By Sorrel Hoskin

No regrets

John Till shakes his head in wonder "I'll be 90 next month for goodness sake. The whole thing about old age is just that you can't be looking back and saying 'Why didn't I do this? Why didn't I do that?' As far as I'm concerned I've done so many things I'm not doing that!"

The Stratford man has lived a life packed full of action and adventure - both in the courtroom and outside. The 'Till' part of local legal firm Till, Henderson King, John has been in the profession for more than 60 years.

John hails from a farming family in South Featherston. His father died in 1926 and his mother moved into Featherson. John boarded at Wellington College for three years from 1930. "I had to grow up in a hurry." After various jobs to pay his way through university the young man settled into a job in the Native Land Court. He got his law degree in 1940.

War intervenes

But war arrived and put paid to his plans of entering the legal profession. "I was in the first ballot called up for the army. I had three months in Waiouru that cured me of army life! I came back to Wellington and then signed up for air training."

John and three airforce buddies gained their wings in Canada. "I made the mistake of flying so well in my final test that I was given a job as an instructor and didn't get to go to battle."

While in Canada he took on a dare to fly a small plane between two grain silos and sheared off part of one wing, just making it back to the airport. He instructed students for two years in Canada before he was at last posted to England from where he would be sent to battle. "But the CO at Woodburn here in New Zealand said they wanted me back. So I finished up the war down in Woodburn!"

John had made some good contacts while in Canada and had the opportunity to fly for Air Canada after the war. "I had the choice of being a lawyer, going to Canada or holding a permanent commission in the airforce." The keen pilot was leaning toward the overseas job when he got ill with pneumonia. "It was the first time I slowed down and stopped thinking of flying and that's when I made my decision to stay and become a lawyer."

A rural town lawyer

The young man took on a job with N.H Moss in Stratford and there had his early training in law. The rural town provided him with a great variety of work. "We had everything from murder through to commercial transactions."

At the time the biggest thing happening in Taranaki was the merging of the many dairy companies that dotted the countryside. "We were one of the first in the legal game to deal with these people, getting them moving into the amalgamation which eventually became Kiwi, and now Fonterra."

John was known for being tough in the courtroom. "I always enjoyed the battle. I had a reputation and frightened off some of the lazier ones!" Outside the hallowed halls he sometimes used unconventional techniques to get information about complainants.

One case, where he was to defend a local policeman facing a rape charge, saw him head to the local bar. "I was due to defend the charge on the Monday but I was in the Court of Appeal in the proceeding week and finished late on the evening of the Friday night. I hadn't even had a chance to talk to my client."

So the lawyer dressed up in his old hunting gear and headed to the local pub. "I learnt all about this girl from the guys at the pub - she was quite a performer." On the Monday John went into court and presented the girl with the information he had learnt at the pub. "She broke down and her case was lost."

Gaining the trust of the jury is absolutely essential when presenting a case, says John. "You select someone that you appeal to and concentrate on talking to that person, selling to that person. Speak slowly to get your point across. You can just feel it in the court if you have the jury with you. You mustn't be too uppish."

Over the years the firm grew, changing names and premises several times. "To cut a long story short Till, Henderson King now has offices in Hamilton, Stratford, Hawera and New Plymouth."

Going bush

When John wanted to get away from it all, he either went bush or underwater. The outdoorsman has many tales to tell of his time below the waves or hunting deer on rugged ridge tops. "I'm addicted to the outdoors," he laughs.

John and his son Max have chased pigs and deer all over New Zealand. On one such occassion the pair were in Fiordland for a national competition. After days of searchinf they finally came across a red deer with a big head. But there was a lack of cover and the hunters could only get within 450m of the beast, who disappeared with his herd behind a rock.

"It was very cold that day. While waiting for him to appear I began to shiver which would effect my shooting," recalls John. "Max was jumping up and down to keep warm."

Finally after an hour-and-a-half the stag came into sight. John shot him and Max took off running. "But he ran straight past and disappeared! What had happened was another big stag had come up to take over the herd, and Max had shot him!"

In 2006 John recieved an invitation to join the national deer hunting association at a meeting in New Plymouth, and to take a deer head along with him. "I asked them why they wanted the deer head and they answered that

it had not been beaten by anyone they knew of within Taranaki in 40 years! That was an invitation I really appreciated."

Below the waves

John has had some exciting times below the waves too. His first few tentative scuba dives were off the Bell Block beach back in the 1950s. There were no wetsuits so he and his mates wore thin rubber suits - optimistically called dry suits, he laughs. "They were awful! You had to roll them together at the waist. That was supposed to make a watertight join but it didn't. There was no warmth in them. We used to wear long johns and pullovers underneath. When our fingers got white down to the middle knuckle we would hop out."

