From Heritage New Zealand, Spring 2008

by Heather Ramsay

No matter who owns which bit, one part of our rail system has been central to the nation for more than 100 years

At 10pm on 7 August 1908, a locomotive let forth an earsplitting whistle and belched steam into Wellington’s dark midwinter sky. To the cheers of passengers and onlookers, it hissed slowly away from the station, hauling a string of carriages out of the capital and, ultimately, into New Zealand history.

The train was the Parliamentary Special, and, when it rumbled into Auckland 20 hours and 30 minutes later, it had become the first train to travel the full length of the North Island Main Trunk Line.

On board were parliamentarians and dignitaries on their way to greet President Roosevelt’s Great White Fleet, 16 steam and steel battleships showcasing America’s naval might on a circumnavigation of the world. The North Island Main Trunk Line wasn’t scheduled for completion until November but, when it was realised that the north and south sections were close to being joined near Ohakune, a temporary line was laid. Thus, as the pride of America sailed into Auckland, New Zealand’s own engineering and transportation sectors moved into a new era, an era that would unite a country of far-flung provinces as a nation

Those on the parliamentary junket no doubt relished the chance to be part of such a formative event, but there must have been moments when they lamented their participation. Conditions in the carriages were basic. Passengers slept upright in hard seats; there was little heating to mitigate the frigid conditions; and several changes of locomotive were needed to deal with the variance in tracks and terrain. However, by the time Premier Sir Joseph Ward symbolically drove in the last spike, at Manganui-o-te-ao near Horopito, on 6 November 1908, the Railways Department was ready to carry long-haul passengers in a far more comfortable style.

The notion of a railway line linking Wellington and Auckland was first mooted in the 1860s, but it was the 1870 Public Works and Immigration Scheme of Colonial Treasurer Julius Vogel that truly laid the foundation for the nation’s railway network. His vision was to borrow huge sums to build trunk lines in both islands, connecting to a series of branch lines and with interisland vessels.

When he presented his ambitious scheme to the House of Representatives, it was greeted with a mixture of astonishment, ridicule and cautious support; nevertheless, the Public Works and Immigration Act was passed, paving the way for accelerated construction of railways to begin.

By the end of the decade, more than 1700 kilometres had been added to the paltry 74 kilometres of existing public railway track, but it could hardly be described as a network. The piecemeal lines were an indication of the non-unified state of the nation, which was essentially a series of provinces, each looking after its own interests.

Most railway lines merely ran inland from points on the coast, transporting people and goods to and from coastal steamers, but not linking with other lines. However, during that time, the South Island Main Trunk from Christchurch to Invercargill was completed, reflecting the comparative wealth of the south.

By the early 1880s, a network of sorts was taking shape in the North Island, and lines had crept south from Auckland to Te Awamutu and north from Wellington to Marton. It was time to revisit the vexed question of the North Island Main Trunk. It was thought a likely route lay to the west of Lake Taupo, but exploration had been stymied by supporters of Kingitanga, who had taken refuge in this rugged region after the Waikato Wars of the 1860s. Allies Ngati Maniapoto gave protection to King Tawhiao and his followers, drawing an aukati, or boundary line, at the Puniu River, which flows through the Pureora Forest and joins the Waipa River at Pirongia. Known as the King Country to Pakeha and Rohe Potae to Maori, the area south of the aukati was off limits to Pakeha, and thus remained unexplored and unmapped.

After the bloodshed and land confiscations of the 1860s, Maori living in the King Country were wary of Government approaches to build a railway through its heart. But, in 1882, progressive Maniapoto chiefs Rewi Maniapoto and Wahanui Huatere softened their stance, paving the way for surveyors to find the most suitable rail route.

In June 1883, civil engineer and surveyor John Rochfort set out to explore the isolated country between Marton and Te Awamutu. Basic surveys of the land as far north as present-day Waiouru existed, and triangulation of the northern sector was just beginning. That was no help to Rochfort, who faced a formidable task. The terrain was physically challenging, with vast tracts of dense native forest, swamps, bluffs, deep gorges and valleys carved out by swift rivers, an inhospitable volcanic plateau and seemingly impassable gradients.

With no existing points of reference, Rochfort could use only the highest peaks, which themselves had not been accurately plotted on any map, as markers. And, as well as making a general survey of the route, he was obliged to make detailed observations of the region’s geology and topography, make judgments on whether the land was suitable for economic development, estimate the route’s length accurately, note possible construction difficulties, and estimate costs.

