Little River Railway Station Trust

09/01/2025

Behind the old railway station in Little River, backed up to the locomotive, is our passenger car, and again, if you came into this world more than sixty years ago, you’ll remember these. They were the backbone of passenger rail transport throughout the country for decades. Designed by New Zealand Railways, the frame on ours was built in 1916 at the Newmarket (Auckland) workshop, and the body was added in 1924, then re-built in 1969. It served its active life in the South Island, and until its arrival in Little River, it had been working on the Taieri Line. The original cladding was kauri, and the ornate interior fittings were the workmanship of a bygone era. We’d particularly like to get this carriage back to its original condition and, as always, welcome people with skills to assist. The image is of Aa1030, restored by Steam Incorporated.

05/01/2025

Most people will have noticed the array of rolling stock at the rear of the railway station/craft station and perhaps wondered what it is. The wagons, carriage and locomotive have been acquired by the Little River Railway Station Trust, with the long-term goal of restoring them. Now that we have a workshop, that goal has moved that much closer.
At the head is a DSA Class shunting locomotive, manufactured in England by the Hunslet Engine Company. Fifteen Hunslet shunters were imported by New Zealand Railways, and all found homes in the South Island. If you’re of a technical mind, the locos were originally fitted with a National M4AA6 diesel engine, developing 250 horsepower, but all were eventually upgraded to Caterpillar D343T engines, turning out a more respectable 315 horsepower.
At 30.5 tons, the Hunslet is no lightweight, and as ours came from Dunedin, you may wonder how we got it here. The loco was brought up on a transporter fitted with rails, and it was then craned into its present location, on the tracks. Unfortunately, it has suffered some vandalism since its arrival.

31/12/2024

Nevertheless, timber was getting out. The Waimakariri bridge was built, and in 1869, after delays caused by a lack of capital, construction work on the Rakaia road/rail bridge began. At 1,370 metres long and 5.26 metres wide, it simply soaked up timber being milled in Little River. The design was a disaster, and once bunds at both ends washed out, the bridge would be lengthened to 1836 metres (see image). Totara and matai were also finding their way into Christchurch, with all of it still being floated and hauled to its destination.
As the 1860’s progressed, a number of things began to conspire against the future of the wooden tramway. Firstly, money. Grosvenor Miles, a prosperous merchant and partner of White had been bled dry, or at least as dry as he intended to allow himself to be bled. Secondly, Christchurch residents were increasingly unhappy with the above-ground rails, which, as you might imagine, created a significant hazard, particularly where they ran down Lincoln Road. And thirdly, the real railway with real trains was now a real possibility.
In 1873 residents were given permission to remove sections of wooden rails adjacent to their properties, and promptly set about doing so. And as these sections of the line disappeared, the prospect of a wooden tramway to Little River withered on the vine, and finally evaporated.
Timber and produce would continue to be barged, hauled, horsed or walked into and out of the district, and the good folk of Wairewa would have to wait another thirteen years before the real railway, with real steel tracks, arrived in town.

31/12/2024

Meanwhile, after encountering similar difficulties with disgruntled locals, Coop finally had his mill up and running, and now he, too, was busy building a tramway. Coop’s preferred site for the mill had been adjacent to the present day marae, mostly because that’s where the standing timber ended. His Māori neighbours took exception to this intrusion, and mounted a campaign of semi-passive resistance. By day, Coop and company would set up cables and ropes, and by night the neighbours would cut them. Eventually the neighbours won. Coop abandoned his plans, and moved his mill into town (see image), siting it roughly where the shop and gallery are now situated. There he began churning out sleepers and rails for the new wooden tracks. And so, the first section of the Little River end of the tramway stretched from the mill to a landing point below where the Catholic Church now stands (or now partially stands, since its damage during the 20102011 earthquake sequence). From there timber was rafted across the lake to a wharf at the Birdlings Flat end, where it was transferred to a second tramway and carried to Te Waihora (Ellesmere). Finally, it was punted, rafted or paddle steamer-ed across to a timber yard on the western shore. Several paddle steamers plied Ellesmere at this time, the most notable being the Pukaki and the Swamp Hen.
While this might sound inefficient and difficult, it was made even more difficult by fluctuating water levels in the lakes. The Rhodes family had grazing rights to the shores of Te Roto O Wairewa/Forsyth and were insistent on letting the water out during spring, to create more grazing. Coop was equally insistent that the water remain in the lake, so that he could more easily float his timber. As you might imagine, the Rhodes side generally won, because once the water is out of the lake, it’s no easy matter to put it back in again. And when Te Waihora was particularly low, wagon teams had to be employed to cart the timber the twelve-mile length of Kaitorete Spit, meaning a large part of the cost of Wairewa timber, once it arrived at its destination, was freight.

