Kia ora ano tatau Te Wiwi Nati. Anei e whai ake nei ko etahi korero e pa ana ki te mahi pamu, i aua e tipu ake ana i te wa kainga.
At best we were a “subsistence whānau” with a small dairy farm. Initially the small herd of 14 were milked by hand and then later, when the Chambers whānau took over, by machine and hence the increase in numbers to their peak of 37. This was at Mākaraka where we also raised pigs but mainly poaka kunekune – wonderful for mīti tahu and hinu and easy to keep, as well as fowls, ducks and geese - all essential elements for our sustenance and free range existence.
The cowshed consisted of 4 cow bails, a separator room and an engine room. There were back and leg ropes and each bail door had a handle and a groove to hold the door closed. When you finished the cow you released the leg rope, lifted the door handle out of the groove and pushed the door open to let the cow out.
When things got bad the odd cow would go right through the door and one of us would be dispatched to hold the door closed when the cow was brought around again. Sometimes this worked and sometimes it didn’t. If it was the latter it was because the one bringing the cow in was too slow to put the back and leg ropes on.
Other times a cow would go in and back straight out again – dangerous for the toes. And when the door handle broke or even the door, it was nailed closed. Then when you finished the cow you would undo the back and leg ropes and either try and lean in front of the cow to make it back out. Invariably you would upset the cow next to you – plan B - and that was to run around in front of the door and bang on the door to get the cow out.
When the cows were just about finished being milked then the separator was started and the milk separated. This was done through a separating machine which comprised a stack of steel discs screwed down with a topping disc and a bowl. This was placed in the separator bowl and a milk float put on the top with 2 spouts. One for the skim milk, and the other for the cream. It worked on the principle that cream was lighter than milk and therefore would come out of the top spout and milk out of the bottom one.
Before the engine came along where the correct speed of the separator was orchestrated mechanically, we did it by hand. That is we had to turn the handle of the separator and we had to ensure that the speed was such that as the cream came out of its spout it would have at least 2 and ½ twists and no more than 3 twists. Very high tech and good on the old Alva Laval gear.
Like other dairy farmers we separated the milk and the cream went to the Ngāti Porou dairy factory – west side of Ruatorea and the skim milk went into drums down by the pig stye. When it curdled this was fed to the pigs mainly as well as the ducks and fowls. For those sparrows who dared sit on the drum rims having a kai they became the targets for slingshots, arrows and later some gunshot practice or even stones.
The cream was taken to the road (about 500 yards) in a variety of styles which included horseback, sledge or foot mobile. Sometimes you had to rush to catch the “cream truck” which did one daily pickup in the morning. Sometimes it also became the local ride to and from town or even to the suburbs of Tikitiki etc
The factory was certainly an experience seeing the cream coming in and all the workers emptying the truck, weighing the cans of cream before taking a dip stick (flat wooden teaspoon) and tasting and then spitting the cream out and calling out the can number and its weight. A docket was attached to the cream can lid after they were cleaned and returned to you at the next collection. Our number was 151.
Every now and again a more high tech test was carried out by the factory and when this happened you would be given a higher tech report like – too much water in the cream and this meant:
- someone had had a feed of cream and topped up the can to about the usual daily level; or
- someone had spilt some cream; or
- someone had a real urge to increase production without increasing food intake or the cow numbers – shades of the San Lu malanine scandal; or
- perhaps the driver was partaking in some .
After the cream was poured into some large churns it eventually came out in big slabs which were cut into 1 pound lots, wrapped and marketed as Nāti Butter. The cutting instrument was a fine wire with a T grip on each end and used like a garrotte.
The outstanding feature for me on all my visits was that all of the workers seemed to always be in full motion from the time the first cream truck arrived until the end of the day at about 2 o’clock. Over that time there was Tutu Wirepa, Hati Rangiuia, Tane Seymour, George Stainton, Mac Fox, EJ Nepe, Major Poutu and cousin Maru. All decked out in their white overalls, aprons, hair covers and gumboots.
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