Early Pākehā Presence at Lake Ōkāreka
The information presented below is drawn from The Incoming Tide: The Return of People to the Tarawera Area by J Morris Scobie, a publication prepared for the Lake Tarawera Ratepayers Association.
Benn of Ōkāreka
It is time, however, to turn attention to the land bounded by Lakes Ōkāreka, Okataina, Tarawera, Tikitapu and Rotokakahi. Under the operation of various Native Land Acts, this area, except for some small pockets, had become Crown land and was available for lease. Early in the 1890s, Herbert Robert Benn of Puddlestone Court, England, obtained this lease, thus becoming the first person to hold land on the shores of Ōkāreka and the western shore of Lake Tarawera since the 1886 eruption of the mountain. He made his home on the peninsula at Lake Ōkāreka.
As a result of what appears to have been a relatively minor misdemeanour while a student of theology at Cambridge University, he was expelled from his college and his family hurriedly bustled him out of England, allowing him sufficient funds to adopt an affluent lifestyle. He failed to make a fortune kangaroo shooting in Australia, or even as an assistant cook to a shearing gang. He reached New Zealand and befriended a family at Galatea in the Murupara district. There, he met and married a beautiful Māori girl, Ngawaka, the daughter of a Tuhoe woman and her third husband, Te Kohau. Benn built a large and spacious home at Ōkāreka, complete with large stables, well stocked with fine riding horses and ample accommodation for a groom. He laid out his property with splendid gardens and an extensive orchard of several hundred varied fruit trees. He kept a wide variety of wildlife, including peacocks, opossums, red deer and several types of ducks. Some of these were released at the request of authorities, much to the regret of many people since.
Benn was a kindly man — very popular, especially with the ladies, and a very generous host to the many who visited him from Rotorua and further afield. Hunting and fishing were popular pursuits, and his stables, with their fine mounts, were available to the many friends and visitors entertained at his home, which became an important social centre.
In 1896, when he was still only 27, his loved Ngawaka, aged 18, died of what was then called ‘consumption’. She had a sister 9 years younger, and Benn sent her to be educated at the local Rotorua convent, but sad to say, as she reached the age of 18, she also died of the same disease that had killed her sister. Benn’s last few years were made more difficult by an alcohol problem, and he finally died in 1911 at the age of 42. His request was to be buried between the sisters Ngawaka and Hīria in the Urewera cemetery on the road to Te Whaiti — the ancestral home of the two sisters. With the departure of Benn, the Ōkāreka property remained unoccupied till 1920."
As a result of what appears to have been a relatively minor misdemeanour while a student of theology at Cambridge University, he was expelled from his college and his family hurriedly bustled him out of England, allowing him sufficient funds to adopt an affluent lifestyle. He failed to make a fortune kangaroo shooting in Australia, or even as an assistant cook to a shearing gang. He reached New Zealand and befriended a family at Galatea in the Murupara district. There, he met and married a beautiful Māori girl, Ngawaka, the daughter of a Tuhoe woman and her third husband, Te Kohau. Benn built a large and spacious home at Ōkāreka, complete with large stables, well stocked with fine riding horses and ample accommodation for a groom. He laid out his property with splendid gardens and an extensive orchard of several hundred varied fruit trees. He kept a wide variety of wildlife, including peacocks, opossums, red deer and several types of ducks. Some of these were released at the request of authorities, much to the regret of many people since.
Benn was a kindly man — very popular, especially with the ladies, and a very generous host to the many who visited him from Rotorua and further afield. Hunting and fishing were popular pursuits, and his stables, with their fine mounts, were available to the many friends and visitors entertained at his home, which became an important social centre.
In 1896, when he was still only 27, his loved Ngawaka, aged 18, died of what was then called ‘consumption’. She had a sister 9 years younger, and Benn sent her to be educated at the local Rotorua convent, but sad to say, as she reached the age of 18, she also died of the same disease that had killed her sister. Benn’s last few years were made more difficult by an alcohol problem, and he finally died in 1911 at the age of 42. His request was to be buried between the sisters Ngawaka and Hīria in the Urewera cemetery on the road to Te Whaiti — the ancestral home of the two sisters. With the departure of Benn, the Ōkāreka property remained unoccupied till 1920."
The Passing of Hīria - Kai Tiaki : The Journal of the Nurses of New Zealand
Volume V, Issue 4, 1 October 1912, Page 100
Volume V, Issue 4, 1 October 1912, Page 100
After many years of nursing, one has a wide and varied experience to look back upon. I think one of the most touching deaths it has been my lot to witness was that of a beautiful young Māori girl eighteen years of age, who died of consumption. She had been adopted and brought up by an Englishman of good family and was highly educated and accomplished. To reach my destination, I travelled all day by train, stayed the night at Rotorua and was driven to Ōkāreka Lake the next day — a distance of ten miles.
We passed the Blue Lake and through exquisite bush. The beauty of Ōkāreka is indescribable. The house is on an isthmus jutting out into the lake; bush all round, and the water on either side. I found my patient very ill. Everything that money could procure was there in abundance, and she was surrounded by love and affection. Knowing the end was near, a few days later, I sent for the priest. In the evening, he arrived. Hīria was conscious, and when his ministrations were finished, she said good-bye to each one in turn, thanking her guardian for all he had done for her. Then, turning her face to the priest, she told him she was ready to go and asked him to pray for the release of her spirit. We all knelt down, and while the petition was being uttered, she passed away, leaving an expression on her face of the peace which passeth understanding. There was no lamp in the room, but the French windows were wide open, and the moonlight just touched the waters of the lake. It was a scene of almost unearthly beauty, and one never to be forgotten, the stillness at last broken by the weird cry the natives give when one of their number dies. Though legally adopted, the tribe claimed her when she died, and a three-day journey had to be completed before she was laid to rest with her own people.
MOANA.
We passed the Blue Lake and through exquisite bush. The beauty of Ōkāreka is indescribable. The house is on an isthmus jutting out into the lake; bush all round, and the water on either side. I found my patient very ill. Everything that money could procure was there in abundance, and she was surrounded by love and affection. Knowing the end was near, a few days later, I sent for the priest. In the evening, he arrived. Hīria was conscious, and when his ministrations were finished, she said good-bye to each one in turn, thanking her guardian for all he had done for her. Then, turning her face to the priest, she told him she was ready to go and asked him to pray for the release of her spirit. We all knelt down, and while the petition was being uttered, she passed away, leaving an expression on her face of the peace which passeth understanding. There was no lamp in the room, but the French windows were wide open, and the moonlight just touched the waters of the lake. It was a scene of almost unearthly beauty, and one never to be forgotten, the stillness at last broken by the weird cry the natives give when one of their number dies. Though legally adopted, the tribe claimed her when she died, and a three-day journey had to be completed before she was laid to rest with her own people.
MOANA.
Ōkāreka By Nell Trail
On the map, Lake Ōkāreka looks tiny. Fortunately, beauty is not dependent on size, for it is one of the brightest jewels in the crown of the Lakes District. What is somewhat surprising is the number of people who either haven’t been there or, if they have, it was simply “oh yes, we drove out and had a quick look the other day”
Some have driven to the tip of the peninsula, while others have even “sat on the beach... not sure which one.” And that’s it! It is strongly recommended to stop the car, open the door, shut it firmly, and then start walking. Those who can tackle a hill—well, just a steady rise—are very soon rewarded with a fascinating variety of magnificently framed pictures.
The series features a peninsula jutting out from three-quarters of the lake's width, with multicoloured, ever-changing trees and shrubs, many duplicated in the clear water. Homes are flanked by bright colours or nestled in the trees, and always, to the east, Mount Tarawera, watchful and ever-changing. If legs and limbs are reluctant climbers, try Loop Road, practically dead flat all the way, to Caughey’s, the first beach. But don’t stop there. Continuing beyond the big willow tree is a delightful path that follows the shoreline, flanked by trees and ferns, and leads to Boyes Beach.
Peace and Beauty
What better reward than sitting quietly, absorbing the peace and beauty of the perfect proportion of lake, sky and bush? Then, in another direction altogether, there’s Acacia Road along the peninsula. At the very end is a bush-clad reserve, where evidence was once found of a Māori pa, with signs of terracing and probable fortifications. In the early days, one resident discovered a good-quality Māori adze in his garden.
Another early resident, Mr. R.L. Bourne, found the following in an early issue of the Historical Review, written by Lieutenant Jones R.N., who saw “this small but exceedingly pretty lake, with the small pa of Taumaihi, picturesquely perched on the extremity of a narrow peninsula which juts out into the bosom of the lake. We here kindled a fire as a signal for a canoe; two speedily arrived... in which we embarked, and were presently engaged in a spirited race, as to which should first reach our destination.
Sails were speedily set, the natives standing with a foot on each gunwale, and spreading out their blankets to full stretch; the effect was exceedingly pretty; some of the blankets red, the others white, and all filled with the favouring breeze which quickly wafted us over the rippling surface of the lake.” Mr. Bourne explains that Lieutenant Jones was en route from the Anglican Mission house at Te Ngae to visit the Reverend Spencer at Kariri Point, Lake Tarawera.
But the most intriguing story, and a sad and romantic one it is, surrounds the very first European inhabitant of what must have been, in those days, one of the most isolated spots in the whole district, when Rotorua itself was. Still, a small tourist village, and communications were primitive. He was Herbert Robert Benn, youngest son of C.A. Benn, of Puddleston Court, Leominster, England.
Mystery
He was ultimately possessed of considerable wealth, but mystery surrounds the reason for his migration and eventual settlement in such a remote corner of the universe, surely the farthest away from his native land and his family. He either chose, or was persuaded, to leave England, apparently as a result of behaviour which today would barely merit a mention.
It seems he was expelled from his theology school in Cambridge for having a break-up party in his room! The disgrace, my dear! He was regarded as a true remittance man, although he didn't seem to have suffered as a result.
He started off in Australia, with a kangaroo shooting venture, which was financially unsuccessful, and he then became a slushie, or assistant to a shearing gang cook. He drifted to New Zealand, where he was employed by Mr Ted Doherty, a carpenter at Galatea.
