Pottery kindles new life in derelict mining town atop mount

Press, 14 September 1988, Page 22

Pottery kindles new life in derelict mining town atop mount

Story: HALINA OGONOWSKA-COATES Photographs: PIETER WATSON

In the derelict mining town of Denniston, high in the drifting mountain mist, Andrew Smith, a craftsman potter, has made his home. Undeterred by the steep access road, bleak weather and miners’ ghosts, Andrew built himself a workshop and set to work trying to make a living by throwing pots. A farming lad from the Waikato, Andrew came south in the early 1980 s looking for space where he could set up “without treading on anyone’s toes.” The rugged West Coast with its pounding beaches and lush bush had an attraction that was partly practical in its lure. “I have very little money and the land up here was cheap,” he says. “So I bought a house in Denniston. It was then that the hard work started.”

The tiny town of Denniston was once home for nearly 2000 miners and their families. Boom times came with the clatter of coal waggons and the scudding of of brake cable as millions of tons of coal were lowered down the precipitous Denniston incline. It was back in 4860 when surveyor John Rochfort discov-, ered a good coal seam 900 metres above sea level in the hills behind Westport. The problem, of course, was how to get the coal down the mountain. With true pioneering ingenuity Rochfort came up with what he called a “self-acting incline system.” On the steep wooden railway track built up the -side of the mountain, full coal waggons would hurtle downwards with the balance of their weight drawing up the empty waggons ready for another load. The perilously swift descent of the coal-laden waggons down the incline meant- that the lives of the railwaymen depended on a failproof braking system. As there was no shortage of water in Denniston,' engineers built a remarkable hydraulic system which drew in cold water with the downstroke of the piston and expelled boiling hot water on the piston’s upstroke. .: About 20 people live in Denniston today. There’s a good access road, electricity, and a great view. From his back door Andrew Smith can contemplate vast slopes of beech forest stretching as far as the eye can see. A short walk to the cliff edge gives an eagle’s eye view of the rock terrace that was once a bustling engineering workshop and is now a heap of rusting bits of scrap metal and abandoned machinery. It’s a good place to work and the silent swirling mists go unnoticed as Andrew bends over the potter’s wheel shaping cups, teapots, casserole dishes and garden planters. “It’s been a long

apprenticeship,” he says, glancing around the workshop where household utensils are stacked ready for firing. "I’ve been up here for seven years and only now it’s really coming together.” Although he is largely selftaught, Andrew spent eight months learning the basics with potter Tony Stevens, now of Diamond Harbour. Then it was a long slow process spending hours working on the wheel to improve his technique.

In his early years on the chilly mountain top, Andrew reckons he learnt a lot about using clays and a lot about hard work. “I had to build the kiln foundations straight on the rock. There’s no soil up here ... you can’t even scrape together a garden.

“The old miners’ wives used to go crazy for .a few flowers or a bit of silver beet. But you can’t grow, anything like that up here.” Perhaps that’s why Andrew’s rock and tussock “garden” is dotted with pottery objects nestling in the humps and crevices. A brown-toned jug sits beside a clump of tussock grass while planters with their own green ceramic plants peeping over the edges are tucked in beside the boulders. “I’m not a gardener,” Andrew says, “but I like to look out the window and see something I’ve made that looks like it might be growing up here.” But it’s the basic household items that sell. Andrew concentrates on producing coffee mugs and casserole dishes that are "easy to live with,” and feels that function and a pleasing aesthetic sense should lie easily together. When it’s time to fire up the kiln, he puts on his gumboots and starts shovelling. Andrew uses a raw glazing technique which means that he only has to fire his work once. His method is particularly appropriate to a oneman operation as once the firing

starts the shovelling is pretty constant. He slowly raises the temperature in the kiln with a mixture of coal and wood and then shovels fairly constantly for 12 hours. “It’s a great coal,” he says with a grin reaching into the heap. “Cascade coal ... it’s nice and chunky. Burns really hot and even.” He gets it delivered by

the truckload. You can tell when the kiln at Mount Rochfort Pottery is being fired as there’s always a couple of metres of flame shooting out the top of the chimney. The rugged beauty and soli-. tude of Denniston is as engulfing as the mist that surrounds the mountain-top town most days of the week. For Andrew the peace

and quiet is part of his life. “I’m not a loner,” he says. “I play in a band down the hill and in summer there’s always plenty of visitors to the pottery.” But there’s more to it than a craft and a house on the hill. “This place gets into your bones,” says Andrew. "I don’t reckon I’ll be moving for a good long while.”