How the weather has shaped and influenced my life
Catch up on the series here: Chapter 1: Aussie Summers – 1950s, Chapter 2: Aussie Winters – 1950s, Chapter 3: Aussie Winters – 1960s, and Chapter 4: Aussie Summers – 1960s
Having moved to New Zealand almost 40 years ago, it soon became apparent, that the weather this side of the ditch is considerably different, to what I experienced in Australia.
Upon arrival in this country, I worked on several North Island farms. It was really enjoyable, especially working on several dairy farms, in much higher rainfall than I had previously experienced. This was a totally new adventure for me. We had grown up purchasing milk from a neighbour who milked a few cows, about a mile away.
It soon became apparent to me that most Kiwi farmers had a different attitude to farming regarding the weather. In my experience the Kiwi farmer EXPECTED to receive the average amount of rain when required and farmed accordingly. Sometimes they were not as well prepared for a dryer spell, especially those in the normally high rainfall areas.
The Aussie farmer HOPED for rain but farmed more cautiously in case of an extended dry spell. They could soon adapt and adjust if they received more rainfall than was normal, which did happen, sometimes. This was my opinion at the time, and I think still largely applies even today. However, I could be mistaken.
After leaving farming, I was employed at various North Island meat processing plants in various capacities. Again, the number of livestock (especially lambs) processed annually was dictated by the weather. Freezing cold temperatures, heavy rain or snowfall could decimate newly born lambs, if it fell at lambing time.
From a personal point of view, I found the weather in the North Island far cooler but more humid than I had experienced in South Australia. Many years ago, I returned home in March for my father’s birthday. As with most Australian homes, my parent’s home was fully air conditioned. This particular day was hot, but not exceptionally so. I opened the outside door with the intention of walking around the garden. However, as I stepped to go out, I was faced with what felt like opening an oven door, and quickly retreated to the cooler inside temperature. My parents laughed at my reaction and commented, “You have been in NZ for too long”, to which I only grinned and nodded in agreement and returned to the more acceptable temperature inside the house. Going outside would have to wait until it was cooler.
About 20 years ago, I moved further south to the top of the South Island, where the summers tended to be hot and dry and the winters quite mild, which reminded me of home. I had grown up with vineyards and the Barossa Valley a short distance away, and here I was virtually surrounded by what seemed like never ending vineyards. Living in that region, reminded me most of the South Australian weather I had left, many years previously.
On the move again, to North Canterbury, just north of Christchurch, where I met and married, an amazing woman. Again, changes in the weather soon quickly became apparent, with cooler summers, much colder winters, and sometimes, very windy days, especially during early spring. If the temperature reaches 30 degrees we think we are experiencing a heatwave, but if I inform Aussie friends and relatives, they generally laugh at me, or begin to explain what a real heatwave is like.
In a small area of our lifestyle block, we have approximately 150 mature pine trees. Almost four years ago in early spring, we had gale force NW winds which blew off the Southern Alps and lasted for several hours. It happened at night but because of the dreadful noise, we were unable to sleep. I was terrified and felt certain the roof was going to lift off the house at any time. The storm covered a huge area, and many households were severely affected for many days due to power losses, caused by trees blowing onto power lines. We later heard that wind gusts had reached 150kms per hour. At first light we went outside to assess the damage. Fortunately, we only found some branches blown off trees. Everything else had escaped unscathed. However, when we saw the mature trees, it was a different story with many of them either uprooted entirely or badly blown over. At least we will not have to worry about firewood for the next few years.
As mild as the summers are, the winters are entirely different. Yes, we still get the heavy, white frosts which are quite common in many regions. What sets us apart from some other areas is the snow we can receive. Most years we have had at least one snowfall every year, some quite light which barely covers the ground. Some however can be 30cms or so deep. It is those heavy falls which can make life interesting for us.
