Whitebait - inanga

Whitebait - inanga

My nickname is Whitebait, and one species of Whitebait found in New Zealand is called inanga. So above, at the start of this blog is an autographical portrait of me as Whitebait. It mainly concerns the last legal helicopter trip into South Westland in search of greenstone (pounamu). I'm listening to Redgum singing I Was Only Nineteen, a song about the Australian involvement in the Vietnam War, as I write the start of this blog. I suppose I am trying to put off talking about myself - that is the self part of the persona shown in its veiled nature to the world. So I'll dabble in Australian and Kiwi music until I get the courage up to write.

So it is easier if I download Whitebait's Partial Autobiography from my Documents portfolio. Here it is, just like magic:

Whitebait’s Partial Autobiography

Whitebait is my nickname in the Animal Club NZ, oddly because Whitebait is a fish – the imago stage of the NZ river smelt, a Galaxid species. There are approximately six species of whitebait – six because the others may have not yet been discovered up in those hidden New Zealand streams. Some of the whitebait as adult species are depicted in the composite illustration above – see Adult Whitebait Species somewhere near centre of the picture.

Like Topsy the painting continued to grow and describes a marvellous week in my life when I went down to Big Bay in far-off South Westland to go greenstone-helicopter hunting. That is hunting greenstone by helicopter not one made up of such. What I am about to tell you could be lifted straight out of a Barry Crump novel:

‘I met Ian Moamotauranga in the Bonsai Pizza Parlour in Greymouth. He was there for a wine and food appreciation with the Wine Society, one of Greymouth’s snobbier clubs. I was there still shaking from a marriage breakup back in Australia, and of course, was comfort-eating pizza. He invited me to go greenstone hunting at Big Bay in South Westland.

Ian held on to the last licence ever granted in New Zealand to prospect for greenstone. The Labour Government in NZ had decided that all rights to the taking of greenstone would revert to a composite group of Maori known as Ngai Tahu (Kai Tahu) in Southern Maoriori dialect - because they were good eating).

Ian had been prospecting for pounamu ever since he was a small boy and thought that he would end his greenstone-hunting in style. So at some point he went prospecting in Big Bay in style – with a Russian Mil-8 helicopter, a crew of four with an interpreter, Daryl the Turkey Strangler and Jack Honekakariki Ana, the greenstone finder.

They set up on the beach at Awarua in a yurt that overlooked a pool where they fished for the legacy of Poutini, greenbone fish. Out from the yurt you could see the full extent of aptly named Big Bay, a mass of millions of gigantic boulders – some of them were huge blocks of greenstone. The largest a Mil-8 could lift was five tonne, so the boulders exceeding that had to be cut with a diamond blade on the beach. Ian, Daryl and Jack have never revealed how much pounamu they retrieved from Big Bay but it was a lot. They even have film of the Mil-8 dropping a huge half boulder (which has since been relocated but not recovered).

When they were winding up the claim they returned in a Hughes 500, piloted by Morgie Saxton, son of the legendary bush pilot Dave Saxton. I was on that harrowing trip from the Cascade River and spent ten days with them. On this the last trip before the Ngai Tahu takeover we were to spend over a week scouring the nearby strip of beach looking for small boulders.

I found mine, the Wiremu stone (seen in the top right-hand corner of the photo) I felt great, especially when Ian announced: ‘Inanga, I think you have found a stone.’ It was a half-tonne block of pure jade, and highly prized by both Jack and Ian, who organized this expedition.’

Jack is in the picture with the Ace of Diamonds behind him, Ian has the 10 of Clubs. Together they make a Black Jack, one of my nicknames for Jack, who I went to school with. The Ace is appropriate as that was the name of Ian’s dad.

My son appeared in a bole of a gum tree, as he was forever on my mind at this stage. The Aboriginal Dreaming part linked it together, and my Dad sneaked in setting up nets to catch whitebait.

The right-Hand bottom corner is a collage from the Greymouth telephone book, and it mentions three species of whitebait – inanga, koaro and kokopu. Eels, predators of whitebait, lurk above the whitebait at centre top.

Lastly, but not least, is the set theory proof that any value of x is equal to zero, part of the zero equals infinity proof. (I was dabbling in pure maths and the mind at the time.) It has absolutely nothing to do with anything.

A = {a1, a2} a1 = a2

x = a1 – a2

A1 = {a1, a2, x}

a1 – a2 = x

=> x = 0

It is a ‘partial’ autobiography, so watch this space.


Acrylic, oil, gouache, lots of glitter, gold leaf, playing cards, cover of West Coast telephone directory, collaged photographs, cuttings from DOC pamphlet, 2006

If you read the earlier Plogs [Painting Blogs] you will see an article on Te Punakaiki. The Punakaiki and Pororari rivers are famous for their Whitebait. When I wrote for Lonely Planet Publications I included my Mum's recipe for cooking Whitebait patties. I don't eat them very often as it is tantamount to cannibalism, but the recipe may well still be included in the New Zealand travel survival kit you have.

In my last Plog Spooky Action at a Distance I talked about the Hand of God, the force behind the actions of all we mere mortals. Yesterday a friend dropped in from Patland and left a book The DaVinciMethod: Break Out and Express your Fire (Garret LoPorto, Da Vinci Publishing) for me to read. It is a quick, but informative read, and covers similar subject material to this Plog.

In particular, the author refers to many of the writings of Da Vinci. Garret LoPorto sums up the da Vincian process of surrender to the Hand of God:

Your job as an artist, inventor, entrepreneur, or leader is to transcend limits. You find the burden, the dead area of your life, and resurrect it.

Your resurrection is then shared with the world and inspires others to do the same.

Leonardo Da Vinci puts it in a similar fashion:

The depth and strength of a human character are defined by its moral reserves.

People reveal themselves completely only when they are thrown out of the customary conditions of their life, for only then do they have to fall back on their reserves.

Morgan Saxton, known to his mates as 'Morgie 600' (2 x Hughes 300s), died in late 2008 after the helicopter he was piloting crashed into Lake Wanaka. Morgie was the loveable rogue of the South Island skies, and the best helicopter pilot in those parts since Dave his Dad. He was our pilot from Cascade to Big Bay and out again that is described in this Plog. He ferried out the last blocks of legally taken greenstone from Big Bay and exhibited incredible 'bird-like' flying skills.

inanga