Signposts - a blog about Te Ara the Encyclopedia of New Zealand

Les Wright explaining some of the mining relics uncovered from excavations around the opencast mine near Reefton

It was a terrible shock to hear of the recent death of Les Wright in Pureora Forest. Les was an adopted West Coaster, and since his arrival there in 1973 he made an enormous contribution to heritage conservation through his broadcasting, writing and dedicated work behind the scenes.

When I was asked to write the regional entry on the West Coast for Te Ara about five years ago, a visit to Les was high on my priority list. I have happy memories of an afternoon spent in his home near Punakaiki as Les generously shared his experiences and answered questions while I scribbled notes.

When I asked him about distinctive West Coast artists he mentioned a number of contemporary names, then added that he had always had a soft spot for an almost unknown Czech photographer called Joseph Divis, who recorded life in mining towns in the early 20th century. I was enthralled by the images he showed me, and this was the start of a temporary obsession that was to dominate my life for about 18 months. I chased up Divis images and archives from Dunedin to Waihi. Throughout this period Les was constantly supportive through regular emails and long phone calls. When a book was eventually ready for publication Les declined to be included as a co-author, saying that he hadn’t written the text – but he had certainly provided much of the inspiration and background. We reached a compromise, with his name on the title page.

Les always had an interest in people and communities, especially mining towns. He was an excellent listener and oral historian, gathering memories from older residents who were overlooked by others. His books include accounts of the Rewanui settlement, the Powells of Charleston, the Big River quartz mine and most recently the short-lived mining settlement of Brighton. He also co-authored a history of cave exploration in New Zealand, which was an important resource for the Te Ara story on Caving.

Although Les had wide interests, the abandoned gold-mining town of Waiuta was particularly close to his heart, and he worked on different aspects of its history and conservation for over 30 years. He was a long-term supporter of the Friends of Waiuta, and had edited their newsletter since it started in 1985.

One of his recently published books, Our own fun: childhood memories of Waiuta is a delightful gem, and I know that it was a source of great satisfaction to him. It collects together memories of people who grew up in Waiuta and presents a composite view of childhood in an isolated mining town. Many of the contributors have now died, and their memories would have disappeared if Les had not painstakingly recorded their oral histories.

Les played an important role in the preservation of the West Coast’s mining heritage, but much of his work was behind the scenes. Among other things, he was a long-standing member of the West Coast Conservation Board and local file-keeper for site records for the Archaeological Association. For several years he produced West of the Alps, a local monthly tourist newspaper. In recent months he had been working on a mining heritage trail in the Nine Mile area north of Greymouth. His name was on many heritage or conservation plans for sites all over the West Coast as author, contributor or reviewer.

Les was often consulted about mining relicts uncovered during excavation of an opencast mine near Reefton. The mining company established a central site where relicts were deposited – nicknamed ‘Les’ Ironmongery’ – and he delighted in identifying and cataloguing pieces of rusty machinery. The photograph at the top of this post was taken while Les was showing a group some of the relicts that fascinated him.

Les Wright is mourned by his family and a wide circle of friends and colleagues. We remember someone with a passion for conservation and history who did so much to preserve and document the mining heritage of the West Coast.

Peter Conway of the CTU speaks at Workers' Memorial Day

On Sunday 28 April I attended a ceremony at KiwiRail’s Lower Hutt railway workshops in Moera to mark Workers’ Memorial Day. The day is an international event to commemorate workers killed and injured on the job. While New Zealanders are reminded on Anzac Day of the heavy price our people have paid in war, many are unaware of the casualties resulting from simply earning a living. The release of the Report of the Independent Taskforce on Workplace Health and Safety on Tuesday 30 April has brought the issue of workplace safety sharply into focus.

According to the report, ‘there were on average 102 fatal work-related deaths [each year] between 2008 and 2010′. Each year around one in 10 New Zealand workers are harmed through an accident or work related activity. Between 500 to 800 people die prematurely each year through illnesses directly related to the workplace. These rates are high in comparison to those in many other OECD countries. (The report also acknowledges there are some problems with the reliability of data for workplace injuries in New Zealand.)

Five high-risk industries account for over half of workplace injuries and occupational illnesses: manufacturing, construction, agriculture, forestry and fisheries. These high-risk industries are notable for having high proportions of Māori and Pacific workers, and for often having higher numbers of males in their workforces.

