Blind Men Do Their Share In Dominion's War Effort

Auckland Star, Volume LXXIV, Issue 91, 17 April 1943, Page 4

Blind Men Do Their Share In Dominion's War Effort

DLIND men, some of them thus ■*-* handicapped because of their service in World War 1., are playing an active part in the Dominion's war effort. It is not a spectacular role, but it is a useful and essential one. They are providing necessary equipment for the Royal New Zealand Navy and the Merchant Navy, and they are making furniture for hospitals on which wounded and sick men from the Solomons and from the Middle East may take their ease. I have seen these men at work, have watched, their nimble fingers moving surely and deftly as they sew, bind, weave, knot and fill, and have seen, too, the excellently-fin-ished job they turn out. Their efforts are a credit to the men, who have thus conquered in a battle against affliction, and a credit to the instructors at the Institute for the Blind, Auckland, Avho, under Mr. W. Packman, workshop superintendent, are training, assisting and supervising the.blind men in their work. Lack Some Materials

Lack of materials, some of which used to come from Malaya, has raised difficulties in some departments of the workshops, but the men who were experts in these departments are now being trained in other equally useful work—and they are proving apt pupils. Their instructors say that, except in speed, some of the men are as fully competent as any first-class craftsman in the work they are doing.

Ships' fenders of all types, coir mats for the armed forces, cane and seagrass chairs, tables and lounges for hospitals—all these are contributions the 120 blind craftsmen of the Auckland Institute are making to the Dominion war effort, and there is nothing shoddy about any of it. And there is a valuable contribution, also, in the work that is being turned out for civilian use—thousands of strawberry chips, and cane and seagrass furniture and household equipment of all kinds.

The contracts for fenders for the Royal New Zealand Navy is a new aspect of the work, and men who were formerly engaged on mat-mak-ing are now busily occupied on this work. I saw men sitting out in the sun beside the rope workshop busy with needle and twine, sewing the canvas bags for the smallest of these fenders. It was new work to them, but there was no fumbling. Their fingers felt and measured, guided the punch, the needle and twine, and gradually the bags took shape. "How long did it take you to learn to do this work?" I asked one of the men. "A day," he said. "Two days to get speed." Busy Workers Inside the workshop, in box-pits, other blind men were filling and packing these bags with granulated cork, and others finished them off ready for use. Four hundred fenders of various shapes and types have already been made by these men, for naval or general shipping use.

The Turk's head type, a rope cored and bound fender of distinctive naval design, of a heavier class than the canvas and cork type, is being turned out in large numbers. One hundred and fifty have already been made and another 100 are to be made.

The outstanding accomplishment of the workshop, however, in meeting shipping needs, is the making of several bow and stern fenders, 23ft 6in and 20ft in length respectively, and up to 12in in thickness.

The core of these fenders is made up of lengths of 3in manila rope, measured with Braille rules and cut. Round these are packed layers of

(By E. K. GREEN.)

old rope, the whole being then wrapped and sewn in scrim. A length of tarred Europe rope goes round the centre, to act as the loop that will eventually support the weight of the whole structure.

For the rest it is a maze of halfhitches, the whole of the hitching work being done carefully and expertly by blind men. I saw one young man, blind from birth, putting the finishing touches to a 20ft stern fender. It had taken him eight working days to complete it, he said, and in its construction there were approximately 3000 half-hitches!

In the smaller variety of fenders of a similar type there were 340 half-hitches, he said. Of those he could make five a week.

Men in this department of the institute's workshops have made over 3000 coir mats for the armed forces.

Supplies of datoe cane, which used to be imported from Singapore, are now difficult to obtain, but cane from other sources is being. tried out for use by the furniture makers, the weavers and basket workers, who are also engaged on work directly commissioned for the armed forces, for camp and hospital use. Over 130 pieces of furniture, chairs, tables, settees, lounges and the like have already been made for service hospitals.

The work in this branch requires an even higher degree of craftsmanship than does the ropework, but in these workshops, as in the previous ones, the principal impression was one of happy activity. While fingers worked busily, measuring, bending, cutting, trimming, nailing, weaving and finishing, the men chatted together on a variety of subjects. Confident Craftsmen The confidence in themselves thus demonstrated by these men, who have learned to do so many things without eyes to guide their fingers and their feet, was amazing. They walked quickly and surely from place to place in these familiar surroundings, reached out without hesitation for tools and materials as they needed them—even placed and hammered in tacks.

New patterns in furniture are carried out Avith little coaching. From the drawing a model article is made by the highly-expert members of the training staff, and the blind craftsmen transfer the pattern to memory after their hands have felt it over. They even weave in colour, the coloured materials being placed about them in known positions. Supervision is necessary, of. course, but in some cases little correction or "finishing" is required.

You would be amazed, as I was, at the variety of the work turned out by these workshops and the finish that is» imparted to them. Baskets, of many types, trays, footstools (25,000 of these in ten years) clothing baskets, lounge chairs, armchairs, lounges, settees, tables— even full dining room suites—are made in large numbers by the cane and wicker workers of the institute.

Six hundred children had their eyes made to glisten and thfir hearts gladdened last Christmas by the number of dolls' prams made in the institute workshops between August and the beginning of the presentbuying period.

Strawberry-chip making has been part of the institute's activities for a number of years, and it was equally amazing to watch how quickly these useful little boxes are turned out by men who work on a mass production basis.

All these men are doing an important war job, and they, as well as their country, are benefiting by it. They have learned to have confidence in themselves, and they are playing their part with gladness.