Thread: Note for all Kiwis in aussie

Lighten up everyone or you might spend time in the naughty corner.

Originally Posted by bob10

I think it is time we stopped this childish tit for tat , and agreed to disagree. I would rather talk to members here with humour , than not. I don't know how to shake hands on the internet , but cousin, you are ok by me. And, I love your country. Bob

Yep, OK Bob. So long as the humour (from anyone on this forum) is on-topic and actually funny, no worries, I enjoy a damn good laugh. However, it may be worth pointing out, I have said nothing on this forum I would not be prepared to say in person. Which incidentally, at time, in person, has not been without black eyes all around on occasion. But we still got up and had a quiet beer together afterwards. <- Important recovery method .


Certainly agree to a virtual handshake Bob, no problems at all with the concept and an actual brew or two (and smoked trout too if I am catching) if you are ever over this way. I did invite you to visit the NZ rugby museum here in the Manawatu some time ago. Offer still stands.

Not for the squeamish or sensitive: Sort of returning back to topic the topic of possums and to perhaps put some perspective on our possum problem here in NZ, and how we can make a living from it.

There are still two key buyers of possum products in the North Island (not sure about the South Island). I say products because these days you can sell both skins with fur intact; or just fur, pulled out of the dead animal. Fur pulled from a fresh kill is worth NZD105 per kilo but has been as high as NZD125. I have not sold ‘just’ fur but I am told 15-20 dead possums for a kilo of fur. Skins can get a premium price these days if there are euro buyers but at the moment no-one is buying in Europe so no-one is buying here. The money game still changes very quickly in the game now as it did back when I did it. The skin and fur from our pest is still used in euro clothing and when it is bought it displaces farm-raised furs from there. If there are buyers from china, this too raises some good prices I am told, however, when I was skinning ‘jacko’s’ (colloquial term easier to say than possums or Trichosurus vulpecula) the only money was from the Scandinavian fur buying auction floor. Our buyers sold into this market and we (trappers) were price takers.

Over the duration I was actively hunting jacko’s I would be getting anywhere from NZD9-15 per skin, dried and cleaned. A base camp would be set up in the bush several hours walk from the road-end and from this I would trap out over around 300-500 hectares. I was running victor No-1 or No-1.5 double coil spring smooth round-jaw traps, not the now illegal gin traps, as victors were lighter and quicker to the leg and being double coil and round jaw with a centralised chain link, did not break legs. I also used a lot of cyanide to kill out areas quickly after pre-feeding and luring.

A good trap line would comprise around 100-150 traps and would take a good solid eight hours to clear, reset, skin the previous days kill and leave. A possum caught in a trap was stunned (estwing hammer handle), let out of the trap and killed by knife to bleed out. If it was deemed good for the skin it was hung by a hind leg somewhere in the vicinity of the trap to set the fur overnight. Possums hanging like this ‘set’ and were easy to skin.On a good day, with 100-150 traps, you might get a 50-75% catch rate.Of these you might skin anywhere from 20-50 jacko. Each wet skin was around a pound in weight so as the day went on you ended up carrying a large pack. Once back at camp, the fire was rekindled, food was prepared and placed over the fire to simmer and you then started cleaning the fat off the skins and pinning them to dry. This could take several more hours depending on the condition of the skin, fat was scrapped off and flicked into the fire – purple flames – or at the dog – happy chap!

The way it usually worked was when moving into an area, the hungry and desperate possums were the usual first caught as their suspicion of the trap was easiest to overcome with the new smell of the trap and the lure. After a few days or up to a week, the money skins would begin as suspicion levels amongst the population decreased and the scent of the lure took hold of the bush. Apple oil worked well for my lines. A trap line would remain so long as this flow of money kept up with or was better than the overheads. A percentage of around 30% was a line often taken as time to move on. No money flow, move the traps. This took a few days or up to a week of hard slog through bush not often travelled, if at all. Often track cutting was required if the deer tracks went elsewhere and not to the intended trap line ridge.

