Hei ā Hātarei, tioro mai ai tētahi whio ā-mamaha kua kore nei e rongo i ngā tau e 40 ki Pātea. He hokinga mahara ki te aukatinga o te whare mīti tio i tata mate ai te tāone.
A steam-powered whistle that hasn’t been heard for 40 years will echo across Pātea on Saturday, as the community remembers the freezing works and the closure that nearly brought the town down.
Read this story in English here.
Engari i mate ururoa. Anā, i tata mate. Nā reira hei te mutunga wiki nei, he hokinga mahara, he whakanuitanga hoki.
But it held on. Just. And so the weekend is one for both nostalgia and celebration.
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E hia kē nei ngā ngahurutau ko te whare mīti te taituarā ohaoha o te tāone, ā, tae noa ki te mutunga kāhore he tohu e whakapae ai e kore e pēnā tonu hei ngā ngahurutau e kainamu ana.
The works were the economic backbone of the town for decades and right up to the end there was nothing to indicate it wouldn’t continue being that backbone for decades to come.
Heoti, ka tae ana te wā kia tino whakahōu te umanga i ngā rawa kia tika e ai ki ngā taumata Ohaoha ā-Hapori ki Ūropi, i whakatau kē kia whakakorengia.
But when the company was required to undertake substantial upgrades to meet European Economic Community standards it instead pulled the pin.
I te Paraire, te 3 o Hepetema, 1982, aukatia ai te Pātea Freezing Company, nō muri mai i ngā tau tata ki te 100.
On Friday, September 3, 1982, the Pātea Freezing Company closed after almost 100 years of operation.
Kātahi rā te pānga ki te tāone. Me kore ake te whiwhinga mahi e noho mai ai rātou, kua mate te tini ki te whai mahi kē atu, ka mutu, he tokomaha i toro atu ki ngā whare mīti ki ngā tāone anō i Te Ika a Māui.
The impact on the town was immediate. Without employment to keep them there, hundreds left in search of work, many commuting to other towns with meat works around the North Island.
I taumaha tā ngā mōrehu takahi i te ara o mahi kia whai, me te aha, ka taka ngā wiki, ka hinga ai ngā pakihi.
Those who remained struggled to find jobs and within weeks businesses began to close.
Patea HIstorical Society
Ko te wā whakamutunga wehe ai ngā kaimahi i te whare mīti, i te 3 o Hepetema, 1982. / Workers leave the works for the last time on September 3, 1982.
Nā wai i taurikura, ka mōnehu a Pātea.
From a thriving rural town Pātea became an example of 1980’s rural decay.
Inā te tokomaha i matapae te matenga katoatanga o te tāone, pēnei i ngā tāone whare mīti o mua, hei tā te perehetini o te Rōpū Hītori ki Pātea, Jacq Dwyer.
Many people predicted the town would completely die, like so many other freezing works towns, Pātea Historical Society president Jacq Dwyer says.
I tata pēnā. Ki tā te karu titiro, he ātārangi noa e toe ana. Engari e ora tonu nei tōna wairua.
And it very nearly did. To look at the town remains a shadow of its former self. But it’s heart and soul remains.
Ko te rerenga kētanga i Pātea ko Pātea Māori Club, koia i piri tonu ai te tāone, hei tāna.
The difference in Pātea was the Pātea Māori Club and that held the town together, she says.
Supplied
Ngā ringatoi o Poi E, ko Te Kumeroa Ngoingoi Pēwhairangi rāua ko Dalvanius Prime, i whakaahuatia i te 1982. / Poi E collaborators Ngoi Pēwhairangi and Dalvanius Prime, photographed in 1982.
I tokona tēnei e tā rāua pakō i 1984, Poi E, he kupu i titoa e te kaitito Ngāti Porou Ngoi Pēwhairangi, he rangi i titoa e te kiritata o Pātea, Dalvanius Prime.
It was helped in this by their 1984 hit song Poi E, with words by Ngāti Porou composer Ngoi Pēwhairangi and music by Pātea local Dalvanius Prime.
E kaha rangona tonutia nei te waiata – ko tētahi o ngā rangi rongonui i te motu, he whakatinanatanga ōpaki o te ahurea Aotearoa.
The song is still widely played – it’s one of the country’s most recognisable tunes, an unofficial anthem that’s become part of the Kiwi culture.
“I ora tonu ai te wairua o Pātea i tēnā, he take a Poi E me ngā waiata rawe anō kia waihape rātou,” tā Dwyer.
“It kept the spirit of Pātea, they had a reason to come back with Poi E and the other amazing songs they have sung,” Dwyer says.
Tāria te wā, ka whanaketia te waiata ki tētahi whakaari puoro i meinga te pakiwaitara o te aukatinga i te whare patu mīti, me te tāone i puritia tonutia tōna tuakiri i te wehenga.
