Lyttelton

Korero (AEWS), Volume 3, Issue 3, 12 March 1945, Page 3

Lyttelton

Except possibly for its drabness, a mark of its age and nature, Lyttelton, main port of the South Island and third port of New Zealand, presents nothing extraordinary. The port itself is a natural inlet on the northwestern side of Banks Peninsula, that hill-fringed knob of land thrusting into the South Pacific from the edge of the 3,000,000 acres of the Canterbury Plains. It has an inner harbour at Erskine Bay, about half-way along the northern side of the inlet ; and behind the harbour, where the slopes of the hills are less steep than in the neighbouring bays, is the town, wider east and west across the foot of the hills than deeper from south to north towards the summit. The port is not a difficult one for mariners. Just inside the mile-wide entrance the depth at low water is seven fathoms, or 42 ft. It gradually lessens to 5 fathoms opposite Gollan’s Bay, nearer the heads than Lyttelton, and from there a dredged channel leads to the inner harbour. This channel, 400 ft. wide, is 34 ft. deep at low water and 40 ft. at any high water. Perhaps an idea of what these figures mean in terms of shipping that can use the port may be gained from the dimensions of two British warships which visited Lyttelton before the war. One, drawing 31 ft. was 794 ft. long with a displacement of 32,700 tons, and the other, drawing 29 ft., was 590 ft. long with a displacement of 20,000 tons. The draught of cargo and passenger vessels using the port ranged up to 32 ft. 4 in. Since the war vessels among the twenty largest in the world have visited Lyttelton. The inner harbour, where the ships tie up, is an area of 106 acres of water enclosed, except for an entrance 500 ft.

wide, by two breakwaters. Here, jetties, and breastwork wharves with more than 12,000 ft. of berthage provide space for thirteen overseas vessels with intercolonial and coastal shipping as well. Unlike the two larger North Island ports, Auckland and Wellington, Lyttelton has no cargo-sorting sheds on its wharves, and as the port is at present there is no room for them. It has wool and grain stores and a cool store where outward consignments of farm products can await shipment, but there are no sheds where the inward cargo can be sorted and lifted by the consignees. All the main jetties carry railway-lines, and cargo is transferred direct from truck to ship and ship to truck. The discharged cargo is sorted in sheds in Christchurch, seven miles beyond the hills. And that is why it is sometimes said that these yards mark the western extremity of the port. That is partly why, too, the future of the port has for many years been a subject of controversy, why those interested have divided themselves into groups supporting schemes for a new port more accessible from Christchurch and for a road under the hills to Lyttelton. And perhaps this may be partly why the township bears the marks of age so plainly. The railway-line which connects Lyttelton through the tunnel under the Port Hills with Christchurch first line in New Zealand incidentally-—-is an electric one. But steam-engines shunt the trucks in the Lyttelton yards and push and pull them to and from the wharves. And as the noises in the port, apart from the rumour of working cranes and grabs and the clipped, half-throttled bleat of the gulls, are chiefly the sounds of engines puffing and whistling, the whine of wheels on rails, and the crash of shunted trucks,

so the smell of the port is chiefly the smell of engine smoke, coal smoke combined at times with smoke from ships in the harbour. An easterly breeze carries the smoke to the western hills, where it sometimes obscures the houses for a time before it is swept upward and dispersed ; a light southerly brings it more to the middle of the town. But when the nights are calm the early mornings may show a bank of smoke lying like fog over the port just below the topmost fringe of houses. It disappears, of course, when a breeze gets up. But it is years of smoke which has stained the corrugated iron, the brick, and the wood, and deepened the lines of age in the town. Yet if the women sometimes complain it is hard to keep their curtains clean and to get their washing white, minor disadvantages like these are really to many of them of little account. They have lived in the port all their lives and their affection for it is the kind that grows from intimacy. * The early settlers began the work of establishing Lyttelton on its present site before there was any development to speak of on the other side of the hills which divide the port from the Canterbury Plains. For many years now the limitations of access to the port and of the methods which have been necessary for handling inward freights have been considered by the people of Christchurch and, indeed, of other parts of the South Island as an obstacle to the Island’s development. Lyttelton is not only the port of entry for imports for Christchurch and other parts of the Canterbury Province. It handles the greater proportion of farm produce sent to the North Island. And, in addition, more than £3,600,000 worth of wool, meat, butter, and cheese left there every year before the war for markets overseas. In the early days of settlement, the South Island got a flying start in agriculture. In the eastern,” southern, and northern parts were large fertile plains, rolling downs, and hills without the forests which in a large part of the North Island had to be cleared before the land could be used by the farmer. There have been nearly one hundred years of

