Barry Hermansen (of B&P Hermansen Logging Ltd fame) may have entered the transport and logging industry a little late, but that doesn’t diminish his valuable contributions. Over three decades, he’s worked tirelessly throughout the central North Island, trained multiple new drivers and even lost his hairline, and for that, he’s a Southpac Legend.

“I was always Hermy in the factory days,” says Barry. “And then I suppose when I came into transport, I was receding quite badly and the guys just started calling me Baldy. And then came my wife’s wicked sense of humour – she bought me personalised plates for the ute, and I’ve been ‘Bawldy’ since.”

Barry grew up in the small town of Dannevirke. His parents had a farm, where he, his brother and six sisters spent much of their early years in the rural environment. At the age 14-and-a -half, one of Barry’s sisters threw his textbooks into the bath and right then he declared ‘he wasn’t going back to school’.

“So, I scored a job at a dairy factory as a labourer, in the milk bottle processing plant – milk bottles and cream,” says Barry.

He says that his background on the farm meant that he was always interested in machinery, and that interest moved to trucks. Barry got his license at the age of 18 and went out on the road for the duration of his time at the dairy factory.

“They wouldn’t let me go out before I was 18,” he says. “Although they also had a TK Bedford, I started off in a TS3 Commer, but that Commer wasn’t going too good, I didn’t know whether it was me driving it or just Commer in general. So, they gave me a new International ‘Butterbox’, ACCO 1800. And I thought I was king then.”

During his time at the dairy factory Barry was also doing part time work (metal and logging) with a contractor, Terry Satherley.

“I ended up doing an 18-month stint for him, and got a passion for logging,” says Barry.

“That’s where I really wanted to go, but you didn’t think you were going to get an opportunity in a little place like Dannevirke.”

He says that the attraction was the challenge of the road and seeing the countryside.  

“It’s really great being out there in the morning and watching the sunrise and the dark breaking into day. You could talk to yourself, and you’d hear your own echo, it was so quiet, it was cool. So, any chance I had to jump in on anything I would,” Barry says.

In 1988 the dairy factory closed the doors, so Barry had to find something to do, especially since he now had a wife and young family. Thankfully his ‘then’ brother-in-law worked in Napier, at Pan Pac.

“He wanted me to come up and drive for him,” says Barry. “So, I’d travel up on a Sunday night or Monday morning and work with him for the week. I did that for a while. He had a brand-new Kenworth, and I thought I was made. A K100 with a setback front axle, I didn’t know any better.”

Barry’s sister and brother-in-law parted ways and as a result, so did Barry, opting to head south, traveling from Dannevirke to Masterton and working for a haulage company for a couple of years, before returning back to the Pan Pac mill.

“I got the opportunity to put a truck on casual,” says Barry.

“The bank wasn’t very interested in giving us money, because they’d heard of casual contracts not going very far. But anyhow, we stuck it out for 12 months, and were offered a full contract in 1995, an opportunity I jumped at. From then on that was that.”

The business started off as B&P Hermansen Partnership, before then changing to B&P Hermansen Logging Ltd.

“I started off with a second-hand Foden and then in 1999 I bought a brand-new Kenworth with a C12 CAT in it. A really good little lorry that was as well.”

Barry continues; “I was 45 at that stage, and that’s where I always reckon that I was a bit late getting into transport. But don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed every minute that I had there.”

Barry got a second truck (and driver) around 2003, but didn’t think he could afford another Kenworth, so he bought a Volvo FH.

“And then we got rid of the two of them, and I bought two Kenworth Signatures in 2005,” says Barry, evidently proudly.

They continued as Barry and driver for a while, before Barry went off the trucks, and the business went up to two drivers, with Barry filling in for holidays.

“Then in 2011, we put four new Kenworths on and I sort of got up in the staff numbers. But I was getting older as well. So, I thought that was going to be my maximum,” says Barry.

