Wally's tales

Once we spent a holiday in Fiji. When Trans Hotel management in New Zealand found out where we were going, they made us an offer to give us discounted accommodation for assistance I had given them over the years. They then supplied us with brochures of their ‘Man Friday’ hotel which showed a shop filled to overflowing with fresh fruit. A swimming pool in the shape of a native’s foot, plus a letter instructing the manager to look after us and ensure we obtained the discount. The accommodation was in the form of individual ‘Bures’ so we could cook for ourselves if we so desired. The swimming pool was a figment of their imagination, it didn’t exist. The lagoon when the tide went out, didn’t exist either. I inquired from the manager, ‘Where was the fruit shown in their brochures?’ I was told, ‘ Sorry, it’s out of season’. So we journeyed into Sigatoka and went to the market where there was plenty of fruit. I could see from the looks the merchants were giving me, I was about to be skinned alive. We had already been mauled several times over by the taxi drivers. So I thought I would try a new technique. I approached an old depressed and sad lady seated outside the market and said, ‘I will give you $10 to bargain for me a selection of fruits, plus all the ingredients for a curry’. You can keep any change. What a transformation came over her. She became a screaming harridan and very soon had obtained more fruit and vegetables for us than we could carry. She seemed extremely happy with the deal, and so were we.

I couldn’t get over how little some people lived on, I wandered through a village one day and stopped at their store. I could have purchased all their stock with my loose change that I had in my pocket. I saw some clothes pegs, and said to the girl in charge, I would buy the whole card, about two dozen. The girl said ,So many? Nobody, just nobody in this world, needs two dozen pegs. When we returned to our Hotel, fruit was in Season again. The shop was packed to overflowing with fresh fruit.

I’m not a fan of haggling for goods. But I did buy a Seiko Automatic Watch which I’m still wearing and did haggle for. On departure we were met at the entrance of the Air Port by an old frail Fijian. He had an equally old trolley and offered to carry our bags. I thought of what normally happens to money left over from a foreign visit. It is put into a plastic bag for our next visit, which never happens. So I said to the old chap. ‘For you, Christmas this year, comes early.’ I then emptied my pockets of all my money and gave it to him. We ran into the Ticketing Hall behind our baggage. The Fijian ignored all the queues and took us to a reception marked ‘Closed’ He jumped the counter and spoke to the clerk busy ticketing. He immediately reached up and marked his work area ‘Closed’ and came down to attend to us, and give us our boarding passes. Waiting passengers immediately switched queues and formed up behind us, only to be shunted off by our new found guardian, we were allowed to stand as VIP’s alone. Laura kept asking me how much did you give this fellow? I replied I didn’t know, but it’s great service, enjoy it. It so happened that there was some Port Chalmers people who we knew very well observing this carry on. After they managed to cope with their trauma of ticketing, they came over to inquire what was going on. How did we get such special service? I said I would tell them but there was an embargo on the information, and they were not allowed to talk about it. I had just been appointed High Commissioner of Fiji. It seemed a shame not to exploit the situation. Anyway it had a sequel a year later, when the same people came to Queenstown for a Yacht Race. Later when entering a Restaurant, I could see they were talking about me. When I came up to greet them, they all stood up and bowed.

Looking back over the years I have enjoyed many changes of occupation, as well as places where we lived. Some occupations were thrust onto me, others I applied for and was and given a chance.

I was born at Port Chalmers 29^th June 1923 and enjoyed a very happy childhood with a younger brother and sister. Port Chalmers then was a small, but busy shipping Port. With a couple of large engineering works, a ferrous and non ferrous moulding shop, pattern makers. All employing a couple of hundred or so. A large fishing industry was active both in and off shore. This was the situation until the depression arrived. And it did so with a vengeance, this in reality spelt doom for the Port. It ended the town’s helicon years. All support services one after another were lost or slowly closed down. The Union Company who also had one of their NZ Bases and repair workshops in the Port, also wound down their chandlery and shipping activities. I can remember a huge fleet of Union Company vessels, all laid up, rafted together in the harbour off Carey’s Bay. A couple of docks, and all their infrastructure that went with them, were leveled and filled in, to make available new wharf marshalling areas that a sea port of the future required. The three railway stations, Post Office, Banks, over time were all closed as well.

