Whitebait- what’s all the fuss? Part 2

Of course there is a sequel to the story.

Years later when my Brother Les and I were in our late thirties we decided to take our 15 year old son’s, Ryan and James, to Little Wanganui to recapture some of the fun we had all those years before. But the situation had changed and we were no longer the cash strapped little boys of yesteryear. Cocky as hell, we arrive in town with the son’s aluminium boat we had just bought them, brand new nets, shiny stainless steel buckets and every mod con invented to catch Whitebait. We put the boat in the water and with all on board James took the wheel and put the throttle hard down. Les and I knew the river, well aware of continually shifting sand banks, and we looked at each other thinking why spoil the boys fun, right? We secretly, and stupidly, hoped there was enough water in the river. This game of Russian Roulette came to an abrupt end when at 30 mph the boat struck a sand bank. I was thrown sideways into the bottom of the boat losing my false teeth, nets and buckets everywhere, and James trying to reassure us it wasn’t his fault.

The next minute the boat is back on the trailer, everything loaded up, with the net pole sticking up high above the boat. Off to the pub. But along the way we had to pass under some low hanging trees and, yes you guessed it… I got the van up to 50 kph and there was a hell of a racket as the poles hit the trees. We stopped and got out and strewn all over the road were mangled white bait nets, poles, buckets, boots… and James again saying it wasn’t his fault.

So the next day Les and I spent the day in the pub talking about catching whitebait. Our sons none the wiser about the river and still no clue as to how to catch the elusive little fish. So it just goes to show you, live every day like it’s your last because it’s impossible to recapture the fun of the past.

Fun is like water, you can’t drink a glass you drank yesterday.

Whitebait- what’s all the fuss? Part 1

While looking through my photos I found this one of the swing bridge that used to go across the Little Wanganui at Karamea. When we were young we would all run across it and promise the girls and young ones that we wouldn’t swing the bridge, but half way over we couldn’t help ourselves. As we swung it some would squeal in delight of the fun of it but some of the young ones would start to cry so we would have to carry them the rest of the way. We spent so much time on that river we felt like Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer. But for us it was a different kind of adventure- the whitebait.

We carried our handmade nets and metal buckets over and back on that bridge more times than I can remember. Our wonderful mother made the nets for us on her tread Singer Sewing machine. We worked the incoming tide and then dredged the holes as the tide went out, hunting the whitebait wherever they were. We biked the four miles home at dusk or later, too tired to eat, sometimes just falling into bed to start it all over again the next day.

We ended each season with pocket money from the sale of the fish, ours to spend how we pleased. But as the road and bridge was put in for the cars there was very little need for the old suspension bridge and it slowly fell into disrepair.

Driving past in later years I felt sad to see two rusty cables and rotten boards hanging off them. Today when folks drive past there is nothing left to see. But whenever I visit this part of the country I always drive slow and remember the happy times we had on our swing bridge that got us across the river.

For people that don’t know about whitebait, it’s a baby fish about an inch long that swims in shoals up certain rivers in New Zealand and for the first two days it has no gut. It looks like clumps of cooked fine rice noodles sprinkled with poppy seeds (the eyes). The Whitebaiter normally catches this fish for money, but there are those whose enjoyment comes from giving it away as a treasured gift. I’m still looking for this sharing person as they are as rare as leprechauns.

This delicacy is simply cooked like a pancake in a flour egg batter and finished with a squeeze of lemon.

Try this recipe… http://www.oceanz.co.nz/Recipes/Classic+Whitebait+Fritters.html

Photos of whitebaiting http://www.fishingmag.co.nz/whitebait-west-coast-06.htm

Pic from http://www.fishingmag.co.nz/whitebait-waimak-bigpic-oct-2005.htm

Lest We Forget

The dog got me up early the other morning. Standing there in the cold and in the still of the day I heard the bugler playing the Last Post, the music that always brings sadness, and if you think about it long enough you think of young men, death, and horror of war. By this time I am awake and realise it’s Anzac day and I start to think of the book I am writing on Charles Jacobsen, my Grandfather. He fought in the first World War.

He was at Gallipoli, the Somme and many others. He was in the trenches first and they realised he was a good shot with a gun, so they made him a sniper. In his notes he wrote of an incident where he is lying in wait and a German officer saw him first and fired his Lugar pistol, taking out a bit of Charlie’s ear. The German had to get over a log to get a better shot but Charlie was ready and ended the young German’s life. He went through the young man’s wallet as they were instructed to do and he found a letter from his wife writing in great affection for him. Charlie was moved by the letter and wrote back to the woman telling how her husband died a hero in line of duty and never suffered and how so sorry he was, the one to make her a widow. He kept the Lugar pistol, which is still in procession of our family today.