Whether he then inherited wealth or had enough from his remittance is unclear. But sometime between 1901 and 1904, he leased from the Crown a considerable property and built a veranda around three sides of the house, with the south-west side glazed.
The bedrooms were there, and could only be entered from the house by going outside — an unusual design at that time.
Several Cottages
There were several farm cottages and large stables with four stalls, along with a shed for vehicles and two open attachments, likely for machinery and implements. It also contained living quarters for a groom, consisting of a bedroom and a sitting room with a fireplace. The entire property was bounded by Lakes Ōkāreka, Okataina, Tarawera, Tikitapu (Blue Lake) and Rotokakahi (Green Lake).
Herbert Benn must have been determined to live a life as near as possible to that of an English country gentleman, for he surrounded the house with extensive gardens, peacocks strutting on the lawns, and cages of exotic birds. He planted approximately 300 fruit trees — apricots, peaches, all kinds of plums, figs, mulberries, apples, cherries and lemons, and the inhabitants were certainly not short on vitamins!
An account of the area was given by Mr. John Evans, whose father took over the lease of the property in the 1920s from the Crown, to whom it had reverted after Benn's death. He makes reference to the severe nature of the thunderstorms, due to the closeness of the surrounding hills, with lightning eventually destroying all the Matipo trees. He also observed, "As Ōkāreka is in a sort of basin surrounded by hills, it gets very hot in the summer months, and the cicada, or locusts, appeared in their thousands. "Any large tree with its trunk exposed to the sun became covered with them, and the noise was such that one could not hold a conversation until moving some distance away." "Some of the best vegetables were grown in the Tarawera mud. Our father had a good garden near the orchard on No. 1 Block, and vegetables seemed to grow without any manure. "Artificial manure was not in general use in the early 1920s."
One year, he entered a collection of fruit and vegetables in the Rotorua show. They were not shown in any particular classes, but rather as a collection to let people see what could be grown in the district. "The collection was highly commended and some of the judges would not believe they had been grown in Tarawera raw mud without manure."
It would appear that despite its remoteness, life at Lake Ōkāreka must have been exceedingly pleasant. Besides spending time game hunting and travelling overseas, Herbert Benn had many friends in the area. In particular, there was Mr. James Grant, with whom he formed the Galatea Racing Club, which organised Galatea's annual race meeting, one of the year's social events.
He was reputed to be a man of great charm, accepted widely by the Māori community.
First Contacts
He was instrumental in shaping the lives of several members of the Doherty family, his first contacts in the area. Ted Doherty's wife, Ani, was a noted beauty, immensely proud of her Māori heritage, and steadfastly refusing to speak English, while Ted would not speak Māori. A strange relationship, which seemingly proved happy and lasting.
Benn was responsible for introducing their daughter, Agnes, a talented poi dancer, to Maggie Papakura, who arranged for her to perform at a Māori concert party as part of the festivities for the coronation of George V and Queen Mary in 1911. Additionally, he paid for another daughter, Millie, and a friend to travel to New South Wales, where they resided for a year. Millie became engaged to a local boy who later followed her back to New Zealand. During this period, Benn had fallen in love with a young and beautiful Māori girl, Ngawhaka.
He forsook the Rotorua social scene in which he had established a reputation as a ladies' man, and carried his bride to reign supreme in his remote and beautiful home. The relationship, although probably not legalised according to present-day standards, was recognised and accepted by the whole community, Māori and Pakeha alike.
Tragedy Struck
Within a very short time, tragedy struck, and the beautiful Ngawhaka, who incidentally was Ani Doherty's half-sister, contracted tuberculosis, and despite the loving care lavished upon her by her husband and a team of nurses, she died at age 18 in 1905, when Benn was 27.
Shortly afterwards, he took under his care Ngawhaka's sister, Hīria, then aged 9, and paid for her to be educated at the Catholic convent in Rotorua. As soon as she left the convent, he took her home to Lake Ōkāreka, presumably as his wife. Sadly, Hīria also contracted tuberculosis and died at the same age as her sister. It all must have been too much for poor Herbert Benn — he became an alcoholic.
His devotion to his young wives is illustrated in his wish to be buried between them in the remote Murumuramanga cemetery at Te Whaiti. At the time, it was one of the most isolated regions in the country, at the end of a long, dusty, winding road used by few Europeans. The three gravestones with their poignant headstones, now neglected and overgrown, bear the following inscriptions:
Some have driven to the tip of the peninsula, while others have even “sat on the beach... not sure which one.” And that’s it! It is strongly recommended to stop the car, open the door, shut it firmly, and then start walking. Those who can tackle a hill—well, just a steady rise—are very soon rewarded with a fascinating variety of magnificently framed pictures.
The series features a peninsula jutting out from three-quarters of the lake's width, with multicoloured, ever-changing trees and shrubs, many duplicated in the clear water. Homes are flanked by bright colours or nestled in the trees, and always, to the east, Mount Tarawera, watchful and ever-changing. If legs and limbs are reluctant climbers, try Loop Road, practically dead flat all the way, to Caughey’s, the first beach. But don’t stop there. Continuing beyond the big willow tree is a delightful path that follows the shoreline, flanked by trees and ferns, and leads to Boyes Beach.
Peace and Beauty
What better reward than sitting quietly, absorbing the peace and beauty of the perfect proportion of lake, sky and bush? Then, in another direction altogether, there’s Acacia Road along the peninsula. At the very end is a bush-clad reserve, where evidence was once found of a Māori pa, with signs of terracing and probable fortifications. In the early days, one resident discovered a good-quality Māori adze in his garden.
Another early resident, Mr. R.L. Bourne, found the following in an early issue of the Historical Review, written by Lieutenant Jones R.N., who saw “this small but exceedingly pretty lake, with the small pa of Taumaihi, picturesquely perched on the extremity of a narrow peninsula which juts out into the bosom of the lake. We here kindled a fire as a signal for a canoe; two speedily arrived... in which we embarked, and were presently engaged in a spirited race, as to which should first reach our destination.
Sails were speedily set, the natives standing with a foot on each gunwale, and spreading out their blankets to full stretch; the effect was exceedingly pretty; some of the blankets red, the others white, and all filled with the favouring breeze which quickly wafted us over the rippling surface of the lake.” Mr. Bourne explains that Lieutenant Jones was en route from the Anglican Mission house at Te Ngae to visit the Reverend Spencer at Kariri Point, Lake Tarawera.
But the most intriguing story, and a sad and romantic one it is, surrounds the very first European inhabitant of what must have been, in those days, one of the most isolated spots in the whole district, when Rotorua itself was. Still, a small tourist village, and communications were primitive. He was Herbert Robert Benn, youngest son of C.A. Benn, of Puddleston Court, Leominster, England.
Mystery
He was ultimately possessed of considerable wealth, but mystery surrounds the reason for his migration and eventual settlement in such a remote corner of the universe, surely the farthest away from his native land and his family. He either chose, or was persuaded, to leave England, apparently as a result of behaviour which today would barely merit a mention.
It seems he was expelled from his theology school in Cambridge for having a break-up party in his room! The disgrace, my dear! He was regarded as a true remittance man, although he didn't seem to have suffered as a result.
He started off in Australia, with a kangaroo shooting venture, which was financially unsuccessful, and he then became a slushie, or assistant to a shearing gang cook. He drifted to New Zealand, where he was employed by Mr Ted Doherty, a carpenter at Galatea.
Whether he then inherited wealth or had enough from his remittance is unclear. But sometime between 1901 and 1904, he leased from the Crown a considerable property and built a veranda around three sides of the house, with the south-west side glazed.
The bedrooms were there, and could only be entered from the house by going outside — an unusual design at that time.
Several Cottages
There were several farm cottages and large stables with four stalls, along with a shed for vehicles and two open attachments, likely for machinery and implements. It also contained living quarters for a groom, consisting of a bedroom and a sitting room with a fireplace. The entire property was bounded by Lakes Ōkāreka, Okataina, Tarawera, Tikitapu (Blue Lake) and Rotokakahi (Green Lake).
Herbert Benn must have been determined to live a life as near as possible to that of an English country gentleman, for he surrounded the house with extensive gardens, peacocks strutting on the lawns, and cages of exotic birds. He planted approximately 300 fruit trees — apricots, peaches, all kinds of plums, figs, mulberries, apples, cherries and lemons, and the inhabitants were certainly not short on vitamins!
An account of the area was given by Mr. John Evans, whose father took over the lease of the property in the 1920s from the Crown, to whom it had reverted after Benn's death. He makes reference to the severe nature of the thunderstorms, due to the closeness of the surrounding hills, with lightning eventually destroying all the Matipo trees. He also observed, "As Ōkāreka is in a sort of basin surrounded by hills, it gets very hot in the summer months, and the cicada, or locusts, appeared in their thousands. "Any large tree with its trunk exposed to the sun became covered with them, and the noise was such that one could not hold a conversation until moving some distance away." "Some of the best vegetables were grown in the Tarawera mud. Our father had a good garden near the orchard on No. 1 Block, and vegetables seemed to grow without any manure. "Artificial manure was not in general use in the early 1920s."
One year, he entered a collection of fruit and vegetables in the Rotorua show. They were not shown in any particular classes, but rather as a collection to let people see what could be grown in the district. "The collection was highly commended and some of the judges would not believe they had been grown in Tarawera raw mud without manure."
It would appear that despite its remoteness, life at Lake Ōkāreka must have been exceedingly pleasant. Besides spending time game hunting and travelling overseas, Herbert Benn had many friends in the area. In particular, there was Mr. James Grant, with whom he formed the Galatea Racing Club, which organised Galatea's annual race meeting, one of the year's social events.
He was reputed to be a man of great charm, accepted widely by the Māori community.
First Contacts
He was instrumental in shaping the lives of several members of the Doherty family, his first contacts in the area. Ted Doherty's wife, Ani, was a noted beauty, immensely proud of her Māori heritage, and steadfastly refusing to speak English, while Ted would not speak Māori. A strange relationship, which seemingly proved happy and lasting.
Benn was responsible for introducing their daughter, Agnes, a talented poi dancer, to Maggie Papakura, who arranged for her to perform at a Māori concert party as part of the festivities for the coronation of George V and Queen Mary in 1911. Additionally, he paid for another daughter, Millie, and a friend to travel to New South Wales, where they resided for a year. Millie became engaged to a local boy who later followed her back to New Zealand. During this period, Benn had fallen in love with a young and beautiful Māori girl, Ngawhaka.
