Banking on a dream

November's issue - from cocktails to caverns.

David Hallett

Lorne Kuehn went from Cold War weapon in Canada to rare breeds farmer on Banks Peninsula.

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The people on Banks Peninsula have paradise on their doorstep.

At the end of a long, tiring day, what awaits you? Sweeping views of the ocean? Native bush resonating with the calls of nature? The fulfilment of your life's dream? If you answered yes, there's a high chance you've arrived at Banks Peninsula.

Jutting out into the ocean, Banks Peninsula's large and craggy expanse offers all sorts of opportunities to all kinds of people. The one thing peninsula residents have in common, though, is they are all living their version of "the good life".

Sixty-six-year-old Lorne Kuehn was groomed from the age of 14 to become a scientist; a weapon to help North America win the Cold War. Yet, today you'll find him in Banks Peninsula, writing a provocative letter to the editor, completing a crossword, or tending to Oliver, a rare Gotland Pelt lamb.

Lorne was attending school in Alberta, Canada, when the Soviet Union successfully launched Sputnik 1 and spun Western governments into a frenzy.

"They actually went to all the schools and the brightest kids were sectioned off and [told] 'you're going to become scientists' ... I was a bright little boy and my whole education, my whole career, was just banged out for me."

Even before Lorne had finished tertiary study, he was conducting scientific research for the military and flying up the ranks.

He kept track of spies and nuclear weapons, assessed the latest Soviet technology, and spurred Canadian engineers into action if the Soviets were taking the lead in the arms race. By 1982, he was "chief scientific and technical intelligence guy" for the Canadian Government.

"I always had top salaries and always had a lot of support. Any time I wanted something, I got it. I've had a fantastic life as a scientist. I've had a life most farmers just dream of, and I've walked away from most of it."

Lorne's lifelong ambition was to follow in his grandfather's footsteps and become a farmer. He and his Kiwi wife, Pamela, had a 10-hectare hobby farm in Ottawa, Canada, but after a couple of trips to New Zealand and the end of the Cold War, Lorne thought it was time to make Pamela's place home.

"After 20 years [of living in Canada], I thought she'd suffered enough," he jokes.

More than anything, though, Lorne wanted to become an independent free thinker.

"And I thought, at the age 45, I can set myself up and be that, and that's why I came to New Zealand."

In 1989, the Kuehns bought a 45-hectare farm near Kaituna and moved into its English-style manor. Built for the Coop family of Cooptown in 1890, the 24-room house was once the epicentre of the settlement's social activity. It had its own golf course, racecourse and cricket pitch, and the house was managed by five live-in servants.

Today, 20 years after moving in, Lorne and Pamela have about 500 rare-breed animals, 4500 pines and eucalyptus trees, 1200 grapevines, and enough hazelnut trees to produce, literally, a tonne of nuts each year. Lorne picks them himself, while exploring "all kinds of mental constructs".

Lorne has modelled his life on two scientists, Charles Darwin and James Clerk Maxwell. Both lived on farms and dabbled with science in their spare time.

"If you bring me a problem, I can make a mathematical model and help tell you something new about the problem." He has done this, for his own interest, to understand the science of hazelnut pollination.

"You can use simple mathematical ideas to tell something about the world and then you help people who want to decide how far apart to put trees or what type to put among them."

Lorne's unpublished work is ahead of the pack, enabling him to anticipate what scientists will announce next.

"Whatever crazy idea I had, and was determined not to do, I did. And I keep some of them going. And that's the way I hope to live the rest of my life."

He keeps his mind active with sudoku puzzles and crosswords, reading material ranging from regional newspapers to Time magazine, and a constant stream of writing. His regular column in Canterbury Farming induced a self-published book of farming anecdotes called Died and Gone to Heaven, and his firm grip on current affairs leads to as many as four letters a day to various editors.

"It's my privilege in a democracy to put it up, so that people can read it, comment on it and rubbish me, and call me on it, and send me hate mail," Lorne says. "I get hate mail, but I get a lot of good things. I get people writing me letters about how happy they are that I can speak up.

"I'm this provocative guy, and some people take it negatively and some people take it positively," he says with a laugh.

Not far down the road, Rupert Glover and Margaret Sewell are enjoying their own version of "the good life". Both are respected criminal barristers Monday to Friday, but come the weekend, they're Banks Peninsula vintners, gardeners and lifestylers.

*For more, check out the November issue*