Thread: When men were men

Originally Posted by gundoc

Ahh yes. Memories of steep hills, leaky rumpty huts, even rumptier bivvies, heavy Anson D-ring boots festooned with hobnails and tricounies, Mountain Mule tanker frame packs, white spirit stoves, bulky food (apart from Deb instant mashed spuds and freeze-dried peas), woollen clothing which weighed a ton when wet, an oilskin parka, a Fairydown bag, my trusty .303 and a Green River knife. Those were the days! Yeah, right. Looking back we must have been bloody mad! Still, I wouldn't have missed it for quids! Hitting civilisation after a few weeks in the hills with a pocketful of cash also conjures up a few memories! The gear available today makes us look like Neanderthals!

You forgot to add; the b.o. pong around you after weeks in the bush and how others in civilization noticed it even when you didn’t !

Seems an ok spot to throw up some sorta shelter eh..lol can get a tad damp over in the Off Topic area.

Originally Posted by bumblefoot

@Micky Duck This was my first hunting book. I devoured it. Read and re-read it continuously for a couple of years... I was on $48 a week as an apprentice butcher in 1979, and the book cost me $5 new. And; my mum hit the roof that I would spend so much money on a book! Many years later I loaned it out and it never got returned....... Forrester was my hero.........

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Yep yep all good stuff there. Rex wrote a few good chopper books and one guy well mentioned in those books would take me away into the hills for missions, scary being a whipper with him and his pilot mate as they recite where they had to ditch her there one evening or there where they lost their mate on that face one morning.
Sitting at a hut later that night you can imagine my surprise when he says, “jeez boy, I bet your old man has a lot of cool stories, imagine how many pigs and deer he’s shot over the years. We all wanted to hunt with your father and his legendary dog”…

I was at a hut named after Rex F son last evening.

Those Urewera hills have such an aura about them, spiritual and almost scary. If only they could talk…imagine.
I remember fondly as a young fella sitting in those huts, listening to dad, my poppa Des, his mate Tom or whoever it was as the bullshit flew, the Joseph Kuhtze or whiskey was consumed, the Rata fires roared, the hot-water bottles froze and the rat’s were baited with soap and aptly shot out of the hut window’s with 250’s and 270’s.

All I ever wanted to do was sleep after following those 60+ year old pricks around those Okahu hills all day but over time,as I grew all I ever wanted was to be just like them, I never was though.


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My contribution. I reckon Venison Hunters is the best book I’ve read on that era. But…

About 40 years ago I was really lucky to spend a weekend with an ex West Coast culler, Selwyn Bucknell. He is mentioned a bit in Sea of Gold by Lew Sutherland. He also was the subject of a story in the old Outdoor (i think) called Bonanza which essentially was a story about how he poached Lew Sutherland’s block. As a young fella it was a great experience. He reckoned he never hunted the big tally blocks and only averaged about 600-800 a season. Now that’s a lot of deer. He talked about some of his culling mates with great reverence - John Henham, Lew Sutherland, Jock Fisher, Johnny Cummings etc. but when I mentioned Mike Bennett he had absolutely no time for him.

A few years later I was doing possums with an ex meat hunter/ chopper shooter from Fiordland and the Coast and he was of the same opinion about Mike Bennett. Reckoned he was an absolute piece of work and once he got his piper cub license was a poacher of all his “mates” blocks. He was at Mussel Point when Cliff Eggling and Cliff Peart fenced his plane in. Reckoned Cliff Peart was one of the most generous guys he ever met but he was totally exasperated by Boneheads poaching and general attitude. If you read River of Blood and Brian Conroys books there are a couple of veiled and not so veiled references to him.

Anyway thought I’d share this. Just an opinion from a couple of guys that I met that were part of a time we will never see again.

Originally Posted by caberslash

In Scotland right after WWII there was a legendary Highland poaching gang that used a lorry kitted out with searchlights and a modified anti-aircraft Bren gun mounted on the back...

using mil surp machine guns to poach the aristocratic class's favorite spots. Love it.

I first started hunting pigs with a guy who was 58. I was 17 at the time and he was 58 (my age now!) and he seemed ancient! We'd be up at 3.30am and have a big bacon and egg breaky at his place and then drive for an hour to the property we hunted. Well that old bugger would just go and go and go.... A steady pace that never let up all day. No lunch, no water, and hunting below the ridgetops, sidling the thick heads of gullies all day. We'd usually get to the Landrover at about 4pm.

I was absolutely buggered yet he was able to keep steadily walking. Even if I was totally wrecked I could never ask him for a rest because he was 40-years older than me.... Often by mid morning I was so thirsty I'd be licking the dew off rangiora leaves. No one brought water with them in 1979-ish...

I stopped hunting with him in the end when I discovered he was a poaching old bastard.... When you asked him where we were, because I had no clue, he'd say the neighbouring station.... Even as a 17-year old I hated poachers. He taught me a lot, but couldn't help but poach neighbouring farms....

"Thread: When men were men"/ an interesting title and my initial thought was that it was about Wellington strip joints back in the 1980's.

When men were men........ and half the women were too.

Originally Posted by Kiwi Sapper

"Thread: When men were men"/ an interesting title and my initial thought was that it was about Wellington strip joints back in the 1980's.

When men were men........ and half the women were too.

Ah, the ‘Purple Onion’ back in the 70’s….

Back in the days "When men were men and wimmen were wimmen and thank god for that"

People used to say about the little remote village I come from "where men are men and women are wanted".

Originally Posted by Tahr

People used to say about the little remote village I come from "where men are men and women are wanted".

First, I stress that I AM NOT suggesting anything. BUT your "little remote village" reminded me of a T shirt I saw back in Jaffasville some years ago, emblazoned .

"Your Village called. They want their Idiot back"

Originally Posted by Finnwolf

Ah, the ‘Purple Onion’ back in the 70’s….

And "Carmen's"

Recently read 'I did it my way' by Bill Black who passed away in July last year. Tells many stories of his young meat hunting days, learning to fly, dodgy shit, scary shit and the many SAR operations he was involved with which is tallied at over 500. A good read.

Originally Posted by Kiwi Sapper

"Thread: When men were men"/ an interesting title and my initial thought was that it was about Wellington strip joints back in the 1980's.

When men were men........ and half the women were too.

Thought we were in for a recital of "Eskimo Nel" When men were men and spunk was spunk.

Originally Posted by RUMPY

Recently read 'I did it my way' by Bill Black who passed away in July last year. Tells many stories of his young meat hunting days, learning to fly, dodgy shit, scary shit and the many SAR operations he was involved with which is tallied at over 500. A good read.

Bill Black was simply amazing what he did,who he rescued etc.A wizard in my book,,only ever met him twice and that was brief.
I got to know his shooter Jimmy Kane at one stage through another ol mate who has now gone. That guy was unreal when it come to dropping deer etc from a machine. There was a party put on for Jim at one time and I recall Bill Black Giving Jimmy a huge collection of deer tusks collected over time,a gift of ivory as such,young Jimmy was almost in tears,,,they were like two peas in a pod.


More on this later eh..