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Journal of the Nelson and Marlborough Historical Societies, Volume 2, Issue 6, 1995
Book Reviews
Book Reviews
Pioneers of Aniseed Valley
In this small book Ruth Whittaker pieces together the history of the Roding or Aniseed Valley, to the east of the Barnicoat Range near Richmond. As a newcomer, who lived in the valley for seven years from 1984, she would have had a difficult task trying to sort out the interrelationship of the various settler families.
The valley, named from the former abundance of the native aniseed plant, is typical of many in the Nelson back country with steep sided hills, mantled by thin infertile soils, and narrow stony river flats. Initially the valley was taken up by farming families such as Busch and Stratford who purchased land from the Nelson Provincial Government. These early families were joined by others, notably the Johnston and Murcott families and two largely absentee owners, Thomas Hacket and Edward Carthew. Ruth Whittaker describes the pioneering life endured by these families and the efforts made to clear and farm the land, construct roads and educate the children of the valley.
As well as farming, there were other opportunities for the settlers to improve their lot, such as sawmilling, tanning using beech bark, and mining. However, the search for copper and chromite in the nearby Mineral Belt cost more money than was ever got out of the ground. Nevertheless the prospecting and construction of tracks to the various mines, as well as mining itself, provided employment, albeit only temporary, for many of the residents in the valley. Pioneers of Aniseed Valley also documents the many social changes that have occurred. The decline of pastoral farming, because of poor soils and the invasion of gorse, and its replacement by plantations of Pinus radiata being the most obvious. In addition the construction of the Roding dam, an important component in Nelson's water supply, effectively closed the upper valley, allowing many of the hills burnt for farming or mining to regenerate into native forest. The final, and continuing, phase of settlement was the subdivision of the lower valley into life-style blocks. Many of the inhabitants of Aniseed Valley now derive their income from working in Richmond or Nelson.
The book would have been improved by the addition of a map of the whole valley and an index. Nevertheless it more than adequately records the settlement of one of the many valleys in the Nelson hinterland, as well as providing an example of the major social changes in country life that have occurred since the bush was cleared at the onset of European settlement.
Mike Johnston
The Cobb – The History of The Cobb River Hydro-Electric Power Scheme
Athol Blair's history of the Cobb must be the most comprehensive book ever written about a New Zealand power scheme. It is also the history of an important facet of Nelson's development. Considering the Cobb's small size, a mere 32 MW, when compared to the schemes more recently completed in New Zealand it is at first glance surprising that nearly 500 pages could be written about it. What makes the Cobb scheme so intriguing is its complexity, taking 20 years to build, and the reasons why it was constructed in the first place.
The scheme was built because of the presence of asbestos in the maze of mountains west of Mt Arthur. Combining materials and the energy that could be harnessed from the abundant rivers draining the mountains was Walter Hume, a remarkably inventive Australian. Hume, the inventor of the spun concrete pipe, conceived the idea of using Cobb power, the asbestos deposits in the Upper Takaka River that were being promoted by another remarkable man, Henry Chaffey, and cement from Tarakohe. Not envisaging that he would need all of the power generated from the Cobb River, Hume proposed to sell the surplus to consumers in the Nelson region, who were then being serviced by small local power stations.
In 1935 the government granted a license to the Hume Pipe Company (Australia) Ltd and the Cobb scheme was born. Its growth to maturity was to be long and difficult. One condition of the licence to Humes was that power be supplied to consumers in the Golden Bay and Waimea electric power boards within two years. This soon proved to be a highly optimistic and hopelessly unachievable objective. It was 1944 before Cobb began producing power and it took another eleven years after that for the scheme to reach its maximum output, on completion of a dam in the headwaters of the river. It is this long unrelenting struggle to bring power to the consumers of Nelson which makes the Cobb story so intriguing and which is so graphically portrayed by Athol Blair.
Firstly there were the sheer physical obstacles to overcome. Most of the year the upper Cobb River meanders placidly through a wide open U-shaped valley, carved by a long disappeared glacier. However on breeching the moraine, which temporarily held back a natural lake following the melting of the ice, the river descends through a narrow tortuous gorge to join the Takaka River, dropping almost 600m vertically in the process. The Cobb scheme was based on controlling this drop and converting the huge amount of energy involved into electricity.
The scheme envisaged a concrete dam at the start of the gorge and a tunnel through the mountains to a penstock that plunged down the precipitous slopes to a powerhouse at the junction of the Cobb and Takaka rivers. With the nearest access route, the Upper Takaka-Tableland park track, several kilometres to the east, the power builders had first to gain access up the rugged Takaka River to the power station site, which proved to be a major undertaking in its own right.