The song was later expanded into a musical that told the story of the freezing works closure and the town that held on to its identity once it left.
E noho tonu ana tērā tuakiri, tērā hononga ki te whare mīti, ahakoa kua ngaro atu rā ngā whare.
That identity, that connection with the works, remains even if the buildings have gone.
Patea Maori Club
The version of Patea Maori Club’s Poi E re-released for Taika Waititi’s 2010 movie Boy.
I te Pēpuere 2008, i tahuna ngā whare pirau o te wheketere e tētahi ahi i puta mai nō te pō i mua i te rangi Waitangi.
In February 2008, the abandoned and deteriorating freezing works buildings were destroyed by fires that broke out the night before Waitangi Day.
Nā konā i whakawāteahia ngā tāngata 300, he māharahara nō rātou ki te auahi tāoke.
This lead the evacuation of 300 townsfolk because of fears of toxic smoke.
I muri i ngā wānanga whakariterite, i te 2009, tīmata ai te paranga i te wāhi – i tāhawahawa i te tēpoko me ngā rawa tāoke anō – ā, i oti i waenga i te 2010.
After extensive negotiations, a clean-up of the site – contaminated with asbestos and other toxic materials – began in late 2009 and was completed in mid-2010.
Āianei, he iti noa e toe ana ki te wāhi rā, i te takatika o te Awa Pātea, e tohua nei te nōhanga mai o tētahi whare ahumahi o mua i ngā tau 100, i ora ai te tāone.
Today, there’s little on the wide flat site beside the Pātea River to indicate it was once the site of a major industrial facility that for 100 years was the lifeblood of the town.
Mark Dwyer/Stuff
Nā te ahi i te 2008 i parangia ai te wāhi, nō ngā tau e 26 i muri i te aukatinga. / The 2008 fire ultimately led to the clearing of the site, 26 years after it was closed.
Tērā tētahi o ngā tino pēperekōu e mahara tonu nei ki ngā rangi maro mahue o te tāone, ko Rex Ansley, 95, i tīmata i tāna mahi ki te whare mīti tio nōna e 13 tau ana i te 1941.
One of the oldest people to remember the town’s heyday is Rex Ansley, 95, who was just 13 when he started at the freezing works in 1941.
“I aua rā, kua puta koe i te kura i te otinga o te kura tuatahi, kua whai mahi, ā, kāhore he kura tuarua ōku,” tana kōrero.
“At that stage when you got out of standard two, you got out and found a job, no high school for me,” he says.
E ono marama noho ai au ki te rūma pūkaha, ine ana i ngā paemahana i ngā mīhini tio, toro atu ana hoki ki ngā pātītī i te uriuri, hihira ai i ngā taumata wai.”
“I did six months in the engine room, going and taking the temperatures of the freezers and into the paddocks in the dark checking water levels.”
Ka 16 tau tana kaumātuatanga, ka whai mahi ai ki te papa patunga.
Once he turned 16, he got a job on the slaughter floor.
“He tau pai ēnā. E 250 ngā tāngata, ā, he oka koi ā te katoa, engari kīhai i kite te tutū o te puehu. Ki te tīmata tētahi ki te tohetohe, kua tere whakamutua e ngā kaimahi anō.”
“Those were good years. There were 250 people and everyone had pointy and very sharp knives, but I never saw any trouble. If anyone started having an argument, the workers would put a stop to it.”
ANDY MACDONALD/Stuff
Ko ngā kaimahi patu mīti o mua. / Former freezing workers Harvey Gibbs, Syd Kershaw, Ngapari Nui, Jim Baker, Hemi Ngarewa and Rex Ansley (seated), with Pātea historian Jacq Dwyer, far right.
Kua tūoi, kua tūpato hoki ki te hau mātao, ka hoki ōna mahara ki tētahi kau e pakiha ana, he kore tika nō te whakahiko i a ia i mua i tana patunga.
Frail now, and cautious about the cool breeze, he remembers one cattle beast escaping after it wasn’t stunned properly on its way to get slaughtered.
“I oma ia ki te kauhanganui, rā ngā whare tio, ka peke ai i te parepare, ka tau ai ki te tuanui o te toa pūtia,” tana kōrero.
“It ran down the corridor and through the freezers, then jumped over a parapet and landed on the roof of the butchers’ shop,” he says.
“Tāwerewere mai ana ōna waewae e whā i ngā heke.”
“Its four legs were hanging down from the rafters.”
Ahakoa i mahue i a Ansley te kura tuarua, ka tāria te wā, kua whāia ai e ia te tūranga kaiwhakawhiwhi pūtea i te whare rā.
Despite missing out on high school Ansley eventually became the pay master at the works.
