Hunting and pidgin in Karioi Forest

Ruapehu Bulletin, Volume 12, Issue 545, 19 July 1994, Page 10

Hunting and pidgin in Karioi Forest

By Gerry Cranston, an ex-Ohakune resident While working in the Forestry Department at Karioi we had a telephone system that took a.little while to get used to. In the houses the phones were for internal use only so if someone wanted to ring out they had to contact me at the office. Once a week on Mondays meat orders were rung through to me and I relayed the orders on to the butcher at Ohakune who would send their orders out on the bus next day. With the local camp dwellers this was not a problem, but with the arrival of some displaced persons from foreign countries, mainly Bulgarians and Greeks, it became quite a charade, because they did not yet speak English well. These 'DPs' were under contract to work two years in the forestry. Most of them soon adapted to our conditions and, as the children quickly learnt English and spoke for their parents, language barriers were only temporary. One woman who I most clearly remember was a Mrs Moratis who was unable to explain herself on the phone and would come over to the office to tell me what she wanted. When stuck for words she would pat her bottom and say baa, which meant she wanted a leg of mutton. If she wanted chops she would pat her rib-cage still saying baa. She had various other signs for other meats. My wife Patricia soon made me aware that by

helping these people in such a manner, I was fast developing a habit of speaking in pidgin English, a habit which I found quite difficult to correct. The displaced persons must have been grateful, as they would do little things for my family whenever possible. If Patricia happened to be away at lunch-time Mrs Moratis would supply me with lunch. She would hurry over to our home, one minute after my arrival, with it all set out nicely on a large tray. As I thanked her she would bow and chatter away but it was mostly gibberish to me. Eating anything Although I have a reputation of being able to enjoy and eat anything, I found it most difficult to eat her offerings. There were always three courses as she would point out to me. First raw fish finely cut up with some sort of sour vinegar taste. Second a curry of some sort made with I know not what. Third, a pasta of the most unusual taste, covered with sugar. To drink was a large glass of liquor which tasted to me like refined mineral turpentine with a drop of kerosene thrown in. It tasted absolutely vile, but I did quickly learn that by sipping it with each mouthful it killed the taste of the raw fish etc and gaye me quite a warm glow. She allowed me roughly 1 0 minutes to eat all of this and would then return to pick up the tray. I . would of course say 'delicimo' or some such word,

her face would light up with sheer delight. Mrs Moratis still kept in touch with us until quite recently, but I fear she is now no longer. Deer crossing One morning in the Karioi Forest office, I was quietly getting the day underway when a very excited passer-by called in and told me there were two deer grazing on the fire-break at the Tangiwai railway crossing. Ernie Howat was the boss at Karioi at the time and as he hadn't yet arrived at the office I rang him. He answered "coming now, be ready to come with me". Old Frank Roberts was sharpening pruning saws nearby in an old shed so I called him over to keep an eye on the office and when Ernie arrived a minute later, away we went. The deer were still there when we arrived. We worked closer to them down inside the rows of pine trees, where Ernie shot and killed a well-grown hind. The other hind that I was after spooked at the shot and ran into the trees and away. After gutting the hind we were back at the office in about 20 minutes. We skinned it and hung it up under the trees behind the work-shop overnight and in the next day or two everybody just helped themselves to the free meat. That was roughly 40 years ago and I still always look along that firebreak, which is now virtually grown over, on my numerous trips to Ohakune, but I have never seen another deer in the vicinity.

When writing hunting and fishing stories, we nearly always seem to remember and relate the successfiil expeditions, but no hunter has always met with success. But in my day shooting in the Karioi Forest was 'shooting deluxe'. I had many a friend who asked permission for a block to shoot, especially during the 'roar'. Rude jolt On one of our many hunting tripsr with Alan Woodward driving the forestry Ford pick-up truck home down the fire-break just after dark, we were rudely jolted into action. We suddenly spotted in the headlights a large deer crossing the fire-break from right to left 50 yards in front of us, dazzled in the glare of the headlights. In the next second or two as Alan slowed, it leapt on to the bonnet of the pick-up smashing the mudguard down and making a mighty crash. My army training must have then come to my aid, I yelled out to Alan to stay where he was. I had been nursing my .303 rifle between my knees and on impact I was able to work a round up the spout, open the door and throw myself down on the ground to try and get the deer silhouetted against the night sky before it re-entered the forest. With a comparatively lucky shot I was able to bring the stag down. After we had straightened out the mudguard, we cut off some meat and limped home - an unusual end to what could have been an unsuccessful trip.