Snapshots of summer

Christchurch celebrities re-live their favourite summer memories.

BOB PARKER

The best part of the summer when I was a child was going over to Akaroa.  In the 1950s my parents had bought a small bach there at the top end of Woodills Rd. It was called Daisy Cottage and stood in the middle of an orchard with a huge chestnut tree out front. I always remember how Boska, our fox terrier, would bale up possums in the trees.

It was a long drive to Akaroa; it was a distant, isolated community in those days. I remember one time, on the way, there were all these cars stopped at Birdlings Flat. We pulled up and got out, and the whole sky was filled with these amazing lights - it was the Aurora Australis. As a child, it was quite spooky.

Most of the time I'd trawl around the hills with a few mates or head over to different bays. We'd be out all day, making tracks or walking up the valley. I remember making canoes out of flax and floating them down streams.  

The sea was a big part of our summer. Dad had helped build a slipway by Daly's Wharf and I was allowed to go down there in my little dinghy. We'd row around and jump off and swim, maybe try some fishing.

Red cod were plentiful in the harbour in those days. You could go down with a hand line with three hooks and you'd always catch something. Some of them we ate fresh from the barbecue and some Dad smoked in this little smokehouse he'd built.

Sometimes at night we'd go out in the dinghy with a little lantern fixed to the front and try to spear flounder in the bay. There was just enough light to see the bottom and we'd look for tell-tale signs - the sand dusting up on the seabed and things like that. I'll never forget one time Dad speared a conger eel. It was absolute mayhem on the dinghy, this enormous eel flapping about.

In the evenings, we'd often gather around my father's radio. It had come out of an old Lancaster bomber and it was enormous. I thought it was the most high-tech thing I had ever seen with these big old dials and different coloured lights and it would pick up all sorts of things. Sometimes, I would up-end a chair in front of it and make a den, pretending I was in the cockpit of the bomber.

Looking back, we enjoyed immense freedom. The summers were full of exploration with friends who you wouldn't see the rest of the year. I remember, at age 10 or 11, hiking out over Banks Peninsula and camping out overnight.
I think one of the greatest privileges is to live in the place you grew up and to be happy with that. I consider myself very lucky.

 

GARY MCCORMICK

This is probably the last shot of me looking moderately happy on an outdoor experience. I was about five or six when this was taken and it was on the big family holiday of my childhood - a never-ending camping trip of the lower South Island.   

We'd been told about it two years in advance. My parents planned it for ages and my father had built a trailer that could be adapted into a mini caravan.  

We covered a lot of ground and moved around a lot, and that was part of the problem. Every time we got to a new campsite, we'd have to get the tent up.  

Me and my two brothers would all have jobs to do - holding up tent poles while Dad put up the centre pole, that sort of thing. Then we'd have to make up beds; they were these camp beds with legs that had to be forced into slots. We used to hang the coolie bin in the trees - it was supposed to stop the milk from curdling, but it never did.

After the work was done we'd be allowed to go out and wander around.  Sometimes we'd play games, because you feel obliged to play ball games on camping trips. I remember one time playing cricket and Dad whacked the ball up in the air and it landed on the car of the people in the tent next to us. This furious guy came rushing out of his tent and Dad had disappeared into the toilets, leaving us to take the rap.  

I didn't like it at all - all that living under canvas. I didn't like going to the camp bathroom or the proximity to other people. From a very early age, I always seemed to find myself slightly removed from communal-type activities. It was one of the reasons I took up surfing when I was growing up. It's a solitary activity. Plus, I've always had a real love of water - rivers and lakes, anything like that. That was an interest that probably started on that holiday. The photo reflects a certain happiness that I've always had around running water.    

It didn't help that the weather was terrible for the whole time on this camping trip. That photo must have been the one day the sun peeked out from behind the clouds. In Te Anau it actually snowed - in January. We spent the last two days in Nelson, where we had the first decent weather of the entire trip. I was just hugely relieved the holiday was over.

I haven't been camping since; it put me off for life. In fact, I've always told my children "if we go camping, Daddy will be in the motel across the road".

 

ANNA FORREST (nee SIMCIC)

(second from the right, with her Dad, Horst Simcic, and other relatives and friends) 

When I was six years old, my parents built a bach up at Kenepuru Sounds. We lived in a caravan up there while they were building it. Then, we used to go up every summer for two or three weeks.  

We'd usually go up for Christmas and take everything with us. Because of our Austrian background, we'd have a mix of a European Christmas with a big celebration and presents on Christmas Eve, and then the January kiwiana thing. There were no shops up there, so we'd take groceries and everything with us.

The car would be packed to the hilt.
I remember it always being beautiful, warm, tropical and we just lived in our togs. We also had this little motorboat. It was very small, but it fitted the family and the dog.  

Dad would wake me up at first light. The water would be smooth as glass and we'd zip off and drop off lines and catch a horde of snapper. Then we'd head home, Dad would fillet them, and they'd be straight in the pan for breakfast.

We'd easily catch four or five in a morning - you can't do that any more.  

I remember one time it was this perfect still day, not a breath of wind and stinking hot. Dad and I went way out on the boat and threw out our rods. We had four or five on the go. Then we sat back and waited. All of a sudden, all the rods started to go at once. Dad would hook the fish and hand the rod to me to wind in. We went on hooking, winding, hooking, winding and we were so excited getting the fish into the boat. Then, one fish started swimming off with the gaff in it, so Dad jumped in and went after it. I was stuck in this boat freaking out and I could just see Dad swimming off. I can't remember whether he got the fish and the gaff or not, but I do remember we went home with a beautiful haul of snapper.  

