Making sense of my photography hobby in retirement

Aramoana Revisited

Aramoana Road Sign, Otago, New Zealand, Copyright Chris Gregory 2012

Aramoana

Ask any Kiwi (New Zealander) of a certain age about Aramoana and a veil of sadness will descend across their faces as they remember the tragic day in 1990 when a lone gunman shot dead 13 local people, then himself at this small fishing and holiday settlement.  Memory of the tragedy will forever be part of the history of this place on a lovely sandy spit at the entrance to the Otago Harbour.

Aramoana is the home of some 26o permanent residents and is 27  km from the centre of the City of Dunedin, past Port Chalmers on the northern side of the harbour.  At weekends and holiday times Dunedin people escape from the city to the quiet of the seaside where they can relax, fish, or walk on the sandy beaches, or on the 1,200 m sand control Mole opposite Taiaroa Head at the harbour entrance.  It was here that I traveled one morning for a few hours of respite when my wife was receiving treatment for a serious fracture in Dunedin Hospital before her transfer to Auckland.

This post has more than the usual number of images as I wanted to give a feeling for what Aramoana is about.  Click on the images for a larger view. This post replaces one that was accidentally deleted earlier today.

Aramoana Beach, Otago, New Zealand, Copyright Chris Gregory 2012

Aramoana Beach

Aramoana Lifestyle, Otago, New Zealand, Copyright Chris Gregory 2012

Aramoana Lifestyle

Caravan, Aramoana, Otago, New Zealand, Copyright Chris Gregory 2012

Forlorn and Almost Forgotten

High and Dry, Fishing Boat, Aramoana, Otago, New Zealand, Copyright Chris Gregory 2012

High and Dry

Aramoana Mole, Otago, New Zealand, Copyright Chris Gregory 2012

Aramoana Mole

Old Wooden Structure, Aramoana, Mole, Otago Harbour, New Zealand, Copyright Chris Gregory 2012

Old Wooden Structure, Aramoana, Mole, Otago Harbour, New Zealand

3 responses

  1. Pingback: Musseled Espresso | Chris Gregory's Alphathreads

  2. Karen Byrne

    I grew up in the 50 when we simply said “I live at the Spit” When the weekend holiday makers would treble the postulation of about 20 that resided in the area full time. The school bus would only pick up about 10 children beyond Deborah bay., and it stopped each afternoon at the 4 Square in Careys bay to pick up our bread bags. The phone only operated from 6am 12mn each day. When there was a spring tide we got the day off as the water covered the road in a couple of places. It was a fantastic life style and a majic place to grow up.

    March 8, 2014 at 7:08 pm

    • Hi Karen, Thanks for your comment. I can visualise the sort of life you must have had on “the Spit” even now. I also grew up as a child in the 50’s and remember many of the same types of experience that you describe. Regards CG

      March 9, 2014 at 10:13 pm

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