We are lucky this generation has never had to send young men to war and for everybody’s sake it is history. We hope it will never happen again. And so we say, “Lest we forget.”

The Magic of eBook Publishing

I was with my old mate Dwayne, and he had been working on the eBook version for a month. He called me over to his place and we pushed the button on the computer- and that was my eBook, Horncastle’s Suitcase, published worldwide for everybody to read. We used a program called Smashwords that coverts a word document into seven different formats that can be accessed and read on most devices, from computers, Kindle readers to iPads and the like.

I never thought I would have gotten this far, even when just a few years ago I picked up that laptop to write a short story to learn how to type and use a computer. It just shows that you can teach an old dog new tricks. And now I am writing my second book of my grandfather’s life, Charles Jacobsen, from the early 1800’s through to 1960 where it connects to Horncastle’s Suitcase and follows the life of one branch of the family from the 1800’s to 2011- over a hundred years of life.

I feel humble and proud to find I have the ability to get the words out to record our place in history. I tried to find the famous words and I think they go like this… “There is life then death but written words are there forever.”

Sometimes time away helps you gain perspective

Maureen and I flew to Brisbane for the week just to have a break from the Pavilions Hotel and the battle with insurance companies. We stayed at Surfers Paradise and the weather was gorgeous. Refreshed and energised it’s good to come home to Canterbury, even with the Christchurch earthquake reminders throughout the city.

However, coming back this time Christchurch feels alive with all the new stuff going on everywhere and there are things happening that we’ve never seen before. It will be exciting when the labour force of thousands, people of all nationalities, come to rebuild our city.

So I say to everybody- don’t stress out about what we had because it’s gone forever, remain positive for what is coming. Remember, you are the ones who lived through it and the young ones coming on will get it from you, the history books and the web. Share your story of hope and prosperity.

 

News Flash- 1 April 1992 Graeme Horncastle and his wife Maureen take ownership of Pavilions Hotel Christchurch NZ

 

Twenty years ago we left Nelson to come to the ‘big smoke’ of Christchurch, I was 40 and Maureen 38 years old. When we arrived the first thing we found out was that our small town clothes didn’t quite suit the fashion in second biggest city in New Zealand or the three star Hotel we were going to operate. So Maureen had to go out and buy a whole new wardrobe for us both.

The fax machine was the latest thing out where you could write on a piece of paper and in seconds it was the other side of the world. Telex machines had just been retired, you know, the monsters that took up a large space in the room and were noisy as hell. Our computer was a 286 Microsoft model, the first of the home computers. The information was mostly in dots and slashes with very little memory and everything printed with a carbon back sheet that was pushed onto a metal spike to process later.

To a New Zealander an overseas trip was going to Surfer’s Paradise on the Gold Coast of Australia. Internet had not been invented and a web site was where a spider lived. The telephone rang non-stop and bookings had to be hand written and filed until we had time to enter the info into that slow computer.

Mobile phones had only just been invented and were only supplied to heads of companies that needed to be in touch by the hour. And when one rang in the bar everybody turned around to see who it was. The calls had to be kept short as the cost of this government controlled system restricted their use. We had telephones in the rooms but most people were too afraid to use them because of the high cost of this Crown controlled system. We provided 23 inch tube TV’s and guests got to choose from three, you guessed it, state controlled stations and six front desk controlled videos.

Our Bar and Café were busy all of the time because we knew how to show people a good time. It also helped that there were very few bars and street cafe’s in the city back then. It was a party atmosphere in the bar and everybody knew each other.

Everything has come a long way since those days. We are proud to claim that we have stayed open 24 hours a day every day over those twenty years, through the worse snow storm in 50 years, family bereavement and the Christchurch earthquakes of 2010/11/12. We never closed.

Over the years much of our family have worked for us – nephew’s, nieces, brothers, sisters, brothers-in-law, and sisters-in-law. Our own daughter Debbie Horncastle is the present day Manager. Our second daughter, Shelley, also managed the hotel until her ill-timed death in 2001. Our son Ryan Horncastle worked here many times over the years taking up different roles. It’s really great to now see my grandchildren, Brooke 18, and Jared 15, working part-time. These are Debbie’s children. Of course we have to thank the thousands of other people who have worked here over the years, too.

So thank you Pavilions for providing me with the wealth and means to raise my family, my way of life, and the place I am always glad to come home to. Happy 20^th Anniversary.

