Hotels Had Sonorous Names— Except For “The Blue Duck”

Otago Daily Times, Issue 27523, 18 October 1950, Page 4

Hotels Had Sonorous Names— Except For “The Blue Duck”

A Place To Stay The Night (6)

Staff Reporter

Hotels in Central Otago have tended to drop some of the more sonorous names bestowed upon them in the high, wide and handsome boom times of the gold rush. It seems a pity, for there was a certain dignity about the Northumberland Arms which a mundane name like the Commercial can never capture, whatever literal virtues the latter may claim.

Many of the miners came from Australia, and it was reflected nostalgia which persuaded hotelkeepers of the day to dub so many of their premises the Ballarat, the Bendigo, or similar names from the trans-Tasman diggings. From prominent miners came names like the Hartley Arms; from a fabulous era came names like the Golden Age; from geographical links, from their proprietors, from local occupations, from their situations came a host of other names—Skippers, Eichardts, the Mountaineer, the Railway and all the rest. But there is some room for a suspicion that the hamlet of Drybread once boasted a hostelry with the fine old English title, The Blue Duck.

MATAKANUI

The geographical index states that Matakanui is in Central Otago—“A gold mining and sheep run district, with post, telephone and money order office. Rail to Omakau, then motor. Roads good. Good fishing and shooting (hare and duck). Hotel accommodation.” The last phrase refers to a squat, white roughcast building which sits, pondering past excitements, at the top of the tiny township. Little lizards sun themselves in the crumbling mud-brick wall which props itself against the poplars across the road, while ducks and hens carry on a raucous conversation from the creek at the foot of the hill. Just how the NewtoWn Hotel comes to be at Matakanui requires rather complicated nomenclatural explanation. First, there were two gold mining settlements—Matakanui and Drybread. The former was often called Tinkers, legend holding that two tinsmiths

struck it lucky while prospecting in the district. The original hotel at Matakanui was about 10 chains east of the present building and was known as Tinkers Gully Hotel. With the passing of the years and the dwindling of mining activity in the district, the old hotel disappeared. A trade publication of half a century ago lists the Matakanui Welcome Hotel (late Drybread)—‘‘This new and commodious hotel has been well furnished throughout and is now one of the most comfortable houses on the goldfields.” A certain Mr Henry Duck is named as the proprietor. That is where the confusion starts. The licence for-the present Newtown Hotel came from Drybread about 60 years ago, and the hotel gained its name from the fact that it was built in a new part of the settlement. But was it originally named the Matakanui Welcome Hotel? Or was the hotel of that name at Drybread? If so, did the hotel named The Blue Duck, which old residents claim existed at Drybread, change its name? Or was The Blue Duck just a local tilt at the proprietor, Mr Henry Duck? Perhaps there is some early settler who can solve the problem. In any event, Matakanui’s Newtown Hotel was rebuilt in 1913 in its present form. No longer are many sheep driven through Thompson’s Gorge to the Lindis, {he shepherds pausing for the night at Matakanui. And, until two or three weeks ago, the old mineshafts in the valley were quiet. But the stocky little hotel stands ready for any return to the old, brave days.

CHATTO CREEK

“ Good accommodation for boarders and travellers. Best brands of wines and spirits kept in stock.” This was the advertisement which D. G. Gunn used to entice trade to his Chatto Creek Hotel in 1902.

The story of Chatto Creek is a familiar one. It was a camping ground for the bullock wagons which plied their creaking way across the dusty plains. The drivers shared the hotel which grew up to care for their wants with the men from Moutere Station. No longer do the travellers who step across its veranda rely on ox power—horsepower whirls them into Alexandra, or on through the gorge to Cromwell and the lakes. But the hotel still exists for the purpose it was created—to supply food and drink to those who decide to pause.

This is the last of a series of articles on the small hotels in Central Otago which have been called to show due cause to the Licensing Commission that they are required. The thought that their existence is in some jeopardy is one which worries residents of the province, and, perhaps less pointedly, the many people who feel that New Zealand would be the poorer if these links with the past were lost. For there is no doubt that the hotels have been the focus of life —and sometimes of death—in the smaller settlements. Curiously enough, the histories of the hotels have had no previous documentation. It might be pertinent, as a sort, of postscript, to record some of the common denominators of the little hotels of Central Otago. Most of them exhibit a collection of tiny sample spirits bottles. Most of them have a more recent exhibit of beer labels from all over the world, with particular emphasis on brews encountered by members of the 2nd NZEF. There is inevitably the slightly dubious bottle with skull and # prossbones label and contents from the Hokonui Hills. There is often a lone bottle of beer> to recall the now defunct Lawrence brewery. And there is always a picture from an old calendar showing a cheerful covey of policemen with foaming tankards. And, as their major common denominator, all the little hotels are giving some service to the people in their community and to tired and thirsty travellers. For this reason, Central Otago does not want to lose them.