At my father’s suggestion learn a trade. ‘You will always have that to fall back on’, So I took up an apprenticeship with the NZ Railways as a fitter. I also returned to night school, and liked the engineering theory that it required. This stood me in good stead later when studying Navigation, as Trigonometry was the one subject that they were both based on. I didn’t last very long in my chosen trade. As soon as I turned eighteen, I was conscripted into the Army, the ‘Second Scottish Regiment’ as a private. We at the time were all that stood between the Japanese Military expansive ambitions, and our current way of life. A very thin line indeed. Our regular army of a couple of Divisions were busy fighting the Germans and Italians in the Western Desert. With Ralph Maxwell who I met on my first day in the Army, taught all of the Head Quarters Company how to drive heavy trucks, as we both held ‘Heavy Traffic Licences’ we both ended up driving Light Tanks, or Bren Carriers. I had been driving a milk truck around the Port village delivering milk, (Unpaid) for about three years just to get some driving practice and skill while the owner, Bondie Thompson chatted up the cook in a local Hotel. When I turned fifteen, the legal age in New Zealand to drive, I immediately applied for a licence. Jim McElwee testing officer, said when I applied. ‘Just give me five shillings, and you can have your licence’ I have watched you driving around here for years.’

After a year, the Japanese expansion had been halted by the Americans at Midway. I could now change military services if I desired, or ask for a discharge from the Army. I managed to get my parents permission to join the Air Force and was accepted as an Air Crew candidate. I passed my entrance exams and did my preliminary flying at Taieri Airport on Tiger Moths. After 50 hours of flight training I was selected to move onto Service Flying in Canada on Harvards. There I graduated in Air Combat, Dive Bombing, strafing, and finally gained my wings. Now, I was a menace to the enemy, and for that matter anyone near me as well. I was posted to England and got as far as Halifax, when my travel plans were suddenly switched back to the pacific. Took this in my stride, as half of the group I had initially belonged with had remained in New Zealand and had already completed two tours in the pacific in Corsair fighters, while we were still waiting to commence our training. The one thing that annoyed me was that we got no recognition for our Army service, yet the Government was prepared to sacrifice us in a futile effort to halt the Japanese. A simple ‘Thanks’ would have done.

The Japanese Air Force through constant fighting and attrition, had been reduced to Kamakazi status, this was the only way their Pilots could be effectively employed, which took tremendous amount of courage, and a death wish to carry out. They were no longer the superb fighting force that they had started out with. At this time New Zealand now had a well trained Air Force capability, possibly actually greater than England’s at the start of the Battle of Britain.

After the War and demobbed, I didn’t wish to return to Engineering. It was too dirty, and not well paid, so with my brother we bought a milk round connected with a carrying business. We made good money, but it was very hard work. At the same time I worked as a projectionist at the Family movie theatre. After a few years we sold up our milk business, my brother had enough money to pursue his dreams, and bought an orchard at Earnscleugh. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but applied for and got a job with the National Bank as a ‘Pressure Cooker’ Bank Officer. One day I looked up to see a guy in a pin stripped suit standing over me. Turned out to be the General Manager. He inquired how was it that I had as much in Merit Rises as in salary. Would I take promotion, if it was offered to me? I said Yes, but didn’t wish to lose the merit chunk of my salary which I would if I became an executive. Being told I would soon make it up, I suddenly had my foot on the first rung on the promotion ladder. Department Head, Second officer, Accountant and finally a Manager.

I stayed with the Bank until I retired for the first time, as really enjoyed country banking. Once retired I commenced the second stage of my career. Then, I only did what I deemed ‘Interesting things’ which shall relate to later.