I previously said, on a good day. On a bad day, after bad weather, the capture rate was poor. You still had to walk the trap line, luring and clearing. Poor weather meant the jacko stayed home and didn’t come out to play. The money would flow again after bad weather when hungry jacko came out to eat. After about three to four weeks of trapping and cleaning and drying skins, you began to ready to either fly out or walk out. If walking out, skins were compressed into bundles and tried to a frame pack fort the long walk out. Flying out was by arrangement.

Once out and back at the land rover, it was time to clean up. A few weeks of hunting jacko from a bush camp left a lingering presence. Skin buying day was a biggie for all concerned. Blokes and blokettes from all around would have come out of the bush with their work. Notes compared, bull**** shared, laughter had. After the selling, the behavior started. Food cooked by others was eaten in large quantities and washed down by various brews. Sometimes this carried on until broke. For others it was a case of stocking up and heading back out again. Another trapline to run, another payday to look forward to.

Each winter, an area was trapped out. Subsequent winters would see another area trapped. Eventually I would return to an area previously trapped to run more traps. Some things would be very noticeable. Jacko was often fewer, but always fatter with bigger thicker glossier fur (ka ching! $). Less jackos meant more food and better habitat. The other beautiful thing; the forest was noisier, wonderfully noisier. More birds had survived and more bird song was heard. The birds had returned.

Jackos are a pest in NZ to be swerved at on the road, trapped under the fruit trees and shot from the roof. Deliberate actions, ingrained into some kiwis psyche over a generation. Here, a dead jacko is a good jacko.

Group hug?

Originally Posted by bob10

Ok, explain what was not funny about it. Or is it you do not have a sense of humour. Remind me, Bob

Bob, and others. Not digging at anyone here, just answering your question above about unfunny. Just as a way of perhaps clarifying this and explaining the unfunny. When someone cracks an original joke people laugh. Automatically. Often out loud, in recognition of humour. Jokes happen at parties, pubs pretty much everywhere. There is funny **** pretty much everywhere if you look and like originality. The way I see it, the amount of humour is proportional to originality. I think you will find this most everywhere. If you go to the same comedians show telling the same jokes in the same manner night after night... well, funniness wanes rather quickly and instead is replaced by pity, derision, and other reactions. The same thing happens in internet forum threads. Same joke different thread.

Original joke x 1 = laughter to proportion of funny.

same joke x 2 = less laughter.

same joke x 3 = even less laughter.

same joke x 4 = far less laughter + pity for the person telling.

same joke x 5 = feelings less charitable.

same joke, person after person = a derisory response worthy of the stupidity of the repetition.

This goes for anything repeated time and again. Sheep jokes and Aussies telling them follow this pattern. Same joke different day different aussie time after time. :yawn: It is treated with all due derision by me, online and in person. It is an oft heard repeated unfunny and when heard or read represents a clear and present target to me and others. Sometimes it can be unfair as a person repeating often does not have wit to present any worthy comeback. Sometimes it appears the witless repetition was an anomaly and the person can actually think funny.

When someone and someone else engages in funny and original, that is banter... and is a wholesome level of fun.

Originally Posted by JamesB71

Group hug?

Better wait for the others to arrive and agree otherwise it is going to look odd

Originally Posted by windsock

Not for the squeamish or sensitive: Sort of returning back to topic the topic of possums and to perhaps put some perspective on our possum problem here in NZ, and how we can make a living from it.

There are still two key buyers of possum products in the North Island (not sure about the South Island). I say products because these days you can sell both skins with fur intact; or just fur, pulled out of the dead animal. Fur pulled from a fresh kill is worth NZD105 per kilo but has been as high as NZD125. I have not sold ‘just’ fur but I am told 15-20 dead possums for a kilo of fur. Skins can get a premium price these days if there are euro buyers but at the moment no-one is buying in Europe so no-one is buying here. The money game still changes very quickly in the game now as it did back when I did it. The skin and fur from our pest is still used in euro clothing and when it is bought it displaces farm-raised furs from there. If there are buyers from china, this too raises some good prices I am told, however, when I was skinning ‘jacko’s’ (colloquial term easier to say than possums or Trichosurus vulpecula) the only money was from the Scandinavian fur buying auction floor. Our buyers sold into this market and we (trappers) were price takers.