ANDY MACDONALD/Stuff
I whai mahi a Rex Ansley, 95, ki te Whare Patu Mīti ki Pātea nōna e 13 tau ana. / Rex Ansley, 95, got a job at the Pātea Freezing Works when he was 13.
“I whaimana au i te mōhio wawe ki te aukatinga, nā te mea i tatauria te pūtea e au [kia utua ngā kaimahi] me te whakamōhio atu ki te kaiwhakahaere.”
“I was privileged to know they were going to close before anyone else did, because I did the calculations to advise the manager how much money was needed [to pay the workers out].”
Ka maumahara a Harvey Gibbs ki te pōkaikaha o tōna tūranga hei kaiwhahaere whakaputanga tuatahi o te whare.
Harvey Gibbs remembers the stress of his role as the works’ first production manager.
“I pōkarekare ngā wai i tērā wā, i tutū te puehu i te uniana,” hei tāna.
“They were very heady times, there was a lot of union unrest at that time,” he says.
Kīhai tērā i te rerekē. I te 2009, hei tā Russ Standing, te mātanga hītori ki Hāwera, nāna hoki tētahi takuhe kāwanatanga i toa kia tuhi ngā hītori o te whare mīti, me uaua kua kore i mua i te aroaro, i rongonui i ngā porotū, ngā rakahanga me te ahitere.
This wasn’t unusual. In 2009, Hāwera historian Russ Standing, who won a government grant to write the history of the works, said it was seldom out of the public eye and became renowned for strikes, lockouts and disharmony.
Puke Ariki Heritage Collections/Stuff
No te puke ki muri i Ngā Whare Patu Mīti ki Pātea tēnei whakaahua, me te tāone ki te tuarongo. / This view of the Pātea Freezing Works was taken from the hill above the factory, with the Pātea River and township in the background. Built in 1898, the works closed in 1982 and were demolished in 2010.
“Nāku i whakarite ngā momo tapahitanga i hiahiatia [e te kamupene] i te papa,” tā Gibbs.
“It was my job to organise the production of whatever cuts they [the company] wanted off the floor,” Gibbs says.
“He wā kia whakaoti ai ngā tono, nā reira, he tutū nō te puehu, he hīkoi atu nō ētahi anō, he rite tonu te kore tutuki i ngā whakaritenga.”
“The orders had time frames, and with the unrest and walk-offs, these quotas often couldn’t be met.”
I wehe ia i te mahi, i hoki ki te mahi pāmu i mua tata mai i te aukatinga.
He left the job and returned to farming not long before the closure.
I 15 tau a Ngapari Nui, tētahi kaimahi tio o mua, nōna i tīmata ki te mahi i te 1975.
Former freezing worker Ngapari Nui was 15 when he started work in 1975.
“I konei taku whānau katoa, aku tuākana. Kātahi anō te kamupene ka whakapau koni atu i te $1 miriona ki te whakatū i ētahi whare whakapaoa, nā reira hanga ohorere ana [te aukatinga],” hei tāna.
“My whole family, all my brothers, were here. The company had just spent over $1 million building a new smoker and sheds, so it [the closure] came out of the blue,” he says.
“He rangi pōuri tērā, i tā mātou puta i ngā kēti, kia kore anō.”
“It was a sad day for us walking out the gates for the last time.”
Ka tiro a Nui ki tua o te whenua papatahi ki te wāhi noho ai ngā kau, me te maumahara ki ngā whare rahi, tae rā anō ki ngā papa mīti kau, mīti hipi hoki, te rūma tango wheua, tētahi toa pūtia, ngā wharau ki muri hoki i noho taratahi ai ngā tāne, me te tumere tawhito.
Nui looks across the flat site where curious cattle graze, and remembers a massive complex, including beef and mutton floors, the boning room, a butcher’s shop, huts down the back used as single men’s quarters, and the old chimney.
ANDY MACDONALD/Stuff
E mahara ana a Ngapari Nui ki te pōuri i tāna wehe i te rangi whakamutunga o te Whare Patu Mīti ki Pātea. / Ngapari Nui remembers the sadness of leaving on the last day at the Pātea Freezing Works.
“Nō te aukatinga, he tokomaha mātou i wehe i Pātea. Tērā ētahi mātou i haere ki Whakatu, ki Heretaunga, mahi ai, ā, tērā ētahi anō i haere kē ki Oringi me Longburn,” hei tāna.
“When the works closed a lot of us left Pātea. Half a dozen of us went to work at Whakatu, in Hastings, others went to Oringi and Longburn,” he says.
“I te mutunga iho, kua hora katoa mātou. He kaieke ētahi mātou; i te mahi au ki Heretaunga, me te hoki ki te kāinga i ngā mutunga wiki, ka hoki anō ai.”
