Grubbing For A Living

Press, Volume CVI, Issue 31221, 19 November 1966, Page 5

Grubbing For A Living

(Specially written for “The

Press’ 1 by

OLIVER RIDDELL)

r J'HERE are easier ways of earning a living than grubbing Nasella tussock during the summer.

The sun beats down from a cloudless sky and for day after day the temperatures in the valleys rise above 110 degrees. There is no shade and no cool breeze to sooth the sweating brow. To describe the camp as “living quarters” sums it up, and food on the job usually consisted of a few dried sandwiches and a half-gallon jar of cordial.

It was fatal to take water on the job. One young grubber died of exhaustion and it was generally considered he had made the mistake of drinking water while; working. The labour was not back-] breaking, unless you were unfortunate enough to have a foreman who considered North Canterbury could be cleared of tussock by just a few weeks’ hard work. The tussocks never seemed to grow along the valley bottoms where there was some moisture, or on the ridges where there was a breeze, but on the steepest of the valley sides where the sun shone all day. I had every reason to be grateful to my two foremen who both quickly realised that someone as soft, fat and useless as myself would work no harder for being driven. For the duration of the job my delicate little hands were covered in blisters and I was finally driven to the humiliation of wearing a leather glove. So patent was my unsuitability for the work that I lived in daily terror of being sacked. However, the board was short of labour at the time. Some of the best i grubbers were put on to knapsack spraying, but there was never any danger of me getting a job requiring so much stamina. The work is extremely monotonous. A grubber is up by 7 o’clock to have breakfast and prepare his food for the day which begins at 8 a.m. A long ride from

camp sitting uncomfortably in the back of a utilityvehicle brings the grubber io country where the nasella tussock competes with gorse and matagouri for control of the hillsides. On some faces, grass has only a precarious hold on life.

The job demands two skills. The workman must be able to distinguish nasella tussock from ordinary tussock, and this involves recognition of the three stages nasella goes through. Young nasella is greener than anything else growing and a flowering nasella is purple and flops over on to the ground. A medium-size nasella is almost indistinguishable from any other kind of tussock.

Gangs are spread across the slope in chains, following the contour of the face. For this system to work, each gang must keep in line or else gaps will open and tussocks be missed. Even if you strike a veritable plantation of tussocks, the line must not be broken, and no-one stops to allow you to catch up if you strike a difficult patch. This system wears the nerves of both foremen and grubbers and gang language is usually pretty choice. Most such jobs have their compensations, but grubbers are generally so tired at the end of a day that they are not capable of taking advantage of them. There is some merriment; but not much. After all, it is a sobering sensation to have someone die of exhaustion while doing the same job as yourself.