He forsook the Rotorua social scene in which he had established a reputation as a ladies' man, and carried his bride to reign supreme in his remote and beautiful home. The relationship, although probably not legalised according to present-day standards, was recognised and accepted by the whole community, Māori and Pakeha alike.
Tragedy Struck
Within a very short time, tragedy struck, and the beautiful Ngawhaka, who incidentally was Ani Doherty's half-sister, contracted tuberculosis, and despite the loving care lavished upon her by her husband and a team of nurses, she died at age 18 in 1905, when Benn was 27.
Shortly afterwards, he took under his care Ngawhaka's sister, Hīria, then aged 9, and paid for her to be educated at the Catholic convent in Rotorua. As soon as she left the convent, he took her home to Lake Ōkāreka, presumably as his wife. Sadly, Hīria also contracted tuberculosis and died at the same age as her sister. It all must have been too much for poor Herbert Benn — he became an alcoholic.
His devotion to his young wives is illustrated in his wish to be buried between them in the remote Murumuramanga cemetery at Te Whaiti. At the time, it was one of the most isolated regions in the country, at the end of a long, dusty, winding road used by few Europeans. The three gravestones with their poignant headstones, now neglected and overgrown, bear the following inscriptions:
- In loving memory of Herbert Robert Benn, youngest son of C.A. Benn, Puddleston Court, Leominster, England. Born September 28th, 1869, Died Lake Ōkāreka, Rotorua, March 27, 1911. Deeply regretted by all who knew him. "He aye was leal and true." On the right of Mr. Benn, the inscription in marble:
- Ngawhaka, Hoa wahine o Herbert R. Benn. Died 9th September 1896, 18 years of age. On the left of Mr. Benn:
- Hīria, Daughter of Te Kokau and Motoi. A younger sister of Ngawhaka died on 11th May 1905, at the age of 18.
The Evans Family At Ōkāreka
The crown leasehold land at Ōkāreka, once held by Herbert Benn, had been unoccupied since his death in 1911. However, in early 1920, a family from Vauxhall, Anderson’s Bay, Dunedin, took up a 99-year lease of the block of land that extended from the Blue and Green Lakes to Lake Okataina, covering approximately 4,000 acres, with an additional 1,000 acres of Māori and reserve land available for stock. The family consisted of Henry Shirley Evans and his wife, an unmarried son, a married son and his wife, and six children — another arriving later when they were settled at Ōkāreka. They stocked the largely unfenced area with half-breed Hereford cattle and some 1200 sheep. In the first years before a proper shearing shed was built, the unmarried son and his two nephews, aged 16 and 14, did all the shearing with blade shears — and completed the task in just a week, with some very sore backs.
The four eldest children of John and Agnes Evans had to ride the 8 miles to school in Rotorua until a small school was opened at Te Mu — in the old house built by Rev. S.M. Spencer and then owned by his grandson, Cecil Way. While they usually rode their horses to school, they preferred to walk on frosty days as little sun reached the rough road they had to follow.
The family became largely self-supporting — meat came from farm animals, and when a cattle beast was killed, it was usually shared with the Way family at Te Wairoa. Farm meat was supplemented by wild pig, and venison from the large herds of red deer, which were descended from those liberated from the collection made by Herbert Benn. Sausages were among the only meats purchased to provide some variation in their diet. Although trout were plentiful and easy to catch, the family strangely had little taste for them and usually cooked them and fed them to their pigs — a practice that was abandoned when one of the pigs choked on a bone and died. The trout also provided some entertainment for the children walking to school. They tickled the fish at Lake Rotokakahi — no doubt it would be in the Te Wairoa stream as it left the lake — but fish caught in this manner were thrown back. Mrs Brent of the well-known Rotorua hotel was, however, a regular visitor who loved fishing and appreciated the catch. She disliked motors and preferred to be rowed by one of the Evans boys for her trolling. Incidentally, Laura Brent, nee Rutherford, was a cousin of Lord Rutherford of Nelson, the famous nuclear scientist. In addition to her contact with the family overfishing, Mrs Brent was also an excellent customer for the fruit from the orchard.
In addition to a well-stocked vegetable garden that produced outstanding results, the orchard consisted of approximately 300 fruit trees initially planted by Herbert Benn, including peaches, various plum varieties, apricots, mulberries, figs, apples, and lemons. There was sufficient fruit from these trees, and from the extensive areas of blackberries, for the Evans children to sell quantities to Thomson and Hills’ depot at Ngongotaha — blackberries bringing in 4 pence a pound.
In the home, conditions were difficult — almost primitive. There was no electricity; night-time lighting was provided by candle or kerosene. There was no telephone — the nearest was at Te Wairoa, some five miles away, and water had to be carried from the lake as no water was laid on to the house. For washing clothes, a copper was placed at the side of the lake, and firewood was stoked to heat the water. In their first years at Ōkāreka, the only way to reach Rotorua — apart from on foot — was by horse. As John’s wife, Agnes, did not ride, she seldom saw the town and was a virtual prisoner for months on end. Later, John procured a spring wagon from Rotorua, and with the aid of the two necessary horses, trips to Rotorua became possible. She must have found life at Ōkāreka frustrating — she had been a regular churchgoer before coming north. She was a competent pianist and missed the cultural opportunities of the southern city. “Granny Eliza Evans”, her mother-in-law, an Irishwoman from Derry, was a very different type of woman. An excellent cook and a very competent homemaker, she could neither read nor write. However, both women faced considerable hardships, and many times it was hard to make ends meet.
Another legacy of the Benn occupation of the farm was the wallabies. These were relatively new and strange to the men, and for some time, they felt that they should be a protected species. They were very worried when one was accidentally shot, mistaken for a rabbit. They later discovered that this new breed of animal could be a real pest and could multiply very rapidly. (They are still very common in the whole. It is estimated that approximately 500 of these animals were roaming freely across the farm. They would come down to the home paddocks and break in, taking the farm mares with them. Sometimes it was months later before the mares were recovered, often in foal to the wild stallions.
After the eruption of Mt. Tarawera, a few Māori ventured into the area. On Evans' day, only two were residents — Joe Edwards, a Public Works roadman who lived at Blue Lake, and one called Hona, a Ngāpuhi from the far north, who lived at Te Wairoa. Some Māori, however, visited the area for pig shooting, and one, called Abraham, became a family friend after a violent quarrel about leaving gates open. After that, he would bring his wife out to Ōkāreka — she was a guide at Whakarewarewa and was the sister of the well-known Maggie Papakura.
During their tenure of the farm, the Evans family decided to freehold one of the three blocks they held. To do so, they sold the central peninsula containing 16 acres for 1600 pounds — 100 pounds an acre or 25 pounds for a quarter-acre section. The purchaser was W.R. Wilson of the “New Zealand Herald” publishing firm. Later, Lee Bros. of Rotorua were to subdivide the peninsula into 40 sections, with prices ranging from £100 to £375 each. About the same time, Ōkāreka Lakelands Limited, an Auckland firm, obtained the area on the west side of the lake — now the central residential area of the Lake Ōkāreka settlement. They subdivided the land they received and sold approximately 100 sections. These two enterprises laid the foundation for the rapid development of Ōkāreka, first as a charming holiday retreat and later as a dormitory suburb of Rotorua.
By 1937, the Evans family had decided to leave. Their farming and hunting activities had taken them all over the land, from Ōkāreka to Okataina, and they had come to know the area thoroughly. They never regretted the years spent there, and one of the sons was reported as saying, “Tourists come to New Zealand to catch a fish and shoot a pig and deer in eight hours — that could be done in half a day without leaving the precinct of Lake Ōkāreka on any day of the week in the 1920’s.”
The four eldest children of John and Agnes Evans had to ride the 8 miles to school in Rotorua until a small school was opened at Te Mu — in the old house built by Rev. S.M. Spencer and then owned by his grandson, Cecil Way. While they usually rode their horses to school, they preferred to walk on frosty days as little sun reached the rough road they had to follow.
The family became largely self-supporting — meat came from farm animals, and when a cattle beast was killed, it was usually shared with the Way family at Te Wairoa. Farm meat was supplemented by wild pig, and venison from the large herds of red deer, which were descended from those liberated from the collection made by Herbert Benn. Sausages were among the only meats purchased to provide some variation in their diet. Although trout were plentiful and easy to catch, the family strangely had little taste for them and usually cooked them and fed them to their pigs — a practice that was abandoned when one of the pigs choked on a bone and died. The trout also provided some entertainment for the children walking to school. They tickled the fish at Lake Rotokakahi — no doubt it would be in the Te Wairoa stream as it left the lake — but fish caught in this manner were thrown back. Mrs Brent of the well-known Rotorua hotel was, however, a regular visitor who loved fishing and appreciated the catch. She disliked motors and preferred to be rowed by one of the Evans boys for her trolling. Incidentally, Laura Brent, nee Rutherford, was a cousin of Lord Rutherford of Nelson, the famous nuclear scientist. In addition to her contact with the family overfishing, Mrs Brent was also an excellent customer for the fruit from the orchard.
In addition to a well-stocked vegetable garden that produced outstanding results, the orchard consisted of approximately 300 fruit trees initially planted by Herbert Benn, including peaches, various plum varieties, apricots, mulberries, figs, apples, and lemons. There was sufficient fruit from these trees, and from the extensive areas of blackberries, for the Evans children to sell quantities to Thomson and Hills’ depot at Ngongotaha — blackberries bringing in 4 pence a pound.
In the home, conditions were difficult — almost primitive. There was no electricity; night-time lighting was provided by candle or kerosene. There was no telephone — the nearest was at Te Wairoa, some five miles away, and water had to be carried from the lake as no water was laid on to the house. For washing clothes, a copper was placed at the side of the lake, and firewood was stoked to heat the water. In their first years at Ōkāreka, the only way to reach Rotorua — apart from on foot — was by horse. As John’s wife, Agnes, did not ride, she seldom saw the town and was a virtual prisoner for months on end. Later, John procured a spring wagon from Rotorua, and with the aid of the two necessary horses, trips to Rotorua became possible. She must have found life at Ōkāreka frustrating — she had been a regular churchgoer before coming north. She was a competent pianist and missed the cultural opportunities of the southern city. “Granny Eliza Evans”, her mother-in-law, an Irishwoman from Derry, was a very different type of woman. An excellent cook and a very competent homemaker, she could neither read nor write. However, both women faced considerable hardships, and many times it was hard to make ends meet.
