Eric Fetzer — 86 years of Waimarino memories

Waimarino Bulletin, Volume 3, Issue 44, 15 April 1986, Page 6

Eric Fetzer — 86 years of Waimarino memories

Eric Fetzer was born 86 years ago not far from where the Waimarino golf course is now. His memories of his life and times are vivid and exciting and we are grateful that he gave us his time. Eric's father was a German who ran away from sea partly because he and the rest of the crew feared the boat was top-heavy and would capsize. All the crew cleared out except two and the ship turned turtle on its way home . .or that's his story..." His mother was a New Zealander and his father managed a 1400 acre crown lease held by Captain MacDonnell, which included the land now occupied by the golf course. They farmed sheep and cattle and had three teams of horses and drays to ship out their produce, which went via Pipiriki down the Wanganui River. This was the only access route until the completion of the main trunk railway line in 1909. Looking at the area now it is hard to believe that early this century there was bush more or less from Raetihi to Karioi and Erua, and then from Raurimu to Taumaru-

nui, with the exception of infrequent clearings. There was a road through the bush and stables here and there to provide for travellers' horses, such as Kelly's stables on the cemetery road corner. A daily coach came up from Pipiriki bringing passengers and mail. When they reached the top of the Waipuna Saddle they released a pigeon which brought news to Pike's boarding house, where the Raetihi butcher is now, of numbers of passengers and time of arrival. The isolation is difficult to comprehend today. The Fetzer family brought in a year's stores up the Wanganui River which they kept in a pataka — a storehouse on stilts with tin round the legs to keep out the rats. "You couldn't run to the store for a pound of bacon in those days," said Mr Fetzer. They were fairly selfsufficient anyway, growing their own vegetables, baking their own bread and making butter. "We kids helped our father to make the butter by turning the churn and we hung cream in a tree to make cheese. We killed our own pigs, beef and mutton and my mother cooked 121oaves of bread a week, and that was real bread — you can't call this stuff bread now, it's like leather. . ." Eric started school when he was six and often without boots, walked and sometimes rode the four miles to Ohakune. "Can't see kids walking that far now — still you can't stand in the same puddle ..."

He also went to Raetihi School for three months. "Mr Hird was the teacher, the original one who started the school in 1900, three or four years after Ohakune, even though Ohakune was settled first. He was strict — you got the cuts every morning for being late. "It seemed to be colder then and there used to be frost like toadstools along the middle of the road on the way to school — we used to often get three feet of snow, and we looked out at snow at Christmas two or three times. School "Ohakune School was near where the Turoa Skifield accommodation is now. Gilbert Small was head teacher and he got drunk now and again. He belonged to the Oddfellows and had parties at the school. "There were two rooms, one a classroom and the other he bached in. We often got to school on Monday to find cakes and things around. There was also a lady teacher and they taught in the same room — all standards. "The school shifted in 1909 to near the bowling green and then in 1914, the year I left, to its present location." In the days before TV and computer games children had to be resourceful and make their own fun and Eric went hunting when he was quite young. The thumb of his right hand is twisted and the fingers minus their tops as a result of a shooting accident with a .44 rifle. "My hand was round the barrel when it slipped and went off through my hand, and I also got powder burns to the chin. "I went to the doctor who got a flagon of iodine paint and poured it over my hand and bound it up." Eric said that there was only one doctor in Ohakune and he was a "bush doctor." "We weren't as particular in those days and things seemed to heal up quicker then. I remember a bushman who cut his leg badly and it wouldn't stop. They wrapped it up in calico flour bags, round and round until the bleeding was staunched. It took three days to pack him out to a doctor and when it was unwrapped it was near healed. "Out in the country I saw people set their own broken

leg — people think you are exaggerating but it's true — out in the wop wops." Eric left school in 1914 and went chopping the totara, matai, rimu and maire left on his family's farm. Later he worked on the farm, and for different farmers, though his father got paid not Eric. "All the kids did that then — I was yoking up a fourhorse team to a double furrow plough before I left school. We all did it — it was fun." He went contracting with a lorry in 1917 financed by his father, carting timber and firewood. Later he did agricultural contracting in the 1930s, ploughing, discing and bulldozing. "The first Labour government arranged for the stumping of hundreds of acres where the bush was cleared but huge stumps left.Later it was ploughed up for market gardens." He continued such work until he was 66 and then retired for "a bit of relaxation." Eric remembers the building of the main trunk line. "There were big camps at Hapuawhenua and Makatote when they built the viaducts. There were' tents everywhere and goats outside every tent for milk. "There was a factory opposite the Makatote Viaduct where they had a forge, steam hammers and cutting machines to make up the spans. "In 1909, just after the main trunk line opened, there were 80 or 90 businesses in Ohakune — bakers, tailors, bootmakers, grocers, tearooms, lawyers. Tearooms "Later, every Saturday night two special trains came in from Horopito and Pataka bringing in mill workers to go to the pictures. Y ou couldn't move on Ohakune Station or in the tearooms after the pictures." Eric has enjoyed his life and has no regrets. "I enjoyed my life doing what 1 was doing. I never had any idea I might be rich. I enjoyed getting up in the morning and seeing a new day. "My interpretation of richness is health — so long as you have that you're right. It's all the mighty dollar now ..."

This week we begin an occasional column called Waimarino Yesterdays in which some of the characters and personalities of the region share some of their memories. This week Eric Fetzer, born 86 years ago when giant forests covered the area, talks about his life.