Wally's tales

It was reported this week and to date, some thirty Finance Companies have gone ‘belly up’, and at the same time, loosing all their depositors investments. When I say investments we are not exactly talking about small amounts of money, these funds in total add up to many ‘Billions’ of dollars. Many of their ‘Investors’ could ill afford to see their hard earned savings disappear in a puff of blue smoke, many are now too old to start saving again. Unfortunately they were all steered to these Finance Companies where they were fleeced, by so called Investment Advisers. Their money was put at risk for the gain of only about 1.5% above what they would have received from a Trading Bank. There their money would have been protected by a Government Guarantee. What their adviser didn’t disclose when he was doing this service, was that his choice of Finance Company was influenced by him picking up a very substantial, ‘finders fee’. These advisers should also have known, that some of these companies where he was putting their clients hard earned cash was that some of the principals had already been involved in earlier failures.

And in all these many crashes did the all of principals lose out too? Not on your Nelly. On the surface it would seem not many, but they were all guilty of some very shonky lending which in turn caused so many failures. In many cases their money was removed and safely tucked away in Family Trusts, or perhaps moved over to their wife’s name. Of course this included their palatial home or mansion, don’t forget several high spec cars and other toys, such as the odd holiday house and a pleasure boat or two. It would also seem that in many cases the only money they were interested in protecting, was their own.

This squirreling away of funds behaviour has gone on, far too long. Laws should be passed long ago so that these hidden or untouchable funds be winkled out and recovered. No good a wife or Family Trust claiming that these were funds, are once removed, and unable to be touched. What we need is long overdue, that is laws passed so that these people need to prove exactly from where their money and funds came from, to purchase these ‘investments’. And how were these Homes, Cars, Cash, and Toys actually paid for? If the answer is not satisfactory, an order be made for recovery.

Another area were control has been weak, is the ‘Trust Deed’. A lot of fuss is made over the importance of this document, but in practice it seems that it is never acted on no matter what code of practice is written into it. It hasn’t happened to date but a lot of Trust Companies after being paid to act as a watch dog leave themselves open to claims for damages, perhaps this action may make they a little more diligent, something they haven’t been in the past.

I was thinking back to my initial visit to Queenstown recently. Then I was about 21 years of age, my father had arranged a holiday for me staying up there with the Strain Family who he was friendly with, they were also both in the Movie Theatre business. The Strain homestead was then situated on the shores of Lake Hayes. This would be in 1946. John their only son and I got along well, he soon introduced me to all the local hunting, legal, and some that wasn’t, but all available right from their front door. They farmed the western side of the Lake. While there, we made the occasional visits to Queenstown for stores. Queenstown then was still a small village in every respect, coming to life during the Holiday seasons, and during these periods it was bulging at the seams, but for only about three or four weeks. After this annual surge, it quickly reverted back to sleepy hollow. Apart from small increases in Easter, and School Holidays nothing changed. The ski industry was still in it’s infancy, apart from a few enthusiastic folk who lived close to hand, they had rigged basic rope tows, or did it all on foot.

Several factors contributed to the town being in this neglected state, there was no direct rail access, as well, all the roads then were very bad, potholed, and only gravel, none were sealed at that time. It could take a day to drive from Dunedin to Queenstown, or if you decided to travel by rail, this was also a day’s journey, and you had to finish the final twenty kilometres by the steamer ‘Earnslaw’ as there was no road access between Kingstown and Queenstown. I had enjoyed my initial visit so much I was anxious to have a repeat Holiday. So next Christmas and with companions Mick, and Herbie Ives, who were lucky enough to have relations in the area (A brother in law who was the captain of the Earnslaw, no less) we assembled all the camping gear required for a camping holiday, and set off for the Lake Wakatipu. Train to Dunedin, change for the train to the South, change train again to connect with the Kingston Flyer, which would then take us to the Southern edge of Wakatipu. Then finally by steamer. So on arrival at Kingstown we lugged all our gear to the wharf, boarding the Earnslaw, at last we would soon be safely ensconced on a camping site in the Queenstown Camping Ground. This was not to be, as we were turned away at the gate by the proprietor as potential trouble makers. He didn’t realise the danger he was in by being so belligerent. Herbie had been recently released from a three year stint in a German Prison camp. He was having a lot of trouble readjusting to civilian life again. As well, he was very anti authority, liable to lash out if he got upset, or ordered around. On this occasion he excepted the rebuff quietly and we decided to move on, only stopping as luck would have it, at the Butchers Shop in Rees Street to buy some steak for dinner. We were relating our appalling treatment by the local ‘Camp Commandant’, handed out to young Returned Soldiers. The Butcher, a Mr Davidson whose family are still resident in the area, suggested we camp in his ‘Butchers Paddock’ on the outskirts of the town, which is now the present site of the Terraces Hotel. He immediately restored our faith in the kindness of our fellow man. We enjoyed a wonderful holiday camped in his paddock where we enjoyed a constant stream of visitors to our nightly barbecue, completely free of the policing of ‘Hitler’s’ regime that prevailed at the Borough Camp