development since then, and now the land you look down upon from the top of the hills above Lyttelton, the Canterbury Plains extending one hundred and fifty miles north and south and forty miles inland from the sea, is the principal crop-growing area in the country. It produces more than 70 per cent, oi New Zealand’s wheat, 53 per cent, of the oats threshed, 65 per cent, of the barley yield, 73 per cent, of pulse crops, and the bulk of the commercial potato crop. It grows also some of the finer wools, raises fat lambs for the frozen-meat industry, and produces some butter and cheese. Before the war, Lyttelton’s annual wool exports averaged 93,431 bales, valued at £1,712,178. Her meat. exports averaged 581,138 cwt., -worth £1,611,427; her butter exports 76,065 boxes, worth £244,234 ; and her cheese exports 17,160 crates, worth £74,026. In 1939, the latest year for which figures are available, 1,275 ships called at Lyttelton to discharge imported goods and lift these exports. They had a tonnage of 2,198,480, which was 14-4 per cent, of the total tonnage calling at Dominion ports. The manifest tonnage of cargo handled in Lyttelton was 731,189, or 8-8 per cent, of the New Zealand total. Judged by any of these standards, the number and tonnage of the shipping visiting the port and the tonnage of cargo handled over the wharves, Lyttelton was then the third port of New Zealand. For a long time the people most active in the campaign to improve access to the sea from the plains divided themselves into two main groups—those whose remedy was to build a new port on the Christchurch side of the bills (and there were subdivisions of this group), and those who wanted a road under the hills to Lyttelton. The supporters of this latter plan seem to have won the day, for, though Cabinet has not yet given its' approval, the Public Works Department is now preparing preliminary plans for the tunnel and working out the route of the proposed road. What this work will cost is not yet known, but a preliminary estimate is about £750,000. The future of the port after the tunnel road is through is a subject in which many people show a lively interest.

Perhaps the most commonly expressed opinion is that the inner harbour would have to be extended to the east to make room for additional facilities which .improved access would require, a scheme which would probably cost at least £2,000,000. That is probably looking well into the future, but it’s a subject on which Lyttelton people, and many other South-Islanders, are always ready to express an opinion. * The grain and produce, meat, wool, butter and cheese which pass over the Lyttelton waterfront are the life-blood of the town, as well as of the port. Remove the port and there would be little justification for the town’s continued existence. Lyttelton, by any standards, is a small place : the population of the borough is 3,200, of the borough and environs 4,500 ; and it’s probably true that at least one member of most families gets his living directly or indirectly from the waterfront. Not that Lyttelton couldn’t absorb all

the men of every family. It could, if more of them were manual workers. But, as things are, many of the women and men white-collar workers have to go off to Christchurch, and Lyttelton imports the extra manual workers required to satisfy the demand. About 55 per cent, of the 670 members of the Waterside Workers’ Union, the largest single group of workers, live outside the port, 75 per cent, of the 100 permanent railway workers, two-thirds of the no men who work in Anderson’s foundry, the largest 1 private industry. This shortage of local work for women has encouraged one Christchurch firm of shoe-manufacturers to set up a new , factory in Lyttelton. Labour is short in the cities now, and this firm has found that by taking its factory to the port it can be assured of workers, because they save the amount of their daily train fares to and from the city. Other manufacturers are also adopting a policy of decentralization, though they have not

built their new factories in Lyttelton. Generally they find that, as well as having their supply of labour assured, the extra freight costs incurred are more than balanced by the low cost of land and rates.

