Karen at the heart of it.

I started knitting before I started primary school at five years old.

Dad had made me knitting needles from wooden skewers taken from roast beef. Dad would sand the skewers to make them smooth.

I had a ball of wool and once knitted, I would pull it undone and start again.

Karen

We went to school at Whekenui in the whaling season. We had to walk over the hill, which is a fair hike for little kids. Many a time one of the parents had to walk us over because of the huge cows and bulls in the top paddock. If the weather was bad, we were all jammed below deck of one of the whale chasers and taken to school in the next bay. The noise of the motor was deafening.

We didn’t have power or electricity down there, so everything was done on the wood stove. Water was heated in a pot for our bath, which was tin and the paint was peeling off. I remember us kids being jammed in, one kid out and the next one in.

Every time we walked down to the station on the narrow pathway, I had a fear of falling into the sea. The blood and offal from the whales attracted tuere, or blind eels. They are also called snot eels, because they release massive amounts of thick sticky slime. The sea boiled with these eels, there were so many. Mum said, at that time, she would have fed us the eels and whale meat.

Another disgusting thing was the smell. Sixty odd years later I took my sons and grandchildren down to visit, and I’m sure the smell was still there. Some of the grandkids went for a swim in the bay and the water was so clear.

I remember there was always something to do. Heaps of kids from other families. Reeves, Huntley, Skippers, Nortons. All pretty much related.

We couldn’t swim in the bay at that time because of the offal and blood from the whales. We had the little creek to play in, and would slide down the hills on cardboard boxes and anything we could find.

Sometimes they would have a movie night for the families. All the women at the station would dress in their finest, with hair done beautifully and red lipstick.

I was only five years old when Dad caught the two great white sharks. I was shut in the bach, and all he could hear was me at the window calling out “Daddy, Daddy”. I only shut up when he came back to shore.

Being the only girl with six brothers, for a while, I was lucky. We all looked after each other. There would have had to have been seven of us kids down there at one time. Mum had twins next. I don’t know how she would have coped.

We grew up without money or fancy things, but I would not change anything.

I had knitting needles in my hands. My happy place. If anyone wanted something made, they would give me wool and a pattern.

Karen

My other passions are researching our family history and whakapapa, the family trees, and quilting and embroidery.

My dad told me once, before he died, that I reminded him of his mother, Hariata. That is the highest praise anyone could get.

At the end of this year I will take my korowai back to Waitangi House, north of Auckland, to meet my grandmother, Hariata, who was one of the weavers of the Bledisloe Chair.