Another legacy of the Benn occupation of the farm was the wallabies. These were relatively new and strange to the men, and for some time, they felt that they should be a protected species. They were very worried when one was accidentally shot, mistaken for a rabbit. They later discovered that this new breed of animal could be a real pest and could multiply very rapidly. (They are still very common in the whole. It is estimated that approximately 500 of these animals were roaming freely across the farm. They would come down to the home paddocks and break in, taking the farm mares with them. Sometimes it was months later before the mares were recovered, often in foal to the wild stallions.
After the eruption of Mt. Tarawera, a few Māori ventured into the area. On Evans' day, only two were residents — Joe Edwards, a Public Works roadman who lived at Blue Lake, and one called Hona, a Ngāpuhi from the far north, who lived at Te Wairoa. Some Māori, however, visited the area for pig shooting, and one, called Abraham, became a family friend after a violent quarrel about leaving gates open. After that, he would bring his wife out to Ōkāreka — she was a guide at Whakarewarewa and was the sister of the well-known Maggie Papakura.
During their tenure of the farm, the Evans family decided to freehold one of the three blocks they held. To do so, they sold the central peninsula containing 16 acres for 1600 pounds — 100 pounds an acre or 25 pounds for a quarter-acre section. The purchaser was W.R. Wilson of the “New Zealand Herald” publishing firm. Later, Lee Bros. of Rotorua were to subdivide the peninsula into 40 sections, with prices ranging from £100 to £375 each. About the same time, Ōkāreka Lakelands Limited, an Auckland firm, obtained the area on the west side of the lake — now the central residential area of the Lake Ōkāreka settlement. They subdivided the land they received and sold approximately 100 sections. These two enterprises laid the foundation for the rapid development of Ōkāreka, first as a charming holiday retreat and later as a dormitory suburb of Rotorua.
By 1937, the Evans family had decided to leave. Their farming and hunting activities had taken them all over the land, from Ōkāreka to Okataina, and they had come to know the area thoroughly. They never regretted the years spent there, and one of the sons was reported as saying, “Tourists come to New Zealand to catch a fish and shoot a pig and deer in eight hours — that could be done in half a day without leaving the precinct of Lake Ōkāreka on any day of the week in the 1920’s.”
From Te Wairoa To The Buried Village
It is necessary to go back in time and cross the hills to trace the emergence of the present-day Buried Village. It has been noted that this site became an essential link in the Round Trip itinerary. Tourists after 1906 could rest and be refreshed at the Wairoa Accommodation House and Tea Kiosk, until a fire destroyed the building, which could be described as elegant, extensive, and elaborate. Cecil Way, the son of Emily (née Spencer) and Captain Herbert Way, rebuilt the tearooms, which remained in use until the present building was erected in 1977.
Cecil, born in 1880, married Nora Elizabeth Cawte in 1909, and they ran these tearooms for the next 20 years. For part of World War I, Way was in camp at Trentham, but because of an earlier attack of rheumatic fever, he was not considered fit for service overseas. The Ways had three daughters, and their schooling became a problem. In 1919, the family relocated from the old Spencer home at Te Mu to the tearooms. Negotiations were initiated with the education authorities to determine if a school could be established to cater to the local children. These included Way’s three daughters, Alma, Phyllis, and Sybil, as well as several of the Evans children from Okareka and the children of the lake launch master and his assistants. At the start of 1921, a small school was opened in the old house at Te Mu, where there was sufficient room to provide accommodation for the teacher (rent — ten shillings a week). This school remained open until 1931 — by this time, both the Evans and the Way children had completed their primary education. With insufficient numbers to justify its continuation, the school was closed.
Several years after the school was opened, Rev. Frederick Spencer, youngest son of Rev. Seymour and uncle of Cecil Way, decided to build a family mausoleum at Kariri Point. Details of this building find a place elsewhere in this book, and little more needs to be added except to point out that Fred was a very forceful character — Cecil even ventured to describe him as a “slavedriver”. The building task was compounded by the fact that all the materials had to be transported by boat from the Tarawera Landing to the bottom of the slope at Kariri — and in those days, the road down to the Landing was very much steeper than the present road with its hairpin bends. The building was not completed when Fred arrived with the ancestral remains in small coffins and other containers. Cecil, with the help of some of the Evans boys, was kept more than busy until five minutes of the official dedication ceremony, thus incurring the apparent displeasure of his reverend uncle because he had insufficient time to don a starched collar.
By 1929, Way had decided to quit running the tearooms and allowed a family called Muir to have a one-year trial. At the end of the year, they chose not to continue and left the district. The tearooms now remained vacant throughout 1930, apart from the occasional Māori pig-hunter who camped inside. While nothing was vandalised, the place fell into considerable disrepair. Weeds and creepers, blackberry and tutu, honeysuckle and wild roses all rapidly encroached without, and dirt and dust and even some pigeon feathers within — indicating that some of the birds had found their way into an oven. Little had been done to explore the surrounding grounds, and the village of the past slumbered on underneath its heavy coat of volcanic mud and an ever-increasing cloak of scrub.
But rapid change was in sight, for in 1931 Way sold the tearooms and the adjoining acres to Reginald Smith, an accountant with the Rotorua Daily Post. With his wife and sons, Dudley and Basil, they set to work to put the place in order. The tearooms were once again in operation, but patrons were not plentiful, as on most days only one bus called, and not many people from Rotorua relished the journey over the fairly rough, unsealed road; the road was not sealed until 1959. The cooking for the tearooms and the family was done on a wood stove — no electric power was available till 1950. The wood was collected from the flat area where the rifle range is now situated, and in pre-eruption days, it was the wheat field that supplied the grain for the village mill. Thick manuka was cut and loaded onto a sledge pulled by a horse inherited from Way. When fully laden, the horse, given a smack on the rump, took off for home while the brothers took the shortcut back, arriving at the same time as the wood supply. A razor-sharp axe cut this into lengths, one blow per block.
One of the specialities of the tearooms was Devonshire tea, consisting of homemade scones, blackberry jam (made from locally collected berries), and topped with whipped cream, a speciality that was to remain popular for many years. To supply the cream for the scones, milk was needed. That required cow, and four had been passed on from Way with the purchase of the site. But the cows required pasture, and the land around the tearooms was completely overgrown. So with the slasher and axe, the clearing started, and before long, lengths of roofing iron appeared half buried in the ground. An old iron bedstead, fragments of willow-patterned China, and a variety of household articles were uncovered. Even an old slasher blade was discovered and fitted with a new manuka handle, put to good use. These were depression days, money was scarce, and a find such as this was a bonus. Gradually, as the land was cleared, mounds appeared and soon revealed the location of buildings — houses, both Māori and Pākehā, buried by the 1866 eruption.
Dudley Smith was at this time a pharmacy apprentice and travelled each day to town with his father. After two years, it became clear that if the significant task of digging out the villages was to be undertaken, a lot more money was needed. So Dudley and his brother went off to Tokoroa to join in the planting of the pine forests that were to become a vital industry for the whole central plateau. After two years of this profitable work, they were able to return and give full-time attention to the excavation of Te Wairoa village.
When Cecil Way sold the tearooms, he and his wife had not left the area; instead, they had returned once more to the old Spencer house at Te Mu. The excavation bug, however, must have bitten him also, for he now started to dig and fossick in the site of the Spencer church at Te Mu. His efforts could have been prompted by Bishop Bennett, who had come to Te Mu in the hope of finding the bell that had been a feature of the Te Mu church's life.
Bishop, as a boy, had been one of those who had pulled the bell rope, and he thus had a very personal interest in finding the missing treasure. During his digging, Cecil came upon the massive lock and hinges of the church door and soon discovered the remains of a rusty wire rope, which, when followed, led to the bell. Another informant indicated that a water diviner in Rotorua, by the name of Wylie, was confident that he could locate the buried bell. He was taken to the Te Mu site and, using his rod, searched the area, finally indicating a spot where to dig. Within a few minutes of digging, the bell was found.
An exceptional memorial service to mark the 50th anniversary of the eruption was held on Sunday, 14th June 1936 — the nearest Sunday to the actual date of 10th June. A large gathering of Tūhourangi people, including some who had been at Te Wairoa on the fatal night, attended this vital occasion. Three of these kaumatua (elders) spoke feelingly about their memories of the church and the call of the bell. Another notable person present was Alfred Warbrick, the guide, a man closely linked to the area's history, both before and after the eruption. Bishop Bennett conducted the service. A highly emotional moment of the gathering was the actual ringing of the bell. Afterwards, the older people gathered round, touching the bell and treating it with respect and affection. It was decided that the bell should remain at Te Mu, and Cecil Way had the task of building a cairn in which the bell was to be hung. The Bishop returned a year later for a further service, this time to dedicate the structure that had been built with some of the stone from the old mill that had operated in the Te Wairoa village. It was hoped that this would be incorporated into a church to be erected on the site, and a collection was taken up to start a fund for this project. It is worth noting that the receptacle used for the collection was a treasure box owned by Mary (Mere) Hamiora, who had lived with the Spencer’s for many years as a companion to Ellen Spencer and a nanny to the children. The box was reputed to be over 170 years old.
Another year after the dedication service (1937), the bell sounded again, this time for the wedding of Cecil’s second daughter, Phyllis, and still again a year later for the christening of her first daughter — a great, great, granddaughter of Seymour and Ellen Spencer. Another year passed, and Cecil and his wife left Te Mu to live at Maketu. The bell, taken from its new “belfry,” found its way to the coast, where it was given to the Anglican church at Mt. Maunganui. It remained there till 1986 when it was “borrowed” for the centennial commemoration of the eruption. The Tūhourangi people of Whakarewarewa had built a specially carved frame to hold the bell, and at the service, it was rung by Sir Paul Reeves, the Governor-General. And a further ceremonial toll of the bell greeted the gathering of Spencer descendants held in 1988.
