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Enga Washbourn Writes of Her Memories of the Onekaka Ironworks

In the early 1920's the Onekaka Ironworks were in full swing. We used to watch the chain of trucks passing up and down on the tramway that crossed the mudflat connecting the works with the wharf. A rake of trucks laden with lumpy bars of pig-iron crossed the mudflat, then ran along the 1200 feet of wharf to be loaded on to the waiting ship.

Coal was swung ashore in baskets to be stored in the bins ready to fill the trucks returning to the Ironworks.

Watching the furnace being tapped at night was always a spectacular sight which never failed to interest us.

Dazzling white hot molten iron ore poured out of the furnace into moulded pig-beds lighting up the tall dark building with an orange red light, which reflected on the damp shiny faces of the men as they worked in the heat.

Slag was drawn off at more frequent intervals, and poured in a brilliant luminous waterfall over a cliff into the valley below, turning into a hard glassy substance. This always reminded us of the fairy story about the glass mountain.

Iron ore and limestone were brought down from the quarries high up in the hills behind Onekaka in buckets hanging from a wire rope, rather like a chair-lift. The ropeway passed over tall standards sited on prominent spurs. Laden buckets swung their way down on one rope, while the empty ones returned up the hill on the other side.

A favourite walk was along the track that zig-zagged up the quarry, through beautiful bush, and past waterfalls, overhanging tree ferns, and banks covered in moss and kidney ferns. The entire Bay could be seen from the top, across to Farewell Spit, and the ocean beyond.

The iron smelting finally ceased for various reasons, and in due course the buildings and machinery were dismantled and sold. Now it is difficult to imagine that the scrubby waste that remains was ever covered with coke ovens, large buildings, a tall furnace and numerous huts and cottages – a veritable hive of industry.