“We were all spread out in the end. Some of us were commuting, I was working in Hastings and travelling home for the weekend, and going back again.”
Āianei, e mahi ana ētahi mokopuna āna ki tā Silver Ferns Farms’ whare ki Hāwera.
Now, some of his grandchildren work at Silver Fern Farms’ plant in Hāwera.
“Ko te mea nā, ki te tiro whakamuri, he whānau ō mātou puta noa i te ao. He maharatanga tonu e ora ana.”
“I suppose when you look at it now, we have whānau all around the world. The memories are still there.”
He kaihihira mīti a Syd Kershaw, tētahi o ngā kaiwhakatū o te Pātea Māori Club. E maumahara ana ia ki te wairua ngākau pai i te mahi.
Syd Kershaw, a foundation member of the Pātea Maori Club, was a meat inspector. He remembers the camaraderie on the job.
“I pai katoa tā mātou mahi tahi. I okangia ngā kāwhe, ngā hipi, ngā kau, ngā poaka, ēnei mea katoa. I ohorere pai i te aukatinga.”
“We all got on very well. We did calves, sheep, beef, pigs, we did all of these. It was a big shock when it closed.”
Nā tana hononga ki te Pātea Māori Club, kua whaiwāhi hoki ia i te angitu nō te pahū mai a Poi E, mea rawa ake ka noho mai ia, tawhio ai i te motu.
His connection with the Pātea Māori Club meant he was part of its success when Poi E became a massive hit and he joined them on a tour around the country.
“I pai mutunga. I pīrangi ngā tāngata i Pōneke me te raki kia haramai mātou, i paruhi noa te katoa, i kaingākau rātou ki a mātou ahakoa ki hea. I whakatūria hoki tētahi whakangahau mā runga poti ki Motupōhue.
“We did very well. People from Wellington and up north wanted us to go there, everything was as good as gold, they loved us wherever we went. We even did a show on a boat at Bluff.”
Nā Hemi Ngarewa ngā kupu reo Māori ki tētahi toka ka hura hei ā Hātarei, he maharatanga ki a rātou i mahi ki reira, me ngā tāngata kua ngaro atu rā.
Hemi Ngarewa helped organise the reo Māori wording for a plaque on the rock to be unveiled on Saturday in memory of the people who worked there who have since died.
“E kōrero ana mō ngā tau e 99 o mua, me te wairua ngātahi o ngā kaimahi i ngā tau, waihoki te aroha, te aroha e rere ana i waenga i a rātou,” hei tāna.
“It talks about the last 99 years and also the comradeship over the years between the workers, the love and all that, the aroha they had for one another,” he says.
E maumahara ana ia ki ngā pikiniki ā-tau, ā, mā te tereina ētahi kaimahi rātou ko ngā whānau, toro atu ai ki Opunake, ki te Papa o Kōwhai rānei, ki Whanganui.
He remembers the annual works picnics, where staff and their families travelled by train to Opunake, or to Kōwhai Park at Whanganui.
ANDY MACDONALD/Stuff
I mahi tahi a Hemi Ngarewa rāua ko Syd Kershaw ki te whare patu mīti. / Hemi Ngarewa and Syd Kershaw both worked at the freezing works.
“He 1000 pea ngā tāngata ki ngā wākena tekau mā rua, ka mutu, he aihikirīmi me te huarākau mā ngā tamariki, mai i te kotahi ki te 15, 16 pea ngā tau, ā, koia te painga kē atu,” tana kī mai.
“There would be 1000 people in a dozen carriages, there was ice cream and fruit for the kids, from one year old to 15 or 16, that was the bright side,” he said.
E hia kē nei ngā whānau i raru i te aukatinga, engari he pai ake ki a ia te kōrero mō te angitu a te tāone me ōna tāngata nō taua wā.
A lot of families were affected by the closure, but he prefers to talk about the success of the town and its people since then.
“He tini ngā whānau i wehe atu ki te whai mahi. I waimarie au kia whai mahi ki PEP, kātahi ka tae ki te kura whakangungu ki Te Whare Wānanga o Massey.”
“A lot of families went away to find jobs. I was fortunate to get a job with PEP, then I went to training college and Massey University.”
Me rawa ake, ka whai mahi ia ki Poihākena, ki Wairoa, ki Rotorua hoki, i mua i tana waihape ki te kāinga.
Later, he worked in Sydney, Wairoa and Rotorua, before returning home.
“E kaingākau ana au ki Pātea, nā konā i waihape. He haepapa tō mātou ki te whenua.”
“I love Pātea, so I came back. We owe it to our whenua.”
He whakamāoritanga nā te Kaihautū Reo Māori ki Puna, nā Taurapa.
Translation by Stuff Kaihautū Reo Māori Taurapa.
