When I started this, I was planning to lay it all out in chronological order.
It seems that this may not work, as I am now having random memories pop into my head about all sorts of things, so while I will try to keep it in order, I will be bouncing back and forth from primary school years to college years and back again as the memories come.
While my stories will pretty much involve me, I kinda want it to be more about my era. That is, from 1970ish to starting college in 1978 (Thank you Debbie) moving on to entering the work force (none of that university hooha for me), through to reaching fully responsible adulthood……..hopefully some time soon.
I’m pretty sure how I remember things will pretty much be how other people of this era remember them too.
That said, I’m going to be sharing some stories that are not common knowledge…..of course, these stories will involve another person who just happened to look identical to me.
I also want this to pretty much lay it out to teenagers and young adults that what they get up to is not new, they are not inventing the shit they do, we all did it.
We did it, our parents did it, their parents did it.
Of course we all THOUGHT we were the first to do it while we were actually doing it.
If you don’t know what I’m talking about you must have lived a very sheltered life.

So, I’m sure this will be a load of boring old bollocks for a lot of people.I’m also sure that the people I grew up with around the North Beach area, and indeed those who grew up in those ‘other’ parts of Kapiti around the same time will see similarities and it may even jog a few of their own memories, good and bad.

What this isn’t meant to be, is an accurate account of times and dates. If I mention a date, it will likely be approximate.
If a date is important to the telling of a particular story, I will research it to make sure it’s correct.
Otherwise, it very probably doesn’t matter a fuck what the date was, it’s just a memory.

Finally, please feel free to share my ramblings with others if you think they may be interested.

Until next time, when Peter Giles and Terry the Tickler will feature prominently.

As much as I respected that man, the fucker did not like it when a kid was better at padda tennis (Or should that be paddle tennis…..I never really knew)  than he was and then stood up to him.

Before my journey through Form 1 and 2 continues, I have been reminded of some more old memories.

Some time I’m guessing around the time of the destroying of the plaque on the Maori Arch, there was another incident worthy of note.
As kids, we frequently made the trek through the track from the end of the Maori Arch section through to the Donavan Road park/playground.
As the track was through the lupins and blackberries etc that were where Te Atiawa Park is now, there obviously were quite a few hazards such as prickles.
One day, my older brother – thinking he was doing a good thing for his 2 younger brothers – went back home and returned with a box of matches!
This was something he had watched Dad and uncle Pete do back on the farm at Emerald Glen with gorse and the like.
A controlled burn off.
Well, a burn off, yes. Controlled, no.
We spent the next few hours watching the local fire brigade trying to stop the scrub fire consuming the whole of the future Te Atiawa Park!
Again, from memory nobody ever got in trouble for this incident.
It seems we are already developing a knack for ‘getting away’ unscathed……….
This must have been some time around 1970ish, although I may be wrong.

As the years progressed there were in fact quite a few fires started by various neighbourhood kids in the scrub although none came close to the epic scale of my older brothers effort.

Before I continue my tales, I am going to share some random memories of my old ‘hood’.
We grew up as I have said, at the beach end of Mazengarb Road, number 12.
We were right next to what we referred to then, and still do now, The Maori Arch.

My older brother told me one day that behind the plaque which was screwed onto a wooden block set into the stone work of the archway there were a whole bunch of matchbox cars. All I had to do, was smash the plaque and the cars would be mine. A small Tomahawk from the garage, one swing, plaque in a hundred pieces, no fucking matchbox cars, just a brother almost peeing himself laughing.
If my memory serves correctly, I don’t think I ever got in trouble for this act of vandalism.
I would have been about 6 years old.

We were surrounded by other families most of whom also were long haul Kapiti folks.Most of us kids were all around the same ages so a lot of time was spent kicking around with the neighbours.

Random  memories:
Hadfield place was a dead end, with a dirt track heading towards the beach which led into the Mud Flats (The muddies) We used to spend hours as kids watching older dudes hooning in their cars and motorbikes.

Also from the end of Hadfield Place, but in the other direction was another dirt/sand track heading off in the general direction of Otaihanga.. a few hundred metres down this track was a big sandy area like a valley. This we called the Sand Bowl. Many hours were spent in there on push bikes, old car bonnets and later on, motorbikes and even cars.

