Archive for the 'Simon Nathan' Category

Remembering Jack Clarke

Jack Clarke and fellow climber Lawrence Earle on Mt D’Archiac in March 1910

Jack Clarke and fellow climber Lawrence Earle on Mt D’Archiac in March 1910

On Christmas Day 1894 three young men made the first ascent of Aoraki/Mt Cook – Tom Fyfe, George Graham and Jack Clarke, a plumber, a carpenter and a handyman. They had forestalled moneyed English climber Edward Fitzgerald with his Swiss guide Mattias Zurbriggen, and their achievement helped underpin the tradition that mountaineering in New Zealand could be enjoyed by anyone who had the skills, and was not just a recreation for gentlemen.

Jack Clarke was only 19 when he first climbed Mt Cook – ‘the youngest on the highest,’ as John Pascoe described his feat. For the next 20 years he made his living as an alpine guide at Mt Cook and elsewhere. His high standards and attention to detail did much to set the pattern of guiding and mountaineering in the early part of the 20th century. But, until recently, he remained a shadowy figure and was not included in the Dictionary of New Zealand Biography. So, a few days ago I was delighted to attend the launch of Graham Langton’s new biography, Summits and shadows: Jack Clarke and New Zealand mountaineering.

As a historian of the mountains and professional archivist, Graham Langton has been able to pull together a fascinating account of early mountaineering in the Southern Alps, illustrated by a huge range of photographs. Although Clarke apparently didn’t take photographs himself, he is recorded in many groups taken by clients and other climbers, slowly changing over the years.

Life as a climbing guide was never easy for Jack Clarke. As well as being an experienced mountaineer, he had to plan every trip and arrange for supplies, act as a general factotum, carry heavy loads, cut or kick steps for his clients, and ensure that they returned all safely. But also, as a paid employee, he needed what would today be called good interpersonal skills and the ability to ensure that his clients returned satisfied from their expeditions. Although Clarke was a quiet, self-effacing man, he was obviously a good companion and was in constant demand as a guide. Two of his well-off clients funded him on overseas trips which helped to broaden his knowledge and experience.

After more than 10 years guiding at the Hermitage, Clarke was enticed to work for the New Zealand Geological Survey in 1906 by James Mackintosh Bell, an ambitious young Canadian geologist. Bell had a strong adventurous streak, and was keen to climb mountains and explore remote areas, as well as keeping an eye on field parties around New Zealand. Jack Clarke was an ideal guide and field hand because he was an experienced organiser as well as being able to handle extreme conditions in the mountains and the bush. Bell recorded his journeys in files, official reports and a later book, The Wilds of Maoriland (1914), where he gives generous credit to Clarke for the success of some difficult trips.

Bell was responsible for the construction of the first Heaphy hut as a base for geological exploration. A famous photograph, used in Te Ara, shows a group in front of the newly completed hut. Geologists have always assumed that the commanding man on the left was Bell, but I have to agree with Graham Langton that it is almost certainly Jack Clarke as he looks so similar to other photographs taken around the same time. Perhaps Bell was the photographer.

In 1909 Clarke returned to the Hermitage as a private guide, and over the next five years undertook some of his most notable climbs in the Southern Alps. He enlisted in the army a few days after the First World War was declared, and his climbing career was over. He lived on for almost 40 years in obscurity, and Graham Langton has painstakingly pieced together the story of the second part of his life.

This biography is a great read for anyone interested in the history of mountaineering and its social history. It is a worthy memorial for Jack Clarke.

James Hector’s giant map

James Hector (1834–1907) was the dominant figure in 19th-century science in New Zealand. Although he was initially employed as a geologist, he covered the whole range of natural science and explored remote parts of New Zealand. Hector’s dolphin is named after him, as is Mt Hector in the Tararua Range.

