The Wool Shed

It’s a bit like being a pair of squatters – parking our caravan for a couple of nights in our friend’s driveway in Featherston.  It was Les’s turn to arrange this month’s SLG outing and as we lived the farthest away, he had invited us to bring our caravan and stay for the weekend.  So here we were, safely tucked alongside the garage.  Les was most impressed with Robin’s backing skills as he manoeuvred the caravan up the drive and under the carport.

Two nights in Featherston

The rest of the group arrived after the long winding drive over the Rimutakas, drank a reviving cuppa and and engaged in a little of chit-chat,  we then headed off to Masterton for to our first stop, lunch at “Dish” cafe.  What a busy, bustling place this was, always a good sign, plenty of customers must mean great food, we feel.  Robin couldn’t go past the Big Breakfast, and I chose hot cakes with berries and cream, so yummy.  According to a recent article in the papers, Kiwis spend a staggering $3.49 billion annually eating out at cafes and restaurants!  (We personally don’t go that often, truly we don’t!)  Fed and watered, it was not too far to our next stop, “The Wool Shed”, the National Museum of Sheep and Shearing.

Outside the Wool Shed

The museum is in two relocated pioneer wool sheds and tells of sheep farming in New Zealand. The first sheep flocks were brought over from Sydney. Australia, and driven around the rugged coast from Wellington to the Wairarapa coast, and currently there are about 35 million sheep in New Zealand.  We were given a sheep shearing demonstration, with the hand piece powered by an old Lister CS diesel engine.

Lister engine ran the shearing hand pieces

The first sheep was pulled from the pen, sat on it’s rump while leaning against the shearer’s legs, and the shearing commenced.  The shearer aims for long smooth strokes, we were told, slicing away the fleece without nicking the skin.  

It looks easy but all that bending must play havoc with the shearer’s backs.   The shorn sheep looks half it’s size once the fleece is removed.

All done

Once the entire fleece has been removed from the sheep, the fleece is thrown, clean side down, on to a wool table by a shed hand (commonly known in New Zealand and Australian sheds as a roustabout or roustie). This enables short pieces of wool and any debris to gather beneath the table separately from the fleece  .There it will be skirted, (picked over removing unwanted bits and pieces), rolled and classed then pressed into an appropriate wool bale.  This high quality Merino fleece was donated to the museum,  as was the 100 year old wool table on which it rests.

Throwing the fleece onto the wool table

There were plenty of interesting displays at the museum, videos running, old photos and equipment – plenty for everyone.  A young Dad and his two boys were also there having a look around, and he had some shearing equipment to donate to the museum.

Static display of life in the shearing shed

We then drove back to Anne and Les’s home for afternoon tea, and most importantly, the SLG Annual Draw.  This is when it it decided who has which month for the next year’s outings.  Months of the year were put in a hat, passed around the group as we pulled one out each.  Then the bargaining took place.  A few wanted to swap months as they had a special major birthday coming up, or some other similar need to request a specific month instead of their allocated one.  After a few raised voices had their say it all worked out in the end and most of us went away happy.  The other guests drove home, we chatted to our hosts for a while, then retired to the caravan.  But not before catching sight of the glorious Wairarapa sunset, out came the camera again to capture those lovely colours.  What a lovely finish to an great day!

Wairarapa sunset

Military History in Featherston

Moving on from Eketahuna to stop at Featherston for a couple of nights, we didn’t know that our next stop was originally named Burlings after an 1840s pioneer.  It was renamed Featherston in 1854 after Dr Isaac Featherston, Wellington’s first provincial superintendant.  Featherston may well be a sleepy little town these days, but it is full of military history.   During WW1 it was the site of New Zealand's largest military camp, with only a memorial to show for it after all these years.   The camp housed 4500 men in huts, and 3000 men in tents, known as Canvas Town.   Most of the men were gunners and signallers, but infantrymen came to the camp for their final eight weeks of training.  It was a self contained small town,  with shops, a post office, and 16 dining halls.   The camp served  for a “Hardening Up” process and departure point prior to the long Rimutaka route march over the hill and final embarkation from Wellington.

Featherston Military Camp during WW1

Featherston Military Camp Memorial

The magnificent Anzac Hall on the corner of Birdwood and Bell Streets was built in 1916 after public fundraising  as a place to entertain the troops in training. The building included reading and writing rooms, billiard tables, a large refreshment bar, and hot and cold baths.  The hall was donated to the Featherston Borough Council in 1919 as a memorial to fallen soldiers of the Wairarapa.

Anzac Hall, built for the use of the soldiers in Featherston Camp

Featherson boasts a very striking War Memorial in the town centre to honour soldiers killed in the Great War.  The cupola and fence surrounding the memorial were made from stones brought from the nearby Tauherenikau River.  The use of stones is symbolic of the first fatigues of new recruits at the Featherston Military Camp, picking up stones. 

