Davey Gunn 'the man, made of horseshoe nails and whipcord.’
Davey Gunn, born in 1887 in Station Peak, Waimate, was a Scottish bushman who left an indelible mark on the history of New Zealand. As young man he moved to Sutton and established himself as a farmer before buying property in the Hollyford Valley and marrying Ethel May Willetts, with whom he had three children.
Gunn grew his farm, first buying out his partner before going on to acquire four leases totaling more than 25,000 acres in the Hollyford Valley. Gunn moved to the valley and established his base at Deadman's Hut on the banks of the Hollyford River. His Hollyford run was mainly heavy bush country, and his sole income came from the annual sale of cattle at Invercargill, which entailed a cattle drive of 175 miles that took four months.
Despite being faced with deer infestation and difficult conditions, Gunn became a superb bushman, cutting tracks to give access to river flats and building a chain of huts. Stories about him are legendary one time when he was chasing steer through dense bush and tore his thigh and scrotum on a jagged branch, without flinching he stitched up the gash with a darning needle and some old fishing gut, from that on he was as 'the man-made of horseshoe nails and whipcord.’ He was also known for his frugality, and often referred to the Hollyford as "The Land of Doing Without." Although he was not a businessman by nature, he persevered through his challenging living conditions and the impact of the Great Depression.
In 1936, a Fox Moth cabin plane crashed into the sea at Big Bay, injuring the pilot and five passengers, one of whom died soon afterward. Gunn was present at the time and made a remarkable journey for help. He traveled from Martins Bay to Marian Corner in 21 hours, a journey that normally took four days. A plaque at Marian Corner commemorates the event, and Gunn was awarded King George VI's Coronation Medal in 1937.
In 1936, Gunn began guiding parties through the Hollyford and continued doing so for nearly 20 years, later employing guides to assist him. He was respected for his bushcraft, his energy, and his knowledge of the area. Friendly and hospitable by nature, and possessing considerable personal charm, Gunn became a well-known and popular figure. He communicated his own enthusiasm to a generation of trampers, and during his 25-year tenure of the Hollyford and Lake McKerrow district, he opened up the area with tracks and accommodation huts.
In 1950, Gunn was badly injured when he slipped over a bluff, and from that time, he began to age noticeably. On Christmas Day 1955, he drowned in the Hollyford River near Hidden Falls with a 12-year-old boy mounted behind him when his horse stumbled and fell. His body was never found. He was survived by his wife, Ethel, and their children.
Davey crossing the Hollyford river.
Davey Gunn was a remarkable man who left a lasting impact on New Zealand's history. His legacy as a skilled bushman and guide lives on, and his remarkable journey for help after the 1936 plane crash is a testament to his perseverance and dedication. His life story is an inspiration to anyone who values hard work, self-reliance, and a love for the great outdoors. A memorial cairn near the junction of the Pyke and Hollyford rivers bears an inscription that concludes, "All who passed this way knew him as 'Davey, the Tramper's Friend.'"
As you may know the boy who drowned with Davey Gunn Was Warren Shaw from Seacliff Otago.
I have copied below some notes on Warren.
Warren Shaw
1943 – 1955
From Clive Bennett, Past Seacliff resident
I was at Seacliff primary school with Warren, being in the same class as his younger brother ‘Preston.’
As Preston and I were good friends I saw a lot of Warren and his family, also doing my fair share of ‘hand pumping’ the water tanks at 20 ‘rings’ per session! Meanwhile Carollyn and Dorothy watched our labour and reported to higher authorities any time we were one or two rings short of the allocated task!
Whilst Warren was of a more senior standing in the ‘social’ scale of ‘age,’ I also considered him a friend.
I can recall I was pleased on the odd occasion’s when he said ‘’what are you doing after school ‘! as this indicated being involved in some bigger boy activities!
Warren was a great Rugby player and he was selected into the regional ‘Roller Mills’ team which represented our area of Otago.
At the time this to us, was like becoming an All Black!
Regarding Rugby as the only sport of the time, Preston & I were brassed off in our later years at Primary school, as we seemed to be on the lower end of the Rugby ‘coaching’ scale’ (as in time allocated by the coach!).
The bigger boys got their coaching on the lower grass field whilst we were given a brief run on the hardstand area in front of the school.
