Early Northland. Read about my family and my home town of
Kaikohe, Northland, New Zealand
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Early Days in the Far North

Excerpt from an autobiography by my Uncle Raymond Fletcher

The year 1910 was in the middle of the gum digging rush to the North, so my parents moved to the gumlands of the Far North. It was travel by boat from Auckland.

Our first stop for a while was Parangarenga, but soon a longer stay at Waiharara, a little farther south. Here, I went to school, but my clearest memories there were of being frightened, on going to and from school and to the store, of the wild horses which used to roam the roads.....But we were to move again, and settled for the remainder of our stay in the North at a place called Waihopo, about 8 miles from Houhora which bay was a landing for ships to and from Auckland.

Our new home was 4 miles from the Waihopo School, to which we walked each day - it was quite a walk, along deep sand and narrow roads, which were often under water in places during the rainy season. So then we followed the ridges across gumlands. We lived on a half acre section (unfenced) with hills immediately at the back. The land at the front grew plenty of vegetables and flowers and we kept poultry. Creeks, lined on the banks with mangroves, abounded, and more often a means of transport with punts.

Grandma up North Our water supply was a covered wall just outside the door, the water drawn up by the same method as used in the days of the ancients. The house had a corrugated iron roof and melthoid covered walls. We children slept in bunks which were sacks stretched between rails. My older sister was in the bunk above me. There were five children at this time, Ada being born here.

During our approximately 5 years in Waihopo, we never fell victim to any complaint, but there was a smallpox scare in the country and we had to be vaccinated against this.

Out of school hours, we used to roam the countryside; homes of any kind were far and few between. Often we went out on the sand hills overlooking the Ninety Mile Beach. Many evenings were spent by candlelight scraping kauri gum, the gum dust also being bagged for the gum buyer.

Firewood was, of course, plentiful. Kauri logs large and small were everywhere, but a popular source of firing was peat, this burning almost as well as coal.

There were high hills everywhere and we used to climb these, dislodge great sandstone boulders and enjoy seeing them crashing and bounding down the slopes. On Guy Fawkes' night the hills around were lit up with great bonfires. We kids used to spend weeks cutting tea-tree for this event.

There were no inspectors, or officials of any kind, no doctors, no policemen, for at least 50 miles, and the nearest store was many miles away. Once a year a travelling film unit would arrive in the district. I think we got more fun out of the extent of its breakdowns than from the films. Another highlight was the (once only) arrival of Bishop Averill from Auckland. The whole district turned out for him.

We had no such thing as a stove, of course. It was camp ovens at best, over a kind of open fire. Mother not only baked all of our own bread, but also bread for others, especially single men, who came a long way for it. Sometimes when Dad would cook the porridge, it never missed being full of horrible lumps, and, as always, we ate it with watered down condensed milk. I remember a never ending job which was, whenever a piece of crockery was broken, we had to hammer it into fine particles as grit for the fowls.

A bullock wagon was often seen, and travelling other than by punts along the creeks, was by carts or pack horses.

Many small homes were built of flour sacks. These never leaked. The chimney was either corrugated iron or sods of earth.

My Grandpa Fletcher spent a year or so near us, in a sack shanty. These homes were very comfortable, as except for lots of rain, there was no cold wind or frosts.

My first few days away from home were when, as an 8 year old, Grandpa took me with him to Onehunga. We had to walk to the boat at Houhora wharf, but the boat was a day late so we walked back to the Houhora Hotel, about 10 miles altogether, the longest walk of my life.

My Grandpa and my Auntie Annie Fletcher were Salvationists. They took me with them to the Onehunga Salvation Army Hall. It was quite a noisy experience. With all their band instruments playing in that small hall, it was a noise I never forgot. Perhaps that is why, years later, I hated a school trip to an organ recital in the Auckland Town Hall. (I dodged most of them).

While at my Grandpa's home in Trafalgar Street, I saw five of my uncles, three of who were married. All five were soon to go to the First World War and one, Uncle Samuel, died at Gallipoli. Uncle Sam was fond of and kept greyhounds, and took me with him to the greyhound races at Otahuhu. Two greyhounds at a time, chased real hares on the course. It was quite exiting.

On the way back to Waihopo, bad weather turned the small boat right round, and nearly over, and even some seamen were sick.

After we'd lived a year in Waihopo, a young couple started a Sunday School in the school building. Later, the Sunday School was held in the private home of Mr. and Mrs. Porey. We hardly ever missed Sunday School, though it was another four miles to walk each way. Here, (I wasn't yet 8 years) my teacher gave me a bible - my first bible - and I was thrilled. It was a Church of England Sunday School, and we learned the catechism. I think I, at least, must have learned every bible story there was to be taught and we loved our teacher, Mrs. Porey. I managed to earn quite a number of Sunday School prizes. There were good books, some of which I read through twice and even three times. The first book I ever remember owning, and given to me by my parents, was called "Line Upon Line", a large book of all the popular Bible Stories. I think I memorised them all. Like most young boys I had my hero, and it may appear strange to some, but the boy, Jesus, of the Bible Stories was my hero, and the one I really worshipped and dreamed about.

We never had comics of any kind in the house. I did not know they existed until I was about ten years old. It was then that I started buying the "Boy Scout" papers and the "Boys Own Annual", which I kept buying for seven years.

My mother, long before I could remember much, taught me the following prayer;

"Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me, Bless Thy little lamb tonight.
Through the darkness be Thou near me, Keep me safe till morning light.
Amen."

Another we learned to say was;

"God bless Mother and Father,
sisters and brothers, friends and relatives,
and make me a good boy,
for Jesus' sake,
Amen."

Before I was seven, Mother added another prayer to our list, and so we prayed every night also;

"Gentle Jesus meek and mild, look upon a little child.
Pity my simplicity, Suffer me to come to Thee.
In the Kingdom of Thy Grace, give a little child a place."

Home was always a secure place, and in my childhood fancy, two assurances were always with me. They were that my parents had enough money, and that they were always praying for me.

I was not yet 8 years old when I could tell the time by the clock, had discovered the mystery of Santa Claus, and the facts of life.

I was the second eldest of seven children - five girls and two boys. Another child, a boy, was stillborn.

Continued on next page.....

Updated April 21, 2000