First Footing

First Footing

The early settlers in the provinces of Otago and Southland were mainly from Scotland, which is why little snippets of Scottish heritage are still around if you know where to look. There’s even a small hint of it in the local accent that’s unique to the area. Slowly the heritage is being eroded, at least in rural areas these days, first footing has become a thing of the past because of the drink driving laws. Sure the laws have always been there but over the past thirty-odd years the penny has dropped and the sensible won’t drive even after one drink! There are breathalysers behind every second bush too!

New Zealand is the first country in the world to see the New Year and Bert was a first footer! When he had a mind, his Irish ancestry was there on his sleeve, but he was Scottish through and through and he blamed the Sassenach king, James I for splitting his family and altering the course of Scottish and Irish history! So, as tradition dictated, he would tour the district, usually alone, in his old Mark I Consul, attracted like a moth to the lights of houses, to be the first across their doorstep for the New Year. He would take a lump of coal and his bottle of whisky in the hope his call would bring the household good luck for the whole year!

One year I went with Bert. I was never very interested in first footing and had been out with a light looking for a wild pig, so my light was still on. Like a moth he was attracted. He was at that chatty stage of drunkenness, so I had a sociable dram of his whiskey and accepted his piece of coal. In return I offered him a pork chop, but that would sober him! He still hadn’t been to a few places yet and wanted to get on his way but I had noticed a couple of warning signs and suggested I accompany him. He went quiet and stared at me, I stared back and after a time he smiled and told me that I could drive.

Three stops were cordial and uneventful. It was after four in the morning, but Bert wanted to call on Lofty, ‘just to annoy him’! Lofty was a forest technician who had been sent up from District Office to help us over the Christmas – New Year break in case of fire. More like they wanted him out of their hair, but anyway... Lofty was aptly named. He was six foot, twenty four tall! He was big all over and overly proud when it came to his endowment! He wouldn’t ever turn his back when he wanted to pee, oh no, he proudly flashed the thing to all and sundry to admire!

There was no light on at Lofty’s house and I looked a Bert. It really wasn’t manners to pull people out of bed; mind you, a couple of years later it became the norm among a few ratbags in the district! However, Bert wasn’t concerned about the dark and said we will just pull the ‘big pizzled bastard’ out of bed. Ding, ding, a little warning bell rang in my head; Bert had taken umbrage at being flashed at! The light came on after a few raps on the door and on a couple of windows. Lofty wasn’t a local, so had seen nothing of first footing and wondered what it was that a couple of grinning fools wanted at that hour.

Bert was happily slurring, so I had to translate for Lofty’s benefit. He wasn’t too happy about our welcoming the New Year in at his place, but he accepted Bert’s dram. I hadn’t been drinking other than that first one. I usually found a way to return it to the bottle or tipped it into a pot-plant. Good to control the green aphids! Lofty didn’t want a second, but he ended up sipping it down, a result of Bert’s pestering.  It became obvious he wanted us to leave! I took the hint, but not Bert, he still had his axe to grind! He was sitting there talking about old times with a Cheshire cat grin on his face, being annoying. He was testing Lofty.

Lofty stood up, ducking to dodge the lightbulb, he lifted Bert by the collar, turned him around and held him by his belt loops! That’s the thing about sizable people. They think small people are intimidated by them, so they take liberties. And he was taking a liberty with Bert! Whenever Bert had had a few in, he would want to ‘pop on’ any takers for a lazy stick challenge. A test of strength from the Highland games between two men sitting down foot to foot on the ground. They pulled on the stick and the winner pulled the other’s bum off the ground. I’ve never seen Bert lose at it!

I saw it coming! I knew Bert didn’t like to be man-handled! In a quick wiggling motion he was free and in the blink of an eye, he swung his fist up and whacked it into Lofty’s glass jaw! It must have been glass because he just stood motionless for a second or two and slowly tipped backwards like a felled pine tree! I positioned myself to catch him, thinking he might knock his head on something hard. I didn’t have a hope! He was way too heavy, so he took me with him, smashing a wooden chair on the way down! It took me a bit of scrambling to free myself!

Lofty was ok but hadn’t learned from the experience because another time he tried it again! My back was crook for the best part of a week! I turned the car heater on full on the way back to Bert’s and by the time we reached there he was slumped in the seat, breathing deeply. He would have slept in his car anyway because he didn’t like Edna seeing him drunk. I walked home and arrived there around sunrise.

We never mentioned what had happened that night, but I noticed that Bert could hardly use his hand for a couple of weeks or so!

And that’s first footing a la Bert! Happy New Year!