But to return to the Smith family at the Buried Village, where excavation work was proceeding apace with many valuable finds being uncovered — the unique Māori stone storehouse, the mill and its grinding mill stones, and more buildings used for a variety of purposes. However, it all slowed almost to a halt with the outbreak of World War II, with Dudley going off to the Army, where he became a prisoner of war in Greece. He managed to escape and rejoin the New Zealand Division. His brother Basil joined the Air Force and, sad to relate, was killed in Ceylon while serving with the R.A.F.
When Dudley returned from the war, he settled with his wife, Nora, and they took over the running of the village and the tearooms for the next ten years. Among the many tasks that had to be done was the running of the Post Office. This had been opened in 1931 and given the name "Maina" — the name of a young Māori girl who had lost her life by being swept over the Te Wairoa falls. The Smith family had pressed hard to have this name altered, as letters often went astray, being directed to Manaia in Taranaki and another of the same name on the Coromandel Peninsula. It was not till 1950 that the Post Office name was changed to "Buried Village Post Office". At that stage, it was Dudley Smith's responsibility, and with Spencer Road recently opened and people beginning to occupy sections in the new subdivision, the Post Office became an important centre. People called and picked up their mail each Monday, Wednesday and Friday — this continued for most residents till the R.D. was established in 1975. Telephones were also scarce, and most people relied on the one at the Buried Village. Incoming telegrams or phone messages had to wait till someone called, or could be entrusted to a neighbour to deliver. However, in many cases, if the message appeared urgent, Dudley would use his car and deliver it himself — a task not rewarded by any recompense from the postal authorities but very much appreciated by the residents.
However, with the arrival of a son and a daughter, and later, problems with their schooling arising, Dudley and Nora Smith decided to build a home in the Rotorua suburb of Lynmore. Dudley continued to manage the village, although it meant a trip back and forth from town, and the tearooms were leased and continued under separate management. In 1981, their daughter, Pamela, and her husband, Pat McGrath, moved into the Buried Village and gradually took over its daily operation. It was a very different village from the one Reginald Smith had purchased, or even the one Dudley found when he returned from active service. A great deal of the area had been excavated. The grounds had a lush, well-groomed covering of grass. Many extra attractions had been added to the well-stocked souvenir shop — a museum displaying many of the varied artefacts uncovered by the digging, a typical pioneer house showing an equipped kitchen and bedroom of the period and in the grounds, a deer park stocked with several species of deer, some of which visitors could hand feed. Well-maintained paths connected the various buildings, one following the course of the picturesque Te Wairoa Stream as it wound through the grounds. At the top of the falls, the path descended, and visitors were assisted down the steeper parts by the presence of solid steps with handrails. At strategic points, viewing platforms were built to obtain spectacular views of the cascade. While accepting all these improvements, Pat and Pam McGrath continue to work very hard to uncover more of the past and make the site a pleasant place.
Cecil, born in 1880, married Nora Elizabeth Cawte in 1909, and they ran these tearooms for the next 20 years. For part of World War I, Way was in camp at Trentham, but because of an earlier attack of rheumatic fever, he was not considered fit for service overseas. The Ways had three daughters, and their schooling became a problem. In 1919, the family relocated from the old Spencer home at Te Mu to the tearooms. Negotiations were initiated with the education authorities to determine if a school could be established to cater to the local children. These included Way’s three daughters, Alma, Phyllis, and Sybil, as well as several of the Evans children from Okareka and the children of the lake launch master and his assistants. At the start of 1921, a small school was opened in the old house at Te Mu, where there was sufficient room to provide accommodation for the teacher (rent — ten shillings a week). This school remained open until 1931 — by this time, both the Evans and the Way children had completed their primary education. With insufficient numbers to justify its continuation, the school was closed.
Several years after the school was opened, Rev. Frederick Spencer, youngest son of Rev. Seymour and uncle of Cecil Way, decided to build a family mausoleum at Kariri Point. Details of this building find a place elsewhere in this book, and little more needs to be added except to point out that Fred was a very forceful character — Cecil even ventured to describe him as a “slavedriver”. The building task was compounded by the fact that all the materials had to be transported by boat from the Tarawera Landing to the bottom of the slope at Kariri — and in those days, the road down to the Landing was very much steeper than the present road with its hairpin bends. The building was not completed when Fred arrived with the ancestral remains in small coffins and other containers. Cecil, with the help of some of the Evans boys, was kept more than busy until five minutes of the official dedication ceremony, thus incurring the apparent displeasure of his reverend uncle because he had insufficient time to don a starched collar.
By 1929, Way had decided to quit running the tearooms and allowed a family called Muir to have a one-year trial. At the end of the year, they chose not to continue and left the district. The tearooms now remained vacant throughout 1930, apart from the occasional Māori pig-hunter who camped inside. While nothing was vandalised, the place fell into considerable disrepair. Weeds and creepers, blackberry and tutu, honeysuckle and wild roses all rapidly encroached without, and dirt and dust and even some pigeon feathers within — indicating that some of the birds had found their way into an oven. Little had been done to explore the surrounding grounds, and the village of the past slumbered on underneath its heavy coat of volcanic mud and an ever-increasing cloak of scrub.
But rapid change was in sight, for in 1931 Way sold the tearooms and the adjoining acres to Reginald Smith, an accountant with the Rotorua Daily Post. With his wife and sons, Dudley and Basil, they set to work to put the place in order. The tearooms were once again in operation, but patrons were not plentiful, as on most days only one bus called, and not many people from Rotorua relished the journey over the fairly rough, unsealed road; the road was not sealed until 1959. The cooking for the tearooms and the family was done on a wood stove — no electric power was available till 1950. The wood was collected from the flat area where the rifle range is now situated, and in pre-eruption days, it was the wheat field that supplied the grain for the village mill. Thick manuka was cut and loaded onto a sledge pulled by a horse inherited from Way. When fully laden, the horse, given a smack on the rump, took off for home while the brothers took the shortcut back, arriving at the same time as the wood supply. A razor-sharp axe cut this into lengths, one blow per block.
One of the specialities of the tearooms was Devonshire tea, consisting of homemade scones, blackberry jam (made from locally collected berries), and topped with whipped cream, a speciality that was to remain popular for many years. To supply the cream for the scones, milk was needed. That required cow, and four had been passed on from Way with the purchase of the site. But the cows required pasture, and the land around the tearooms was completely overgrown. So with the slasher and axe, the clearing started, and before long, lengths of roofing iron appeared half buried in the ground. An old iron bedstead, fragments of willow-patterned China, and a variety of household articles were uncovered. Even an old slasher blade was discovered and fitted with a new manuka handle, put to good use. These were depression days, money was scarce, and a find such as this was a bonus. Gradually, as the land was cleared, mounds appeared and soon revealed the location of buildings — houses, both Māori and Pākehā, buried by the 1866 eruption.
Dudley Smith was at this time a pharmacy apprentice and travelled each day to town with his father. After two years, it became clear that if the significant task of digging out the villages was to be undertaken, a lot more money was needed. So Dudley and his brother went off to Tokoroa to join in the planting of the pine forests that were to become a vital industry for the whole central plateau. After two years of this profitable work, they were able to return and give full-time attention to the excavation of Te Wairoa village.
When Cecil Way sold the tearooms, he and his wife had not left the area; instead, they had returned once more to the old Spencer house at Te Mu. The excavation bug, however, must have bitten him also, for he now started to dig and fossick in the site of the Spencer church at Te Mu. His efforts could have been prompted by Bishop Bennett, who had come to Te Mu in the hope of finding the bell that had been a feature of the Te Mu church's life.
Bishop, as a boy, had been one of those who had pulled the bell rope, and he thus had a very personal interest in finding the missing treasure. During his digging, Cecil came upon the massive lock and hinges of the church door and soon discovered the remains of a rusty wire rope, which, when followed, led to the bell. Another informant indicated that a water diviner in Rotorua, by the name of Wylie, was confident that he could locate the buried bell. He was taken to the Te Mu site and, using his rod, searched the area, finally indicating a spot where to dig. Within a few minutes of digging, the bell was found.
An exceptional memorial service to mark the 50th anniversary of the eruption was held on Sunday, 14th June 1936 — the nearest Sunday to the actual date of 10th June. A large gathering of Tūhourangi people, including some who had been at Te Wairoa on the fatal night, attended this vital occasion. Three of these kaumatua (elders) spoke feelingly about their memories of the church and the call of the bell. Another notable person present was Alfred Warbrick, the guide, a man closely linked to the area's history, both before and after the eruption. Bishop Bennett conducted the service. A highly emotional moment of the gathering was the actual ringing of the bell. Afterwards, the older people gathered round, touching the bell and treating it with respect and affection. It was decided that the bell should remain at Te Mu, and Cecil Way had the task of building a cairn in which the bell was to be hung. The Bishop returned a year later for a further service, this time to dedicate the structure that had been built with some of the stone from the old mill that had operated in the Te Wairoa village. It was hoped that this would be incorporated into a church to be erected on the site, and a collection was taken up to start a fund for this project. It is worth noting that the receptacle used for the collection was a treasure box owned by Mary (Mere) Hamiora, who had lived with the Spencer’s for many years as a companion to Ellen Spencer and a nanny to the children. The box was reputed to be over 170 years old.
Another year after the dedication service (1937), the bell sounded again, this time for the wedding of Cecil’s second daughter, Phyllis, and still again a year later for the christening of her first daughter — a great, great, granddaughter of Seymour and Ellen Spencer. Another year passed, and Cecil and his wife left Te Mu to live at Maketu. The bell, taken from its new “belfry,” found its way to the coast, where it was given to the Anglican church at Mt. Maunganui. It remained there till 1986 when it was “borrowed” for the centennial commemoration of the eruption. The Tūhourangi people of Whakarewarewa had built a specially carved frame to hold the bell, and at the service, it was rung by Sir Paul Reeves, the Governor-General. And a further ceremonial toll of the bell greeted the gathering of Spencer descendants held in 1988.
