4 January 2017 Brakehead, Denniston, Westland

We left Reefton yesterday morning in the rain which followed us all the way through to Westport and continued to hang about. I had forgotten how very beautiful the Lower Buller Gorge is, even in such inclement conditions; there is something so atmospheric about narrow gorges, native bush and forceful rivers. The road follows the flow of the river, twisting and turning and passing along narrow rocky ledges above the river, in places where you need to be wary of oncoming traffic. At Hawkes Crag there is plenty of visability; it is simply a matter of courtesy to give way or graciously be given way to, but the longer stretch where there are portable traffic lights, yesterday were not in operation. We did meet oncoming traffic who were easily able to back up and were glad we were not a minute later when we would have found ourselves head to head with a motorhome at least a similar size to ours. Now that could have been a battle of wills, or simply a matter of the passengers of each having to do points duty.

South Beach

Westport has dragged itself out of the doldrums and is most welcoming of tourists, almost vibrant even on such a soggy day. If reports in the Christchurch Press are to be believed,  the town is a cesspit of P – users and dopeheads, a hopeless backwater, but that is not what we have seen in the short time we have been here, and given we have been here at least twice before, we do have the advantage of comparison.

However rain is rain wherever you are, and if there is no good reason to be out in it, better to be tucked up in the warmh and security of one’s home. We made our way to the seashore and settled into the NZMCA park over property at South Beach. Chris read and I cooked up a batch of meals for the freezer.

After dinner there was a window of better weather and so we donned our raincoats and set out down to the beach, but no sooner did we arrive, the rain returned. We sought refuge on a cycle track through regenerating bush, a track of about three kilometres that winds this way and that, then back on itself, to gain maximum mileage in the smallest space. Wekas scrurried for cover as we walked along and other birds communicated their displeasure at the disruption of their bedtime. It was very unusual for us to be out and about after dinner.

This morning after finding the old laundry, tried and true, to no longer exist, we settled into the muddle of a backpackers’ hostel and used theirs. We looked rather out of place amongst the young travellers however needs must and washing machines and dryers are the same here as anywhere else.

Over lunch beside the Orawhaiti Lagoon, that which took my great grandfather’s grave with many others in a far distance past, we decided to head for Denniston for the afternoon. The rain looked like it had cleared at last and I was keen to maximize fine weather opportunities.

The eight kilometre road from the coastal road at Waimangaroa winds steeply up the escarpment, a wide sealed route but surely hard work for a motorhome engine. We detoured near the bottom to Conns Creek to check out the ruins at the bottom of the incline. From here one can look up the route of that engineering miracle to middle break, but not walk up too far. The bridge has long laid in bits in the gully below, and this is for looking, not touching.

There we fell into conversation with a youngish couple who were out for the day with their six children, the oldest just eight and the youngest still a chubby baby in arms. All but the latter were down in the creek looking for enough gold for Dad to buy a house here on the west coast. They were a happy lot, but I had the impression that Dad did not do too much work apart from seeding more progeny and filling in new applications at the government offices to meet the cost of each new edition. Both Chris and I thought they would fit in well to West Coast life should they be able to secure the $60,000 property they had spotted for sale “just up the road”.

Looking down over the shed area of Brakehead

Up at Brakehead, we were amazed at the changes made by DOC and Solid Energy to make this historical area even more tourist friendly than it was when we saw it twice before. We found ourselves a spot on the edge of a cliff between some vegetation, near the sign that gave blessing to certified fully self-contained vehicles to park up for the night, next to another whose occupants were obviously planning to do the same. Then we set off around the Brakehead walk, one advertised as a forty minute 1.1 kilometre loop, but currently not a loop and certainly taking a lot longer than the time suggested if you stop to read all the interpretative panels. Like Waiutu, but much better, much of the past has been well documented by photograph and these are well displayed.

A coal wagon poised at the top of the incline

We are near Brakehead at the top of the Dennison Incline from where coal was lowered the 518 metres from up in the clouds of the Rochfort Plateau to Conns Creek railway yard at the base of the hill. Eight full wagons travelled the incline every day, around three hundred and fifty tonnes of coal which was in turn was transported to Westport wharf. The first wagon of coal left Denniston in this fashion in 1880 and the last in August 1967, after almost eighty eight years. A drop in demand for coal coupled with high maintenance costs put paid to the operation.

Like Waiutu, Denniston is a ghost town, these days a collection of ruins, history and walking opportunities. During the one hundred years of mining, Denniston coal was hewn from different mines scattered across the Plateau; Whareatea, Escarpment, Coalbrookdale, Ironbridge, Sullivan, Cascade Section and Traceys Section and Banbury. Settlements spread beyond that Brakehead at Denniston as more miners arrived and mines opened. The population of the Plateau peaked in 1911 at just over 1,400 inhabitants.

Looking up to Brakehead

The two settlements of Denniston and Burnetts Face had grown rapidly and by 1900, each had a library, school, post office and telephone rooms, as well as shops and hotels. Denniston always had the edge also having the police station, fire station, school of mines, volunteer hall and four churches. Later a hospital, high school, bowling green, swimming baths, recreation grounds and tennis courts were added.

After spending a couple of hours exploring the immediate area around Brakehead, we retreated to our campspot and settled in for the evening, glad the weather is still looking hopeful for tomorrow. We have plans for redoing walks of yesteryear.