Featherston War Memorial

At the request of the United States, the camp was re-established as a P.O.W. camp in September 1942.  About 800 prisoners from the Battle of Guadalcanal were housed there, many of them conscripts.  The early prisoners  spent their days making furniture, operating a jute mill, and working on farms and a piggery.  The camp's most infamous event was on 25 February 1943 during a sit-in of 240 new prisoners, who refused to work. The exact sequence of events is not known, but Lieutenant Adachi was shot and wounded by the camp adjutant. This led to the prisoners either charging or appearing to charge the guards, who opened fire with rifles and sub-machine guns. Thirty seconds later 31 prisoners were dead, with another 17 dying later of their injuries, and 74 wounded. On the New Zealand side, a ricochet from a burst of the gunfire killed Private Walter Pelvin and six others were wounded. A military court of enquiry exonerated New Zealand. It blamed the incident on cultural differences that were made worse by the language barrier, but also accused two Japanese officers of inciting their fellow prisoners.  Among the issues was that the Japanese did not know that under the Third Geneva Convention compulsory work was allowed. The event remains a testimony to cultural misunderstanding for the Featherston community today. (Don’t mention the War).   After the end of the war the prisoners were worried that they could be attacked in New Zealand over the conditions of Japanese prisoner of war camps. The prisoners embarked on 30 December 1945, travelling to Japan on two large American LSTs (tank landing ships).

These days the memorial is a peaceful place, planted with a grove of cherry trees and memorial seats are dotted around which were donated by the New Zealand RSA,  the Japanese Embassy, and Featherston’s “Twin City”, Messines.

Entertaining Times at Eketahuna

There we were, camped in isolated splendour, enjoying the peaceful surroundings at Eketahuna Camping Ground.  It didn’t last too long, as one after another, other vehicles rolled into camp.  First up was a piggy back camper with a difference.  The “Bigfoot” van body was attached to a double cab Mitsubishi 4x4 truck body.  Another small camper soon parked up in the same area and were invited to check out their larger neighbour.  We watched in amazement as everyone climbed up a large step ladder to get into the 5th wheeler – obviously the only way in and out of the van, other than through the cab doors.  Too bad if an earthquake struck while you were negotiating that ladder!

In and out using a step ladder

Next to arrive was a Japanese couple in a rental motor-home who obviously could not read the “Keep off the Grass”sign.  They  drove on to the grass alongside our caravan and the wheels sunk lower and lower into the mud.  Oh dear!  The husband could speak very little English and didn’t know what to do.  Luckily his wife had a much better command of English and climbed behind the wheel.  With Robin and the camp manager guiding, she was instructed to start the engine, put it into reverse, back out off the grass, and for goodness sake, don’t stop at all till she reached the hard standing.  To her credit, she did very well, and the motor-home was soon hooked up on a nice dry site.

Backing off the wet soft grass as instructed

Robin looked out the window as a familiar looking motor-home drove in.  “That’s Stu”, he announced, as he went outside to say hello.  Stu and Robin were truck drivers at Toops for the final years of their working lives.  Stu and Dawn travel with their dog and cat, and parked up behind us on the asphalt.  We had a good catch-up after our evening meal, going over old times.

We’re not on our own any more in camp

Stu was in the dog house when he ran out of gas overnight.  That’s something else he didn’t check before leaving home, I heard him mutter.  (At his age, he should know better).  Never mind, he can get his gas bottle topped up today when they continue on their trip.

The gas bottle is empty

We had quite an entertaining time with all these antics in camp.  Locals walk down with their dogs, people ride by on bikes, and we noticed several cars driving down to the river in the dark – goodness knows what they had on their minds.  There is always something happening when you’re camping.

Please keep off the Grass

Just home a week, and we’re off caravanning again.  It’s not a bad life, is it?  But before we left, Robin decided that the caravan needed a good clean.  Especially the roof, it was covered in yellow pine pollen mixed in with dirt and road dust.  We shifted the caravan from it’s parking area around the corner and parked overnight it in the “ever so handy” set of car parks at the side of our villa.  It was then close enough to put on power, with the power cord snaking over the grass and up through our kitchen window.  That allows the fridge time to get cold before we travel, and we could give the floor a good going over with the vacuum cleaner.  And being parked just out the door makes it so much easier to pack up for a trip away.

Several of the village oldies stopped to chat with Robin while he was up on the ladder.  “Why don’t you climb up on the roof?”, one of them wanted to know.  That wouldn’t be advisable, these vans are not built to have people walking over the roof. 

A man’s work is never done

Getting rid of that pollen off the caravan didn’t last long at all.  We travelled north today, and up and over the Pahiatua Track, which was covered in pine trees.  We could see clouds of pollen in the air as we drove along, and the road seemed to have splodges of yellow paint all over it where the pollen had fallen.  Many people suffer from hay fever at this time of year, but luckily it does not seem to affect us. 

We arrived at Eketahuna Camping Ground to find it devoid of campers, except for the two long timers who are parked down under the trees.  They tend to keep to themselves and are unofficial watch dogs at the camp, letting the off site managers know when travellers arrive.  “Grass very wet, please keep off  the grass”,  the sign warned us.  So we parked on the hard, all on our lonesome. 