New Zealand has a sombre history of industrial accidents. The most recent large-scale event was the Pike River disaster, with 29 workers dying in the mine explosion of 19 November 2010. Other major disasters have included:

• The Brunner mine disaster, 26 March 1896, with 65 deaths from gas following an explosion.
• Ralph’s mine explosion at Huntly, 12 September 1914, where 43 miners were killed.
• The Strongman mine disaster, 19 January 1967, with the deaths of 19 miners.
• The Christchurch Ballantyne’s fire, 18 November 1947. Forty-one dressmakers, milliners and clerical staff died, partly a result of inadequate fire-safety provisions.
• The many ship wrecks where crew have died on the job. These include the sinking of HMS Orpheus at the Manukau bar, Auckland, on 7 February 1863, with 189 naval personnel drowning.

The majority of New Zealand’s industrial deaths and injuries have been less dramatic, though equally tragic, involving individual workers going about their tasks. Workers in jobs such as demolition and sawmill work have developed illnesses from hazardous substances, including asbestos and dioxins. Historically, jobs such as labouring, factory and cleaning work have involved injuries from occupational over-use syndrome (OOS). In recent times the increase in keyboard-based computer work has brought further risks from OOS.

Workers’ Memorial Day is an international event held annually to remember the people behind the statistics. It commemorates those killed and injured at work, along with the families who must deal with the after effects. Memorial Day also draws attention to ongoing health and safety issues. The day was first held in Canada in 1984 and has since spread to many other countries. The date of 28 April was chosen as on that day in 1914 Ontario became the first province in Canada to introduce a workers’ compensation law.

In New Zealand Workers’ Memorial Day events are generally organised by unions, in particular the Council of Trade Unions (CTU) and the Rail and Maritime Transport Union (RMTU). This year memorial services were held at Auckland, Hamilton, Tauranga/Mt Maunganui, Napier, Lower Hutt, Christchurch and Dunedin. The service in Auckland, organised by the CTU, focused on the 28 forestry workers who have been killed at work in the years since 2008.

A memorial to Jack Neha, a railway worker who was killed on the job in 1995

The ceremony at the Lower Hutt railway workshops included prayers, a moment of silence, and wreath-laying. There were addresses by speakers from the CTU and RMTU, a KiwiRail representative and by the local MP Chris Hipkins. Hazel Armstrong, a lawyer who has been involved for many years in workplace safety issues, spoke and launched her new book Your life for the job: New Zealand rail safety 1974–2000. Armstrong’s book looks closely at the period from 1995 to 2000, the years when 11 railway workers were killed. Armstrong argues that these casualties resulted from the extreme deregulation of the railways. It was appropriate that a highlight of the ceremony was the unveiling of a memorial to Jack Neha, a worker killed at the Gracefield shunting yards in 1995.

This month the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra is performing Orpheus in Rarohenga, a stunning modern choral work by local composer John Psathas, both in Wellington (Friday 10 May) and Auckland (Saturday 25 May).

Based on an epic poem by Robert Sullivan, combining European and Polynesian mythology, the work covers James Cook’s exploration of the Pacific, his death in Hawaii and his journey into Rarohenga, the underworld. Originally commissioned in 2002 for the 50th anniversary of the Orpheus Choir of Wellington, the work has previously had only a single performance.

John Psathas was little known a decade ago, but subsequently composed the music for the opening ceremony of the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens and is now recognised as a leading 21st-century composer on the international stage. The work is typical of Psathas, with a large percussion section, jazzy rhythms and a battery of drums depicting armed conflict. The Orpheus Choir is singing in both performances.

A billboard celebrating John Psathas, composer and Wellingtonian

When originally performed there were mutterings about the unflattering image of James Cook presented in Sullivan’s libretto. I am from a generation that was taught to believe in Cook’s virtues – that he was an exceptional navigator, treated his crew fairly and was responsible for the elimination of scurvy. Certainly Cook was regarded as humane in European eyes, but this was not the experience of native peoples as he travelled around the Pacific. While he preferred to negotiate for water and supplies rather than use force, his ships always carried a troop of marines armed with muskets, and Cook didn’t hesitate to use them if talking didn’t work, or if the ship or the crew were threatened.

Recent books such as Anne Salmond’s The trial of the cannibal dog and Joan Druett’s Tupaia paint a more realistic view of Cook’s impact on the communities he visited, both in terms of violence and the spread of disease. In 2013 Sullivan’s libretto is much more acceptable than it was a decade ago.