An interesting part of our of our time in Queenstown was the effect on our social and business activities by the mixing and assisting the many Foreign Families who visited our Country regularly. But more often than not, it was the French who took their annual vacations with us. In the main they were wealthy, and came to escape the high humidity and heat of their Summers. Over time they purchased considerable real estate properties in the Area. My French at the time was limited to ‘Bon Jour’ and Re’pondez s’il vous plait. Their English was on a par with my French. To correct my ineptitude, Laura bought me a lingaphone and cassettes. (English/French) I then spent an half hour every morning while showering and shaving, listening to, and endeavouring to speak another language.

As well as the French, we had many American friends who were mainly connected with Airlines. They were one section of the public who could fly around the world cheaply with discounted fares. Most of our friendships with foreigners was spread over a forty year period, so over time they became very firm friends. One American family even gave me my first computer. A ‘Commodore 64’, what a treasure it was! I became addicted to computing from that day onward. Computers at this time were issued without a screen, as they were meant to be hooked up through your conventual TV. Our TV system in New Zealand at the time was PAL, but to make it work I now required a set compatible with the American system NTSC. I solved this problem by asking my son to post a note on the American Deep Freeze bulletin Board in Christchurch. Someone would have been bound to have brought an American set over from the States, not being aware our TV system was a different format. But the biggest area of change to our lives as a result of our various friendships was enjoying the various cuisines they brought with them. What a change we experienced in our eating habits. I would like to record, that we too had effected some changes in them as well. Earlier, we had been introduced to a new cuisines to some degree, by our friendship with the Chinese Community. They acquainted us with their wonderful Cantonese cuisine. Our cooking must have been really boring, until we met up with these various ethnic groups. The French also came not only with their own regional recipes, but with many dishes from their former Colonial Territories such as Algerian, Morocco, Vietnam and some other North African countries who they had been associated with for a couple of hundred years or so. Many descendants of these cultures were still closely affiliated with the French, and working alongside them in New Caledonia. New Caledonia was an interesting ‘Pot Pouri’ of many other cultures, every country seemed to be represented there, Javanese, Malaysia, Italian, Japanese. So with their assistance and I suppose by osmosis, we were quickly introduced to Garlic, Chilli Peppers, Soya sauce, and many other spices we had never heard off. To think I was being paid to work amongst these interesting people. At this time nobody in New Zealand, just nobody, used garlic, Cous Cous, chilli peppers, and the endless list of all the other flavours in the world. Another area the French introduced us was the appreciation of wine. Our wine earlier was commonly regarded as plain ‘Plonk’ by all and sundry. Some of it was just that. In addition New Zealand had the most archaic set of liquor laws imaginable. Drinking in the evenings had to cease at 6:00pm unless you were having a meal. No wonder binge drinking was considered a normal activity. But if you looked for it, there were wines to be found here that were equal to any in the world.

At one time I was offered a job to work with the French, but I turned it down preferring to work on a ‘ad hoc’ friendship basis, when required from time to time. What it did mean over the years, we enjoyed many winter holidays in the tropics. I really liked the total immersion of the French culture and their language. It wasn’t all that difficult to take French citizens along to the Dentist, Doctor, or Medical Specialist, or to assist them with their financial or property problems, especially when they didn’t have a good command of English.

I also had to come to grips with some of their more pleasant social habits, such as kissing the women when first greeting them, or saying goodbye. My Staff soon got used to this, and after time accepted it and stopped their sniggering.