We have a large bird aviary which ranges in height from 2-3 metres. When we receive a heavy snowfall, it tends to gather on the bird netting. This snow causes the netting to stretch severely under the weight and eventually the aviary will collapse if not dislodged. So how do we rectify the problem? My dear wife normally informs me it is my job! With a thick, woolly hat, raincoat and gumboots and a wide metal, garden rake I go into the aviary. I push the flat, wide part of the rake against the snow to dislodge it. The really difficult part is to do so, without the snow going down the back of my neck or inside my gumboots. During a prolonged snowfall, this procedure has to be performed a number of times. Each time I ask my wife, “Would you like to take care of the snow in the aviary?” but at times like that, she has “selective hearing” and only smiles at me.
One year, we had spent the day out with one of Kay’s numerous sisters and husband, who were visiting us at the time. The evening was relatively mild and calm for that time of the year. A cooler southerly change was expected during the night. Early next morning we woke at 4.45am which was our normal, weekday time for getting up. Upon opening the curtains, realised that it had snowed heavily during the night and was continuing to do so.
With a heavy, white blanket of snow covering everything, we quickly realised that to drive to work would be foolhardy and extremely dangerous, so we did not risk it. We both phoned our work places, advised them of our situation, and were advised to stay home. Later, we were to realise the snow had blanketed a large area of the East Coast, right down to sea level in many cases. As soon as it was light enough to see, I again asked my wife regarding the bird aviary, and immediately realised to continue the conversation would be futile! Eventually, it stopped snowing and the cold wintery sunlight began to filter its way through the broken clouds. It looked amazingly beautiful with the thick snow glistening brightly. It was picture postcard brilliant, and reminded me of amazing photos we have often seen in Northern Europe and America. This outstanding beauty was equally matched by the stillness and quietness. In a beautiful, almost magical way, the silence was almost deafening. Yes, we had neighbours some as close as 150 metres away with young children, but at that moment in time, not a sound could be heard in the district. It appeared everyone was in total awe of nature at its finest. It seemed almost surreal, and a world away from the previous day. Every now and then we would hear, what sounded like the crack of a rifle shot, to discover it was a branch from a tree, collapsing under the weight of the snow.
A little later, I went out to dislodge the snow from many of our smaller trees and shrubs, so they would not be damaged, and collapse under the weight. My wife was preoccupied playing Scrabble with her sister (both of whom were cheating) in front of a roaring fire to initially offer assistance. They are very close in all respects. I could hear them laughing, and totally oblivious to what I was doing. It was like winding back the clock many decades. At the completion of their game, they came outside and helped me, which was much appreciated. Eventually, the snow melted and caused very little damage to our property. We were not affected by power outages although some inland people living in isolated areas were without power for many days.
One time, we had an even heavier (but brief) snowfall which was at least 30cms deep, and filled my gumboot as soon as I walked to the aviary. Very soon, I could feel my feet begin to freeze. I yelled out desperately for warm water to my wife who was cosy and warm inside by the fire. I then poured the water inside my boot, hoping it would melt the snow enough for me to withdraw my (now) frozen feet. Fortunately, it proved successful with no long term ill effects.
While we were working, it was those types of really wintery, cold, snowy days that we dreaded. The snow and ice on the road made the road very slippery for driving, and extra care was needed. Walking along the footpath in cold, wet windy weather usually in the dark, for about 10-15 minutes we dreaded but endured because there was no other alternative. We were always relieved to finally enter our warm workplace.
We noticed, especially during the winter, that the weather could be vastly different between Christchurch, and our home, less than an hour’s drive away, across the plains, towards the foothills. Having now retired, we no longer have to face those kinds of problems. It doesn’t matter if we are farmers or not. To some degree whatever we choose to do with our lives, or wherever we go, the weather will always play a part in our everyday lives.
My sincere wish is that you have enjoyed the journey I have attempted to take you on, regarding how the weather has shaped and influenced my life, in both Australia and New Zealand, and I’m sure, will continue to do so.