From here the difficulties multiplied at an alarming rate. When Humes were not able to complete their goal, the New Zealand government took over the scheme in 1940. As the war situation worsened, labour and materials became increasingly hard to obtain. Although Kiwi ingenuity helped offset some of these setbacks, the scheme lingered and power supplies in Nelson and Marlborough were becoming critical.
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Nevertheless work continued, frequently halted by heavy rainfall and subsequent floods, snow and the intense cold that permeated the sunless valleys in winter. Disappointments continued, the dam site was belatedly found to be unsuitable for a concrete dam (a lesson forgotten years later at Clyde) and an earth dam was constructed. This was then the largest of its type in New Zealand and the engineers were at the cutting edge in determining the parameters for its design. The tunnel and penstocks were also to provide many difficulties and anxieties for both engineers and workers.
Although prior to commissioning of the dam the Cobb was able to generate some power, it was insufficient to meet peak loads. The race to get the dam finished in time to meet predicted demand is an exciting one that becomes a common theme throughout the book. To boost output a number of small glacial lakes were dammed and the water released at critical times. These efforts seem puny until one realises that, with the high head of the scheme, an apparently infinitesimal amount of water could be converted into a worthwhile quantity of power. The commissioning of the dam in 1954, and the rebuilding of the powerhouse soon after, meant that the scheme could generate its planned 32 MW.
This book is not just about engineering, for it gives a full account of the men and women who lived in the Cobb. There were, over the years, a large number of people involved and the excellent index is a boon for readers. It is amazing how many familiar names keep appearing throughout the book. There is also a generous use of photographs which graphically show the scheme in all its stages, along with details of the camps and the hardships faced by all who worked on the scheme. There is one spectacular sequence of photographs of a flood in 1954 which nearly overtopped the partly built earth dam.
It is a book well worth reading and readers will probably find that once they start turning the pages they will find it difficult to put down. The Cobb scheme marked the change from shovel and wheelbarrow to bulldozer, and it had the last of the primitive construction camps that gave way to the townships now associated with major civil projects. Considering how environmentally sensitive the Cobb Valley is, it is perhaps as well that bulldozers were then not as common as they are today. The Cobb scheme, with its powerhouse nestled deep in the valley and the reinstated glacial lake behind its earth dam, blends into the northwest Nelson mountains. Athol Blair is to be congratulated for documenting how it came about.
Mike Johnston
Gold in a Tin Dish
New Zealand's goldmining history has long been fertile ground for both academic and commercial publications, but in the past this interest has been centred on the more spectacular and richer fields of Otago, the West Coast and Coromandel, while the smaller but nevertheless historically interesting northern South Island fields have been substantially ignored. This as it turns out may have been fortunate, because in Mike Johnston the milling history of the Marlborough and Nelson region has at last a chronicler of considerable skill and qualifications whose work is surely definitive.
Volume Two completes this detailed and well written account of the Marlborough goldfields and covers the Northbank (Wairau River), Queen Charlotte Sound (Golden Point and Cape Jackson), Mahakipawa and Waikakaho. It encompasses all the methods used in mining the alluvial and reef gold from the 1860s through to the Depression era of the 1930s. Mike has also included the antimony mining at Endeavour Inlet and the exploitation of the Picton Coalfield.
As with Volume One (which concentrates on the Wakamarina goldfield) the author has produced a very detailed and thorough but eminently readable account, which will undoubtedly stand as the authoritative reference work on the subject. Mike Johnston's background as a geologist and his narrative skill ensure that the reader has a clear perspective on the geological and technical aspects of the mining. It is, however, testament to his ability as an historian that this book also tells so much about the social aspects of the mining life. For example the chapter on Cullensville vividly portrays the rise of this thriving if ephemeral little town of up to 600 people and the infrastructure of stores, pubs and other services thrown up to cater for and cash in on the needs of the miners and their families. People crowd the pages of this history; it details the names and stories of the ever optimistic investors and entrepreneurs, the hard grafting miners, the adventurers, opportunists and rogues all seeking their share of the all too often unrealised riches.
Volume Two is well illustrated, with clear location maps, contemporary plans and diagrams and a liberal selection of historical and geological photographs gleaned from a wide range of sources. It is also very clearly referenced, with annotations detailed for each chapter at the back of the book. For those interested in statistics, annual gold returns from the Marlborough fields are listed in an appendix.
The book is well designed with a clear layout. Nikau Press are to be congratulated on their publishing of this important addition to the history of the region.
Gold in a Tin Dish, Volume Two, along with its companion Volume One, is essential for anyone with an interest in the history of our area or goldmining in New Zealand. Although as with the previous volume it is available only in hardback, at a price of $65.95, it needs to be borne in mind that at 456 pages it is a substantial book, and that the two volumes represent one of the most detailed regional New Zealand mining histories written and provide the major reference work on the Marlborough Goldfields.
