.  The production of flax fibre was Foxton's principal source of income and three generations of workers found employment in the swamps and mills of the district.  The invention of a machine (known as a stripper) to extract fibre from the flax leaves could eventually produce 560 pounds of fibre in a day, and led to large scale production. This was draped outside to dry and bleach in the sun.

The invention of the stripper quickly led to the development of a substantial export trade and the establishment of flax dressing factories in many parts of New Zealand.  Flax mills were usually situated in close proximity to a flax swamp and on the banks of a river or stream, for a good supply of running water was needed to wash the fibre after it had emerged from the stripper. Most of these early mills were powered by steam engines, but some utilized water wheels, or were driven by horses walking in a circle.  In the late 1800s there were 50 mills operating in the Manawatu area.

Tony gave us a demonstration of this rather lethal looking machine and fed flax leaves though the stripper.  Whoosh, with a hiss and a roar the leaves were sucked through the machine in a blink of an eye.  

The Stripper machine

And came out looking like this

The flax industry went through several boom and bust cycles, disease spread through the plants, cheaper fibre from overseas became available, all contributing to the local decline.  Woolpacks and Textile Company kept the local economy afloat manufacturing wool packs, flax underfelt, hardwearing  matting, and in  1955 the 100% sisal carpet, cordella, was introduced.  But tastes and times were changing and the factory was closed in 1980s.

Examples of hard wearing sisal matting

Of course, before all this mechanization, the Maori people knew all about flax, weaving it into baskets and mats, and using the fibre to make ropes, footwear and clothing.  The nectar from its flowers made a sweet drink. The crushed roots made poultices for skin infections, and produced a juice with disinfectant and laxative properties. The gum from the base of the leaves eased pain and healed wounds, especially burns. The leaves themselves could be used as bandages and to secure broken bones.

Clothing utilizing flax

The “Keep Foxton Beautiful” group were instrumental in securing the last remaining flax stripper for the museum.  And what a good thing it was rescued, a very important piece of Foxton’s heritage.  Many thanks to Tony Hunt for an interesting afternoon.

60s Up Bus Trip to Masterton

Billed as a “Mystery Trip”, this day out had people wondering just where we were going.  With the early departure time of 8.30am, it was obvious we were ranging far and wide.  But in what direction, everyone wanted to know.  Our favourite bus driver Peter was taking us out for the day again, and unusually for him, was a little late arriving.  It seems that he was getting ready to pick up another bus load at a later time, when he was informed that plans had changed and to get down to the 60s Up pickup point pronto. 

When everyone had clambered on board, and the walkers stowed away, Peter drove us southwards along SH1, eventually pulling into a rest area at Paremata Estuary for a comfort stop.  This is such a pretty area, looking out over the estuary.  The adjacent coffee cart was doing a roaring  trade, and a group of school kids were lined up at the sailing club ready for a morning of instruction.

Paremata Estuary

The bus then travelled around the Pauahatanui Inlet, much to the surprise of the passengers, who were sure our day out was to be in Wellington.  Not so – as it turned out.  Next stop was at Aston Norwood Gardens, (formerly Kaitoke Country Gardens) for morning tea, and a walk around their gardens, for those who could manage it.

Dot and Jenny walking off their morning tea

The next part of the trip was a trial for some of our group, travelling in a big bus over the steep Rimutaka Hill.  Some of our older members probably wouldn’t have travelled this hill road for some time, and there were a few mutterings to be heard.   Those on the left hand side were a bit concerned at the steep drop outside their windows, while the passengers on the right hand side of the bus has their hearts in their mouths as one big logging truck after another came careering around the corner, to pass agonising close to their side of the bus.  But Peter, of course, was a professional driver, and took us up and over the hill without a scratch.

Our destination was Masterton, to visit the Aratoi Museum ans see the exhibition about the Featherston Military Training Camp, the largest continuously occupied military camp during WW1.  Together with the nearby camps of Tauherenikau and Papawai, Featherston Camp prepared more than half of New Zealand’s total fighting force, around 60,000 men, for war.

Tent City at Featherston Camp

Planning began in July 1915, following deaths at Trentham Military Camp due to outbreaks of measles, influenza and meningitis due to overcrowding.  The area just north of Featherson was considered ideal for the purpose, with plenty of space for large scale training activities, bracing weather conditions, and ready access to fresh water.  By September, 150 civilian tradesmen worked on the site, with the numbers increasing to 1000 at the height of construction.  It could accommodate 4,500 soldiers, 1,000 instructors and administration staff.  Sadly, influenza struck the camp in 1918, killing 160 and infecting thousands of other men.