The Lyttelton waterfront has been working under the bureau system of engaging labour for nine years now. It was the first port in New Zealand to adopt the system. “ And,” the bureau manager said, “ the men wouldn’t like to go back to the old way again.” Under the old system, foremen of the various shipping companies stood on a small platform or block with the men awaiting employment before them and nominated those they required to work their own ships. The trouble with this “ auction block ” system, as it was called, was that each company tended to give preference to a certain group of men. It engaged the same men first all the time and employed others only when the preferred group were all at work. This meant very often the available work on the waterfront was not evenly shared ; and that’s what the bureau system tries to avoid.

The system was introduced to equalize hours —not wages. To equalize wages would be practically impossible, since there are twenty-four different kinds of work on the waterfront, paid for at varying rates. The members of the union nominate the classes of work they are willing to do. They may nominate only one or two of the twenty-four kinds or most of them ; and only on the kinds of work they nominate are they employed. The shipping companies tell the bureau the number of men required for each of their ships arriving in the port, and the bureau allocates them so that, as far as possible, the hours of work over a four-weekly period are equal. When there is a shortage of labour and there are overseas ships, particularly food ships, waiting, gangs of men may be transferred direct from one ship to another. And. it is when this happens that it is hardest to keep the hours of all the men on approximately the same level. But the bureau seems to manage it all right.

” A ” Grade union members, physically fit men who can do most kinds of work on the waterfront, are guaranteed

a wage of Z 3 6s. a week. Slack times are perhaps not as frequent as they were before the war, but they still occur, as they did in Lyttelton just after Christmas, when wages had to be made up to the guaranteed minimum. Though managed separately, the bureau is responsible to the Waterfront Controller, who is also the final authority in local waterfront disputes. The watersiders have a disputes committee of their own which first tries to settle any differences which may arise with the employers. If it is not successful, the dispute goes on to the Waterfront Controller. The system seems to work all right, for in the last ten years not more than three disputes on the Lyttelton waterfront have ended in stoppages of work.

The union also has its own disciplinary committee, which beside having power to deal with any members who break union rules and regulations, is doing what it can to put down pillaging of cargo, There is at least one case on record where a man, fined for this offence, was expelled from the union.

Outside the Waterside Workers’ Union, the largest groups of workers are with the Railways Department, the Borough Council, the Harbour Board, and Anderson’s foundry, down by the tunnel mouth. The foundry employs no men, but the manager said he could use 150 if he could get them. He thought, however, his staff was likely to be reduced rather than expanded. Eighteen of his skilled tradesmen were due to enter the Army with the call-up of men from' industry for the replacement scheme, and if they went he said he’d have to pay off about 40 men and stop work on certain jobs. He was not complaining about it; only giving an instance of some of the wartime difficulties facing manufacturers.

This factory has been working fifty hours a week for the last eighteen months. In the early days of the war it tried up to one hundred hours, but found it couldn’t work more than fifty and at the same time keep the accident and sickness rate at a reasonable level. Fifty hours’ work means fifty-five hours’ pay, which is 374 per cent, above the award rate. “ And,” said the manager, “ the lowerpaid workers need it these days to live.”

However that may be, Lyttelton has not lagged behind in national savings. At the end of November last, when the latest figures were taken out, it had 769 accounts, equal to approximately onesixth of the population. The total deposits were £20,103 and the value of bonds sold £13,933, a total average per head of population of £9 os. rod. “ This,” the postmaster said, “ compares favourably with most other places.” The figures do not, of course, include ordinary Post

Office Savings-bank accounts, which, on the whole, are more popular because money can be withdrawn from them at will.