However, I hasten to add that the ‘coach’ was Davy Rhind (Head Master) a great teacher, but who in later years I suspected had minimal rugby coaching ability! (sorry Gaynor).
I was sure Preston could have gone on to have locked the Otago scrum! … but Davy had him as a wing!
Warren’s father Jim, spent a lot of time with him, on two main areas I noticed. One being, pushing and coaching Warren’s rugby and the other
(Including Preston and his sisters) as chief mechanic on their bicycles.
The rugby side also had the benefit of an empty ‘playing field’ right beside their home in the village. (Although on a slope of around say 20 degrees),
which made it extra hard to chase the ball down hill!
I still remember one occasion running around Warren with the ball in hand, which today would be like beating Lomu!
Warren’s bike although not brand new, could be compared today as a ‘big banger’ a race tuned V8 Holden! Preston and I by comparison had our small 4 cylinder run down Toyota’s.
If anyone ever had the experience of being ‘doubled’ in a race on warrens bike from the top entrance of Mt Charlotte, down a 2k hill on the gravel road to the Village, I am sure they would never forget it.
To say the least It was hair raising stuff and one hung on preferably with eyes closed!
I recall watching with interest as Warren’s father worked on the family bikes. Always very adapt on fixing, improving, and tuning any cycle problem and never short of a spare part!
As to pumping up a tyre there was no equal!
Whilst Warren was the ‘big brother’ I never saw him ’pushing his weight around’ and he always appeared very confident and although he would have never admitted it, he was ’a careing person ’.
Looking back, I think he kept pretty much to himself and never suffered fools. He had an open personality.
His father Jim was a keen pig hunter and I recall his reputation as being a very strong character! One being his ability himself as a Rugby hard man, and the other, an incident when he walked several miles out of the bush over very rough terrain, with a massive Boar approaching his own weight. This was carried over his shoulders!
Likewise, the wonderful vegetable garden tendered by Jim, beside the Cassidy house and railway line. (Always there in any spare time he had) Rows and rows of fresh vegetables and great soil!
Preston and I (under orders), often delivered a bottle of cold tea after school (prepared by Mrs Shaw). Jim would stop work when we arrived, always drinking it in almost one swallow, with sweat dripping from his brow! I think Preston and I generally got a lecture from him on the finer points of handling a spade, as we departed with the empty bottle for the greener pastures of ‘after school activity’!
Not related, but also to mention here, the occasion he dyed his full crop of white hair, ‘jet black’ … quite something in the 50’s!
I have a feeling that the hunting trip with Davie Gunn was a special occasion for Warren, although I have no reason for saying this.
The day I heard Warren had drowned ‘we’ (Donald Offwood and myself) were up at Bert Robertson’s home, (the Work Shop Supervisor’s place), and it was around noon ….
I remember the exact spot where I was standing in the lounge when Bert told us about Warren!
Only being 10 years old at the time I suppose the shock of it was difficult to handle or understand. But it must have made quite an impact on my mind!
Today, I could not recall any other ‘event’ from that time as to exactly where I was, let alone knowing the room we were in!
I guess this is like Norman’s comments after seeing Warren’s father on that fateful Christmas day! … such a ‘hard’ man,’ Standing there alone crying at the top of the Village Street.
Well, some of my memories around my time with: -
Warren William Shaw
And, I have no doubt he would have progressed with much success in his future endeavors, had fate not intervened!
Clive Bennett
May 2002
Warren Shaw
1943 – 1955
From Clive Bennett, Past Seacliff resident
I was at Seacliff primary school with Warren, being in the same class as his younger brother ‘Preston.’
As Preston and I were good friends I saw a lot of Warren and his family, also doing my fair share of ‘hand pumping’ the water tanks at 20 ‘rings’ per session! Meanwhile Carollyn and Dorothy watched our labour and reported to higher authorities any time we were one or two rings short of the allocated task!
Whilst Warren was of a more senior standing in the ‘social’ scale of ‘age,’ I also considered him a friend.
I can recall I was pleased on the odd occasion’s when he said ‘’what are you doing after school ‘! as this indicated being involved in some bigger boy activities!