Members of the New Plymouth Underwater Club line up in their wetsuits at Kawaroa Baths. From left: Ken Taylor, Gerald Goudie, Robbie Galvin, Patrick Fromont and Don McDonald. Image: Puke Ariki 0.24.4.

The rubber suits were so thin the divers would have to steer clear of sharp objects to avoid getting holes. "After a dive we'd spend a couple of hours with the old bike repair kit patching up all the holes."  

The first wetsuits to come out weren't much better. "After every dive you'd come up carrying a leg or arm that had fallen off because they hadn't got on to how to join them up properly - they'd just glued them together."

That was in the days when the only instruments available to divers were depth gauges. "We'd go down to 80 feet (26.6 metres) and get crays then guess at how long we had to wait while rising so we didn't get the bends. We were just lucky that none of us got them."

Local scuba divers Don Allen (left) John Till (hidden) Ben Hanna and Robbie Galvin on boat Diver One. Image: Puke Ariki 0.24.3.

John was one of the original members of the New Plymouth Underwater Club and did most of his early diving off New Plymouth, around the Sugar Loaf Islands. "The crayfish were just thick in those days. I remember going into a cave and there were so many crays they were on each others backs." The octogenarian believes if you can dive in the rugged conditions off New Plymouth you can dive anywhere in the world.

A "double" holiday

"Diving adds a fantastic dimension to overseas travel. Every country is different - it's the same underwater. No matter where you dive you find something you've never seen. It really gives you a double holiday, both above and below the water."

"I'll tell you one funny story," he smiles. "We were diving in Fiji and had hopped onto a bus to refill our bottles in Suva. The bus was packed with Fijians and had open sides.

Well we had stopped at a place in the bush to let some people off when one of the Fijian guys stood on the stem of a bottle. Do you know how much pressure is in one of those bottles? 3000lb per square inch! That bottle took off like a rocket through the bus. Luckily it didn't hit anyone. There were Fijians everywhere - jumping out the windows and doors and running into the bush. It took two hours for the driver to convince everyone to get back in!"

On a Mexican adventure John chartered a boat to take him to a dive spot. "The skipper was drinking - a bottle in one hand and driving the boat with the other. When we got to the dive spot I asked for my spear gun. It turned out he hadn't packed it. I was pretty brassed off. But he made a joke of it 'No worry senor, plenty of fish here. You can catch them by hand, you don't need a gun ha ha.'

"I dived down and swam around a bit, and damn me I came across a discarded fishing net! And there was a big fish in it! I managed to untangle it, surfaced and threw it in the boat. 'You're right' I told the skipper, 'You can catch them in your hands.'  He got such a shock he dropped his bottle!"

Shark attack!

A shark attack saw John make headline news back in 1967. "I was about 300 yards (277 metres) off this island in the Coromandel just snorkelling along spear fishing. I had a rubber inner tube with a wire on it that I was hooking my fish onto. I'd just caught my second fish when I sensed something and half swung around.

That's when the Great White Shark bit me. His upper jaw closed on the lead weights I was wearing around my waist. He bit so hard he left three of his teeth behind. I'd have had my bottom taken clean off if I hadn't been wearing that lead belt!

"I started swimming back to the island on my back so I could keep an eye on him. He was swimming back and forth behind me like a sheep dog. I'd just read Jacques Cousteau's book on shark attacks and I knew that when he started shivering all over he was going to attack. I struck him in the nose with the sword end of my spear gun and he sheared off then went back to swimming back and forth behind me until I was right in close to the rocks.

I staggered ashore and one of my mates came along, looked at me and said 'What the hell happened to you?'"

A local farmer had noticed a big shark patrolling just off shore, so John caught a red moki that they used as bait, attached to an empty sealed 200-litre drum which they anchored offshore. The next morning everything had gone.

"He'd never have got rid of that drum," John smiles. "It gave me some satisfaction to know we'd got the bastard!" The farmer never saw the shark again.

Time to slow down

John finally gave up diving aged 84, in 2001, when his son Max suggested that perhaps he was pushing his luck a bit. These days he spends his time above water, watching Max and three grandsons Nigel, David and Peter do the diving. "I'm enjoying being a fisherman!

"Diving is a wonderful thing. It's been an interesting sport because I grew up with it. There have been so many changes. It has matured and grown with me."

But it wasn't until 2006 that John officially retired from the legal world. "I was the will gexpert at the end, going in one half day a week and also doing some consulting work."

At a large function in New Plymouth work colleagues performed skits based on John's career and hunting, diving and flying exploits. "I'll never forget them. It just bought the house down! It was most enjoyable."

During a mock trial at the function John pleaded not guilty to being a daredevil and engaging in risky pursuits. "I've had a great life, there's nothing I regret," he smiles. "I certainly can't look back and say 'If only I'd done this.' Because I had! Life has been fun!"