Gloriavale could be in for a shakeup
WHENEVER I read of the Gloriavale community on the West Coast, as I did last week on the death of its controversial and convicted founder Hopeful Christian, aka Neville Cooper, I wonder if members are aware of what they are sitting on.
The Alpine Fault, a more than 800kmlong gash in the earth’s surface running from close to Milford Sound up into Marlborough’s Wairau River Valley, goes pretty much right through the middle of Gloriavale’s hall at Haupiri.
The fault, which is where the Pacific and Australian crustal plates meet, can be seen on satellite images and Google Maps as a relatively straight line slightly west of the main divide. The last time it ruptured was in 1717 and, with a roughly 300year return period, it may not be far from generating another major earthquake of around magnitude 8.0.
A couple of years ago, scientists discovered the fault zone is a potential source of hot water. More work is being done now on how that could be harnessed from the depths for the benefit of West Coasters. Never ones to miss a canny commercial opportunity, and already the owner of a drilling company, it’s probably no surprise Gloriavale is among those which has given $20,000 towards making that a reality.
There has been a fair bit of hot air generated by the late Mr Christian over the years, so hot water is probably a natural new venture for the community to move into.
In fact, let’s hope that geothermal water turns out to be a great moneyspinner for many on the Coast. But all the time the Alpine Fault slumbers away in the background, and nobody knows when it is going to wake up and ruin the party.
Orwell’s ‘1984’
Oh dear. I’m guilty of unclear writing.
Dunedin author Philip Temple has pulled me up over my calculations regarding George Orwell’s 1984 masterpiece.
‘‘Sums, Paul, sums!’’, he says. ‘‘Orwell wrote 1984 in 1948, reversing the last two digits for his novel title — therefore, 70 years ago, not 35!’’
When I wrote in this column last week these words — ‘‘made me think of the society Orwell envisaged for that year nearly 35 years ago’’ — I actually meant 1984 was nearly 35 years ago, not 1948, when he finished writing the book.
So, fair cop for ambiguous writing, Philip. But I can assure you my maths isn’t quite that bad!
More Mt Cargill
Donald Myers got in touch last week with his memories of climbing Dunedin’s volcanic landmark. Coming from the west coast of the United States, he wanted to see the sun rising from the sea.
‘‘When I first arrived in Dunedin in 1964 I immediately wanted to reach the top of Mt Cargill,’’ he said.
‘‘I took the afternoon off one day in October that year and bussed to the Normanby terminus. Then I walked up the winding road north, through the ‘gap’ and on to the top farm.
‘‘Cutting through the farm in the general direction of the top of Mt Cargill, I found myself crawling through bush, tearing free of bush lawyer and climbing over large boulders and rocky projections.
‘‘It was nearly dark when I reached the tussock grass on top, so I crawled between rocks and pulled my pack and a horse blanket over my legs.
‘‘A young woman walking her horse near Bethunes Gully had loaned me the blanket when I said I didn’t have a sleeping bag but wanted to spend the night on top to see for myself how the sun rose from the sea in this part of the world. I’m from California.
‘‘It was a warm night and the sun did as it always does. Back at work the next day I was warned of blizzards here, even in October.
‘‘Since that first climb, I have been on Mt Cargill countless times and always enjoyed the walk, as it has been, since the track was built.’’
Thanks Donald. I can understand that desire to see the sun rise/set into the sea. On frequent visits to Westport, as an east coaster, it’s always been a thrill to watch the sun drop into the Tasman Sea.
Duck overkill
Niven Telfer’s duckshooting tale shows how sometimes you don’t see things that are directly in your sights.
He says during the season he and his mates are always grateful to stay at Al Robbie’s old farmhouse on Burning Plain Rd at Popotunoa, near Clydevale.
‘‘It’s got this doubleup ducky wallpaper as well, which we did not notice for a couple of years. It’s kinda embarrassing we didn’t, being keen duck hunters and all.’’
Clever camouflage, I reckon.