The early evening dimness in Lyttelton may catch the visitor unawares. It is not that it descends upon the port suddenly ; rather it does come slowly, so slowly that by a stranger in the town its approach may not be noticed. Before half past five on any February day there are shadows on the bluff above the oiltanks and below all the ridges of the western hills. They move down on the town almost imperceptibly, until the houses and trees have become “ the dull drowsy figures of a strange mystery.”

It is only in Lyttelton that the night has come. The sky is not dark. The sun is still on the tops of the eastern hills and in the bays on the south side of the inlet.

People who live in Diamond Harbour, on the south side opposite Lyttelton, say the port loses two hours of sunshine a day. One of them tells a story about the Diamond Harbour launch sailing out of bright sunshine just outside the breakwaters. “ When we landed in the

port five minutes later,” he says, “ the street lights were on.” That may be an exaggeration ; but it is true that you can leave Lyttelton by train when the night has begun and arrive in Christchurch seventeen minutes later in sunshine. It’s like making a curious little journey back in time. Once, at this hour every day, a man rode round the port on horseback and with a long pole lit the street gas-lamps. He rode round again at daybreak to put them out. That was a long time ago ; perhaps twenty-five years or more. And when the Borough Council lit the streets with electricity, and the houses too, it made one of thq comparatively few changes which have had any significant

effect on the life of the port. Changes are, of course, occurring all the time : streets are tar-sealed, an occasional new house is built, one or two of the old buildings are reconstructed, electric cranes installed on the wharves. But most of the changes are superficial : they make no deep mark on the face of the town. Neither do they alter the essential sounds and smells of the port nor the way of living of the people.

Some would like to see a large part of Lyttelton reconstructed. Most of the houses are old : one, still occupied, was partly prefabricated in England and brought to the port before the First Four Ships. They have a variety of shapes and sizes. Some are built of corrugated iron. At least one which became vacant recently was found to lack amenities such as bathroom, washhouse, and even kitchen sink. And some betray their age in sagging verandas and lifting iron on the roofs. In a survey of Lyttelton in 1936, 24 per cent, of the houses were found to be unsuitable for the people then living in them.

The Town Clerk says the Council does its best to see that housing is improved, but finds this difficult without the law behind it. “ What we need,” he says, “ is a slum clearance Bill.” Others suggest that the Council should undertake a housing scheme of its own with money borrowed from the State, and still others would like to see the number of Government houses in the port increased. But Lyttelton has only seven applicants for State houses on the waiting list, and it is considered unlikely the Government will build any more houses there until the needs of Christchurch have been reduced.

The port’s water-supply, which has sometimes been strained, is to be the Council’s main concern this year. It is to be improved at a cost of £B,OOO. The plan is to sink additional wells at Heathcote, at the Christchurch end of the railway tunnel, and lay a new pipe-line through the tunnel to the mouth at Lyttelton. The Council has other suggestions for public works on its list, such as making a recreation-ground on the reclaimed mud-flat area, preparing a residential area at Cass Bay, west of the

port, tar-sealing roads and improving the water-supply at Diamond Harbour, and it may be one of these it will use as a rehabilitation scheme when the war is over.

Last year was a good one financially for the Council and it was able to put into bonds. It is hoped to use this after the war with a Government subsidy to provide employment for returned servicemen. And Lyttelton will have its fair share of them. Approximately 90 men from the port are overseas on service now. Fifty-one have returned, 18 are prisoners, 27 have been killed, posted missing, believed killed, or died of wounds, and 2 are missing. So about 188 men, or roughly 6 per cent, of the port’s population, have been away with one of the three services. The killed include three boys of one family and the only two boys of another. * It was a grey February morning with the tops of the hills above the port hidden by slowly moving cloud. Lyttelton looked drabber than ever. Heavy rain had been falling through the night. It was still falling ; and down near the jetties great pools of water lay between the railway-lines. The only people about seemed to be the shunters, and you couldn’t see much of them in their oilskin coats, gum boots, and peaked-and-slouched felt hats. In the Coronation Hall, the watersiders’ hall, a couple of men stood by a fire, talking. Except for them, the hall was empty. Work

was off for the morning, off until 1 o’clock, and would be probably put off then for the rest of the day. Near the door to the secretary’s office was a small poster : " The Truth About Greece. Price 3d. Get your copy here.”

