Reminiscences of the quarterly booze-up

Ruapehu Bulletin, Volume 9, Issue 389, 4 June 1991, Page 7

Reminiscences of the quarterly booze-up

by

Ngaire

James

In my young days I thought of the King Countiy as a land of old stumps, footballers and no grog. On the latter account one had no fear of an insatiable thirst owing to the many dealers in the illicit sly grog business. It never ceased to amaze me that, as astute and crafty as was our local constable, rarely was a sly grogger up before the court. During my growing up years in Raetihi there was a particular breed of man - I'm not sure whether this type was indigenous to the King country - single (widowed or whatever) hard drinkers who worked in sawmills in the back country and lived in camps on the job. The end of a three month period saw these blokes drift into town, feeling filthy rich and prepared for the quarterly booze-up. There were some rare nameshow they were arrived at would be anybody's guess, but I only remember Snooker Bob, Dickey Rhubarb and Scotty. They each occupied a whare (or one roomed bach) which served as their townhouse accommodation, the mod cons consisting of an open fireplace and an outside tap. Scotty, who was a good friend of my fathers had his whare on a section next door to us. Mind you, no cork was ever pulled in our house but my father was very tolerant of these booze-ups as his Irish sense of humour allowed

him to see the funny side. When it was Scotty's turn to be the host he would bustle around cleaning the place out and during the afternoon, from nowhere,

the keg would appear. All chores completed he would call and borrow a few glasses for the occasion with that "as pleased as a rat in a cheese factory" look on his face. After all the fire was alight and the

keg installed - what more could one ask of life! As the evening progressed there was much laughter and singing but definitely no fights, always a happy party. We were always in bed

early, but according to my father, as the night wore on they fell out the door and fell in again. Scotty's place was out of bounds to us, but as children will, we made our observations by peering through the

fence. The next day saw Scotty sleeping it off in the long grass with a hat over his face. After a week or two of celebrat-

ing and now flat broke, the gang packed up and headed back to the bush to settle in for another three months.