There were also Maori who disagreed with the decision to open up the region. Several times during the 16-month exploration, Rochfort’s party was threatened, turned back or detained. Finally, the combined efforts of various politicians, respected Whanganui chief and police officer Te Keepa Te Rangihiwinui (Major Kemp) and chiefs Rewi Maniapoto and Wahanui Huatere peacefully allayed the remaining opposition, and Rochfort was able to complete his work.

At the same time as Rochfort’s expedition, reconnaissance teams were sent east and west to ascertain whether there were viable routes through Hawke’s Bay or Taranaki. Reports on all possibilities were presented to a select committee, which recommended Rochfort’s central route. The decision meant that conditions required to bring the North Island Main Trunk Loan Act into action were fulfilled, and work on the long-held dream could begin.

On 15 April 1885, hundreds of people travelled by train from Auckland to the railhead at Te Awamutu, all eager to see the official turning of the first sod on the line. The ceremony took place on the south side of the Puniu River, thus crossing the aukati. In another symbolic gesture, it was Wahanui Huatere who turned the first sod, ably assisted by Premier Robert Stout and Rewi Maniapoto.

In the same month, construction contracts were granted for sections of line at the Marton and Te Awamutu ends, marking the start of 23 years of extraordinary endeavour in conditions that could kindly be described as “challenging”. As well as facing enormous engineering challenges, the project was dogged by harsh climatic conditions, access and supply difficulties, political wrangling and procrastination, and economic recession. At times, construction almost ground to a standstill, leaving works such as the one-kilometre long Poro-o-Tarao tunnel to languish unconnected for many years.

Still, while governments, ministers and world events came and went, tent towns mushroomed in the bush along the length of the route. Engineers pondered solutions to taming the tough terrain, resulting in some of the country’s most remarkable engineering achievements.

Foremost was the ingenious Raurimu Spiral, which was designed in 1898 by engineer Robert West Holmes to mitigate a sudden 218-metre drop in elevation from the Central Plateau to Raurimu.

The 11 kilometres of track took 10 years to complete and includes two tunnels, three horseshoe curves and a complete circle. An oft-repeated railway story tells of a goods train driver who applied his emergency brake when he spied red tail lights on the track ahead. However, it turned out that his engine had caught up with the tail end of his own long train and the lights were those of his guard’s van.

Magnificent viaducts also form an integral part of the main trunk line, and engineer Peter Seton Hay is credited with the design of the structures at Makohine, Mangaweka, Hapuawhenua, Taonui, Manganui-a-te-ao and Makatote.

While Holmes, Hay and other engineers deserve every accolade, tribute should also be paid to the nameless navvies who toiled with little more than pick, shovel, horse, bullock and dray to tame unstable pumice fields and hard volcanic rock to bridge deep ravines and conquer steep hillsides. Most workers, and often their families, lived in government-issue tents, which had the luxury of wooden floors but little else in the way of home comforts. Since work was long-term, many boarded up the tents with timber milled from the expansive forests, and installed fireplaces with corrugated chimneys.

It was a hard life and, considering the conditions and time span, it’s surprising that there were no multiple fatalities during construction, although a small number of individuals lost their lives in accidents.

The behaviour of the railway gangs was also generally commended, possibly aided by the prohibition of alcohol in the King Country, which endured until 1954. There were incidents of sly-grogging, illegal two-up schools, and rowdiness but, as a rule, hard work took precedence over high times.

As the railway progressed, so did settlement of the interior. For many towns, the railway was the reason for their existence, with schools, shops, boarding houses, ironworks, brickworks and machine shops established to service the rail industry. Soon, such settlements also began to service sawmilling and farming communities that followed the advance of the railway.

Even before the line was officially opened, passengers could travel by a mix of regular and Public Works trains to the railheads at either Ohakune or Raurimu, then take a coach service to connect with the train waiting at the opposite end. The NZHPT Category I-registered Ohakune-Horopito Old Coach Road is a remnant from that time. These first trains were often mixed goods and passenger trains, resulting in passengers spending long periods waiting while goods wagons were shunted into position. The journey took three days, with overnight stops at both Taihape and Taumarunui.

