Little John walking through the forest. Photo: Hamish McNeilly
I heard a rumour about a mysterious man who lived in a cave near Outram a few years back.
So a photographer and I went to what we thought was the spot, but we never found him.
In journalism you end-up chasing a few of these dead-ends.
Nevertheless I put a few feelers out, and on Thursday it paid dividends.
I got a message from councillor Mike Lord, who had given the hitchhiker known as ‘Little John’ a few rides in recent times.
We were going to meet at Outram to try to find the spot, but Mike messaged a few hours before that saying he had Little John with him.
That’s how I ended-up with a man who lives in cave, riding in my car on Thursday afternoon.
So here is the tale of Little John, four years in the making.
Little John leans into the car, after a drive to Outram. Photo: Hamish McNeilly
Little John told me how he found solace in the cave, on the outskirts of Outram, west of Dunedin, a decade ago.
“Coming to the cave was a way to escape all the evil that was going on,” the 57-year-old told me as we walked a few kilometres to the site he calls home.
“It is more of a bedroom and a place where I am comfortable ... but I’m still part of society.”
Little John’s cave. Photo: Hamish McNeilly
Little John, a nod to Robin Hood’s companion with a distinctive hat and feather, is regularly seen thumbing rides between Outram and Mosgiel, where he picks up food parcels to survive on.
“I’m not living off the land, I’m just living in the land because it is a beautiful place to be.”
He drinks water from a nearby stream, and once had a pet possum he named Joanna for company, before it was killed by pest control contractors.
His little slice of civilisation includes a makeshift drop-off box: a red hat at the start of a track where people leave him supplies – including a child who used to leave him lollies on a rock.
Little John said he knew the area when he was younger, but returned a decade ago during his lowest ebb.
He had been living in Timaru and decided to return to Dunedin and “abandoned all of my goods”.
After a couple of nights in a shelter, and with no money and no accommodation, he returned to the track.
“I found a quiet spot to lie down, all I had was the clothes I was wearing. When I woke up I discovered I was in a glowworm colony ... it was amazing.’’
His cave contains a few personal items. Photo: Hamish McNeilly
Little John said the experience coincided with him giving up an addiction to painkillers, which started after a serious motorcycle crash as a 19-year-old.
The crash left him with “a massive head injury after my head went into the headlight of a Holden Commodore”.
“But since I have been living in a cave it has actually healed properly ... it is the hard ground and the fresh air.”
The cave lifestyle, which included the odd visit from rats, possums and pigs, was somewhat of a midlife crisis, he conceded.
“It was either buy the Porsche, or live in the cave.”
His lifestyle is a far cry from his Dunedin childhood, and his parents who were both laboratory technicians.
Little John was educated at Otago Boys’ High School, and went to polytechnic to study to be a draughtsman, but his career ambitions ended after the crash left him with injuries to his head, neck and spine.
Instead, he spent years working on organic farms in exchange for board and food.
He had not had any contact with his family since he was 40, and was estranged from his former partner and their son.
“Basically I left the pills in Timaru and was suffering massive withdrawal symptoms.
“The cave was a good place for me to chill out.”
He bought a sleeping bag and a hoodie the first week, and had not looked back.
“I’ve broken away from the system completely. The Lord is in charge of my life, not the Government.”
He had stopped his benefit, and instead relied on charity, such as food donations, and the occasional odd-job for cash.
He estimated he survived on less than $500 a year, but would not recommend frugal living for everyone.
“I don’t think other people could hack it.”
An old kerosene lamp, a cooking cup and a drinking cup. Photo: Hamish McNeilly
His cave was a small opening under a large rock, which offered him enough room to lay his sleeping back down on a mattress of ferns. In the colder night he would have another sleeping bag, and wear thicker clothes.
Hanging above him was an old kerosene lamp, a cooking cup and a drinking cup, while a box of matches was nestled in one of the many nooks.
At one end he could light a small fire, while a fresh pool of drinking water was metres from where he laid his head.
The other end was a small rock wall which prevented the chill from reaching him.
A public flush toilet was a ‘‘hike'’ from his site, otherwise the bush offered better views.
Little John said he liked to walk out each day, but had been flooded in a few times.
Little John lights a pipe. Photo: Hamish McNeilly
A recent donation included a pig, but he had no oven to cook it on. That prompted him to start work on his latest project, an earth oven constructed of clay and located near a ‘picnic spot' he had made for the odd walker who used the track.
Human visitors were few and far between, but there was a local policeman who would check on him occasionally, and he got regular rides from locals, including Dunedin Cr Lord.
His Christian faith also helped: '’I trust the Lord to provide for my needs’'.
Little John credits that faith with his good health, “He is looking after me”.
He no longer liked being inside buildings: “that’s what happens, you become a fresh air freak”.
The local streams were too cold to bathe in, but he had some friends who offered him a hot shower when he wanted one.
‘‘I’m not an animal.’’
But he does get lonely.
‘‘I am looking for a cave woman . . . just don’t use that as the headline.’’
But how to find a future partner was another matter entirely.
‘‘Don’t look on Tinder, you won’t find me there.’’
Not his dating profile. Photo: Hamish McNeilly
Nor will you find him at the doctor, or the dentist.
‘‘Dentistry is something I do myself.’’
That DIY dentistry involved using pliers and sandpaper to remedy them.
“My teeth aren’t pretty, but they are very strong.'’
While he hadn’t spent all the last decade in the cave, he had retreated to a shed, which doubled as a storage area for some of his handful of possessions: two electric guitars, a mini Stratocaster, and a 1950s lap slide guitar.
He also liked to play the piano at a local church.
That delay with what was happening around the world, included when New Zealand went into its first nationwide lock down, due to the global Covid-19 pandemic.
“That was a surprise.’’
Little John said he was now focused on plans to release some Christian songs, after composing dozens of bush-inspired songs.
His musical plan included a children's album based on the 10 commandments.
‘‘Composing these songs wouldn’t have happened in any other environment.’’
The tale of Little John is far from over.
Thanks to Little John for sharing. As always if you have any tips or feedback, please email me at hamish.mcneilly@stuff.co.nz
kjlamond2@gmail.com