Olive Terrace didn’t exist. that was called ‘Turners Track’ as it was pretty much a walking track that went straight through to manly Street. The Turners lived at the start of the track, hence the name.

Manly Street stopped just north of Ngapotiki Street, and Manly Street extension started just south of Watson Drive. There was no road linking the 2, this was to come later. The north end of Manly Street extension stopped before the seeping corner that is there now.

Rangiatea Street and Michael Road were dead ends – That part of Manly Street and Kotuku Park was was pretty much sand dunes and blackberries etc.

Mazengard Road stopped between Michael road and Walton road. Where Paraparaumu College is now, was the Polwart Farm.  At time this was probably most well known for being the venue for motor cross events.
It was also rumoured, although never actually proven or seen that if you were seen trespassing on this land the farmers son would shoot you!! Good enough reason for this kid to stay the fuck away from there.

I guess it was around 1976-77 and Paraparumu College must have been under construction, although I don’t really remember……more about that a bit later.

The KenaKena shops.Ngans fruit and vege shop, Ngans Fish and chip shop, the Post Office……yes, the Post Office, A book and toy shop, the butcher shop, and the dairy. That was it, and every one of those shops was able to survive back then…..how times have changed!

Funny, I don’t remember anywhere being called ‘KenaKena’ back then. When did that start?

Many many hours were spent outside the Ngans shops around guy Fawkes time.Double Happys, Tom thumbs, Sparklers, Jumping Jacks, Sky rockets. Sometimes up to about 30 kids letting off crackers and nobody seemed to mind!!!!
To the best of my knowledge and memory, nobody ever got hurt, although I may be wrong.

Te Atiawa Park didn’t exist. The whole area now occupied by Te Atiawa Park was horse paddocks, lupins and blackberries.
Where the BMX track is now, was just a playground….slide, jungle gym, swings, one of those awesome old rocking horse things that could hold about 6 people, and an awesome tree to climb. All of these things were capable of causing serious injury, and indeed they did many times although luckily never to me.
There was also a couple of decent grass areas that were the home of many an epic rugby test match involving many local kids.
It was at this park around age 11 or 12 that I discovered that I had a serious allergy to wasp stings.
I was stung multiple times when one of the fuckers got down the back of my t shirt, and within half an hour I was starting to resemble the Goodyear Blimp.
Long story short, Mum got me to the doctor, I got pinged up with antihistamines and adrenalin and came right fairly quickly.
The only other time I got stung by a wasp was on my tongue while swigging beer from a can which was much scarier and potentially life threatening……hard to breath when your tongue swells up and starts to close shit off where oxygen needs to get to!
That full story comes much later as i was in my 20s when it happened.

So, when I continue, I will be in form 1 at Paraparaumu Beach School.
This is around the time I started to have a crack at smoking cigarettes.
Hey, both Mum and Dad and all there friends smoked, it must be cool, right?

Ok, so now you have a brief insight as to where I came from.

Although I have some very sketchy memories of Emerald Glen when I was a little fulla, my earliest vivid memory is of attending Kindy at the St Johns Hall (I think that’;s what it was called) in Knight Avenue Paraparaumu Beach.
The hall isn’t even there any more, some clever dude decided it would be pretty cool to build a couple of houses there instead.
Anyway, I recall one horrible day at kindy when it was morning tea time and I went to get my kindy case which contained my ‘play lunch’.
Well as I recall, My little grey kindy case was one of about 30 other identical cases and I couldn’t for the life if me find mine!
When I did, I discovered that Mum had put in there a Pear (along with other stuff I don’t remember’.
This pear, as it turned out was not ready to be eaten and was in fact so hard I was unable to even bite it!
Yes, there were tears, full drama.
Fuck Mum, what were you thinking?

From there, it was off to primary school at Paraparaumu beach School.
I remember one day being in the car with my parents and 2 brothers when Mum and Dad starting talking about getting me ‘enrolled’ at school.
This scared the shit out of me because I had no idea what ‘enrolled’ meant….to me it had something to with a steam roller and I wasn’t having a fucking bar of it.
Yes, more tears, another full drama.
Day one at school.
Mrs Latham, lovely lady, great teacher from what I recall.
I guess my early years at Pram Beach School were much like everyone elses, we just went to school, did our shit and went home again,.
The one point of difference from then to now I think is the fact that back then, all of us kids either walked to school, or rode a bike that was capable of all the shit kids do on bikes nowadays and more!
It seems nowadays kids all get a ride to school in a fucking great 4 wheel drive or a flash car that mum has to work 50 hours a week to pay for.
Back then, when school started/finished, there was rarely a car in sight.

