Stan the Man.

 

Stan the Man

Since the eighteen hundreds, visitors to New Zealand have been drawn to the Mackenzie where they can gaze at the sun going down on the magical but barren landscape, and where the sky is blue, the air is clean, and one can almost see into eternity.

That is true.  I kid you not!!

Many visitors came to the Mackenzie just to stand in awe of New Zealand's  highest mountain Mt Cook as it rose majestically at the head of Lake Pukaki to tower above the rest of an awe inspiring landscape.

Maori have named this mountain 'Aoraki'; The Cloud Piercer. 

However not all visitors came to observe and soak up this powerful vista.  Some of those first visitors to the region were a couple of Swiss climbers.  Messer's Kaufannm and Boss, who were accompanied by the Reverend R S Green an Irish mountaineer made an unsuccessful attempt to scale Mt Cook in 1883.

Against all odds they eventually made the uppermost crest although there was no doubt, according to history, had it not been for the physical stress and atrocious weather they would have made the summit.

That first Retreat or as it later became known as the 'Hermitage', a destination of world acclaim. That single story cob construction was erected near the face of the Mueller Glacier and to the leeward of Forest Hill in 1884.

In 1885 the New Zealand Government decided to take over the administration of this popular  tourist Retreat.  Eighteen years later with demands ever increasing there was talk of a new modern Retreat to be built two mile further down the valley. 

Many years later a second Hermitage was built.

Before I lay down my pen there is one piece of history that is seldom spoken of in official circles, perhaps due to embarrassment; it was never officially recorded. Yet survives in the memories of just a few.

As a result of a fire, the second Retreat was damaged, and Government at the time engaged out of town contractors to make repairs.  A shortage of labour in hat neck of the woods meant cooks, guides, handymen were all roped in to perform miracles.

Of Scottish decent, Stanley Guthrie, a guide in the Mt Cook National Park at that time, was one of those men.

Labouring for the building contractor was one thing, but being fed by the same contractor was another.

That contractor was claiming substantial  meal allowances, yet he was just supplying to the workers, tinned bully beef  for breakfast, lunch and the evening meal. 

It was not long before mutinous thoughts surfaced.  Those thoughts took on a colourful aspect when the workers heard the Clerk of Works, and several Government VIPs were to arrive from Wellington for an inspection of the work..

To improve their lot at the meal table a cunning plan was hatched by the workers to coincide with inspection day.

With that inspection in full swing that day, several workers in tidy cloths appeared on site, with what appeared to be a coffin.  Someone had obviously died, and a primitive service for the departed was underway.  At the head of that small column of mourners was number one practical joker Stanley Guthrie, playing a lament on his bagpipes.

The coffin was suitably draped with a large black cloth, topped with several bunches of the Mt Cook Lilly, a flower  recognized as a native in this part of the world.  Workers trouping behind, their eyes downcast.   VIPs removed their hats and stood to attention then respectfully joined the procession to where a grave had been dug on a nearby block of land.  Workers and VIPS gathered around the gravesite to hear one of the workers speak on behalf of the dearly departed.  He mumbled a few totally unintelligible, but somber words as the casket was lowered to the ground.

At this point the covering cloth was whipped off, exposing dozens of bully beef tins, packed to resemble a coffin .

As the planks and tins of beef slid into the hole, there was total silence, you could have heard a kea fart at twenty paces .

Some explanation was sought and given, to the many red faces in Government circles.

The meals that followed took on a new look, a new smell, and a much better taste from that day forward.

Stanley (Stan) Guthrie's days of  playing a part in practical jokes came to an end in 1972.  At the age of 80 years and in the arms of his family, he passed away.