An industry of change
A month out from the World Shearing Championships, Briar Babington takes a look at an industry that has long been a part of the Kiwi landscape.
It’s not a calling which beckons a lot of people, but for those who are drawn to the buzzing of clippers sliding their way over a sheep, shearing is a craft they are dedicated to.
Sheep numbers peaked in the early 80s at 70 million, but in recent years that number has dropped closer to 30 million.
As the sheep numbers have declined, so have the numbers of people shearing them.
Looking back on his 34-year career, Lorneville shearer Darin Forde remembers the days when rural town halls were filled to the walls with people watching on at local shearing competitions.
‘‘Years ago you used to have competitions in the hall that were chocka with people, 70 or 80 of them’’ he says.
‘‘Nowadays it’s probably half that.’’
And it’s more than hard work – that certainly has not changed.
‘‘There’s not a lot of jobs where you’ve got to take a sweat towel to work,’’ he says.
‘‘Some days I’d lose 2 to 3 kilos, especially in the heat.’’
Fewer sheep in New Zealand, while no revelation, is one of the biggest changes shearers have seen in the industry.
Those who were once able to shear fulltime in one region now have to travel around the country, and some head oversees seeking out work year round.
World shearing and woolhandling championships New Zealand team member Nathan Stratford remembers a time in his 20-year career when he could find fulltime work in the Southland region.
Now, he spends three to four months of his year shearing in Central Otago.
It’s a long time to be away from family, but a love for meeting new and different people is one of the best things about it.
‘‘Lawyers, uni students ... it [shearing] teaches all walks of life,’’ he says.
But with those new people has come the next generation of shearers, and Stratford is not sure if some of the younger ones are up for the brutal days on the job.
He has seen many a young man walk in, ready to make some good money, only to walk out on the job at the end of the day because he wasn’t up for the sheer physicality of the job.
‘‘They hear all these good stories about the money but they don’t realise how hard they work in the industry,’’ he says.
Despite seeing his fair share of young people in the sheds, Stratford knows it’s important to be reaching out to the younger ones.
‘‘If you don’t bring younger ones through, you’re not going to have shearers in 10 years,’’ he says.
‘‘It’s sad but if they’re not prepared to put in the efforts then you don’t get the rewards.’’
That is something that New Zealand Shearing Contractors Association president Jamie McConachie knows a bit about.
He says there has been a ‘‘hiccup’’ in the past couple of years, because the industry lost its training.
However, about six months ago, the Shearing Contractors Association set up Te Ako, a training provider for those in the shearing industry.
‘‘We’ve got back what we’ve lost ... I’m pleased to see that going again to teach our younger generation,’’ McConachie says.
Despite the sentiments of his fellow shearers, he has faith in the younger generation.
‘‘We can’t use the same ideology we did 15-20 years ago because what worked with them then doesn’t necessarily work with them today,’’ he says.
Shearers visiting from overseas, however, still make the trip to New Zealand and they make up some much needed numbers during the height of the season, which is their winter.
Most come from the UK – Ireland, Wales, Scotland – but there are a few here and there from Europe, the United States and Australia.
‘‘They come here, not necessarily to make money, because they lose some on the way back with the exchange rate, but for experience,’’ he says.
‘‘Traditionally you always come here to learn how to shear better.’’
McConachie wasn’t sure on the numbers, but says they are sorely needed during the New Zealand summer.
‘‘We do rely on overseas employees coming into the country for that peak summer main shear,’’ he says.
But the stress of finding enough people to shear is just one thing on people’s minds.
‘‘We’re starting to get quite a few farmers investing in their shearing sheds and that’s great,’’ he says.
Seeing that investment was encouraging, because getting a sheep farmer to stay a sheep farmer, especially with generational turnover, was difficult, he says.
To cope, some farmers were opting to shear three times over two years, rather than four. ‘‘It’s pure economics,’’ he says. Wool prices were down by $1.50 on this time last year and the meat value had also dropped, making it difficult for farmers to keep a decent profit, McConachie says.
‘‘For them [sheep farmers] it’s got to be disappointing,’’ he says.
‘‘They do their best inside the farm gate but it’s out of their control beyond the farm.’’
But at the end of the day, McConachie thinks the basics of being a shearer still remain.
‘‘Fundamentally our job hasn’t changed in the past 80 years - you pull out a sheep and shear it,’’ he says.
And despite the hardships Darin Forde, and many other shearers, had seen, he wouldn’t change a thing.
‘‘When I look back at my career, I’d do it all over again.’’
While the industry may have changed, there seems to be a real buzz around the upcoming World Shearing Championships.
Stadium Southland general manager Nigel Skelt said ticket sales leading up to the event had been very strong.
‘‘At the moment we’re 80 per cent sold on ticket sales – we’re absolutely staggered with the numbers so far.
‘‘Never in our wildest dreams did we expect we would be hosting a world shearing championships, just because of the logistics involved.
‘‘But it’s a great opportunity for Stadium Southland – we want to create Australasia’s largest shearing shed.’’