1938
On New Year’s Day, 1938, 10 young people of the Puketaha district planned a day at the beach. Alas, on that morning they all woke to no power – someone on their way home from a party the night before had run into a power pole so milking had to be done by hand. Fortunately for me, our benzine engine was still in place and after a change of belts and a tin of petrol our milking got underway, but the others didn’t have such luck. However, the next day was also fine and free and we set off joyfully in the truck that one of the boys drove. We had to make an early start as we all had to be home for the evening milking. We visited the Okete Falls and then spent the rest of the day in the water. We had a lovely day. Dad did not swim – I don’t remember whether he even got in the water, but oh dear – I got sunburnt and had blistered shoulders for some time after. Three weeks later was my 21st birthday and my Father had strung lights across the lawn and we had fun and games out there. Dad was invited to join us. That’s when it all began.
Later in the year the men had built a big bonfire in Siberia, and acquired a piece of land that had been a place of rubbish and gorse and had burnt at the time of the peat fires, and Williamson Bros had bought it so that it would not be a danger again. So, for 5th November we took our supper and fireworks and a number of friends and had our Guy Fawkes fun there. Rewa was 7 years old, and deciding to go back to the car (out on the roadside) set off with a candle in her hand. Dad must have been watching her as all of a sudden he sprinted off to the other side of the paddock. The light had disappeared and there was a big drain between the paddock and the road. Fortunately there was a ledge in the drain and she had landed on that and not in the water, but she was badly frightened and was glad to be rescued.
The first time I went out with Dad was to a church social at Rototuna, on the back of his motorbike. Whether he didn’t think it was an appropriate way to ask me to travel, or perhaps I wasn’t a very comfortable passenger I do not know, but he went out and bought himself a car – a two seater Durant, Black Beauty we called it, and although it was not by any means new, it never let us down, and willingly took us anywhere we wanted to go until after we were married and it was replaced by a Whippet. It went on to be the driving power for the hay elevator that Dad and Mr. Brewster built.
One weekend Dad took me to Te Uku to meet his sister and brother-in-law and at night we went down to the sea that bordered their farm to try and catch flounder. We didn’t see any fish, but I did the floundering in the muddy bottom and indeed walked out of my gumboots. Gentleman that he was, he didn’t even laugh, but helped me regain them. He confessed much later that he was scared to laugh in case I took offence. The next season he moved to another farm, next door really, and later became a regular visitor for Sunday dinner. That year our potato crop had all got the blight and I don’t think it even entered our parents’ heads to buy them. No, there were plenty of swedes down the paddock, grown for the cows, which made a good substitute for the table. However, Dad didn’t appreciate them - not that he refused to eat them, but he started bringing us enough potatoes for the meal each week.