Another time, the whole family had gone out. Mum, Dad, my little brother Rob and me. It was an overcast, eerie, still day and we were sitting way out in the Sounds when we saw this huge dorsal fin. Mum and Dad told us to sit still and keep quiet. It was this big basking shark and it circled our boat, around and around and around. I was just whimpering. We were completely at its mercy.

Most days were spent mucking around down at the beach, hunting for crabs and that sort of thing. We had this fab rope swing that Dad had made us. There were two massive pine trees near the bach and Dad put this big, thick rope between them and it would swing out over the drive.  

In the evenings, we had an open-fire kind of barbecue and us kids would just be running around. We'd go up the drive with our torches and look for glow-worms. There were lots of other baches close by and other kids we would see every summer.   

We still go up there. All those years ago, Mum and Dad bought the land and built that bach. And now everyone in the family goes up there in the summer. It's a really special place.

 

TAMMY WELLS (aka THE BRISCOES LADY)

This is me and my brother, Alistair, by the boat ramp in Kaiteriteri. I was about 14 years old.

I remember the dress I'm wearing. It was bright green. My sister and I both had those dresses. My mother gave them to us and I felt utterly gorgeous in mine.  They came with turbans, and my mother would say "wear the turbans, too". We didn't want to be seen dead in them, but I absolutely adored that dress. I still have it.

We always used to rent this bach called Malta Cottage for three weeks every summer. It was wonderful, set among trees, on a slight hill above the mudflats. It was also next door to the local dump, so in the evenings you'd hear the local stray cats fighting over leftovers. Years later, the dump caught fire and Malta Cottage was burnt down, too.  
We'd usually go up on Christmas Eve. Often, Mother would stay up all night the night before sewing dresses for me and Rowena, my sister. We took the Christmas tree, all the decorations and all the presents. I remember Mother would buy boxes of Peanut Slabs to take with us. It was probably horrendously stressful for her, but as kids, you don't have any concept of how difficult it is to go on holiday.

Most days would be spent on the "tramps", as we used to call the trampolines.  I'd go down there with my girlfriends and my brother would be on the flying fox. We'd often be there into the evening, but it felt so safe - you could walk here, there, anywhere.

We used to go over to Breaker Bay swimming. It was about a 20-minute walk and we'd walk back and forth, maybe three times a day. We must have been so fit. I remember sitting on the beach, watching people learning to water-ski, and if you sat near the boat ramp, you'd hear some terrible family arguments as people were trying to back their cars down.

I learnt to water-ski one year. We used to go up the Astrolabe up by Abel Tasman with a couple of other families who were friends of ours. One of them had a boat. I loved it. We'd all go out and take a picnic lunch and go and find a beach.  

In those days, nobody had wetsuits, so you'd water-ski in your bikini. When you fell off, you'd have to quickly get your bikini organised before the boat came to pick you up.

I had just started to go out with my boyfriend, Michael, whom I'm now married to. He'd go to the Sounds for holidays with his family.

When we got home, we'd have a best-tan competition, so, when we were away, we'd use vegetable oil, cooking oil and just fry ourselves. It seems crazy now.

In the evenings, there always seemed to be parties with other families up there.  Everyone would sit around playing cards, having barbecues and so on. The parties were wonderful. As children, you had so much fun. You could race around in the dark playing hide and seek until late at night.   
It was almost a surreal time, which is just so precious.  

 

RICHARD TILL

Here I am sitting on my older sister, Janet, in the garden of my grandparents' house in Madras St. I think it could even be a Christmas Day photo. People didn't get cameras out willy nilly in those days; it was usually for a special occasion.

We'd always be over there at weekends and my grandmother would cook these big Sunday roasts. I remember she would keep a tin of fat from the roasting dish, so she'd put spoonfuls of dripping from previous roasts into the pan. The potatoes were always lovely and crisp, and all the veggies were straight from my grandfather's garden.

I enjoyed those Sunday lunches - not least for fact they had television and we didn't have one until I was 14. So, I remember I used to be allowed to watch an old movie on Sunday afternoon after lunch. It would be hot outside and the curtains would be pulled.

But I spent a lot of time in the garden. I knew it very well. As a child, it seemed much bigger than our garden, with this huge lawn. I remember the mulberry tree, which is just on the left of the picture. I have a mulberry tree myself now. Just out of shot there was a pear tree that I used to love to climb.

I remember spending a lot of time in the vege garden. I don't think I was helping. I was just sitting, watching my grandfather.  Now that I have my own vege garden, I like to pick the vegetables when they're young - small zucchinis, that sort of thing. My grandfather would have seen it as a ridiculous waste of a perfectly good marrow. He used to grow huge marrows and parsnips and these huge broad beans. I never liked them as a child and I put it down to the fact that they were grown for size.  

There was a wee well in the garden with a spring and that was always interesting. My grandfather was a mechanic and had lots of tools, so there was an old shed down the back that was a bit of mystery.  

I used to run around and play all sorts of sports. I used to play a lot by myself out in the garden. Then my grandfather would come out and hit the ball and play a bit of cricket with me.

I chose this picture because it's me and my sister. With the death of my father last year, it's just the two of us now. Obviously, we have our own families, but we're all that is left of what was the family in those days. So, there we are back in 1961-62.