Single and over 70 - Christmas lunch with the Kaikōura Lions

For 50 fabulous years, Kaikōura pensioners have gathered to be wined and dined by loyal Lions at the club’s beloved Christmas lunch.

This year there were 85 guests — the only criteria for an invitation being local, single and aged over 70. Seven Sharp reporter Rachel Parkin snuck an invitation and permission from her husband to attend.

As he fastened and wiggled his bow tie, Rusty Arthur looked up and grinned at his crony.

“Is this right?” the 82-year-old asked.

“Bit to the left,” came the reply.

On went the shiny black shoes and Arthur was off on chauffeur duty for the Kaikōura Lions’ biggest event of the year.

Eighty-five guests were on the Christmas lunch list. All over 70. All single.

“You ready?” I asked as we strolled to his car.

“Yup!”.

“We’re off to get Yvonne Morrison, she’s a local identity — an ex-military person,” Arthur said.

“She’ll be ready then!” I said, with a chuckle.

And she was – champing at the proverbial bit when Arthur knocked on the door.

The Lions’ lunch, Morrison told me, once she’d become accustomed to our camera, was an annual highlight.

“Yes, very much. I think it’s because, you know, we all worked our [whole] lives and we had Christmas break-ups and things leading into Christmas and this is sort of like that now,” she explained.

“Oh, and to have the guys [Lions’ members) waiting on you with their bow ties, you know.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Door-to-door service and bow-tied table service were a modern-day rarity.

As we headed off from Morrison’s hilltop flat – Kaikōura’s pretty peaks and iridescent blue ocean to the right – it was a day to behold. A true, blue Kaikōura stunner.

“Why would you live anywhere else?” Morrison asked, and I nodded.

Arriving at the Kaikōura Golf Club, flowers and sticky label name tags lay in wait at the entrance.

“We put name tags on them because when they sit at tables, they might sit with people they don’t know. Or they can’t remember and Kaikōura Primary School … little kids… make these,” one lovely lady explained.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” I said, sneaking a sniff.

“Yes, beautiful,” she agreed. “It’s great [the school kids] love doing it.”

As lunch was laid out – four courses no less — the flowers were but one example of the coastal town’s community spirit.

“Yes, it’s a real community affair,” Lions member Tony Davis said.

The roast ham and lamb were cooked in advance by tourism operator Dolphin Encounter. The table runners were donated by the op shop and funding for most of the food was from the grocer.

The feast (which was fit for royalty and enough for an army) was dished up and out with military precision, thanks to months of planning and toil.

“What are we up to now, mains?” I asked Lyn Smith in the kitchen.

“Yes, main course. We serve two rows of the mains so at the other end we’ve got two rows of plates.”

Just through the kitchen hatch, the black and white-clad waiters were coiled springs.

“We really enjoy it, the highlight of the year,” one told me, as another flushed crimson at the attention.

The star of the service show had to be Melville Syme. At 84, he was a Lions alumni.

“I was at the first one [Christmas lunch] they ever had as a Lions Club member,” he said while fetching two ‘12s of lager. “To me and those involved in organising everything, it’s the highlight of the year.”

“I’ll bet! Shall we take a selfie?” I asked Syme, wondering if he knew the term.

“Yep!” came the quick reply.

It sure was a room flush with characters.

“Is this the naughty table?” I asked a very merry trio.

“Who told you that?” one replied, with a laugh.

“Just a hunch.”

“This is our first year!” he told me. “I only just turned 70, just scraped in.”

“It’s my first one, too,” his friend said. “My Mum’s here, so I just thought I’d better come to support my mother.”

“And I’ve got to support these two ratbags here!” chortled the third.

Minutes later, Lions server Pete McInnes swept past with a one-liner.

“If you have long arms and no manners, you’ll never go hungry,” he quipped.

“True,” I replied.

It was a great day out for guests and servers alike – several of whom could have been either.

For the Kaikōura Primary School Choir, it was a chance to shine.

“We’re singing for you guys, some Christmas carols,” Arthur’s great-granddaughter Indie told me. “Rudolph and Oh Holy Night and some other ones.”

“The classics! Are you excited or a bit nervous?” I asked.

“Both,” she replied with a grin.

Minutes later, while Santa delivered treat bags to tables, Indie and schoolmates worked their magic inside with Oh Holy Night, a harmonised showstopper.

Then it was time for the final flourish, a 50th-anniversary cake the size of an oven tray.

As per tradition, cutting honours went to the most senior senior in the room — centenarian Jill McKenzie, who drove herself to lunch straight from the dentist. Putting that bad boy off was never an option.

As the 85 plus-70s rolled out, and were rolled out, from the Kaikōura Golf Club — stomachs full and spirits high — one thing was clear.

“Had a good day?” Arthur asked Morrison, opening the car door for her.

“I’ve had a great day… thank you so much,” she replied.

The 50th anniversary of the Kaikōura Lions’ Christmas lunch had worked a treat.