Mike Johnston has now turned his attention to the Nelson goldfields and we can look forward to a further definitive history in a few years time.
Steve Bagley
The Beauty of your house – The Nelson Catholic Parish 1844–1994
Although described as a history that must be factually correct and comprehensive, it is more a celebration of 150 years of the Catholic Church in Nelson. This does not mean to say it has no value to historians, for it contains a good summary of the church and those associated with it.
As well as the priests and sisters, there are details of many of Nelson's Catholic families, both those of high standing in the wider community and the more humble. Later chapters give details of the wide ranging activities of the church, such as education and the various schools it ran. In addition there are contributions by a number of people, mostly concerning their families. There is also an excellent account of Antoine Garin, that humble and devoted man who made a huge impact on both the church and the Nelson region from 1850 to 1889. It was under his guidance that the present St Mary's church was built, following a fire in 1881 that partly destroyed the original building. However the two pages devoted to the digging up and opening of his coffin is ghoulish and appears to serve no useful purpose.
There are a number of criticisms, some major, others minor. There is no index and with time this will prove an increasing hindrance for readers and researchers. Compiling a worthwhile index is a tedious job and in this case would have been a large, and perhaps costly exercise, considering the great many names mentioned.
Nevertheless an index would have been a valuable addition. Another point of serious concern is the reasons given for the difficulties at the Stoke Orphanage at the turn of the century. This is attributed to increasing antagonism between Catholic and Protestant in the Nelson community. While it is understandable that a book of this type should not dwell on the less memorable incidents, there is no excuse for refusing to acknowledge the real reason and perpetuating an untruth. It would have been better, and also acceptable, to simply have stated that due to difficulties the management of the orphanage changed. There are a number of other irritating aspects, such as the hanging of the Maungatapu murderers being described as the last public execution in New Zealand. Newspaper columns are reproduced, but a number have no date or even their source.
Nevertheless those involved in its writing and compilation have produced a worthwhile publication available at minimal charge. It also contains a number of photographs that would have otherwise remained largely unknown. While it may not be of the same value to historians as H.F. Ault's church histories, the efforts of Anthony Harris and his co-authors will be much appreciated by those seeking information on the Catholic Church in Nelson.
Mike Johnston
Response to a vision the first hundred years of the Nelson School of Music
"The Nelson School of Music is unique in New Zealand's musical history". This opening sentence on the flap of the dust jacket of this book epitomizes the scope of this comprehensive survey not only of the School of Music but also the important part that music played in the cultural life of Nelson from the arrival of the early settlers right up to the present day.
The first two chapters deal with organized musical endeavour in the infant settlement, culminating in the formation of the Nelson Harmonic Society in 1860. 1893 was a crucial year in the history of music in Nelson, for it marked the arrival from Germany of Michael Balling who had been appointed conductor of the Harmonic Society. Balling made an indelible impact on Nelson's musical life and Mrs Tunnicliff has fittingly dedicated her book to his memory. Balling became a firm friend of J.H. Cock, an influential businessman and shipping agent. It was their mutual interest in mountaineering that led them both on an expedition to Mount Cook and, while weather-bound in a mountain hut, Balling elaborated to Cock his idea of establishing a school of music based on a smaller version of a German conservatorium. The plan appealed to Cock who arranged a public meeting upon their return to Nelson. The proposal was enthusiastically accepted by the audience and so was born the Nelson School of Music. In 1896 Balling returned to Europe, but the impetus which he had initiated led J.H. Cock and EG. Gibbs, Headmaster of Boys' Central School, with financial backing from Thomas Cawthron, to embark upon the construction of a building which would provide a concert chamber as well as teaching rooms. The building was opened in 1901 with Julius B. Lemmer as Principal. Lemmer's contribution is noteworthy for he remained Principal for 45 years, embracing a period during which the School felt the effect of financial stringencies caused by two World Wars and an economic depression.
A substantial bequest by Beatrice Kidson in 1961 enabled the School to expand its teaching facilities, but it was ten years before the new block, named the Beatrice Kidson Block, was opened.
One cannot but admire the depth of research which Mrs Tunnicliff has undertaken in writing this history. The references quoted at the conclusion of each chapter demonstrate the time that she has devoted in preparing a comprehensive yet very readable account of the history of this unique institution. Biographical notes covering principals, teachers and administrators are included as an appendix, together with a bibliography and a comprehensive index. Numerous illustrations and portraits enhance the text.
This book is the work of a dedicated historian.
John Savage