Te Papa currently has a large portrait of the Tahitian princess Poedua on display. Nicknamed the ‘Pacific Mona Lisa’, its romantic setting hides a darker side of how Cook ran his expeditions. While anchored off Raiatea two of Cook’s men deserted. He reacted quickly, abducting members of the local chief’s family and holding them hostage until the deserters were returned. Poedua was painted by John Webber while being held captive on board ship.

Near the end of his third voyage, Cook made landfall in Hawaii at Kealakekua Bay. He and his crew outstayed their welcome, and there were quarrels and pilfering by the Hawaiians. After one of the ship’s boats was taken, Cook tried to forcibly abduct a local leader as a hostage for its return. The landing party was overwhelmed, and Cook and four of the marines were killed. The events leading up to Cook’s death form the dramatic climax to Orpheus in Rarohenga.

Wine and cheese evening (click for image credit)

Does alcohol mean good fellowship and heavenly tastes, or is it a route to poverty and despair? Is gambling just the excitement of a flutter at the races, or an addiction which can become a ruinous burden? Are recreational drugs a harmless way to see life differently, or poisons which befuddle the mind and eventually kill the body? Is it always ‘time for a Capstan’; or is smoking the country’s greatest killer?

If there is one lesson that emerges from the five new stories we have just released, it is that one person’s pleasure is another person’s vice.

The history of alcohol, drugs, gambling and smoking which are told in these entries, along with a fifth entry that examines the Māori experience, is a fascinating story of changing perceptions and judgements. What were once innocent pleasures to some became addictive vices for others. Take alcohol. In the early 19th century most UK immigrants regarded alcohol as an essential food and a way of relaxing from a tough physical life. They normally drank spirits – brandy and rum, not the beer they were used to at home – but drink they did, unashamedly. In the 19th century it was only in the Māori community that alcohol was initially regarded as waipiro (foul water) and something to be avoided. However, by the end of the century public perceptions had changed. A powerful prohibition movement had emerged and the struggle between drink as pleasure and drink as vice led eventually to that strange Kiwi compromise, six o’clock closing. Eventually from the 1960s restrictions were lifted. Surely we had grown up and overcome the vicious social and personal impacts of alcohol – or so we thought until the sight of teenagers pre-loading with RTDs and then vomiting on sidewalks sparked a new perception of alcohol as vice.

Smoking has a different story. In colonial New Zealand it was fine for Pākehā men to puff away on their pipes, but not for Pākehā women. Māori made no such distinction. From the earliest times, kuia as well as kaumātua were smokers. In the first half of the 20th century, as cigarettes replaced the pipe, smoking became regarded as a universal pleasure – ‘Whatever the occasion’, as Players said. By the 1950s three-quarters of all men and a third of all women smoked. Then medical discoveries provided a new perspective, setting in motion a war on smoking as the worst of vices. Today a small minority, under a fifth of adults, smoke – although the figure is much higher among Māori women.

The drug story is also a fascinating study of changing perceptions. In the 19th century cannabis and opium were freely available, usually consumed as patent medicines – laudanum for middle-class women, Chlorodyne for the kids. The main recreational users were Chinese gold miners, but in one of the most remarkable acts of self-discipline in our history, the Chinese community petitioned to make opium illegal and succeeded in driving the addiction from their community. But New Zealand was slow in restricting drugs – cannabis was not restricted until the 1920s, and we had one of the world’s highest rates of heroin use in the 1940s. Then, just as the counter-culture began to discover dope and LSD in the late 1960s, others began to see these as dangerous vices which needed repressing. Today we have an unusual pattern – high use of cannabis, ecstasy and amphetamines, low use of heroin and cocaine – with some in the community arguing that it is time that drugs were no longer treated as vices at all.

As for gambling, here too there have been contrasts in attitude. In the early 20th century there were restrictions on bookmakers and lotteries. Then the state came in and saw gambling as a source of revenue and fun. The government, it was felt, could keep a kind of six-o’clock-closing balance between vice and pleasure. But the revenue and tourism possibilities became stronger, restrictions were eased, and now with New Zealanders spending over $30 million each week on a flutter, new perceptions of gambling have emerged. The pokies, especially, are viewed by some as a vicious industry which hurts the poor and the vulnerable.

Te Ara cannot give the final word on these matters. We have no doubt that perceptions of pleasure and of vice in these matters will continue to evolve. But for now enjoy these entries, and think about where you stand. Which are the real vices, which the innocent pleasures?