  All alone at Ekatahuna

We’re off to discover the delights of Eketahuna today – there is sure to be a few things of interest in this tiny place.  Then it’s back on the road and down to Featherston tomorrow.

Can’t blame the Earthquake for this!

Oh dear – the little bearded man is no more.  He lives in the caravan and now he is broken in two (OFF WITH HIS HEAD!).  With his cute little face, big ears, a silly grin, long straggly whiskers and a cheeky hat, this was Robin’s pride and joy.  He was presented to Robin as winner of the “Best Beard” competition at the Regional Caravan Club Rally way back in 2000.  Ever since the prize giving he has been proudly displayed in the caravan and has travelled many, many, miles with us, all over the country.  But he will travel no more.  Our caravan was certainly rattled and shaken around last weekend, but we can’t blame the earth quakes for this.  Sadly, it was all my fault.

The little bearded man is no more

When we pack up the caravan to move on, the pair of us have different duties.  “You look after the inside, and I’ll do the outside”, Robin likes to tell me.  My duties include making sure all the drawers are secured, take various items off the bench and place in the cupboard,  lift the TV off it’s wall bracket (it travels tucked under the pillows on the bed), and take the little bearded man down from the pelmet.  Everything was done to plan except “you know what”.  On arriving home I found the head and the body rolling around the floor.  Oh dear - it looked like he had been beheaded.  So I had to “fess up” and take the consequences.  Just look at that sad face, holding the two pieces – you can tell he is disappointed in me.

Simple Pleasures

A stay at Paekakariki Holiday Park is not complete without a walk down to the beach.  Especially a walk ending in an ice-cream, a cold drink, or maybe a coffee.  Simple pleasures indeed - you can see that it doesn’t take much to make this bunch of happy campers very happy indeed.

Purchases made, we sat down on a picnic table in the sunshine to take in the view.  The waves were rolling up on the beach, the sea was sparkling in the sunshine, and Kapiti Island was away in the distance.

Kapiti Island from Paekakariki Beach

Looking towards Pukerua Bay

We tried out the timer delay function on the new camera, placing it at the end of the picnic table.  But the camera was too low, and chopped off our heads.  The suggestion was made to place it on one of the ice-cream containers to give it extra height.  There, that’s better.  Robin  balanced it carefully on top of the empty ice-cream container, set the timer, then ran back quickly and sat down.  We waited expectantly for the flashing red light, then click, the photo was taken. 

Robin, Jenny, Dot and Derek at the beach

A couple of hardy souls in wet suits walked across the near empty beach carrying their surf boards.  The tide was out so they had quite a walk to get to deeper water.  We watched, eyes squinting in the bright glare as they waited for a big wave to carry them back in.

.Let’s go surfing

Ambling back to camp we peered over peoples fences, admired gardens, noticed a couple of rusty caravans, and generally just wandered along enjoying the walk and the company.  There were plenty of birds on the overhead power lines, sitting and chirping away.   I wonder how they reacted to all the earthquakes over the weekend?  Did they fly away chirping loudly in fright each time the ground moved and the power lines swung madly?  Or maybe like our cat Muffy, they didn’t notice anything amiss at all? 

Birds on a wire or two

Weekend at Paekakariki

After the stress and worry of that BIG earthquake, followed by a host of aftershocks, we settled back down into “caravan rally mode” for the rest of the weekend.  Such as 4zees outside in the sunshine – what could be nicer than that?  Although we did keep saying, “Is that another one coming?”, while the ground continued to move under our seats in the afternoon and shake our caravans during the evening.

It’s 4zees o'clock!

Although there were other campers dotted about at Paekakariki Holiday Park over the weekend, we seemed to be the biggest (and noisiest) group. The grounds and gardens are well kept and flowering spring bulbs made a bright and cheerful statement.  We noticed several Monarch butterflies fluttering around the trees.  Out came my new camera to snap this beauty sunning itself.

Monarch butterfly in the sunshine

The bright sunshine also showed up a whole lot of spider webs hanging off the roof line of Geoff and Eileen’s caravan.  Rather than feeling shame faced for not cleaning the outside of his caravan regularly, Geoff seemed quite proud of his spider web collection.  He regularly takes his resident spiders on caravan trips, we know, and even took some down south last year when we travelled together on our South Island Odyssey.

He loves his spiders

Some of Geoff’s Otaki spider collection

Don and Pamela planned our weekend and the details were written up on the club notice board.  Our rally weekends are not too organised, and there is always time for plenty of socialising, sitting in the sunshine, reading, or just blobbing out, whatever takes our fancy.

Rally Captain Don writing on the blackboard

We all took part in making an impromptu speech on Saturday evening – that was a little difficult for most of us.  The men were given a feminine subject each, and the ladies had to talk about such things as electronics and model railways.  The timer was on and we bumbled through our subject matter, trying to think of enough to say until the bell rang signalling the end of our ordeal. As a reward we shared Don’s birthday cake for supper, as he celebrated turning another year older.

Happy Birthday Don