But to return to the Smith family at the Buried Village, where excavation work was proceeding apace with many valuable finds being uncovered — the unique Māori stone storehouse, the mill and its grinding mill stones, and more buildings used for a variety of purposes. However, it all slowed almost to a halt with the outbreak of World War II, with Dudley going off to the Army, where he became a prisoner of war in Greece. He managed to escape and rejoin the New Zealand Division. His brother Basil joined the Air Force and, sad to relate, was killed in Ceylon while serving with the R.A.F.
When Dudley returned from the war, he settled with his wife, Nora, and they took over the running of the village and the tearooms for the next ten years. Among the many tasks that had to be done was the running of the Post Office. This had been opened in 1931 and given the name "Maina" — the name of a young Māori girl who had lost her life by being swept over the Te Wairoa falls. The Smith family had pressed hard to have this name altered, as letters often went astray, being directed to Manaia in Taranaki and another of the same name on the Coromandel Peninsula. It was not till 1950 that the Post Office name was changed to "Buried Village Post Office". At that stage, it was Dudley Smith's responsibility, and with Spencer Road recently opened and people beginning to occupy sections in the new subdivision, the Post Office became an important centre. People called and picked up their mail each Monday, Wednesday and Friday — this continued for most residents till the R.D. was established in 1975. Telephones were also scarce, and most people relied on the one at the Buried Village. Incoming telegrams or phone messages had to wait till someone called, or could be entrusted to a neighbour to deliver. However, in many cases, if the message appeared urgent, Dudley would use his car and deliver it himself — a task not rewarded by any recompense from the postal authorities but very much appreciated by the residents.
However, with the arrival of a son and a daughter, and later, problems with their schooling arising, Dudley and Nora Smith decided to build a home in the Rotorua suburb of Lynmore. Dudley continued to manage the village, although it meant a trip back and forth from town, and the tearooms were leased and continued under separate management. In 1981, their daughter, Pamela, and her husband, Pat McGrath, moved into the Buried Village and gradually took over its daily operation. It was a very different village from the one Reginald Smith had purchased, or even the one Dudley found when he returned from active service. A great deal of the area had been excavated. The grounds had a lush, well-groomed covering of grass. Many extra attractions had been added to the well-stocked souvenir shop — a museum displaying many of the varied artefacts uncovered by the digging, a typical pioneer house showing an equipped kitchen and bedroom of the period and in the grounds, a deer park stocked with several species of deer, some of which visitors could hand feed. Well-maintained paths connected the various buildings, one following the course of the picturesque Te Wairoa Stream as it wound through the grounds. At the top of the falls, the path descended, and visitors were assisted down the steeper parts by the presence of solid steps with handrails. At strategic points, viewing platforms were built to obtain spectacular views of the cascade. While accepting all these improvements, Pat and Pam McGrath continue to work very hard to uncover more of the past and make the site a pleasant place.
The Playne’s of Ōkāreka
The new occupant of the Ōkāreka block was very different from the previous Evans owners. He was born at the heyday of the British Empire when the “colonies” afforded golden opportunities to the energetic and enterprising men of means and vision — men of the ilk of Cecil Rhodes (in fact, he knew Rhodes personally).
Somerset Playne, a man of unique qualities, was born at Minchinhampton, Gloucestershire, and educated at Clifton & St. Edward's, Oxford. His family, granted a coat of arms by Elizabeth I, had a long tradition of service. Somerset Playne's extensive travels and interest in the industry and agriculture of the British Empire's component colonies set him apart. He worked in British East Africa, Uganda, the Cape, and the Orange Free State, writing comprehensively about their economies.
He then turned his attention to New Zealand and came to regard it as having the greatest potential for significant growth. He thoroughly researched his material, and the result was a large, leather-bound volume, finely printed, entitled “New Zealand — Aotearoa — its history, commerce, and industrial resources.” It was published in London in 1910. The book resulted from a considerable period of residence and study in New Zealand, and after its publication, he continued to visit the country.
On one of these visits in 1916, he married Lucy-May Standidge of Ongaonga in southern Hawkes Bay. They left New Zealand and, in 1918, were in Barrackpore, near Calcutta, where a son, Nathanael, was born. Two years later, they returned to England and remained there for the next 17 years.
In April 1937, the family arrived in New Zealand and acquired the Ōkāreka property, which spanned approximately 4,000 acres, comprising two blocks of Crown lease and one freehold. The peninsula had already been sold. After a brief period, Somerset Playne and his wife returned to England, leaving Nat to manage the farm with a manager. In September 1939, the manager gave notice, and he had to manage the property from then on, except for a 20-month period away on active service. However, in 1940, the parents returned to this country and decided to settle on the Ōkāreka Estate.
A year earlier — in 1939 — 1,000 acres of the property had been sold to Ronald Alexander Miller — another British-born settler. He was a man of good education, and it appears that he had considerable resources remitted to him from the U.K. The block he acquired included the northern end of the western shore of Lake Tarawera — from about what is now Cliff Road to the present end of Spencer Road. He retained the lakeside strip but sold most of the remainder of his purchase.
Another area that was not included in the Ōkāreka Estate was the land around Waitangi Bay on Lake Tarawera. This was the site of a long-established Māori village, which was still occupied at the time of the Mt. Tarawera eruption — one Māori man, called Te Hoe, being a casualty.
In the mid-1930s, extensive negotiations took place between Sir Reuport Clarke of Melbourne, Australia, and the multiple Māori owners of the Waitangi land. This consisted of all the land fringing the bay from the two headlands and ran back up the valley, which became quite steep beyond the point where the present road crosses. Sir Reuport was finally successful in gaining ownership of this desirable property, for the benefit of his wife, who, like others of the family, was a very keen trout fisherwoman.
She endeavoured to visit her New Zealand property each year for the outstanding fishing that was available at that time — fishing from the stream mouth just at her “front door.” After Sir Reuport died, she later re-married and became Lady Bective — subsequently becoming the Marchioness of Headfort, of Headfort House, County Meath, Eire. When World War 2 broke out, passage by ship became difficult. However, when Somerset Playne suggested selling the property, she refused, as she wished to retain it for her son. She did, however, offer him first refusal if she decided to sell. Her son, however, was killed in the war, and Somerset Playne had died, so Mr Harold Thomas of Auckland was successful in obtaining the property. (He was a prominent businessman and an ardent Rotarian and was the only New Zealander ever to become World President of Rotary International.)
The Hamilton Land Sales Committee were asked to approve the sale at a meeting in Rotorua. They questioned the agreed price of £ 1,250 for the property, when the Government valuation was only £655. However, it was pointed out that the construction of the access road, to be built at a cost of between £2,000 and £3,000, with 1/9th of the share to be borne by the buyer, would justify the agreed price. It was pointed out that Miller had sold some sections for £200, and as this land amounted to over 55 acres, the price was fair. The committee finally approved the sale.
The Thomas family built a small cottage at the lake’s edge, bringing the necessary materials by boat from the Tarawera Landing. It had the Waitangi Stream providing a beautiful waterfall in the bush at the edge of their back lawn, and then flowing out into the lake in a curve that circled their newly built cottage. This building was later shifted in about 1954 to the southern headland of the bay and was extended by Thomas’s daughter, Dorothy and her husband, Des Stewart, an Auckland chartered accountant. Meanwhile, a new house was built on the site of the removed cottage.
In 1969, the Waitangi house and the land on the lake side of the road were sold to the present owner, Mr John Ward, while some large residential sections, each over two acres, were sold. The area on the steep side of the road had been planted in pines and was retained as a Thomas family trust under the name of Waitangi Forests Limited.
In 1944, Somerset Playne died and was buried in newly consecrated ground duly registered as a burial ground just inside the entrance to the Ōkāreka Estate. His son was now in complete control and faced considerable problems. He realised that, over the 20 years of farming, the Evans family could only be classified as subsistence farmers. There was little surplus generated to reinvest in development. For the farm to prosper, it required a substantial amount of capital to freehold the leasehold areas and develop the farm through clearing scrub, providing adequate fencing, increasing fertility with fertilisers, and improving the quality of the stock. The selected strategy was to subdivide the land on the western shore of Lake Tarawera into quarter-acre sections and make these available to the public. It was considered that these would have a broad appeal as holiday homes, and since Lake Tarawera had an excellent reputation as a fishing lake, both for the quantity of fish available and for the fact that it was possible to obtain a trophy fish that could be mounted and proudly displayed.
This project required the construction of a road from the Tarawera Landing just beyond the Buried Village. Survey services were scarce and difficult to obtain; however, the project survey was undertaken by F.A. Gainsford in 1946. During the year, a Wellington firm of surveyors, Robinson, and Arthurs, took over the task and completed the work. Nat Playne spent that year obtaining the requested authorisations to conduct the project. The Rotorua County Council realised that a subdivision producing several hundred residential sections would result in a significantly increased rate return to the Council, and was thus happy to allow the project to proceed. There were four pockets of Māori-owned land along the western shore of Lake Tarawera. The first ran from the shores of Kotukutuku Bay, near the Punaroa Landing. The second was on Kariri Point, where Spencer had established his first mission, and had long been a Māori village with a defended pa. The third section was a narrow strip of land that followed the shoreline along Te Karamea Bay just north of Waitangi Bay and Te Miro Point. The last one was at the very end of Spencer Road and extended from Tarawera to Okataina. A road, as proposed, would provide Māori owners with land access to these areas, which were previously only accessible by boat. Accordingly, the Māori owners supported the roading project. Two others in favour of the proposed road were Ron Miller, who had lost access to his property along Tarawera. This route came around the back of Lake Ōkāreka, linking up with the Lake Ōkāreka Loop Road, known as Millers Road, and part of it is still in use. His loss of access occurred when he sold the majority of the 1,000 acres he had purchased from Somerset Playne. Harold Thomas of Waitangi Bay was in a similar position, relying on a boat for access. Some opposition came from the Government in Wellington, but this was finally overcome, and authority was granted to allow the subdivision of the western shore of Tarawera and the construction of an access road.
Playne, Miller, and Thomas met and decided that the new road would be named after Rev. S.M. Spencer, a pioneer missionary, and that they should now proceed. It was agreed that the cost should be shared, with Playne 5/9th, Miller 3/9th, and Thomas 1/9th. Additionally, it was decided that Miller should be employed to construct the road, given his ownership of a suitable bulldozer.