New Zealand geologists celebrate his birthday – 16th March – as Hector Day. This year the Hocken Library in Dunedin is celebrating Hector’s birthday by unveiling a newly restored copy of his 1864 geological map of Otago. More than 1.5 metres wide, it is an impressive map that former Otago graduates may recall on display in the geology museum. You can also examine it online at a newly created website, and zoom in to look at detail.

Map curator Karen Craw with a digitally scanned copy of Hector’s geological map of Otago

Map curator Karen Craw with a digitally scanned copy of Hector’s geological map of Otago

Between 1862 and 1864 Hector explored the whole of Otago province (including Southland). Fiordland was particularly inaccessible, so he spent six months investigating the fiords in a small schooner, the Matilda Hayes. During that time he found a route between Lake McKerrow and Queenstown, and returned briefly to a triumphant welcome in Dunedin.

Close-up of the Dunedin volcano (coloured red), a detail from Hector's map

Close-up of the Dunedin volcano (coloured red), a detail from Hector's map

James Hector has a special place in Te Ara – he is one of the most frequently mentioned individuals and appears in a variety of entries, including mining, birdwatching, and timekeeping. Try typing ‘hector’ in the search box at the top right of any page on Te Ara, and you will see the range of his contributions.

Pink Terraces rediscovered

The Pink Terraces

The Pink Terraces

Geoscientists often appear in the news media commenting on disasters, so it is a delight to record some good news – the rediscovery of the Pink Terraces, which were thought to have been destroyed during the 1886 Tarawera eruption.

Over the last fortnight a joint USA–New Zealand team has been exploring the bed of Lake Rotomahana using an unmanned yellow submarine, the Remus 100, which is shaped like a two-metre torpedo. The battery-powered device, developed at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, travels along a predetermined course, following the shape of the lake floor, and recording information about the lake. You can see an illustrated account of the investigations on Julian’s Blog, and on YouTube you can watch an excellent video about it all: How we found the Pink Terraces.

Side-scan sonar and bathymetric data clearly show crescent-shaped terraces in about 60 metres of water where the terraces were located before 1886, and underwater photos show terrace features as well as the lake bottom sediments.

Scientists involved in the Rotomahana project announced their discovery of the remains of the Pink Terraces at a special meeting at Whakarewarewa marae in Rotorua. The discovery has special significance for the Tūhourangi people (a sub-tribe of Te Arawa) who used to guide visitors around the Pink and White terraces. Many of their ancestors were killed during the Tarawera eruption, and some of those who survived settled at Whakarewarewa.

Project leader Cornel de Ronde from GNS Science, said, ‘This result puts to rest more than a century of speculation about whether the Pink and White terraces survived the eruption. Highlights in a science career don’t come any better than this.’

The Pink and White terraces were one of New Zealand’s leading tourist attractions in the late 19th century – often referred to by locals as the eighth wonder of the world – and were regularly painted and photographed. They are believed to have been some of the most extensive silica terraces in the world. The distinctive colour of the pink terraces was almost certainly due to a pigmented bacterium, probably Thermus ruber.

Postscript

Every project has its critics. It gives me some satisfaction to note that commentator Steve Braunias was incorrect in his ‘prediction’ that the submersible would fail.

150 years of weather forecasting

Robert FitzRoy – father of forecasting

The Times of London recently included an editorial and two-page feature to mark the 150th anniversary of their first published weather forecast, in September 1860. The paper has published daily weather forecasts ever since, and this is the page that almost every reader looks at.

The New Zealand connection with the early weather forecasts is that they were devised by Robert FitzRoy, naval captain and navigator, who was governor of New Zealand from 1843 to 1845. FitzRoy was not a success as governor, and was replaced in late 1845 when he returned to a career in the Royal Navy, eventually gaining the rank of rear admiral. After retirement from active service in 1854, he was appointed to lead a small group collecting weather information at sea, with the title of Meteorological Statist to the Board of Trade. It was a backwater, but he developed it into a respected scientific organisation that became the British Meteorological Service.

