Here's Alison: Down The Mighty Waikato
Alison Ross, still feeling a sense of hurt, tells of the time when she missed out on a Huck Finn journey down New Zealand's mighty Waikato River.
The Waikato River is the longest river in the Southern Hemisphere. It was also our playground. I learnt to swim in it, paddle a canoe in it, and generally have fun in it. These of course were in the good old days, when the water was almost crystal clear. Today’s youngsters could never use it like we did.
Dams were built on the river to generate electric power. Barges plied their way up and down from Hamilton to Port Waikato. We often waved to the people on the barges and paddle steamers as they chugged along, heading down to the bridge then disappearing from sight around the bend.
I remember an occasion when the level of the river dropped until mere school girls could cross it, with their gym dresses tucked into their bloomers. Naturally I was one of these. I don’t recall whether my brothers had to turn up their knee-length pants. As they were some years older than me they probably didn’t feel the need..
The reason for the lack of water was the new Karapiro Dam had to be filled. While the river was low my brothers made an exciting find. They had hoped for a reward but as none was forthcoming they dragged their booty from the river and hid it behind some bushes near our swimming hole. It was a large anchor, lost from one of the shipping company’s barges.
The Dam filled quickly and we could no longer take short cuts home from school, so a new game was the order of the day. A lot of debris was floating down the almost-back-to-normal river.’Tree trunks, branches, fence posts and planks - anything we could manage to pull out, we did. Guy Fawkes night was at hand! We would build a bonfire… Our pile grew steadily higher.
Crossing the bridge on my way home one day I saw a heap of logs tangled together, floating slowly down the river. They were absolutely perfect for our bonfire. Running home I quickly changed into my swimming togs and headed upriver to where there was another swimming spot. Leaving my bike in the bushes I dived in and swam across to intercept the logs as they floated down towards me.
They were still a little upstream and. unfortunately it was on the far side of the river, which would involve a lot of hard work in pushing them across to our swimming hole some distance down stream.
As I converged with my target I found it was a better bounty than I had anticipated. Under the logs which were jammed together there was a professionally made raft, complete with oil drums and a solid wooden floor.
Winning a lottery could not have made me happier. I would get it home somehow. In no time, managing to untangle the logs, I pushed them away, bonfires forgotten. Now that beautiful raft was mine!
It took a very long time to push it across the river and before I managed to reach the bank on the other side I was under and beyond the bridge.
Nearly exhausted, I finally reached a spot clear of willows, with room to wedge my prize on the bank. My legs shaking I made my way home for help. My brothers willingly gave a hand and it was soon maneuvered upstream to our swimming hole The next day the boys anchored it about 15 yards out from the bank with the shipping company’s anchor.
For the rest of that summer the boats from the shipping company went up and down the river, their men looking for their anchor! They knew approximately where the lost anchor should have been. They didn’t know it was only 15 yards from the far side of the river.
I recall we had a magnificent summer with our swing rope, raft, and canoe. The river was a wonderful playground.
Some months later, in the early autumn, I felt nothing short of desolation when, coming home from school one day, I looked across the river expecting to see my raft. It was gone! I ran every step of the way home.
The boys were missing!
I never forgave them. It would have been every child's dream and they had left me behind! Even now, many years later, words fail me! They'd had the ultimate adventure 'doing a Huck Finn' down the mighty Waikato River!
Postscript.
I understand that after a discreet phone call the shipping company eventually recovered their missing anchor!
