Little did J&K know that the washed-up carcass of a sperm whale would be one of the highlights of the literary festival we attended this past weekend.

What a privilege to witness up close and personal this giant of the seas (although as a young male, it measured a mere 49 feet which is smaller than a mature whale which, we were informed, would be more like 70 feet long).

We had walked a very long way to get to the carcass, so were somewhat surprised when people in a four-wheel drive pulled up beside it.

We’d left our four-wheel drive 45 minutes away back at the beach entrance. However, we wouldn’t have missed for anything the long walk along the beach in the magical light of early morning.

Approaching by foot did feel more respectful, even though it meant getting our feet wet when we were forced to cross a stream.

Intimations of Moby Dick and sea shanties.

People warned us it would be smelly, but as there was no wind, any stench was minimal.

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Meanwhile … back to the 2024 Dan Davin Literary Festival’s programme … where the first stop for J&K this link will take you to our official page with details of what we are about and other places we have visited was Gore library – our first visit to this town’s new library.

Introduced and welcomed. Thank you Gore library for your warm welcome and polished promotion of our event.

It felt strange to be in a building where (long ago now) just across the street, Rose, my best friend at High School would go for her violin lessons from a nun in St Mary’s. (Just another slip of time. It is my life’s running theme.)

We find the people of Gore who come to our readings are always receptive and engaged. Consequently, it’s one of our favourite places to read poetry.

One of the open mic. readers.

Ann.

Nicola.

Jenny reads.

I read.

As always, the readings are followed by questions and discussion – always the best part, I think.

Had to get a photo with the cuzzies!

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And had to get a photo with the horse we met in a secret lane in downtown Gore.

As well as this train that made us think back to when we first started out on our J&K Whistlestop tours eleven years ago.

(Thanks to Robert for photos.)

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Next stop, Waihopai Invercargill, where we joined David Eggleton and Sara Hirsch for a reading in the Invercargill Library Reading Room, with Hamesh Wyatt as a very able m.c.

Once again for me the question time at the end was a highlight, with some pertinent and wide-ranging questions being asked of us poets. Revelations and interesting descriptions of writing techniques and influences, among other topics, were aired. Everyone learned something; us poets included.

Everyone was sad that due to being unwell, star participant, Tusiata Avia, was not able to attend the festival. She was thought of and mentioned many times, with a speedy recovery wished.

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Next day, J&K set off for Aparima College where along with Imogen and her editing expertise, we worked on poems with Lyn’s on-fire students. Time flew! we all were so absorbed. Some wonderful writing is being achieved by the students in that amazing school.

A painted blue whale in Aparima, Riverton. (This was before we saw the real whale – maybe even before we knew of its existence). Just one of the many serendipity occurrences typical of a J&K venture.

When I spotted this photo in the foyer of Aparima College, I had to take a photo – despite the interference of light from the glass. It’s my mother’s old high school. She attended there in the early-1940’s.

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It was up to us three to entertain the patrons of three establishments on the pop-up, poetry crawl (accompanied by a mobile audience) that Rebecca had organised as a replacement event for Tusiata’s scheduled one.

First stop a First Friday event in the Grand Foyer of the beautifully restored Civic Theatre. I remember coming here when I was about eight years old to see Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, my very first live show. Following on from that show I saw (in no particular order) Oklahoma, Brigadoon and others I’ve forgotten the names of in the mists of time … but not the thrill.

Surprised by Poetry could well have been the theme, with the attendees at the various establishments who were largely unaware that they were about to be ‘poem-bombed’. I must say they were very kind and appeared delighted with the poetry that was delivered to them.

Jenny performing her popularly received Southern Woman poem in the elegant Invercargill Club (once Invercargill’s Gentleman’s Club) which is listed as a NZ Heritage building.

David in Down The Back Paddock mode. Another poem that was a hit with the audience.

Next stop on our poetry trek, was the *Langlands Hotel foyer where the guitar player graciously allowed us to interrupt his performance.

*Langlands is a traditional English surname stemming from Middle English. It refers to the land holdings of the original person so named, and literally means “long (or vast) lands”. An appropriate name I thought for Southland’s open-skied land.

I read my poem Talking Knitting from my latest poetry collection, Upturned.

I can’t remember what poem Jenny read here. Maybe it was the one about the eye in a glass … another popular Jenny Powell poem and one that is always given its dramatic due by this queen of professional creative drama.

David’s final flourish at the end of reciting / performing his poem about Iggy Pop. Top quality performance.

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The very last event on Saturday night was an entertaining event with an open mic. first half, followed by the featured readers. This was brilliantly mc’d by Sara Hirsch who also read two of her own poems. What a Smash Poetry doyen! Auckland’s gain, England’s loss.

And all too soon it was time to say good-bye to the magic of Invercargill, to the poetry of the south and to make the return trip home.

Thank you to Rebecca and the team at the Dan Davin Literary Foundation for a great weekend.

Invercargill welcomed me
with wide-open streets,
skies with nothing to hide,
flat roads to take me straight
out to sea. Invercargill flung around me
arms of rain,
allowed me to savour its breadth. And sun.

Opening lines of the poem, *making waves across my time from my book, Born To A Red-Headed Woman.

*lines from the song Strange Magic; Jeff Lynne; E.L.O. 1975

P.S. Catching up with Southland friends and family was an added bonus to this trip south; a shout out to friends (Aileen and Cilla) and cousins (Colleen, Marilyn, Rob and Allison) and in-laws (Jenny, Andy, Caroline and David). Thanks to all of you for your support of my writing.

And thanks to Robert for all the driving!