I recall one day when I was only about 5 or 6 and my older brother who was 7 or 8 was charged with making sure I got to and from school as mum was at work (That’s how we rolled back then)
Anyway, we made it to Michael Road on the way home which was a lot of empty sections back then and I needed a wee.
I was wearing my really cool grey school shorts with a buttons instead of a zip, and I couldn’t get the fucking buttons undone.
My bro was having no part of undoing my pants, and kept walking while I stood there stuggling with my buttons.
End result, I pissed my pants.

So pretty much my first few years at school were rather mundane I guess.
Met some really good mates who are still mates today, although I don’t see as much of them as I’d like.

The next stage of my story starts a little later on when I was around when I got to about form 1, and thanks to my ole man, discovered this fucking great game called rugby.
I discovered that while I enjoyed playing it, I was actually pretty fuckin good at it too.
many hours were spent on the field at Pram Beach school at lunch time and after school honing my skills at kickinjg goals and shit.
My dad was heavily involved in Paraparaumu rugby, and was the President for I think about 5 years running, although I can’t recall the actual years.
Our whole life back then was rugby, rugby club, rugby practice, rugby sleep, rugby eat, rugby every fucking thing.
We loved it.
A lot.
Anyway, around this time this well known rugby player moved to Waikanae.
There was no Waikanae rugby club then, so this dude played for Paraparaumu.
His name: Joe Karam.
I was in awe of this man, he was my fuckin hero, and now him and my dad were drinking beer together and talking shit.
They were great mates.
How unbelievably fucking cool is that!!
One day, he even brought his best mate to out place to drink beer with the ole man……Grant Batty!!
I even got to interview Joe for a school project which was very cool.
he even wrote me a special little note and signed it for me.
I treasured that for years, although I lost it long ago.

Around this time, I met the 2 people who influenced my rugby hugely.

One was my teacher, Peter Giles, the other was my best mates ole man, Tony Cook.

That’s where we start next time……

What’s this all about?

Well, after posting a few memories on Facebook a couple of days ago, a lot of old memories of growing up on the Kapiti Coast – Paraparaumu Beach in particular – came flooding back.

Since I enjoy writing, I figured, what the fuck, I might start a blog and document my life growing up in a family that was/is, True Blue, Hardcore Kapiti Coast since forever.

My plan is to quietly wander through my childhood, documenting what I remember of growing up in Kapiti, eventually arriving at the present day. I was born in 1964, so my earliest memories really begin around 1968-69 around the time of starting school at Paraparaumu Beach School in Gray Ave.

This will contain a fair amount of swearing, eventually there will be references to various (mostly harmless) criminal activities, possibly some violence and generally things that may offend you if you are offended by such things.

A lot of my memories obviously involve other people who I will not be naming.

I will make no apologies along the way, Anywhere an apology was necessary, apology was made.

So, that’s where this is headed, if you want to come along for the ride, all good. If not, that’s OK too.

A brief history:

Captain Henry Lynch arrived in New Zealand in 1846 and was immediately sent to work doing his part in what we now refer to as ‘The Maori Wars’. In around 1852 he was granted a block of land for his services in the “Maori Wars’ which he named ‘Emerald Glen’ and consisted of the land from about McKays crossing in the south to somewhere around the Maungakotukutuku Road – as understand it and without researching accurate boundaries.

My understanding is that the Mackay family (south) and the Howell family (north) acquired the bordering land in the same way.
Emerald Glen was farmed by the Lynch family through the generations until around 1967-68 when it was sold for reasons nobody in the family has ever actually told me.

From there, when I was around 3 years old we moved out to a relatively new subdivision at the beach end of Mazengarb Road, where we remained until …..a long time later!

That is pretty much where my memories begin, so that is where I start my journey through my brain.

None of what I write is an invitation to take a pop at me or my family, so don’t even fuckin’ start.