Eric Hammond first marketed the Whanganui River's Bridge to Nowhere.
The Bridge to Nowhere is one of the Whanganui River‘s main attractions.
In conversation with Laurel Stowell, Eric Hammond recalls how his jetboat business helped put it on the map.
The Bridge to Nowhere was completed in 1936 just as it became clear that the Mangapurua settlement for returned World War 1 soldiers was a failure.
Land there was too steep and remote to successfully farm.
The new bridge was to have connected the settlement with freight and transport on the Whanganui River.
Sometimes called Morgan’s Bridge, it was never officially opened and barely used and all the settler families had left the valley by 1943.
Eric Hammond, now 84, says he started using the “nowhere” name during his years as a jetboat tour operator: 1977-90.
It was first put in print on December 9, 1978, in an advert for his business.
And it did reel in business - people kept ringing him to ask about the mysterious bridge.
The “Bridge to Nowhere” name became famous. It featured in a book by Arthur Bates, a 1986 film by Larry Parr and was given to a tourist lodge.
Hammond became a Whanganui River tour guide by a circuitous route.
He likes new ventures and had previously played in Stratford’s The Merrymakers Dance Band, and finished a carpentry apprenticeship.
He went on to manage farms and acquire one of his own, 52 flat hectares in Fordell.
He fell in love with jetboats in 1963 while on holiday with mates in Queenstown.
After that he married, did some farming and bought a wooden boat hull from Coleman Marine in Whanganui. He used his jetboat for waterskiing.
He knew adventurer and jetboat racer David Russell, and met engineer Barry Sproule in Whanganui’s Riverside Tavern.
The two talked jetboats. Sproule built one for himself and one for Hammond, using a fibreglass hull bought in Christchurch.
They went into business together in 1976, based at Pipiriki’s wharf. Hammond moved a caravan up there to live in.
Their cargo was mostly sheep and hoggets, 18 at a time, wool, and the odd vehicle.
They serviced people farming upriver at Ramanui, Tangahoe and Parinui.
But with two eight-man jetboats they wanted to carry passengers. In December 1977, they started their tour business, one of just a few on the river.
Pipiriki’s Colonial House had just opened to tourists.
They got a contract with a business called Venture Treks, carrying trampers from the Mangapurua Landing to Whakahoro every four days.
Hammond bought the blue and white piecart that operated in the Palmerston North square.
He moved it to Pipiriki and employed a man there to take bookings and cook for visitors.
After that first summer the two carried freight again in winter.
Sproule had money troubles and left, but Hammond carried on. Around that time a jetboat tour business operating from Whanganui closed, and Hammond was asked to step in.
He moved his base from Pipiriki to Pungarehu Marae, just 20km from Whanganui.
People at Pungarehu were supportive when they learned he had a family connection with Parikino.
He put up a shed and a pontoon on the riverbank.
Most days he collected passengers for a river trip at the former Benefields Orchard, drove them to Pungarehu in a Land Rover and took off up the river at 9am.
By 11am they’d be at the Mangapurua confluence and head for the bridge, walk there, eat their lunch and walk back.
They were back in Pipiriki about 2pm, then at Koriniti Marae for a tour at 4, and back at Pungarehu around 5.30pm.
The unused bridge had become covered with earth, and a spade was kept there to clear it.
Along the river, Hammond used a loudspeaker to tell his passengers tales of the river. He has a lot of feelings for it.
“The river has got a life in it. It’s got a history,” he said.
“It’s beautiful but it can be very nasty. It’s got its moods. If it wants to take somebody, it will.”
He’s had some near misses and left a lot of jetboat paint on its rocks.
But after towing many, he’s proud to say he’s never had to be towed home.
Once, he was heading for the Ngaporo Rapid upstream from Pipiriki.
He was carrying freight and a sheep got under the boat’s dashboard, fouling his steering. He just managed to avoid a full-on collision.
Another time, he was showing a group around at Koriniti Marae when a tour boat roared by.
The wake pulled his boat’s mooring pin out of the sand and his boat drifted away.
He had to get it back and he couldn’t swim.
A nearby whirlpool spun the boat around and brought it just near enough for him to grab. He was wet through but unhurt. His passengers never knew what had happened.
There were good and lean years in the business, Hammond said. He never made much money, and winters were always slow.
When he wanted to try another line of work, he trained six people to take his place as skipper.
He sold his boat to Pungarehu’s Kaitangata Trust, which carried on the business.