FitzRoy arranged for a group of British sea captains to systematically collect weather measurements with specially designed instruments. After a huge storm in 1859 which caused large loss of life, he developed charts from which predictions of future weather could be made. Fifteen land stations around Britain were set up, from where regular weather measurements were telegraphed to him in London. In 1860 FitzRoy produced his first predictions of future weather, for which he coined the name ‘weather forecasts’, and published them in The Times. He also started a system of hoisting storm warning cones at major ports when a storm was expected. His Weather Book, published in 1863, provided a model for weather that was later used by weather forecasters around the world.

Weather forecasting was highly controversial in 1860, especially as the early forecasts were often wrong. Some likened forecasting to astrology, and there was scathing correspondence in the letters page of The Times. Many fishing fleet owners objected to gale warnings, requiring fleets not to leave ports, but FitzRoy had strong support from sailors and fishermen. The ongoing criticism as well as a lack of support from Admiralty superiors may have contributed to his suicide in 1865.

FitzRoy’s work provided the basis for the development of weather forecasting in New Zealand. James Hector, recently returned from exploration in western Canada, was working in London during 1860-61, and would have been well aware of the discussions about forecasting, both in the newspapers and behind the scenes at the Royal Society. For over 40 years after he arrived in New Zealand in 1862, Hector was to play a major part in the collection of weather data, but the day-to-day forecasting was done by Captain Robert Edwin, who based his forecasts closely on the system adopted by FitzRoy. Once a telegraph cable had been laid across Cook Strait, results from observer stations could be telegraphed to a base in Wellington, forming the basis for forecasts.

Recently NIWA has named its new supercomputer, to be used for environmental work and weather forecasting, after Robert FitzRoy. He deserves to be remembered as the father of weather forecasting.

The West Coast’s sesqui

West Coast celebrates 150 years

The West Coast celebrates 150 years

Recently, the West Coast celebrated its sesquicentennial – 150 years since the Arahura Deed of Purchase was signed at Māwhera Pā (near the present Greymouth railway station) between James Mackay and Poutini Ngāi Tahu chiefs from all over the region on 21 May 1860. The sale covered the entire West Coast region, from Kahurangi in the north to Milford Sound in the south. Hemmed in between the mountains and the sea, with little habitable land, the region has long had a distinctive identity as frontier bushland. Attracted by the lure of gold, miners swarmed over the country from late 1864 onwards, and provided the first wave of settlers – English, Irish, Scots, and later Chinese.

In celebrating the jubilee, Grey District Mayor Tony Kokshoorn said, ‘The West Coast has a rugged beauty and unforgiving nature, which has taken its toll. We need to celebrate what it has made us – a close-knit community.’

Last year Te Ara launched its coverage of the West Coast region as part of the Places theme. As author of the West Coast entry, I found it fascinating to travel around this region where I had worked for many years, and notice the changes in the first decade of the 21st century. Mining still remains an important part of the culture, with widespread public support. Technology has replaced much of the manual work of mining in modern mine sites such as Stockton, Pike River, and Reefton’s Globe opencast.

Dairy farming is now big business, with year-round rainfall and moderate temperatures meaning that grass grows vigorously without the need for irrigation. A distinctive West Coast innovation has been the development of humping-and-hollowing, which stops flat land from becoming waterlogged and pugged by cows walking on it.

Fox Glacier, painted by Premier William Fox in 1872

Fox Glacier, painted by Premier William Fox in 1872

Tourism is the third leg of the regional economy, which has boomed in recent years as many overseas visitors travel to visit the Franz Josef and Fox glaciers as well as other attractions such as the Pancake Rocks and the Ōpārara caves.

In the last year there have been some interesting changes on the West Coast:

  • Shantytown curator Julia Bradshaw has published the first account of Chinese on the West Coast. Much of our knowledge of Chinese miners previously came from research in Otago, but now they are commemorated with Chinatown in the Shantytown complex.
  • Kete West Coast has been launched to capture and preserve the historical and current memories, pictures and documents of West Coast people and events.