South Island Trip

In 1938 Daddy had a desire to visit the South Island, and especially his younger sister and her family.  Sadly though he felt the Chev was not up to it.  It had worked hard and the roads hadn’t been the easiest, so he duly purchased a V8 and this time we would take a trailer for our tent and belongings.  So we left home on 23 December, and after visiting Daddy’s cousin on his farm at Alton went on to spend Christmas day with the families at Hutt and Petone.  The next day we boarded the ferry for the South Island.  We travelled through the Rai Valley to Franz Joseph Glacier, but when we arrived there the rain was bucketing down, so rather than unpacking everything in it we found a hut available and were glad to be in the dry.  Next morning was beautifully fine, and the views of the glacier magnificent.  We visited the little church - it had been built so the folk in the service looked right onto the glacier and would surely praise God for His beautiful world.  We were able to walk some way up it and experience the greatness of His creation – and the coldness; yet just a short distance from the ice delicate ferns and great trees were growing luxuriantly.  Leaving there, we went on to Maruia Springs and this time pitched our tent, then on to Dunedin.  There we were thrilled to see the place where Daddy’s Father had studied and gained his BA many years before.   

We also visited Aunty Violet’s son, Ivan and his family and Port Chalmers, and then back to Benhar where Aunt Edie and Uncle Jim lived.  He was manager of the pottery works there and had the responsibility of keeping the kilns at an even temperature when firing was being done.  They mainly made toilets but they also made smaller things to fit between them when firing.  That was a very anxious time as nothing was automatic at that time - the kilns were coal fired.  After several days there we went on to Christchurch and admired the rose gardens and the River Avon.  Then it was time to start on our homeward journey.  Before getting to Picton we decided to camp the night and have a leisurely journey next day.  When we came to Ward at dusk we pitched our tent and prepared to have a good sleep.  Alas, the wind got up and was really rough and when we could see in the morning we found we were beneath the power lines and the tent was lifting them.  I don’t think we had ever packed up so quickly before.  No wonder the place was known as Windy Ward!  We watched, fascinated but with some trepidation, as our car was fitted in a sling and slung on the boat, and then we were on our way home.