Canaan a hilltop wonderland of history
Mentioned 81 times throughout the Bible, the curious upland geography of Canaan of the Middle East’s South Levant became associated with the Promised Land. Whatever that’s worth in these troubled times over there today!
I’m not surprised that its namesake was transported to this country, to describe all that limestone rock-studded landscape which ranges north from the top of the Tākaka Hill road.
Few places are as curious, or evocative, as this high, rolling section of the Pikikiruna Range. Riffs, rills, runnels and flutings are the main features of this bizarre limestone landscape.
Let’s not forget, though, that it was the past graziers who made the biggest impact in this remarkable micro-region. Decades of forest clearance certainly made the landscape easier to see, and has changed the character of these uplands irrevocably.
Few places would have been so isolated to settle in – hot and dry in summer, and bitterly cold in winter.
Brothers Bert and Kem Feary were raised in a house that once stood just north of Rameka Creek, the family farming all the higher country around there.
Later, the two brothers kept a hut almost at the head of Rameka Creek, using it as a base for their fencing, trapping, milling and prospecting.
The external wall cladding was only sacks – little wonder that no trace of this rough and ready establishment remains. Feary Cres in Tākaka remembers this notable family today.
Some good finds of gold were known to be taken from streams on the Canaan plateau, mostly from the western side, but finders were always cagey.
One old prospector used to always reply “One spec” when asked what his returns were. Later, the man moved down to Kotinga to try his luck there, One Spec Creek and later his road taking its name from his evasive reply.
Another who grazed from East Tākaka up to Canaan was Reg Edmondson, who considered his half-bred merino ewes and lincoln rams the best mix for the terrain. “They didn’t lose their wool in the high country like romneys did,” he used to say.
One of the nuisances of early high country farming up there was how the wool would get “log-stained”, and bidibids would get stuck all through the wool, sometimes so thick they would effectively blind the lambs.
Needless to say, mutton was standard fare in all their diets – boiled, roasted or fried, and especially for Reg, in sandwiches which he would take out in his knapsack. Far less assured was income.
Reg would usually end up selling around 70% of his lambs away early, simply because he didn’t have enough good grass to fatten them on.
Prices for primary produce fluctuated wildly during the market-swinging 1920s and ’30s. Good lambs sold for as little as 1/6 each, while wethers sent by scow to Whanganui fetched no more than 1/9. Wool fluctuated between 3d and 5d per pound, a bale of wool worth little more than £5.
Canaan farmers survived day to day during this period, often relying on the goodwill and advances from stock firms like Buxtons to get them through the year.
It wasn’t until after World War II that prices for sheep produce stabilised. Despite the hurdles, Reg was considered a progressive farmer who made consistent gains in his farming practice, fencing off smaller paddocks of 30 to 40 acres, and introducing rotational grazing
Reg’s memories, along with lots of other fascinating pioneer stories, are well recorded in Canaan: The Hidden Land of the Marble Mountain, by E J Sixtus (1992).
The Sixtus family are well associated with Canaan. Johann and Henrietta Sixtus emigrated from Germany to live at Upper Moutere, but it was their son Friedrick (Joe) Sixtus who began farming at Canaan in 1919.
His son Edgar took over the farm from him, marrying Mona Downing in 1940. He was a keen rock and mineral collector and caving enthusiast, credited with many geological discoveries in the area.
Reading all their stories bought home to me just how into the outdoors these guys were – passionate about it they all were, in all their different ways.
Reg Edmondson recalls: “We’d get up before daybreak, taking a cut lunch and a billy. We’d muster around 400 yards apart from Dry River up to the tops, and then down to Rameka corner. It took around 10 hours. Lunchtime was something special. Dogs resting in the shade, tongues lolling. The smell of the billy and tall stories retold, a little added with every retelling. And what a grandstand view down the valley.”
Reg could always rely on assistance from friends and neighbouring farmers at these key times – the likes of Darcy Manson, Allan Manson, Tom Manson, Cliff Organ, Pat Bickley, and the Feary brothers.
Canaan’s rolling geography naturally flows down to the Pikikiruna Scarp, which plummets down to East Tākaka. Little wonder all the farmers up and down got on, supporting each other, and even playing rugby together.
In his early 1990s book, E J Sixtus mentions the institution which had lately evolved in and around Tākaka’s Telegraph Hotel, where “elderly gentlemen” of steep pastoral persuasions would congregate around or after midday, to reminisce or just chew the fat over their favourite tipples.
No one knows the scarp face better than Skeet Barnett, his steep East Tākaka farm being the venue for annual dog trials for half a century.
Now in his mid-90s, he still makes it into the “Tele” most afternoons for a chinwag with whoever turns up.
Some institutions have staying power, thanks to the characters involved. Long may all their stories get told, because they’re from an era we will never see again.