The Rotorua County Council decided to form the first part of the road from the point where it left the Tarawera Landing and gave the work to Ron Miller. He started work on 27 January 1947, but struck considerable difficulty with the first major watercourse that crossed the road. Following an inspection by the County engineer, Miller was instructed to halt work, and his employment with the County was subsequently terminated. He then approached Playne and Thomas and suggested that he should resume the road construction further along the proposed route. They refused, and Miller was left to work only on the section of roading through his property (north of about Cliff Road).
Playne now obtained the services of George Gilltrap, who possessed a bulldozer and was prepared to join Playne in constructing the road. (Gilltrap was later to acquire and develop considerable property in Rotorua — both in the business area and in the early days of Old Taupo Road — a locality that was to become the city’s main industrial centre. In 1955, he opened a museum of vintage cars, including the famous 1904 Daracq “Genevieve” which appeared in the British film of that name.)
Playne arranged for the County to supply and install the pipes for the culverts and carry out any blasting that would be required from time to time as the work progressed. The partners would meet the cost of both materials and labour provided by the Council. He found the County staff and Council members most cooperative throughout the operation.
Playne joined Gilltrap on the formation work using a small machine that he had brought over from the farm at Lake Ōkāreka. It proved to be quite inadequate for the job, and a much heavier machine was ordered through the Rotorua branch of a well-known Christchurch firm. It was not a new machine and was due for a complete overhaul in the Christchurch workshops before being shipped north. A cash payment in advance was demanded for the machine, and the delivery date was fixed for 31 March 1947. This date passed with no machine in sight, and on enquiring, he was told that the new ring gear had not arrived. April passed into June, and still no delivery was forthcoming. Playne, now very frustrated with the expensive delay, suggested that it be sent north without the ring gear, but was informed that this was impossible. When July arrived without the machine's arrival, pressure was put on the firm, and the machine was finally sent north, without the much-discussed ring gear. This was later obtained and fitted locally.
Playne was now able to join Gilltrap, and work progressed much more speedily. The hard fill to surface the road was obtained from the lake verge in a reserve near the Tarawera landing by a contractor called Young, who had a heavy vehicle capable of handling the required loads. A County grader was used to level the road. Some questions were raised about using a reserve for this purpose, but when officials came out to examine the work, they were very pleased to see that it resulted in clearing away unwanted scrub and gorse.
On October 28th, the County engineer inspected the road and expressed his satisfaction with the completed earthworks. Some culverts were still to be put in by the County staff. A celebration was held at Kariri Bay, attended by all who had worked on the road, and Ron Miller from his area also participated. From December 9th to 16th, further work was undertaken to improve the surface, utilising two tractors. In January 1948, additional work was required on the uphill slope leading north from the Waitangi entrance. In the meantime, Ron Miller had been working on his section of the road and was nearing completion when the Playne section was finished.
Approximate distances of roads constructed were — Playne 200 chains (2½ miles) and Miller 120 chains (1½ miles). Playne’s estimate of the cost had been £12.10 a chain, but it finally worked out to be £18.18, making a total of £4,855. Playne and Miller were both responsible for maintaining the road, which required constant attention. Pumice is particularly challenging to maintain in wet weather, especially during heavy downpours.
The maintenance work continued till November 1949, when members of the Rotorua County Council came out and inspected the road. The work met with their approval and was duly resolved — the Council took responsibility for what became a public road. A year later, Miller’s section was similarly treated, and thus all of Spencer Road became a public highway.
The trickle of people into the area, starting 13 years before the turn of the century, had steadily increased over the years. Now, some 60 years after the eruption, the tide became a flood. Many sections were available for purchase at Lake Ōkāreka, both on the peninsula and in what is now the main settlement. They were being sold rapidly to those who wished to build holiday homes, but there was a start on establishing permanent residences. This trend has continued to the present day, with permanent residents far outnumbering the holiday homes. By 1952, the store was in business. The Ōkāreka hall was a significant step forward for the community — built by locally raised funds and voluntary labour in 1958, it has served its community very well. Progress has continued throughout the years since, adding amenities such as a modern telephone exchange and a fine home for a highly active volunteer fire unit.
It is interesting to note the effects of the Tarawera subdivision on the Ōkāreka Estate. The project transformed an undeveloped farm into a well-organised one, complete with adequate fencing, and its fertility improved (it boasts the first farm airstrip in the Bay of Plenty region). It has been restocked with high-grade sheep and cattle, and well-maintained buildings meet the needs of a modern undertaking. The charming main brick homestead is designed for gracious living and commands superb views of the lake and rolling, groomed farmland. It is the home of Mr and Mrs Nat Playne — they were married in 1956 and have reared three children on this fine property. For them, the subdivision has been fully justified.
As for the Millers, who built a home at the end of the peninsula that separates the main lake from the Otumutu Lagoon — now the site occupied by “Solitaire Lodge” — they will be remembered for many things. Both Ronnie and his wife, Gerry, were “characters” and are not likely to be forgotten by all who knew them. However, there is Miller Road at Ōkāreka and Ronald and Alexander Roads at Tarawera, named, of course, for Ronald Alexander Miller. And shortly before her death, Gerry donated an area of some acres of fine bush to be designated “Millers’ Bush.” It lies behind the houses in the Otumutu Lagoon area and is a valuable scenic reserve.
And the flood would spread to Tarawera with the availability of some 400 sections. Like Ōkāreka, the early purchasers had a holiday home in mind, and the permanent residents were much slower to appear. Twenty years later (1970), there was still only a handful of permanents, mainly retired people. It is interesting to note that among the very first purchasers of sections in both the Playne and Miller subdivisions were members of the Donald family. They had a long association with Tarawera, dating back to before the Second World War, when they were able to occupy land on the flat in the area known as “the orchard” in the Tarawera Landing area. They acquired buildings that were relocated to the site and utilised the area for hunting and fishing, which proved to be rewarding activities. Various members of this family still have properties at Tarawera.
From 1970 on, progress was rapid at Tarawera. In 1972, there were fewer than fifteen permanent residents wishing to obtain the advantages of rural mail delivery, which was insufficient to justify one. By 1975, this had changed, and the R.M.D. was established, serving approximately 140 households today. No longer is the population only the retired — it is a young family population with a large school bus filled to overflowing, and an extra one will soon be required.
Is it full tide yet? The answer must be an emphatic "NO" — the tide continues to rise. Like Ōkāreka, Tarawera has its home for a busy fire unit — a community hall may not be far away in the future. And a fine mix of people continues to come in, enriching the quality of life of a lively and exciting community. A fine blend of people continues to arrive, enhancing the quality of life in.
Somerset Playne, a man of unique qualities, was born at Minchinhampton, Gloucestershire, and educated at Clifton & St. Edward's, Oxford. His family, granted a coat of arms by Elizabeth I, had a long tradition of service. Somerset Playne's extensive travels and interest in the industry and agriculture of the British Empire's component colonies set him apart. He worked in British East Africa, Uganda, the Cape, and the Orange Free State, writing comprehensively about their economies.
He then turned his attention to New Zealand and came to regard it as having the greatest potential for significant growth. He thoroughly researched his material, and the result was a large, leather-bound volume, finely printed, entitled “New Zealand — Aotearoa — its history, commerce, and industrial resources.” It was published in London in 1910. The book resulted from a considerable period of residence and study in New Zealand, and after its publication, he continued to visit the country.
On one of these visits in 1916, he married Lucy-May Standidge of Ongaonga in southern Hawkes Bay. They left New Zealand and, in 1918, were in Barrackpore, near Calcutta, where a son, Nathanael, was born. Two years later, they returned to England and remained there for the next 17 years.
In April 1937, the family arrived in New Zealand and acquired the Ōkāreka property, which spanned approximately 4,000 acres, comprising two blocks of Crown lease and one freehold. The peninsula had already been sold. After a brief period, Somerset Playne and his wife returned to England, leaving Nat to manage the farm with a manager. In September 1939, the manager gave notice, and he had to manage the property from then on, except for a 20-month period away on active service. However, in 1940, the parents returned to this country and decided to settle on the Ōkāreka Estate.
A year earlier — in 1939 — 1,000 acres of the property had been sold to Ronald Alexander Miller — another British-born settler. He was a man of good education, and it appears that he had considerable resources remitted to him from the U.K. The block he acquired included the northern end of the western shore of Lake Tarawera — from about what is now Cliff Road to the present end of Spencer Road. He retained the lakeside strip but sold most of the remainder of his purchase.
Another area that was not included in the Ōkāreka Estate was the land around Waitangi Bay on Lake Tarawera. This was the site of a long-established Māori village, which was still occupied at the time of the Mt. Tarawera eruption — one Māori man, called Te Hoe, being a casualty.
In the mid-1930s, extensive negotiations took place between Sir Reuport Clarke of Melbourne, Australia, and the multiple Māori owners of the Waitangi land. This consisted of all the land fringing the bay from the two headlands and ran back up the valley, which became quite steep beyond the point where the present road crosses. Sir Reuport was finally successful in gaining ownership of this desirable property, for the benefit of his wife, who, like others of the family, was a very keen trout fisherwoman.
She endeavoured to visit her New Zealand property each year for the outstanding fishing that was available at that time — fishing from the stream mouth just at her “front door.” After Sir Reuport died, she later re-married and became Lady Bective — subsequently becoming the Marchioness of Headfort, of Headfort House, County Meath, Eire. When World War 2 broke out, passage by ship became difficult. However, when Somerset Playne suggested selling the property, she refused, as she wished to retain it for her son. She did, however, offer him first refusal if she decided to sell. Her son, however, was killed in the war, and Somerset Playne had died, so Mr Harold Thomas of Auckland was successful in obtaining the property. (He was a prominent businessman and an ardent Rotarian and was the only New Zealander ever to become World President of Rotary International.)
The Hamilton Land Sales Committee were asked to approve the sale at a meeting in Rotorua. They questioned the agreed price of £ 1,250 for the property, when the Government valuation was only £655. However, it was pointed out that the construction of the access road, to be built at a cost of between £2,000 and £3,000, with 1/9th of the share to be borne by the buyer, would justify the agreed price. It was pointed out that Miller had sold some sections for £200, and as this land amounted to over 55 acres, the price was fair. The committee finally approved the sale.