30/12/2024

The gauge of the new track would be four feet, and the rails would be five inches by two and a half inches in cross section, all laid on matai (black pine as they preferred to call it then) sleepers, with the eventual motive power to be provided by horses. The cost per mile was calculated at £1,023 ($125,000 in today’s money), and around forty miles would be needed, meaning an all-up budget of £40,920 (about five million). And this estimate failed to include bridges or culverts, which would have had White rubbing his hands in anticipation. Money appeared to be no obstacle when it came to the burghers of Christchurch getting their hands on Wairewa’s one significant natural resource.
And so, a deed was drawn up in October of 1864, seeding capital was advanced, and work began on what would be the first (sort of) railway to Little River. By September of 1866 the Halswell quarry section had arrived at the outskirts of Christchurch, where the fine, blue-grey stone was now being used to extend the increasingly magnificent gothic structure of the “Lunatic Asylum”, as the numbers of mentally ill Cantabrians appeared to be proliferating at an alarming rate. However, White was finding himself cash-strapped. Creditors were becoming restless, and there were mutterings about insolvency. But White, ever the bridge-builder, decided he would cross that bridge when he came to it. Creditors were pacified with promises, a bit more capital was found, and White struggled on. The wooden track headed off down Lincoln Road, disfiguring and disrupting its relatively flat surface. Outraged residents now began to raise track-cutting parties at night.

27/12/2024

So, a few days ago we left Little River still without its wooden railway. But, cometh the hour, cometh the man. No problem said Samuel Bealey, well-heeled pastoralist and third superintendent of the province. Bealey, along with his mates, William Guise Brittan, William White and William Coop devised a cunning plan. While Bealey was a well-to-do farmer, the three Williams had a variety of know-how and expertise between them. Brittan had risen from humble middle-class origins in Gloucester, to become a dabbler in business in Christchurch, and eventually Commissioner of Crown Lands for Canterbury. His dabbling had also led him to become part owner of the Halswell quarry. White was a publican, and a self-taught bridge builder. His bridges stood the test of both time and nature, standing firm where those built by professionals failed. It was White who first spanned both the Waimakariri and Rakaia rivers. And Coop, of course, was the millwright and soon-to-be founding father of Cooptown. So, this quartet resolved to bridge the gap between Christchurch and Wairewa. Bealey was to be the bloke in charge of everything, White was the hands-on man when it came to construction, Brittan, the entrepreneur, was there to put money in and then take money out, and Coop had the expertise and sheer Lancashire determination to get the milling enterprise up and running, which he duly did.
The plan was to build a wooden tramway between Christchurch and the town which people had now started to refer to as Little River because – well because it had the only river on the Peninsula, and it was little, which just shows what you can do with a bit of imagination. The tramway would pop by the Halswell quarry on the way, easing Brittan’s problem of transporting his stone. In fact, the track would pretty much follow the present highway, beginning at Moorhouse Avenue, down Lincoln Road, over to the Halswell quarry, through Tai Tapu, and then to Birdlings Flat. From there it would skirt the lake, meander through the new town with the new name, and eventually reach Puaha Valley and its millions of cubic feet of kahikatea, totara and matai. What could go wrong?

