Our Town

Looking out over Waipukurau from Pukeora Hill (translated as ‘Hill of Health’ from Maori) I’m reminded of just how rich in history this area is and how unaccustomed we have become to using our eyes to understand what is right under our noses. Land formation is such a fascinating story.

When I was growing up the only way into or out of Waipukurau was via the winding few kilometres of the road that snaked its way up and around the hill that is now called Pukeora Scenic Road. It was called the ‘Soldiers San’ or later simply the ‘San’ by some older few. I recall I suffered from motion sickness and I hated that small stretch of road with an absolute passion.

Travelling up it recently, we were all done in 7 mins and I got to thinking that I must have been a wuss. But no, the motion sickness was definitely real! The view from the top however is life-giving, literally. Back 1918, the hill (approx 250m above sea level) became the site on which they built a sanitorium to care for soldiers returning from WWI with respiratory illnesses.

Pukeora

In subsequent years it was redeveloped as a Home for the disabled and physically handicapped and more recently is being developed as a vineyard, winery and conventions venue together with backpacker and bed & breakfast accommodation facilities. Today the main highway on SH2 cuts a dashing wide arm sweep around the base of Pukeora Hill and the only thing that will upset the constitution is if you don’t take some time to pick up some wine from Pukeora Estate on the way passed.

Waipukurau

“Waipukurau is an abbreviation of Te-Wai-pukurau-a-Te-Rua-kuwha or ‘The water mushrooms of Te Ruakuwha’. These mushrooms (Ileodictyon cibarium) were described as having a distinctive foul smell, were native fungus and common in wooded areas and water margins. They are more commonly known as the ‘basket fungus’.

They are common in mulch and survive by decomposing dead or decaying organic material. They are more abundant in the spring and autumn months on the edges of wooded areas or where freshly-turned earth at roadsides or tracks have been cut through tree filled areas.

G. H. Cunningham (1892-1962) Mycologist

G. H. Cunningham (1892-1962), the first New Zealand-based mycologist and plant pathologist and generally regarded as the ‘Father’ of New Zealand mycology wrote, “the appearance of these latticed structures without visible means of attachment to the substratum was a potent source of mystification to the Maori.”

According to renowned enthnologist Elsdon Best, “forced to find some explanation of their mysterious appearance, and guided no doubt by their characteristic odour Maori came to the conclusion that they were tutae kehua or tutae whetu (“Faeces of ghosts or of the stars”). Cunningham observed that “the specific name (cibarius = edible) was applied to the species under the impression that the unexpanded plant was used as an article of food by the Maori but this is improbable as he considered it highly unlikely Maori would meddle with a plant of obviously supernatural origin.” His view is supported by Best who advised Cunningham that the plant was not included among those fungi considered edible by the Maori.

Purchase of the Hapuku Block

In November 1851, the purchase of the Hapuku Block, as Waipukurau was then known, was completed by Sir Donald McLean, a Land Purchase Commissioner for the Government at the time. He purchased 279,000 acres from Maori, at a cost of £4,800 pounds or approximately fourpence an acre. It was a steal.

One of the most humorously endearing memories I have of my mother had to do with fungus, the common ‘find-in-the-paddock’ sort. Conditions for mushroom growing must have been at an optimum because the paddocks were riddled with them. From the house we could see her making her way around the side of a hill, except that unlike the animated cartoon what played out over the next few minutes was not really that funny for my Mum.

I will however confess, that if you were sitting in the peanut gallery like me, it seemed very funny but trust me, NO-ONE even dared suggest a smile about what they’d seen transpire when my Mum came through the door sans her basket. What we could see but she could not, was that just around the other side of the hill was a BIG ol’ Aberdeen-Angus bull. Trust me, this was no cruiser-weight of walking beef! Compared to my Mum he was HUGE!

I’m not sure who got the biggest fright, my Mum or the bull but it became quite clear to us that grilled bacon and tomato with poached eggs were not going to be accompanied by mushrooms at breakfast the next morning. My Mum was one of six girls in a netball playing family, no bull but I added sprinter to her list of ‘things she did’ after that day! She was little but she was fast! I keep watching for the ducks, they’re coming.