As the years rolled on, Barry began to slow the business down and then Cyclone Gabrielle came in early 2023.

“I had one good driver and myself, and I thought, `we’ll see how the old health stacks up’. The driver needed money that we couldn’t afford to pay him sitting still. We let him and the truck go, and that was me. That was at the end of March 2023,” he says.

“We’re married with two boys, and both have got other interests. One’s a farmer, and one owns a Ford garage at Whakatane and isn’t interested in trucks, so it was an easy decision to get out. We didn’t have to do a family thing,” says Barry.

After the flood, Barry did a few months with a local carrying company, metaling the forest roads, followed by driving for Craig, his nephew, and ‘trying not to let the reins go, but getting told I should let the reins go’.

Barry was in the logging/transport industry for around 30 years and says that it’s his passion that kept him there.

“The passion was in the trucks; they’re a beautiful thing to look at. Everyone’s got their own design and whatnot, but it’s quite good going out there in the morning and looking at them and saying; ‘They’re nice and they’re ours’. 

“Not when they’re broken down, I don’t enjoy them then,” he jokes.

On that, Barry recalls one morning one of his drivers called and said, there’s a bit of a rattle in the engine. “And that resulted in the broken crankshaft. That was, that was probably my saddest time as far as mechanical breakdown,” he says.

According to Barry, the logging industry itself is challenging with its ups and downs.

“When it’s going good, it’s good naturally. And then you have your tight times. I’m hearing from the boys that it hasn’t come back since the flood. They’re going okay, but it’s not great.”

As for the forestry workers, Barry says you have your good ones, and the not so good. “The odd one was a bit rough and knocked the gear around, and you went away with your lip dragging a bit.”

Barry says; “It’s pretty hard to tell a loader driver that you’ve got $200,000 invested in a logging trailer. Some don’t care which is a bit disappointing.”

He says that engineering changed a lot during his time, believing that the technology has helped, albeit at a cost.

“They’ve got it pretty easy now, with lighter chains. The biggest challenge was throwing chains over high loads. Plus, air winches so you don’t have to crank down on the twitches.

“They should get that mandatory in the bush, because if you can stop somebody’s shoulder from damage in the early part of it, then they’re not gonna have a problem later.”

Reflecting on his time, Barry says that four drivers out of his company have now become owner drivers at the mill. “Which I feel quite happy about. Every young fellow needs a chance.”

Barry’s wife Pauline has been with him all the way. He says that ‘she’s gone along for the ride’, but adds that some days, when the mail man would bring a maintenance bill down the driveway, he thinks she could have run away from it.

“But she’s been really passionate. She knows that it was in my blood, and there was no way she was going to get it out until it ran out,” Barry says.

Barry has a few ‘advice’ quips. “When I started driving up here, the drivers with Pan Pac said; ‘You’re not a logging truck driver until you rolled the trailer. (this was pre rollovers). I thought, gee, I don’t know about that.’

“I was determined that I was never going to have a trailer roll over. And I’m pleased to say that throughout my career I never have. So, I don’t believe that was good advice.”

He also says; “Learn and listen. Because even at my age I am still learning. And listen to the legends here, we’ve had some good guys here, we’ve lost some just recently, and you take out what they say. Cautiousness in the bush and stuff like that.”

And as for those just starting out, he says don’t try to be a legend in five minutes.

“Just learn to crawl before you walk. Legends will come later in life if you haven’t tipped things over or buggered it up. And honestly, my biggest gripe with new drivers was that they wanted to do 100kph in a fully loaded logging truck.”

Outside of logging and transport, Barry’s interests lie in caravaning now, but adds that his sport was always motorsport – stock cars, jet boat racing, things like that.

“The old blood was running petrol fumes all the way through it.

“But now, when I think about it. I did a 25-year stint with a dairy factory and just done 30 here, plus odd jobs in between. I think trucks have been my life’s history, really,” says Barry.