Warren was a great Rugby player and he was selected into the regional ‘Roller Mills’ team which represented our area of Otago.
At the time this to us, was like becoming an All Black!
Regarding Rugby as the only sport of the time, Preston & I were brassed off in our later years at Primary school, as we seemed to be on the lower end of the Rugby ‘coaching’ scale’ (as in time allocated by the coach!).
The bigger boys got their coaching on the lower grass field whilst we were given a brief run on the hardstand area in front of the school.
However, I hasten to add that the ‘coach’ was Davy Rhind (Head Master) a great teacher, but who in later years I suspected had minimal rugby coaching ability! (sorry Gaynor).
I was sure Preston could have gone on to have locked the Otago scrum! … but Davy had him as a wing!
Warren’s father Jim, spent a lot of time with him, on two main areas I noticed. One being, pushing and coaching Warren’s rugby and the other
(Including Preston and his sisters) as chief mechanic on their bicycles.
The rugby side also had the benefit of an empty ‘playing field’ right beside their home in the village. (Although on a slope of around say 20 degrees),
which made it extra hard to chase the ball down hill!
I still remember one occasion running around Warren with the ball in hand, which today would be like beating Lomu!
Warren’s bike although not brand new, could be compared today as a ‘big banger’ a race tuned V8 Holden! Preston and I by comparison had our small 4 cylinder run down Toyota’s.
If anyone ever had the experience of being ‘doubled’ in a race on warrens bike from the top entrance of Mt Charlotte, down a 2k hill on the gravel road to the Village, I am sure they would never forget it.
To say the least It was hair raising stuff and one hung on preferably with eyes closed!
I recall watching with interest as Warren’s father worked on the family bikes. Always very adapt on fixing, improving, and tuning any cycle problem and never short of a spare part!
As to pumping up a tyre there was no equal!
Whilst Warren was the ‘big brother’ I never saw him ’pushing his weight around’ and he always appeared very confident and although he would have never admitted it, he was ’a careing person ’.
Looking back, I think he kept pretty much to himself and never suffered fools. He had an open personality.
His father Jim was a keen pig hunter and I recall his reputation as being a very strong character! One being his ability himself as a Rugby hard man, and the other, an incident when he walked several miles out of the bush over very rough terrain, with a massive Boar approaching his own weight. This was carried over his shoulders!
Likewise, the wonderful vegetable garden tendered by Jim, beside the Cassidy house and railway line. (Always there in any spare time he had) Rows and rows of fresh vegetables and great soil!
Preston and I (under orders), often delivered a bottle of cold tea after school (prepared by Mrs Shaw). Jim would stop work when we arrived, always drinking it in almost one swallow, with sweat dripping from his brow! I think Preston and I generally got a lecture from him on the finer points of handling a spade, as we departed with the empty bottle for the greener pastures of ‘after school activity’!
Not related, but also to mention here, the occasion he dyed his full crop of white hair, ‘jet black’ … quite something in the 50’s!
I have a feeling that the hunting trip with Davie Gunn was a special occasion for Warren, although I have no reason for saying this.
The day I heard Warren had drowned ‘we’ (Donald Offwood and myself) were up at Bert Robertson’s home, (the Work Shop Supervisor’s place), and it was around noon ….
I remember the exact spot where I was standing in the lounge when Bert told us about Warren!
Only being 10 years old at the time I suppose the shock of it was difficult to handle or understand. But it must have made quite an impact on my mind!
Today, I could not recall any other ‘event’ from that time as to exactly where I was, let alone knowing the room we were in!
I guess this is like Norman’s comments after seeing Warren’s father on that fateful Christmas day! … such a ‘hard’ man,’ Standing there alone crying at the top of the Village Street.
Well, some of my memories around my time with: -
Warren William Shaw
And, I have no doubt he would have progressed with much success in his future endeavors, had fate not intervened!
Clive Bennett
May 2002
Absolutely fabulous, have been to his memorial in the Hollyford Valley and completed the Hollyford track. I have seen his “farmland” – what an amazing man!
What a remarkable man! These types of characters are few and far between, toughened by hardship and perseverance they prove themselves to be true pioneers of their time by hard work and determination. I remember him well from travelling the South Island, his story resonates with me because he inspires generations that follow. Thanks for sharing his story.