We had a wonderful holiday which was helped in no small way by fine weather. It was a step back into the past I can remember a visit to a dance at the Lower Shotover Hall where the only light was by kerosene lamps. I promised myself that I would return again one day, but never envisaged that it would be sooner rather than later and as a Bank Manager. When I arrived to live with my family, Mount Cook were busy developing the Air Port and a new Ski Field. Also some DC3’s were being pressed into service after being purchased from the Air Force as surplus as well the Air Port was under going the first of many developments including a sealed runway. Many streets then didn’t have footpaths or even a newspaper delivery. TV had just arrived due to the efforts of a local committee, and some luck that a signal was able to be picked up from one of the mountain peaks then bounced into town, much to the chagrin of the local Picture theatre operator who had declared that they would never manage to get a signal through the mountains. Even then Queenstown was regarded as a Party Town, some who came to work didn’t seem to realise that one big long party didn’t make a marriage work. Initially we had five immediate neighbours who suffered a marriage ‘breakup’. As a family the early days we enjoyed living in the Mountains, but I wouldn’t like to return back to it now as it has grown too big. Getting around by a motor vehicle is just about impossible as there is no longer anywhere left to park. Our stay lasted some thirty five years and I will relate more of this time in subsequent letters,

We have just completed two long and very complex Murder trials in Christchurch. The defence of both unfortunately, was to shift the blame over to the victims, who is of course unable to speak for themselves. Initially, I’ll take the case of the brutal murder of Sophie Elliott, Dunedin student, and the subsequent trial of the accused, Clayton Weatherston. For me, it was a disgusting spectacle from start to finish. His defence was centred around the fact, that to his mind that he was provoked, so his evidence and defence was by her action of spurning him brought about his action. This tactic should never have been allowed. His Defence Council, who are also Officers of the Court, really should have known better. Ethics today would seem to have flown out the window, and to win at any cost. Not only did go to the girls home, he knifed her in her bedroom some 216 times, then proceeded to desecrate her body by cutting off parts of her face and sexual organs. If that wasn’t bad enough, he then did his level best to portray himself as the victim, this with the aid of his council, pleading diminished responsibility all caused by her provocation. He did plead to be guilty of the crime of manslaughter, but my feels are that if had he had any backbone at all, he should pleaded guilty of murder. What seemed to be over looked was that he was the one on trial, not his victim. She is unable to plead for herself, and her memory is allowed to be subjected to a litany of innuendo in what she may have done, or not done, to her former boyfriend. Even her private Diary didn’t escape examination, and it was entered as evidence.

In the mating game, we are all sometimes rejected, or passed over for a multitude of reasons. It could be that one is guilty of eating garlic, onions, smelling of beer, or cigarettes. Sometimes we don’t measure up because of a small statue, personal hygiene, or what your perceived prospects and standards will be. When I was young, many folk seemed to have an aversion to plain soap and water, for me this was very ‘off putting’. Someone once said in selecting partner for life, take a good look at the mother as an apple never falls far from a tree. I once had a very beautiful girlfriend, perfect in every respect, but quickly moved on, once I heard how she spoke to her sister and mother. I could see myself receiving much the same treatment in the future, had I decided to become involved. Another danger to any relationship is the damage done well meaning friends, or relatives. You know the story, ‘You can do better’ just off the cuff remarks that sometimes have a very damaging effect on any relationship

In any trial the Jury have the last say, but is this a fair system? Once it may have been, but today it’s not so, by the way it has evolved. No longer it’s a cross section of people. Once the Jury lists are sent out, and it looks like along trial, no one is very interested serving and every excuse under the sun is trotted out to avoid being empanelled. This means that now you no longer get a cross section of a one’s fellow citizens and you are now left with those without the wit or wisdom to avoid service. Who can blame anyone trying to avoid service. The pay is no longer adequate. Perhaps it should be linked to the salary of politicians, then it would never be a problem. Another necessary adjustment is the availability of just getting there. Parking, or perhaps even valet parking could be looked at, even taxis supplied. The whole period of service is one of inconvenience and personal disruption, as the councils drone on and on. Who can blame them, when they are being paid by the hour.

The other trial was that of David Bain. I will never understand how he was found to be ‘Not Guilty’. The trial was remarkable as he never took the stand. During the whole trial he never opened his mouth, all his pleading was done by his lawyers. Remarkable.