Continuing on the same subject as the preceding posts, ie some background to the photographs that my father took around the port here in New Plymouth in the 1930’s, here are four more. I particularly like the subject matter here. In fact a couple of these look like
photos that I have taken in the past. Or would like to take in the future.

The white building is the Breakwater, the hotel that my parent’s ran.

There is a power station built on most distant part of this site now. A gas burning one.
In Taranaki we have oil and gas. Right by the hotel was the first oil field in New Zealand, at Moturoa. Electricity, oil and gas, see, you’d better be nice to us.

More Birds

In the previous posting I wrote about my parents running the Breakwater Hotel in New Plymouth and I talked about how much my father loved birds.

A couple of weeks ago I went to a bird show here and took some snaps so I’m on a bit of a theme here or to put it more accurately for me, a seam. Kim Hill questioned me a bit about my process.
I postulated that in my experience, making new photos seemed to require periods of removing considerable overburden but then new images arrive suddenly, easily and quite quickly. It’s not always like this of course but often. I hit a seam two years ago, when I went to Invercargill on a residency for 4 months. I’m feeling close to a seam now so I’m a little excited. I probably look like an old miner who thinks he can smell gold.

Anyway, back to Dad. Here are a couple of photos of him, the lower one definitely taken in the Breakwater Hotel, or as it used to be colloqially known, The Breakie. Incidentally it closed down a couple of years ago. Now it is empty.

The young girl is my sister Natalie. I don’t know the parrot’s name, when I arrived or “came along” it was not with our family anymore. I wished I’d asked my parents about it. Too late now.

PS Remember that a click will enlarge these photos. I recommend trying on the photo below. Then to the right of the hotel you will see a little tram emerge. Trams serviced New Plymouth at that time. One ran all the way to the port.