27/12/2024

Seasons greetings to all, and thanks to all our supporters. Inevitably there has been some confusion about the difference between the Little River Railway Station Trust and the Community Workshop. To clarify, the Community Workshop is a separate endeavour, currently working to associate with Menzsheds New Zealand, but it works under the umbrella of the Trust. To separate the two, we’ve created a separate page for the Workshop. You can visit that, and keep up with news and events at: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61571280386648
The Little River Railway Station Trust site will continue to provide updates on what’s happening with the Trust and its assets, and snippets of historical events relating to the station and the Little River branch line. Hope you stay with us. Charitable organisations in small towns need all the help they can get.

22/12/2024

So, back to the continuing story of the wooden railway. Here, in Wairewa, by the middle of the eighteen hundreds, the little town of Little River had big plans, and as everyone knows, you can’t have big plans without having lots of stuff. People arrived in Little River with stuff, and once they got here, they were generating more stuff, and they needed to move it.
The tipping point came when William Coop arrived with his sawmill in 1863, and the requirement to move stuff suddenly became acute. Christchurch was by now bellowing for timber for bridges and houses and commercial premises in the now-drained swamp. But it was a scarce commodity, and by the middle of the nineteenth century, Christchurch was back in the Stone Age. Stone buildings were popping up everywhere, largely fuelled by the abundant supply of good quality stone from the Halswell quarry. Construction had begun on the Christchurch Provincial Council Buildings in 1858, and “Sunnyside Lunatic Asylum” opened its doors in 1863, to house the mentally ill who had previously been enjoying the hospitality of the Lyttleton Jail. While both buildings were splendid examples of Victorian Gothic architecture, the artisans of Christchurch still desperately needed timber. But when they eyed the rich resources in and around Wairewa, they were always confronted with the problem of the miles of swampy, flood-prone terrain that lay between them and their goal. Timber from the new mill had to be dragged to the lake, floated across, dragged by bullock teams across Kaitorete, then floated across Waihora. Time consuming and expensive.

22/12/2024

Many thanks to everyone who made our open day such a success, and particularly to those who signed up as members of the Community Workshop. And a reminder, too, that if you wish to communicate with us, we're on [email protected]

Send a message to learn more

21/12/2024

Just a reminder that there will be an "open day" at the Community Workshop tomorrow (Sunday) between 10 in the morning and midday. If you're interested in joining up, or just want to have a look around, come down and join us.

Send a message to learn more

20/12/2024

The need to move stuff is a human problem, and it’s linked to the need to own stuff. Perhaps one of those first proto-humans that came down out of the trees and picked up a stick and made it his or hers was the first person to own stuff. My stick! It sets it apart from all the other sticks on earth, and owning it somehow makes you special. The stick becomes special; it attains mana; you’re proud of your stick; you probably show it off to your mates, who inevitably covet it, and then they want a stick, and they probably want a bigger one than yours. But the thing is, once you’ve got a stick, the next thing you want is another stick. More and bigger becomes the catch cry. And it all needs to be moved.
Once Canterbury had been settled, and once the settlers had decided to build their flagship city in a swamp, they looked about them and realised that one important piece of the puzzle was missing, and that thing was wood. Gazing out to the north-west, they might have seen a small but significant stand of native timber around the fledging town they’d optimistically called Oxford. And then, to the south-east of the swamp was Banks Peninsula, where people complained that there were so many trees, and hence so many birds, that you couldn’t hear yourself think. The fact was, these early pākehā settlers had wood coming out their ears. They just couldn’t move it to where they wanted it.

19/12/2024

Visitors these days stop in at the Little River Railway Station and perhaps wonder why it’s there. After all, a railway station with no trains is like a pub with no beer. But why we have a station is a story that goes back a long way.
Before the Stone Age, before the Bronze Age and the Iron Age, there was the Age of Wood, and it was understanding the versatility of wood that enabled a shrewdness of apes to swing down from the trees and set off on the path to civilisation. With twigs they could poke into termite nests to extract the edible delights within. With sticks they could beat each other senseless, and later they would make spears to do an even better job of it. They learned how to burn wood to keep away the terrors of the night. And finally, from wood they could make paper to record their achievements.
Back in the 1860’s a group of Christchurch A listers also had a wooden epiphany. To become even more rich and famous, they would build a sort of railway to Little River. And like their ancestors before them, they chose to build it from wood.