22 December 2025

Chat on the Chathams

WRITER & PHOTOGRAPHER: Greer Paterson

He Kōrero Nō Rēkohu Wharekauri. Chat on the Chathams.

In a place as remote as Rēkohu Wharekauri Chatham Islands, making the most of resources and being self-sustaining is less an aspiration than a necessity. Greer Paterson, 32, our resident columnist – and also a school teacher, fencing contractor, mum of two and much-loved Shepherdess team member – gives a glimpse into her “Backyard Butchery.”

Rather than ripping open gifts under a sparkly tree, last year my children, Lauren, 4, and Hunter, 2, woke on Christmas morning with another very important job on their minds: helping Grandad prepare the all-important Christmas ham. The large rump had been neatly scored, and the kids poked a clove in each intersection with great concentration and precision before smothering it with a glaze consisting mostly of cheap marmalade.

Watching on with my cup of tea, I asked Lauren, “Do you know what that meat is? It’s the back leg of a pig.” After a few moments, she thoughtfully asked, “Who shot it, Mum?” My mother and father smiled as I explained how this delicious ham came to be Christmas dinner.

I love that my children know where their food comes from. The Chathams are, of course, well known for bountiful seafood. Let’s not forget about our famous weka – a delicacy here. Many areas of the main island are also home to wild sheep, cattle and pigs. Free-range, organic and naturally seasoned with the salt spray, you can’t beat the quality of a good animal here. My partner, Kenny, is the main hunter in our family, although, when possible, the children and I will tag along. Sometimes he hunts for recreation, but more often than not it is to fill our freezer, or those of our family and friends.

When stocks are getting low and I begin to search “100 ways to cook stewing steak,” all eyes turn to the weather. The weather dictates life here, including how full the freezer is. As soon as a week of strong southerly wind and little rain is forecast, all other plans go out the window to allow for a cattle beast to be slaughtered, aged and processed. Don’t be fooled by my use of fancy words. “Aged” here refers to hanging the cattle beast from the forks of the tractor on an exposed hill for a week – hence needing the wind to keep it cool.

With no officially trained butchers on the island, we rely on experience – and on watching friends and YouTube clips – to be able to make the most of a whole animal and to distinguish between ribeye and rump steak. My area of expertise lies in slicing, dicing, mincing, bagging, labelling, and then stacking the freezer with expert precision. Although my skill set does not lie in dealing with the first few stages of processing an animal, I certainly take pride in how efficiently I have learnt to organise and run what I call the “Backyard Butchery.”

When the day comes to break down an animal, all hands are on deck. It’s usually a whole-day event with our friends. The kids help to bag meat and load meat into the mincer. The barbecue always makes an appearance to feed the troops – often with fresh-cut fillet steaks served on buttered bread.

Kenny and I do like to occasionally get adventurous with our cuts, attempting things like the “tomahawk,” which is essentially an extra-large beef chop, or “Thor’s hammer,” which is from the shank. We also purchased a sausage maker last year and now make all our own sausages, usually with pork. Twisting the sausages into shape has taken quite some time to master, but we have it sorted now. I have found the best place to hang sausages to dry is, of course, the clothes line! Occasionally bacon or beef biltong get added to the mix. What this means is, in terms of cuts and variety of meat, we are almost completely self-sustainable – which is honestly the best gift any day of the year. Just need to keep Kenny away from my chickens!

Glossary. Weka, a brown-feathered, flightless but fast-running endemic bird.

This story featured in our Raumati Summer 2025/26 Edition.