Camp food was filling but monotonous, with mutton featuring heavily on the menu, supplemented with beef.  Breakfast was a conglomeration of the previous evening’s meal in the way of curries and stews, while lunch consisted of “dry rations only”, bread, jam, cheese and tea.  The troops trained hard for their imminent departure overseas, and the “Rimutaka March” was regarded as a rite of passage.  Starting in the early hours of the morning, the route took them through the main street of Featherston where local people would often gather to wave them on their way.  They would then ascend the steep road towards the summit, where a delegation from the Wairarapa Patriotic Association would welcome them with food and tea.

The Rimutaka March

From here it was on to Wellington to board the troop ships and head off to the horrors war. Some of them had time for a little sightseeing – Egypt must have been an exciting exotic place for a little R & R.  Many of course, never made it back home, nor did the thousands of horses which were sent overseas with them. 

This was a very interesting and thought provoking exhibition and when we had seen it all, we wandered outside to wait for the bus to come back and collect us.  

Waiting for the bus

The drive back home took us northwards to Woodville and through the Manawatu Gorge, coming back down SH1 to Levin, sparing some of the more nervous passengers a second trip back over the Rimutaka Hill.  Not many would have been looking at the sights out the window, as many were fast asleep, grey heads nodding gently with the movement of the bus.  It was another great day out with the 60s Up group.

Heading Home

The weather wasn’t too great for our weekend rally at Masterton, wet and drizzly and very slushy underfoot.  There was no sunshine to sit out and enjoy on this rally.  But we can’t complain, it is winter, after all, and luckily there was no cold wind to drop the temperature down dramatically.  After our Sunday morning tea, it was time to pack up, say our goodbyes, and get on the road again.  Some were heading north, two couples decided to have an extra night away, and the rest of us trundled off to our respective homes.  But first, we had to attend to the all important visit to the dump station, nice and handy in the camp grounds.

Emptying the waste water is men’s work

Our trip home took us north up SH2, driving past Mt Bruce National Wildlife Centre and Eketahuna, up to Pahiatua.  We turned off at Pahiatua and drove over the attractive concrete “bowstring arch” bridge.  The bridge contract was let to Fletcher Construction Company in May 1931, and was completed for  £14,000.  Bridge construction was an unusual move for Fletcher Construction Company, but the company saw bridge building as an opportunity to keep its concrete-based workforce employed during the Great Depression.   With state subsidies for roading projects  on offer, it was a sensible way to keep the business afloat during these difficult years. The Pahiatua Town Bridge is now listed as “Historic Place Category 1”.

Pahiatua Town Bridge

Up and over the Pahiatua Track we drove, with rain following us most of the way.  Although called a track, this is in fact a real road, no trouble at all, even when towing a caravan.  The Track is an alternative route instead of driving through the Manawatu Gorge.  Getting close to home we noticed misty clouds hanging low in the foothills.

Nearly home now

We quickly unpacked the caravan in the rain and settled down for a late lunch.  Our house was a bit chilly after being left empty over the weekend, but the heat pump soon took care of that.    With a warming bowl of soup for lunch, we soon feeling nice and cosy.  Then it was back to the caravan for a quick clean and vacuum – there, all spic and span for next time.  

Mawley Holiday Park, Masterton

Mawley Holiday Park is nestled in a sheltered, peaceful park-like setting on the banks of the Waipoua River.  Fully-refurbished in 2012, Mawley Holiday Park offers campers like us powered caravan sites, and modern ablution blocks with en-suite shower, toilet and hand basin in each unit.  And the park is just a short walk away from the beautiful QEII Park, with it’s adventure playground, heated indoor and outdoor pool complex with hydro-slide, skate park, museums, and mini golf.

Lovely setting at the caravan park

This is our AGM Rally, and although a little robust at times, the AGM went off without a hitch.  The new committee is a mixture of old and new, with some committee members staying on for another term, with a couple of newer members voted in too.  They will all work together to ensure another year of caravan club rallies at interesting sites.  President Derek welcomed two new members into the club, it’s great to have you, Sandy and Bea.

New members Sandy and Bea, with Derek

With the AGM done and dusted, some went off to visit the shops, while others stayed around camp visiting with fellow members. Now what is this group doing?  Looks like they are having a secret meeting all  squashed inside Selwyn and Kath’s new porch awning.  I’ve no idea what it was all about, as they didn’t invite me to the meeting!

Secret meeting under the awning

The all important 4zees took place at, you’ve guessed it, 4pm.  We had a visit from Harry, a member of the Wairarapa Caravan Club, who popped in to welcome us to his little patch of paradise, and catch up with our news.  Later on some went out for the evening meal, some stayed back in camp and self catered, and we all got together in the evening.  We are fortunate to have the use of the TV room for our AGM meeting and to socialise in  the evenings.

Jubilee Fire Museum, Masterton

Situated adjacent to the Wool Shed Museum (which we visited on Sunday) is the Jubilee Fire Museum.  This small museum declares it “celebrates a bygone era in fire fighting services”.  Pride of place is the Jubilee horse drawn fire appliance, a magnificent example of Victorian engineering.  Purchased by the Masterton Borough Council in 1887, the year of Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee, the town’s first fire engine was named the Jubilee Fire Engine in recognition of this milestone.

