Horoera School Goes to Auckland by Margaret A. Hiha First of all I had better locate Horoera. We are actually only seven miles from Te Araroa, on the East Coast, and also seven miles from the East Cape. Our isolation is because of lack of access. We are cut off from Te Araroa by an unbridged river, the Awatere. After rain this is so dangerous that no-one can cross it. We have no shops and no electricity. Our one asset is our proximity to the sea, which yields a regular supply of food. It is because of the river that most of our children had been no further afield than Te Araroa, and this is why we felt that an educational tour would be so beneficial for them. Our school is a two-teacher one, the teachers being my husband and myself. We have twenty-five children in the classes Standard Three to Form II. To take them to Auckland for a week would cost £230. Their parents were all in favour of the idea, and they were undeterred by the seemingly exorbitant cost involved. We discussed ways of raising the money, and hoped that a concert would ‘rake in the kale’. This was a big undertaking, as there are only fourteen families in the area. For it to be a success, everyone had to do something at the concert, from tiny tots to grandparents. And each one did pull his weight, so there was little chance of failure. We worked hard at our concert practices. We had a very varied programme, with individual items and group skits as well as Maori items. The adults found it difficult to remember action songs and haka from one week to the next, so we began practicing on Wednesday nights as well as on Sunday afternoons. Even so, the week before the concert we were appalled at our lack of perfection. A pep talk by one of the older generation worked wonders, and the dress rehearsal came smoothly to an end. With the usual differences ironed out, the night of our first performance rolled around.

At Te Araroa Despite our prayers the elements were against us. The day before the concert it poured. A brief respite on Friday morning and then the deluge. Our time of departure was set for 5 p.m., but the storm continued unabated. I wondered vaguely why no-one had rung to say ‘Pack up, the river is rising’. I didn't bother because I complacently thought, ‘These people know their district’. Then a neighbour sent a message to say that if I wanted to use the car I had better put it across the creek by our home immediately as another half hour at the rate the rain was falling and nothing would cross. I loaded the concert paraphenalia, the baking for supper, and the goods for the sales take on to the car and drove it across the creek, waded back to my family and fed and dressed them for the night's adventure. Between heavy downpours we crossed to the car and drove to the Awatere River, where my fears arose, just as the river was doing. Could we cross with our babies, our supper, concert gear and so forth? It was dark now, the river was rising rapidly, and the rain had increased. Never let it be said that the people of Horoera are faint-hearted. We crossed, on Dewes' tractor. It took four full loads before everyone was safely at the meeting-house, but we got there. Despite all difficulties, the concert was a great success, and the people supported us to the extent of £50 in the bank. There was no chance of returning to Horoera that night, so we put the children to bed in the meeting-house. No-one got much sleep, but by morning the Awatere was crossable, so again Sam Hale ferried us across on the tractor.

Tikitiki When we took our concert to Tikitiki the weather was at least fine, thought we had to cross on the tractor as the Awatere was too deep for the bus. Everyone was in high spirits as Mr Dewes had his new bus, the one in which we were to travel to Auckland. The people at Tikitiki were wonderful and we cleared £80 at the door and sales table. Of this we were able to bank £55, so our fund was slowly mounting.

Ruatoria What a fiasco. And all because of the weather. It was fine when we left, and the Awatere was