Over the years I have formed a very jaundiced view of Auctions and Auctioneers. This attitude was initially brought about while courting a girl in Auckland. When she went off daily to her work and to fill in my day I accompanied her mother into the City. Once there, she introduced me into her hobby and passion, attending all and any of Public Auctions. With her introduction I soon became very well known to the Auction fraternity. We haunted the Auction Rooms and at the end of any day I would be the proud owner of at least half a dozen lounge suites, many boxes of ’Bric-a-Brac’, enough furniture to fill several homes, and goodness knows what else. The Auctioneers knocked items down to me a passive, but, ‘in the know’ bystander. Whenever he considered that the bidding was slow, or he thought maybe he could do better tomorrow. The goods on sale were always being sold to ‘That young man over there’. I soon realised that the system operating, was one of never giving the suckers an even break. If you are serious about buying at an auction, you never want to be intimidated by an Auctioneer, or for that matter their legal representatives, or any connected to the Auction industry. Don’t ever be afraid to challenge, or ask questions. I didn’t need to be reminded of this when buying a home in Queenstown. The legal fellow was reading out the ‘Conditions of sale’. When he came to Clause 23, “In that all items under Hire Purchase shall be the responsibility of the purchaser”. All told, the reading took about 20 minutes, and put half the room to sleep as he droned on, and on. Any questions he intoned? He obviously didn’t expect any, until I popped up and inquired, ‘What exactly are the Hire Purchase items you mentioned?’. At first he denied saying anything about H/P. Then switched to saying ’We always put that clause in’. I was not satisfied and wouldn’t let go. Why do you always put that clause in? A hasty huddle of lawyers was convened on the stage, after 10 minutes they declared they didn’t know what amount of money was involved, at this stage, either by accident or design I had effectively got rid of half of the potential bidders, and put the rest in some serious doubt, including myself. I did a quick mental calculation, and reckoned that $10,000 should be the max to be allowed for that item in my bid to cover the ‘contingent liability’ of the Hire Purchase. The Auction was all over in a couple of minutes, as there were no other bidders apart from me. And for the record, there was no Hire Purchase sum outstanding either.

My old friend Mannerswood from Yacht Club days turned up again. Would I go to the Auction sale of the Homestead of Coronet Station and bid an his behalf? He was prepared to buy the homestead if it went for at a price up to $169,000, top. Doug Stewart was the auctioneer, an additional clause was added to his usual preamble. He would only accept bids of $10,000. I saw immediately, once the auction got under way that I was on the wrong foot, and would have to stop the $10,000 bids when the bidding reached $160,000 as the next bid would jump over my limit. So I called out $161,000, this earned me a immediate public censure and reprimand. Did I not understand his terms? Was I stupid? We will start again. Any advance on $160k. I called out $161k again, and before the auctioneer could respond, someone else called out $162. I quickly responded with $163k, then auctioneer lost his cool and control. The Homestead was Mannerswood’s at $169k

My time these days seem to be taken up by visiting Laura. She has been transferred recently to The Princes Margaret Hospital. This unit is more a rehabilitation stroke facility and just what she requires. They must be doing their work as after her re-education work she is very tired. As an additional benefit for me, it’s located only 1.5 kilometres from our home, it also has heaps of ‘free’ parking. Laura is making slow but sure progress, but sometimes she makes a leap forward for the strangest reason. She had been struggling with her speech, but last night while at the Hospital I was speaking to Mark on the cell phone. He was returning home through The Nevis at dusk. We have a family rule, never too travel through the Inland Passes after dusk in Winter. The reason being all support services are withdrawn overnight. Get into trouble, and you have to get your self out. He was concerned about running into snow in the Lindis and wanted the weather forecast. I held up the cell phone for Laura to say hello. Immediately she burst forth, into an animated conversation. I knew then she was making progress.

Part of her treatment is thickened fluids, this includes thickened coffee, Yuk! But today, I took her for a short promenade outside in her wheel chair, where I fed her an ice cream. All of this was noted by the staff. Nothing it would seem escapes the eagle eyed staff’s attention here. I said later, ‘I only gave her that, as I had observed the same item on her lunch tray’. ‘That’, they said, was not the same, that what we fed her, was thickened Ice cream! Anyway after that escapade, she is now allowed water, just plain water, unthickened. Just as well we don’t know what’s around the corner for any of us. All other fluids that she touches is thickened, coffee, all meals, so plain water is another milestone. Small step I know, but any journey is made up from many small steps.