Over the duration I was actively hunting jacko’s I would be getting anywhere from NZD9-15 per skin, dried and cleaned. A base camp would be set up in the bush several hours walk from the road-end and from this I would trap out over around 300-500 hectares. I was running victor No-1 or No-1.5 double coil spring smooth round-jaw traps, not the now illegal gin traps, as victors were lighter and quicker to the leg and being double coil and round jaw with a centralised chain link, did not break legs. I also used a lot of cyanide to kill out areas quickly after pre-feeding and luring.

A good trap line would comprise around 100-150 traps and would take a good solid eight hours to clear, reset, skin the previous days kill and leave. A possum caught in a trap was stunned (estwing hammer handle), let out of the trap and killed by knife to bleed out. If it was deemed good for the skin it was hung by a hind leg somewhere in the vicinity of the trap to set the fur overnight. Possums hanging like this ‘set’ and were easy to skin.On a good day, with 100-150 traps, you might get a 50-75% catch rate.Of these you might skin anywhere from 20-50 jacko. Each wet skin was around a pound in weight so as the day went on you ended up carrying a large pack. Once back at camp, the fire was rekindled, food was prepared and placed over the fire to simmer and you then started cleaning the fat off the skins and pinning them to dry. This could take several more hours depending on the condition of the skin, fat was scrapped off and flicked into the fire – purple flames – or at the dog – happy chap!

The way it usually worked was when moving into an area, the hungry and desperate possums were the usual first caught as their suspicion of the trap was easiest to overcome with the new smell of the trap and the lure. After a few days or up to a week, the money skins would begin as suspicion levels amongst the population decreased and the scent of the lure took hold of the bush. Apple oil worked well for my lines. A trap line would remain so long as this flow of money kept up with or was better than the overheads. A percentage of around 30% was a line often taken as time to move on. No money flow, move the traps. This took a few days or up to a week of hard slog through bush not often travelled, if at all. Often track cutting was required if the deer tracks went elsewhere and not to the intended trap line ridge.

I previously said, on a good day. On a bad day, after bad weather, the capture rate was poor. You still had to walk the trap line, luring and clearing. Poor weather meant the jacko stayed home and didn’t come out to play. The money would flow again after bad weather when hungry jacko came out to eat. After about three to four weeks of trapping and cleaning and drying skins, you began to ready to either fly out or walk out. If walking out, skins were compressed into bundles and tried to a frame pack fort the long walk out. Flying out was by arrangement.

Once out and back at the land rover, it was time to clean up. A few weeks of hunting jacko from a bush camp left a lingering presence. Skin buying day was a biggie for all concerned. Blokes and blokettes from all around would have come out of the bush with their work. Notes compared, bull**** shared, laughter had. After the selling, the behavior started. Food cooked by others was eaten in large quantities and washed down by various brews. Sometimes this carried on until broke. For others it was a case of stocking up and heading back out again. Another trapline to run, another payday to look forward to.

Each winter, an area was trapped out. Subsequent winters would see another area trapped. Eventually I would return to an area previously trapped to run more traps. Some things would be very noticeable. Jacko was often fewer, but always fatter with bigger thicker glossier fur (ka ching! $). Less jackos meant more food and better habitat. The other beautiful thing; the forest was noisier, wonderfully noisier. More birds had survived and more bird song was heard. The birds had returned.

Jackos are a pest in NZ to be swerved at on the road, trapped under the fruit trees and shot from the roof. Deliberate actions, ingrained into some kiwis psyche over a generation. Here, a dead jacko is a good jacko.

I used to hate winter trapping with my uncle on school holidays,if i wasn't moving fast enough i would get a swift kick up the ass!!!!

If we went alright he would let me have a bit of a spend down at the dairy.But the things he taught my about the forest it's animals,bird life,how to read the signs, what i could eat, the forest had a much more special place for me as i got older.

Windsock,
Can you trap anywhere, or are you allocated an area.

Incidentally, given our penchant for killing natives esp roo & emu, and previously crocs, I wonder why possums are off the menu, we seem to have enough?