Jubilee Fire Engine

The Jubilee appliance is a horse drawn Shand Mason steam pump, which can deliver 300 gallons (1440 litres) of water per minute. The engine was fired by coal, which burned in an under-slung fire bucket.  Fires were a major hazard to the early settlers, with fire spreading rapidly between houses and commercial buildings all constructed of native timber.  The Jubilee had a long and active working life, remaining in active service until 1925 when a motorised appliance was purchased.

 

The museum has various fire fighting  photos, uniforms  and memorabilia scattered around.  (Did you know that Robin worked for the NZ Fire Service for 5 years as a Contracts Manager purchasing the new style gold coloured protective clothing for fire fighters?)   I particularly liked the fireman sliding down the pole, dressed in his long woollen underwear. He’s off to save the town from burning down!

Down the pole

Rescuing his Cromer Cap

Robin had lost his favourite cap, his nice blue cap all the way from Cromer, a coastal town in Norfolk, UK.  It seems he had left it behind on our recent trip to the Wairarapa a week or so ago.  But where?  We had stopped at several different places and no doubt his cap had been off an on his head numerous times during the day.  A couple of phone-calls later, he had tracked it down.  The cap had been left behind at Aberdeen Restaurant in Masterton, while we were enjoying our two-for-one lunch deal.   Robin decided to get in the car, drive over the hill, and rescue his cap.  It might well be a long way to go, but after all, the Cromer Lifeboat cap is one of his favourites, and we have very happy memories of our time there.  With his cap back on his head, Robin was a very happy man. Sadly it was not the crab season at the time of our visit so did not get to taste Cromer Crabs.  Oh well maybe there will be a next time!

Reunited with his favourite cap

Way back in 1999 as we travelled around the UK we spent a very happy few days with my penfriend Janet and her husband Alan in Cromer.  They were very much involved with the  Lifeboat Trust, and took us to visit the famous Cromer Pier, from which the lifeboats are launched.

The Cromer Pier

The Trust runs a shop to raise extra funds and Robin got his cap there.  As we were visitors from the Antipodes, we so got a “behind the scenes” look at the lifeboat and it was explained to us how this craft was launched down the ramp, with the motor revving at full throttle.  This particular boat in the photo has since been replaced with a newer version.

Cromer Lifeboat – circa 1999

As one of the crew said in a newspaper interview:  “Years ago, the retired fishermen would work the lifeboats. Now they are butchers, bakers, bricklayers, all people from the town. We can go months without any calls, then get three or four in a month. You run along the pier to get to the lifeboat as quick as you can, your adrenaline is pumping, you never know what you are going to be doing in that boathouse. It could be to retrieve someone from the water, a ship run aground, a collision of tankers, a lost diver, anything. It's a little bit more exciting when you run along in a gale by the light of the moon and you are wondering what sort of night are we going to have?”.   That’s certainly the spirit of volunteering dedication, isn’t it?

Two Buckets of Balls

Practising our golf swings was on the agenda for our group of SLG friends on Sunday, over at Solway Golf Driving Range in Masterton. Anne put the money into the machine and the golf balls came tumbling out into the buckets. Two buckets full gave us 200 balls to have a hit with. No golfing for me though, I was in too much pain to be doing any strenuous exercise due to a pulled muscle in my side. It was a bit strange how it happened. There I was the previous day, leaning down into our chest freezer. I was stretching down to look through the meat at the bottom to choose something for our evening meal. Then I felt something “ping” in my side, and I had this terrible pain. Luckily I didn’t topple up and over right down to the bottom of the freezer with fright.

Everyone else selected their clubs, lined up a few balls, and had a go. The driving range has individual booths, and looked out over the driving range littered with plenty of golf balls from earlier patrons. The idea of course, was to hit the ball as far as possible, and the green had distance signs up to show how far the balls went. Bang, bang, some of our people couldn’t aim straight and the ball hit the wall of their booths. A local family down one end were doing great, hitting one ball after the other, and they were all going in the right direction. I think some of our group could have done with a bit of coaching from them.

Robin practising his golf swing

Robin soon got into the swing of things and the balls went flying out, he used to play golf some years ago and it soon came back to him. The ladies all had a go too, and everyone had some laughs at their own efforts, and those of all the others. Don’t think Tiger Woods has anything to worry about with our lot though.

The happy golfers

After all that exercise we were more than ready for our lunch. The golf clubs were returned, we gathered up our belongings, and we stepped inside to the adjacent Cafe. There was plenty of hot tasty choices to warm us up on such a wet chilly day. Our group may not be experts at golf, but there is no doubt we excel at eating and talking. The noise at any of our get togethers has to be heard to be believed.