Three days after Ward drove in the ceremonial silver spike (which is now held at Te Papa), the line was officially open. But, while the Parliamentary Special made a through trip, the first public passengers still had to make one overnight stop. Northbound travellers stayed the night in Ohakune, and those heading south stayed in Taumarunui.

Passengers also changed trains twice, connecting with the Rotorua express at Frankton, and the New Plymouth-Wellington mail train at Marton.

Limitations such as a lack of beds in the towns and insufficient seating on connecting trains led to the introduction of through trains for the peak Christmas holiday period of 1908. These were a precursor to the inaugural Main Trunk express trains, the first of which left Auckland on 14 February 1909. By then, the Railways Department had installed the necessary instrumentation along the route, and its busy workshops rolled out shiny new locomotives and day, sleeper and dining cars for the new services.

Thousands turned out to inspect the new trains and watch their departure, which heralded a new period in transport and communication for the country. Not only did the line connect Auckland and Wellington, arrival and departure times were co-ordinated with the Wellington-Lyttelton steamer service, which connected with the South Island Main Trunk.

New Zealanders took to train travel with gusto, whether for recreational or business purposes. The ensuing decades on the line saw various new structures built, as well as changes to existing structures, deviations and realignments, with the most significant changes happening during electrification in the 1980s.

The trains themselves were also subject to technological advances, with diesel locomotives replacing steam in the 1950s and early ’60s. In the 1960s and ’70s, swish newpassenger services bearing monikers such as Blue Streak, Silver Fern, Silver Star and Northerner became synonymous with the line.

In 1962, the connection between North and South Islands was streamlined with the introduction of the Aramoana, the first road/rail ferry to operate between Wellington and Picton.

The importance of the line to our built heritage is evident in the number of North Island Main Trunk line structures on the NZHPT Register, and the trains themselves are also treasured, with many railway societies helping preserve and restore this part of history. The economic significance of the line was enormous, with hitherto inaccessible lands opened up for development, and easier access to towns and ports.

Settlement also changed the physical landscape, with vast areas of native forest cleared and farms established.

More nebulous is the line’s contribution to our social fabric, but nostalgic tales of rail journeys contribute much to our collective memory. The arrival of a train heralded a brief flurry of activity in stations up and down the line; platforms became stages for real-life drama, with the usual tearful goodbyes and joyous homecomings becoming more poignant during the war years. Kisses were stolen in long, dark tunnels, livestock sometimes blocked the tracks, surreptitious swigs were taken from hidden hip flasks, and innumerable pranks and games were invented to pass the time.

Railway pies and fruitcakes became part of folklore, as did the unseemly scramble to get to the much-maligned, but now much-missed railway refreshment rooms, a phenomenon that ended with the closure of Frankton and Taumarunui in 1975.

The North Island Main Trunk Line wasn’t just for long-haul passengers. Locals could jump aboard a train heading north or south, spend the day visiting or shopping at a town somewhere along the track, then catch the return train later in the day.

Schools and sports teams used the same process, promoting a sense of a wider community. Families travelled together for Sunday picnics, and the Railways Department put on regular excursion trains for special events.

Not everything ran smoothly. The climate and unstable terrain meant frequent washouts, floods and slips, resulting in delays, derailments and accidents. On 6 July 1923, the line was the scene of the first major loss of life on New Zealand railways. At around 6am, the southbound Auckland-Wellington express rounded a blind corner and ran into a landslide near Ongarue, killing 17 people and injuring 28.

Christmas Eve 1953 marked a black day in New Zealand history. Unbeknown to the driver of the northbound Wellington-Auckland night express, the walls of Mt Ruapehu’s Crater Lake had collapsed, sending a torrent of water, mud and volcanic debris down the Whangaehu River. The lahar knocked out a section of the bridge at Tangiwai, and at 10.21pm locomotive KA949 and the leading carriages plunged into the raging waters, resulting in the deaths of 151 people.

During its first 100 years, the line has been subject to political inspiration and apathy, serious energy crises, whether coal or oil; varying forms of public/private ownership, protection and deregulation, and recessions, scandals and financial woes. There have been moments of glory and times of tragedy, halcyon days of bright hope, and dark days of war and depression.

On 6 August 2008, when a gleaming steam locomotive hauls a commemorative Parliamentary Special out of Wellington, many alongside the tracks will be cheering the North Island Main Trunk Line into its second century, and hopefully into a new era of positive progress.

Heather Ramsay is a freelance writer based in Taranaki.

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