Inside the office the secretary, alone, was sitting on a high stool at a desk. We asked him if the men were really interested in Greece. Did they ever express their opinions on international affairs ? They were interested, he said, and occasionally talked about international affairs at their monthly stopwork meetings. “ It’s got to be something exceptional, though,” he said. “ We’re interested, but we don’t have much time to talk about these things. Industrial business first. We did discuss Greece and we passed a resolution. We didn’t pretend we knew all about it- —■ just asked the Government to look into the matter.”

On the streets, in the bars, and in the restaurants you naturally don’t hear much talk about anything except local affairs and events on the waterfront. Particularly the waterfront. What’s coming tomorrow, what has she got, what is she taking ? And when you consider the town’s complete dependence on the port an inward-turning like this, a concentration on domestic day-to-day affairs, can scarcely be surprising. But up the hill we found that, if the Public Library is a reliable guide, the people don’t read much either. The library, with a subscription rate of 7s. 6d. a year, had 160 members, 5 per cent, of the population, and not all of them were full-year members. But then a good number of its 6,000 books were old—■ backs coming off and covers torn —and the room which housed them was overcrowded. Changes were being made, though. With the assistance of the Country Library Service, the library was to open in March as a free library, the nearest to the City of Christchurch. “ And,” said the Town Clerk, “ we’ll be disappointed if we don’t then get a thousand members.”' Rangiora, with the competition of two book clubs, has a free library with a membership of 50 per cent, of the population. Kaiapoi has one with a membership approaching

50 per cent. Lyttelton, which also has two book clubs, aims to reach about 30 per cent, of the people, and if it succeeds it will have a membership just about the average. Amongst a proportion of its population, however, it 'will have to compete with the libraries of Christchurch. Under the new system each resident will be entitled to one ticket which will allow the holder to take out one book, though at present only two tickets will be allowed to each family. . Extra books will be available at 3d. each. Not only has the Council agreed to spend more money on books this year, but the Country Library Service, in addition, will supply 470 books every six months and make available its loan collections, request service, and magazine service. What do the people read ? “ Current light fiction,” the librarian said, “ books by war correspondents, anything on the international situation.” And she added, “ But the men like westerns and crime. Something that will make them forget.” An inspection of the shelves showed that, if dilapidation was any criterion, the most popular fiction included that by such writers as Sax Rohmer, Grace Richmond, Margaret Pedler, Gene Stratton Porter, William MacLeod Raine, Joan Sutherland, Peter B. Kyne, Kathleen Norris, Jeffrey Farnol, Warwick Deeping, Jackson Gregory, Ethel M. Dell, Sapper, Taffrail, P. C. Wren, and Francis Brett Young. As in any small town, Lyttelton’s places of entertainment are strictly limited. You can go to the pictures at the Harbour Light Theatre or take

time out at billiards. But unless your town. For them, their port, marked with interest is in sailing or in local societies the drabness of its age and nature, is proband functions, about the only other ably a dull place in leisure-hours , /lot way to broaden the ' hlle the seek their fields of possibility pleasure m the city, is to spend an even- many peop e , rom ing in the city. A Je other side of train leaves Lyttel- the hills find theirs ton just after 7 P-m., in Lyttelton. To and on any week- those whose ac night a good pro- quaintance with it is portion of its pass- °nly a casual one ' engers seem to be the waterfront is a young folk going to fascinating place.