All streets have their stories: this is one of them. Marion Findlay has researched the group of houses clineing to the ridge on the northern side of the steep Robertson Street linking Ōwhiro and Island Bays. The street adjoins an area of early Māori settlement, but its own history is much more recent.
Robertson Street was named after Alexander Robertson, part owner of the Happy Valley Station. In the late 1940s Robertson Street was a rough gravel road with no footpaths, connecting Severn Street to Happy Valley Road, bounded on the north side by a gully and small stream flowing into the Ōwhiro Bay stream and on the south by a steep hillside. During the ‘baby-boom' in the years following the end of World War ll couples had serious problems in housing their families, since building materials, specially cement, were in short supply, and returned servicemen were given preferential treatment for housing and government loans. The Robertson Street subdivision in 1948 was a package deal civilians could access. Each section cost £95 and the loan scheme of 4.25% to 4.5% over 25 years was guaranteed by the Wellington City Council. Purchasers had a choice of four housing plans, but not surprisingly, everyone chose the cheapest at £1820, a two-storey two-bedroom house which could be extended comparatively easily to four bedrooms.
A narow flat shelf was bulldozed into the southerm hillside above Robertson Street and ten identical houses were built, causing an outcry about how ‘ugly’ they were. An article in the Evening Post referred to them as ‘piano boxes' and the name stuck As a result the plans for subsequent houses in the subdivision were changed Initially the subdivision had no water or sewage pipes connected a night-cart operated in part of Ōwhiro Bay at the time) but the Council connected both, probably because as guarantor of the loans it had an interest in doing so.
The ground floor of original houses had a long lounge/dining area across the front (the northern side) and a kitchen, bathroom and laundry across the back. Stairs led up from the lounge to two bedrooms at the front and to storage space under a sloping roof at the back. By lifting this sloping roof it was comparatively easy to enlarge the house to four bedrooms. The exterior of the house was unpainted grey fibrolite, with malthoid on the flat part of the roof and dark red concrete tiles on the sloping part.
The interior was mostly heart rimu with pinex ceilings, oiled rimu floors and no doors on the bedrooms. The kitchen was very small but had an abundance of cupboards.
The inhabitants of those first ten houses were, for a variety of reasons, not unduly concerned about their appearance. In general they were grateful to be in their own homes. And once they had moved in, they had problems more pressing than mere appearances. There were no paths provided and the new owners had initially to scramble up the clay bank from the street. When they got round to building their own paths there was no cement available for concrete, and householders carried buckets of shingle all the way from Ōwhiro Bay Beach. When it rained the clay outside turned into a sea of mud, impossible to keep out of the houses, and when the rain came from the north a lack of eaves and inadequate flashings meant the large window in the front of the house leaked badly, ruining the wallpaper. Eventually the builders partially fixed the problem but for years towels had to be placed along window sills when rain came with the northerly gales.
The sections behind the houses ran up the hillside and were initially covered with gorse. Fires, ascribed to local delinquents, were a recurring and very alarming problem. The bank behind the houses was apt to slip, and on one occasion a large mud slide entered and badly damaged number 28's kitchen. The section immediately east of number 28 was considered unsafe for building because of possible slipping, and although some stabilizing efforts using retaining walls have been made over the years it still has no dwelling. The original houses had no fences and until the owners could afford them the local cows and sheep made gardening a haphazard business. No telephones were available for five years and then it was a party line. It was a common occurrence for neighbours who didn't have a phone to visit a household which did and ask to use the phone. Milk was delivered by horse and cart.
Money was short in those days and saving for improvements or to fix mistakes could take years, but slowly people built paths, planted trees, shrubs and gardens, and extended and improved their houses. Nine years after moving in Heather and Bob Packer used the space in front of their house at No 28 to add an extra living room and bedroom. They also built a porch over the eastern entrance into the old lounge and built a terrace and stone walls, and a garage on their frontage, for which they paid the council a modest rental, originally £4 per year. (In early 2008 the frontage rental for No 24 was $280 per year.) Other householders made similar improvements. Most terraced their hillsides and added the two extra upstairs bedrooms, several built rooms out the front, one added brickwork and a brick veneer, some constructed garages and all homes now have serviceable access paths.
The houses were very sunny and well-lit. and although they were exposed to northerly winds they were sheltered from southerly storms. It was a very good place to bring up children, with many places to play and numerous children of similar age living in the immediate area. The street had very few cars, the Robertson Street creek was not filled in until 1958, and children had freedom to make forts, to visit the beach and roam the hills.
Today the houses are still known affectionately as the piano-box houses, although they are no longer a blot on the landscape. Each has individual alterations, and trees and shrubs have softened harsh outlines. In early 2008 number 24 was offered for sale. It had four bedrooms upstairs, and a ground level room built out the front with sliding doors onto the front deck, which could be used as a fifth bedroom, a study or as extra living area. An additional studio or sleepout had been built on the second terrace on the hillside behind the house. This house, which in 1948 cost £95 for the section and €1820 for the house, in 2008 had a rateable value of $420,000.
Special thanks to Mr. and Mrs Packer.