The beauty of Peel Forest belies the tragic deaths of four children in 1975

Press, 27 January 1979, Page 16

The beauty of Peel Forest belies the tragic deaths of four children in 1975

The memorial recently erected at Blandswood in the Peel Forest Park is a reminder o f the tragic time in January, 1975, when the flood waters from the Kowhai Stream claimed the lives of four young children. The Kowhai is usually only a small stream and it seems incredible that it was able to cause so much destruction. Peel Forest is not usually thought of in terms of tragedy, but rather as a place of peace and tranquillity. Being 135 kilometres from Christchurch, and only 55 kilometres from Timaru, the park is popular for picnics and holidays. It has a well appointed camping ground not far from the Rangitata River and there are a number of privately-owned baches situated mainly in the Blandswood area. Peel Forest also has a number of permanent residents, including Austen Deans, one of New Zealand’s leading artists. The Park is dominated by Mount Peel and its two peaks — Big and Little. To the Maoris who lived in the area before the white man arrived the peaks were known as Tarahaoa and Hau-te-kere-kere. Chief Tarahaoa and his wife Hau-te-kerekere were among the survivors when two canoes were wrecked on the coast at Shag Point. After burying the dead, the rest of the trbe wandered northward. The Chief and his wife asked their Gods to change them into mountains at the time

of their death. The Gods, it seems, were agreeable, an-'. Tarahaoa became Big Mt Peel and Hau-te-kere-kere became Little Mt Peel. The first white people to make their homes in the area were Jollie,

Tripp, and Acland, in the 1850 s. Jollie took up a run east of the forest while Tripp and Acland established themselves on the north-western side. The bush between the runs was much the same as when the Maoris ar-

rived, and although the edges were cleared to provide timber for homes, stockyards, and fences, the big trees were still safe, deep in the forest. However, before long the pitsaw men came and the trees started to fall. The pit-saw men worked in pairs; one in the pit and one on the huge log above. The trees included kahikatea (white pine), matai (black pine), rata, beech, and totara. The toughest wood was the rata, which the bushmen used to make their mauls. The timber was sold for many uses, from building houses to making railway sleepers. After onlv one year of felling, the Chief Surveyor of the Canterbury Province, Thomas Cass, was appalled to see the forest so devastated. Many big trees had been removed and the bush had been w ecked where the bullock teams dragged the heavy logs to the saw-pits. It seemed that the forest giants which had spent centuries growing would soon become extinct. An Act of Parliament controlled timber cutting to some extent, but from 1865 to 1908 Peel Forest was essentially a saw-mil-ling village. Steam engines replaced bullock teams and tramways were built into the forest. By 1908, it became cheaper to import timber from Australia than to buy on the local market and before long many bushmen were look ing for new employment. Parliament, being con cerned about the reports from the Canterbury surveyors, and seeing the possibility of losing a nat-

By

ROY SINCLAIR

ional asset, passed the Scenery and Preservation Act in 1908. Under it the Peel Forest Park was established and 194 hectares of Crown land was set aside as a scenic reserve. In 1926, the park was increased to 513 hectares and a special Act of Parliament put the control under a new Peel Forest Board. The present board, which administers the park for the Lands and Survey Department, was set up in 1966. In the next year Dennistoun Bush was added to the park, increasing its size to 773 hectares. The Acland’s Mount Peel Station, the home of Sir John and Lady Acland, is one o’f the few South Canterbury properties to

remain in the original .family. The attractive homestead is surrounded by old English trees, and an interesting feature of the property is the family church. Situated in a commanding position overlooking the Rangitata River, this delightful little stone church has withstood the winds from the gorge for more than a hundred years. It was built in 1868 by Barton Acland and named “Holy Innocents” because four young childen were the first people to be buried in its churchyard. The altar rail, bench seats, and lectern are made of black pine and knotted totara, and the stained glass windows are memorials to members of the family. Each new year, since 1882, a member of the Acland family has rung in the new year with the church bell. The church is well worth a visit, especially when a service is being held. A feature of Peel Forest is the bird life. The bellbirds’ songs are prominent and these birds are frequently seen in the forest. Among other native birds often seen or heard

are the native pigeo fantails, warblers, tomti and riflemen. Unfortunately, as i many other localities, th tui is seldom seen. There is also a bird, perhaps a bellbird, which makes a sound like a small tinkling bell. It is often heard around the camp in the evening. The dawn chorus is sometimes almost deafening. On one occasion when it dawned fine after a cold wet night, the chorus sounded like thousands of saucepans being crashed together. Bush walks are a pleasant pastime at Peel Forest. Those with experience and energy can climb to the Tristram Harper Memorial Hut at the summit of

Little Mount Peel. From there one gets vast views of the Canterbury Plains as well as views of the high inland alps. There are plenty of shorter walks requiring less endurance, such as the one through Dennistoun Bush to the reconstructed old saw-pit, and the one to the Acland Falls which are only 20 minutes walk from the camp. Deep in the forest it is easy to feel hundreds of kilometres from the cities and towns. It also seems appropriate to recall the words of the American writer, Thoreau, written in 1852. “Ah, if I could put into words that music which I hear; that music which can bring tears to the eyes of marble statues.” During the recent New Year’s holiday, as I watched children playing in the Kowhai Stream at Blandswcfod, I realised that there are two sides of nature, each presented to us at different times. I thought of another line from Thoreau: “Nature doth thus kindly heal every wound,” and hoped that those affected by the floods of 1975 had found this to be true.