I went into see her this morning, I approached her bed and what a shock greeted me. Here she was, wearing a fitted plastic oxygen mask, a wet towel over he head, and an alarm and drip and some other apparatus was attached to her body. She was also the colour of white parchment. As I bent over to greet her, I then discovered this ‘Body’ wasn’t Laura, she had been moved out of the ward in the night. This game of musical beds will be the death of me. It has happened before, but this time they just made it a little harder

Yesterday was Melbourne Cup day. I remembered back to one day when Stuart Falconer called to my office. He was smoking a full, ‘long filler’ cigar, by Justus Van Maurik. Dressed to the nines, Stuart was larger than life in everything he did. A colourful fellow who was always doing outrageous things, but always with a flair. A year earlier he had won the Melbourne Cup with a horse called ‘Bagdad Note’, an outsider too. It should never have happened. In fact, he was carrying the actual cup in a dirty old sugar bag with him, which he now, ‘up ended’ onto my desk. Out tumbled the ‘Cup’ much to my pleasure. It was wonderful just to hold it, and listen to his story which he must have repeated a hundred times, of how this New Zealand horse beat everything in Australasia. Unfortunately he wasn’t to keep the Cup much longer, as one night a burglar (probably an Australian) called and stole it, possibly to claim it back. Sure he received the Insurance cover he had over it, but it was much like the dozen Victoria Crosses and other medals stolen from the Military Museum at Waiouru. They are all irreplaceable artefacts, all won by outstanding acts of bravery! I suppose in this case the thief would have melted the cup down for the monetary value of the gold, as all the winners of the Melbourne Cups and their holders are all very well known.

Seeing we now had the boat, our next exercise required was to give it a name. After much deliberation we named her ‘Mademoiselle’, what a fine young lady she was too. The next weekend there was a competition held at the local school to acquaint and give the Public a close inspection of the new Boats. We were shown how to step the mast, rig the boat for preparation to sail. In this we had no skill, so we had no interest in showing how fast we were in carrying these exercises. We left early to launch the boat and put into practice the very little book learning we had hastily absorbed. If we thought that we left the School unobserved, it was not so, some of the local experts Mannerswood and a Brown, also departed and were lying in wait on the Lake for our return, and to give us a hiding, and a display their expertise. To get out into the Lake we had to tack through the Frankton Neck and I can still remember Beth saying to me. ‘You have enough room to attempt to ‘Go About’, or we are in trouble and into the Willows’. I had been following the book on sailing slavishly, it said. ‘If you move the rudder too violently you will stall it’, ‘and you be in ‘Irons’’. I was being far too gentle, and was always going to remain in ‘Irons’ and never ever, Go About. But problem after problem, that presented it’s self, was slowly sorted. When we returned to sail down Frankton Arm, we met up with the yacht clubs ‘Smart Alex’s’. But the God’s of the sea were there too, the Titans, Poseidons, and Neptune’s were also present, this day they had decided to give their blessings and smile on the novices. In this we were given a very stiff breeze from the South, which meant we were sailing on a ‘broad reach’ this is also the most powerful angle for a boat to sail, it is also the most forgiving angle. We only had one suit of sails, but the foresail was a huge Genoa. This was an immense and powerful sail, perfect for these conditions. Mademoiselle just flew. The centre board and rudder were both making the loud resonance noises that goes with speed, with the bone in her teeth, we were actually running away from our competition. They in desperation tried to set their spinnaker, but got into a mess as the wind was just a little too ‘shy’. Laura said, We are lying over too far, aren’t we?’ I replied, with my fingers crossed, There is a red line on the deck of the boat that says, ’Cover this line with water if you wish to go fast, I have done just that. You do wish to beat those rascals, don’t you?’ The ‘Up Shot’ was that we arrived into the Marina several hundred yards ahead of our competitor. Worse for them was to come, as the whole Yacht club was aligned along the Frankton Road to witness their display of bad taste. That fact that we sailed so well should have never happened’ but everything that day was in our favour. Things like this only happen to you only once in a lifetime, but my God it was wonderful. Some days you are glad you got out of bed and really tasted life.

We joined the Yacht Club and what a wonderful social group they were. The Butels, Jardine’s both Dad and Andrew, Jeffrey’s, Bill Van der Vorden, Sugar Robinson, Frank Haworth, Strains, Frank and Jean Mee, Frank Wright, Tony and Vicky Hill to name a few. What they did do, was teach us how to sail a boat. I hope during this period I was able to put back into the club some of what I took from it.

Wally