Christchurch Cathedral and the Public

Christchurch Cathedral during Feb 2011 Earthquake

Christchurch Cathedral is now almost gone as a result of the Christchurch earthquake on that day 22rd of February 2011 and is now part of history and will never be forgotten.

What does Christchurch do from here? Is it the icon of the city or a place of worship?

Either way it is tens of millions of dollars to repair. Everybody has an opinion of what should happen. The realists understand that the cost is way beyond what the destroyed city can afford. As a city we have many other more important services and repairs to attend to. Then there’s the people that don’t understand the money and just want it put back the way it was. The problem is these people live in the past where there was surplus money in the world. These times are long gone and people with money are holding it close. I believe the building will be made safe and the debate will go on for years.

The site will become more popular than ever as a reminder of what happened to the face of Christchurch city- changed forever when hundreds of people died and others severely injured. The mind set of thousands of Cantabrians has changed forever.

It’s never too late

…to start heading in the right direction.

The following is one of the best responses I have had on my book. I can see my grandson understands what it is I was trying to put across. Of course it has even more poignancy and impact when you are family. My thoughts are as you get older you must look at where you are going but always remember you must enjoy what you do because it is a way of life. Not everybody should work for themself, as 80% go broke. Some are better with a high paying job living well and still put away 20% of it and be better off than being in small business. If you ever want to talk about this or my book, call me or come and see me at the Pavilions Hotel in Christchurch. All the very best. Graeme H

 

I just finished your book and found it very special to me I think you done a great job. I feel I actually know Granddad Horncastle now, so thank you for that. The scary thing is to find myself very alike to but not in the negative way. Was very intriguing. So I hope one day I could sit down with you and one on one talk to you about him.

Also I am ashamed to admit I judged you very wrong growing up. I guess I didn’t understand or it was never explained that you worked hard to be where you are in life. I guess I got warped into the jealousy and others beliefs of your character and never made an effort because of that. I apologise for that.

Your book has shown me that I too can be successful. I’ve had a rough run with ex’s spending more than I could make so I got rid of her and got a new one that was a bit the same, but have since shown her it’s not the way and now we’re starting to do very well. I earn exceptional money and plan to very soon take advantage of that to move forward in life from a standard run of the mill working family to something more enduring for my kids and grandkids. So when I’m set ready to start looking for an enterprise I hope that if you are not too busy that you could spare a few phone calls for some advice on ideas and problems.

Anyway, parts in the book on recovering from alcohol made me very proud of you for successfully changing your lifestyle. Unfortunately I think the Horncastle family through the generations is prone to alcohol abuse or depression of some form. I consider myself an alcoholic and have recently changed my ways to prevent me from heading down the same road as others. Two of the family in my generation no longer drink. So to sum up your book- it was exactly what I needed to read to kick me in the arse to start life again and get stuck in. So thank you.  Writers name withheld

A deep rich history that is bigger than just one family

Finding my book on sale in Whitcoulls in Riccarton. Just had to be a photo opp.

When you do something, like write a book, and pour your heart out you wonder if anyone is listening, reading or even cares. And then you get feedback and comments like the ones on my website and I know it’s been worth all the effort and pain. I wasn’t sure what kind of legacy I’d be leaving behind, but I can live with this as being part of it. So thank you all for reaching out and sharing your thoughts and feelings.

 

Shooting accident at the Buller Marathon 2012

Shooting accident at the Buller Marathon 2012

We have been on our annual foray to the West Coast Buller Marathon to enter our team from the Pavilions Hotel. Aside from shameless self PR of the Hotel, we helped with the prize giving and by provided some funding for the event as well, as we always do. I used to walk the half marathon but I talk too much, am a bit overweight and here’s a really good excuse I’m older.

I know, sounds pathetic. It’s my excuse and I’m sticking with it. Besides, we have been attending and supporting this event for over twenty years and it’s now my daughter Debbie Horncastle who is heading the team and doing the actual running these days.

For the last few years I’ve been firing their old wartime 303 rifle to start the half event, even though it’s all electronics these days. It seems they don’t want to let the past go as it has been used for thirty-odd years. Hey, it’s a tradition!

With everybody waiting, the countdown started and about two thousand faces were watching me, waiting for me to pull the trigger. I pulled. But the old gun misfires and the only sound was a sharp click. That’s all they needed, it seemed, because they all bolted into action and got away.

I knew I would get reminded about this click-start all day so, never short of a story, I said “I don’t know where the fault lay. Not sure if it was Graeme Horncastle, the sixty year old shooter, or the seventy year old gun but I’m glad it was not in front of the enemy, which is what the old 303 rifle was built for in the first place!”