The Thomas family built a small cottage at the lake’s edge, bringing the necessary materials by boat from the Tarawera Landing. It had the Waitangi Stream providing a beautiful waterfall in the bush at the edge of their back lawn, and then flowing out into the lake in a curve that circled their newly built cottage. This building was later shifted in about 1954 to the southern headland of the bay and was extended by Thomas’s daughter, Dorothy and her husband, Des Stewart, an Auckland chartered accountant. Meanwhile, a new house was built on the site of the removed cottage.
In 1969, the Waitangi house and the land on the lake side of the road were sold to the present owner, Mr John Ward, while some large residential sections, each over two acres, were sold. The area on the steep side of the road had been planted in pines and was retained as a Thomas family trust under the name of Waitangi Forests Limited.
In 1944, Somerset Playne died and was buried in newly consecrated ground duly registered as a burial ground just inside the entrance to the Ōkāreka Estate. His son was now in complete control and faced considerable problems. He realised that, over the 20 years of farming, the Evans family could only be classified as subsistence farmers. There was little surplus generated to reinvest in development. For the farm to prosper, it required a substantial amount of capital to freehold the leasehold areas and develop the farm through clearing scrub, providing adequate fencing, increasing fertility with fertilisers, and improving the quality of the stock. The selected strategy was to subdivide the land on the western shore of Lake Tarawera into quarter-acre sections and make these available to the public. It was considered that these would have a broad appeal as holiday homes, and since Lake Tarawera had an excellent reputation as a fishing lake, both for the quantity of fish available and for the fact that it was possible to obtain a trophy fish that could be mounted and proudly displayed.
This project required the construction of a road from the Tarawera Landing just beyond the Buried Village. Survey services were scarce and difficult to obtain; however, the project survey was undertaken by F.A. Gainsford in 1946. During the year, a Wellington firm of surveyors, Robinson, and Arthurs, took over the task and completed the work. Nat Playne spent that year obtaining the requested authorisations to conduct the project. The Rotorua County Council realised that a subdivision producing several hundred residential sections would result in a significantly increased rate return to the Council, and was thus happy to allow the project to proceed. There were four pockets of Māori-owned land along the western shore of Lake Tarawera. The first ran from the shores of Kotukutuku Bay, near the Punaroa Landing. The second was on Kariri Point, where Spencer had established his first mission, and had long been a Māori village with a defended pa. The third section was a narrow strip of land that followed the shoreline along Te Karamea Bay just north of Waitangi Bay and Te Miro Point. The last one was at the very end of Spencer Road and extended from Tarawera to Okataina. A road, as proposed, would provide Māori owners with land access to these areas, which were previously only accessible by boat. Accordingly, the Māori owners supported the roading project. Two others in favour of the proposed road were Ron Miller, who had lost access to his property along Tarawera. This route came around the back of Lake Ōkāreka, linking up with the Lake Ōkāreka Loop Road, known as Millers Road, and part of it is still in use. His loss of access occurred when he sold the majority of the 1,000 acres he had purchased from Somerset Playne. Harold Thomas of Waitangi Bay was in a similar position, relying on a boat for access. Some opposition came from the Government in Wellington, but this was finally overcome, and authority was granted to allow the subdivision of the western shore of Tarawera and the construction of an access road.
Playne, Miller, and Thomas met and decided that the new road would be named after Rev. S.M. Spencer, a pioneer missionary, and that they should now proceed. It was agreed that the cost should be shared, with Playne 5/9th, Miller 3/9th, and Thomas 1/9th. Additionally, it was decided that Miller should be employed to construct the road, given his ownership of a suitable bulldozer.
The Rotorua County Council decided to form the first part of the road from the point where it left the Tarawera Landing and gave the work to Ron Miller. He started work on 27 January 1947, but struck considerable difficulty with the first major watercourse that crossed the road. Following an inspection by the County engineer, Miller was instructed to halt work, and his employment with the County was subsequently terminated. He then approached Playne and Thomas and suggested that he should resume the road construction further along the proposed route. They refused, and Miller was left to work only on the section of roading through his property (north of about Cliff Road).
Playne now obtained the services of George Gilltrap, who possessed a bulldozer and was prepared to join Playne in constructing the road. (Gilltrap was later to acquire and develop considerable property in Rotorua — both in the business area and in the early days of Old Taupo Road — a locality that was to become the city’s main industrial centre. In 1955, he opened a museum of vintage cars, including the famous 1904 Daracq “Genevieve” which appeared in the British film of that name.)
Playne arranged for the County to supply and install the pipes for the culverts and carry out any blasting that would be required from time to time as the work progressed. The partners would meet the cost of both materials and labour provided by the Council. He found the County staff and Council members most cooperative throughout the operation.
Playne joined Gilltrap on the formation work using a small machine that he had brought over from the farm at Lake Ōkāreka. It proved to be quite inadequate for the job, and a much heavier machine was ordered through the Rotorua branch of a well-known Christchurch firm. It was not a new machine and was due for a complete overhaul in the Christchurch workshops before being shipped north. A cash payment in advance was demanded for the machine, and the delivery date was fixed for 31 March 1947. This date passed with no machine in sight, and on enquiring, he was told that the new ring gear had not arrived. April passed into June, and still no delivery was forthcoming. Playne, now very frustrated with the expensive delay, suggested that it be sent north without the ring gear, but was informed that this was impossible. When July arrived without the machine's arrival, pressure was put on the firm, and the machine was finally sent north, without the much-discussed ring gear. This was later obtained and fitted locally.
Playne was now able to join Gilltrap, and work progressed much more speedily. The hard fill to surface the road was obtained from the lake verge in a reserve near the Tarawera landing by a contractor called Young, who had a heavy vehicle capable of handling the required loads. A County grader was used to level the road. Some questions were raised about using a reserve for this purpose, but when officials came out to examine the work, they were very pleased to see that it resulted in clearing away unwanted scrub and gorse.
On October 28th, the County engineer inspected the road and expressed his satisfaction with the completed earthworks. Some culverts were still to be put in by the County staff. A celebration was held at Kariri Bay, attended by all who had worked on the road, and Ron Miller from his area also participated. From December 9th to 16th, further work was undertaken to improve the surface, utilising two tractors. In January 1948, additional work was required on the uphill slope leading north from the Waitangi entrance. In the meantime, Ron Miller had been working on his section of the road and was nearing completion when the Playne section was finished.
Approximate distances of roads constructed were — Playne 200 chains (2½ miles) and Miller 120 chains (1½ miles). Playne’s estimate of the cost had been £12.10 a chain, but it finally worked out to be £18.18, making a total of £4,855. Playne and Miller were both responsible for maintaining the road, which required constant attention. Pumice is particularly challenging to maintain in wet weather, especially during heavy downpours.
The maintenance work continued till November 1949, when members of the Rotorua County Council came out and inspected the road. The work met with their approval and was duly resolved — the Council took responsibility for what became a public road. A year later, Miller’s section was similarly treated, and thus all of Spencer Road became a public highway.
The trickle of people into the area, starting 13 years before the turn of the century, had steadily increased over the years. Now, some 60 years after the eruption, the tide became a flood. Many sections were available for purchase at Lake Ōkāreka, both on the peninsula and in what is now the main settlement. They were being sold rapidly to those who wished to build holiday homes, but there was a start on establishing permanent residences. This trend has continued to the present day, with permanent residents far outnumbering the holiday homes. By 1952, the store was in business. The Ōkāreka hall was a significant step forward for the community — built by locally raised funds and voluntary labour in 1958, it has served its community very well. Progress has continued throughout the years since, adding amenities such as a modern telephone exchange and a fine home for a highly active volunteer fire unit.
It is interesting to note the effects of the Tarawera subdivision on the Ōkāreka Estate. The project transformed an undeveloped farm into a well-organised one, complete with adequate fencing, and its fertility improved (it boasts the first farm airstrip in the Bay of Plenty region). It has been restocked with high-grade sheep and cattle, and well-maintained buildings meet the needs of a modern undertaking. The charming main brick homestead is designed for gracious living and commands superb views of the lake and rolling, groomed farmland. It is the home of Mr and Mrs Nat Playne — they were married in 1956 and have reared three children on this fine property. For them, the subdivision has been fully justified.
As for the Millers, who built a home at the end of the peninsula that separates the main lake from the Otumutu Lagoon — now the site occupied by “Solitaire Lodge” — they will be remembered for many things. Both Ronnie and his wife, Gerry, were “characters” and are not likely to be forgotten by all who knew them. However, there is Miller Road at Ōkāreka and Ronald and Alexander Roads at Tarawera, named, of course, for Ronald Alexander Miller. And shortly before her death, Gerry donated an area of some acres of fine bush to be designated “Millers’ Bush.” It lies behind the houses in the Otumutu Lagoon area and is a valuable scenic reserve.
And the flood would spread to Tarawera with the availability of some 400 sections. Like Ōkāreka, the early purchasers had a holiday home in mind, and the permanent residents were much slower to appear. Twenty years later (1970), there was still only a handful of permanents, mainly retired people. It is interesting to note that among the very first purchasers of sections in both the Playne and Miller subdivisions were members of the Donald family. They had a long association with Tarawera, dating back to before the Second World War, when they were able to occupy land on the flat in the area known as “the orchard” in the Tarawera Landing area. They acquired buildings that were relocated to the site and utilised the area for hunting and fishing, which proved to be rewarding activities. Various members of this family still have properties at Tarawera.
From 1970 on, progress was rapid at Tarawera. In 1972, there were fewer than fifteen permanent residents wishing to obtain the advantages of rural mail delivery, which was insufficient to justify one. By 1975, this had changed, and the R.M.D. was established, serving approximately 140 households today. No longer is the population only the retired — it is a young family population with a large school bus filled to overflowing, and an extra one will soon be required.
Is it full tide yet? The answer must be an emphatic "NO" — the tide continues to rise. Like Ōkāreka, Tarawera has its home for a busy fire unit — a community hall may not be far away in the future. And a fine mix of people continues to come in, enriching the quality of life of a lively and exciting community. A fine blend of people continues to arrive, enhancing the quality of life in.
