16-05-2025
Coromandel Peninsula's Devcich Farm shines a light on Dalmatian pioneers
Their legacy, the Devcich Farmstead, is listed as a place of special significance with Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga, for 'reflecting significant developments in Dalmatian settlement in early twentieth-century New Zealand'.
The sheds, now clustered under a Croatian flag, also reveal their industriousness and range of skills.
Simun Devcich arrived in New Zealand from Podgora with his two brothers, Marion Anton and Nicola, just after the turn of the 20th century.
They worked their way up through gum digging and trading and into farming, buying the block, which was much bigger then, in 1915.
Simun had married another immigrant from Dalmatia, Matija Mercep, in 1913 and had five sons and two daughters.
He eventually took on the farm from his brothers, going from dairy to sheep farming, with his three eldest sons working alongside.
Commercial farming has stopped now, but Simun's granddaughter, Lorenza Devcich, has restored the buildings and runs a menagerie of coloured sheep, llamas, Highland cattle, emus and assorted exotic birds on the land, which remains, with tourists often staying in the old homestead.
'My grandfather and his two brothers, they came from Yugoslavia to escape the army,' she said.
'Even for years after, the young men would leave because as soon as they got of age … they would get thrown into the army.
'My grandfather had about 11 pack horses that he and his boys, my uncles and father, used to pack supplies right up into all the camps at the top end of the valley.
'When they'd first come here, a lot of [the gum diggers followed by loggers] had no money, so a lot of it was on credit.
'He also bought gum and sold it. So, they'd come back here with the gum, and that's how he'd get paid.'
Dalmatian immigrants were among New Zealand's wine-making pioneers, and the Devcich family produced wine on a small scale from the late 1920s, under their Golden Valley label.
Lorenza remembers helping her father Ivan in the wine shed, which still houses a wooden fermenting vat and other wine-making tools.
'And there's probably the last standing bottle of sherry up there, still with some sherry in it. It hasn't been touched,' she said.
'And maybe it could even be one of the ones that I bottled, because my job here was the dog's body.'
Lorenza still tended to the 80-year-old grape vines today, using 'the worst talkback radio station' she can find to blare out and scare away the birds.
'The sherry and the wine were all made from grapes grown on the property,' she said.
'All the beautiful, big black Albany Surprise, I think it's called, … is still there producing."
While the saw mill now stands quiet and the trading post has shut its doors, the farm courtyard is now home to a strutting peacock, brightly coloured pheasants and guinea fowl.
Lorenza stores their feed in a shed once used to stable Simun's beloved racehorses, an interest he took up in later life.
'They got fed all the lovely, cooked barley and everything.
'You'd go into the house, and you'd smell it cooking on the old coal range ... all the old farm horses, the pack horses and everything else, just lucky if they got thrown some hay.'
She has somewhat sad memories of Simun.
'He got kicked in the stomach by a racehorse and ruptured his stomach, and he survived that, but then not long after, he had a stroke.
'I used to love sitting down talking to him, but when I'd start talking to him, get him to tell me the history, he'd get upset and start crying.'
He died in 1971, once a strong, active man and very much the 'boss' in his day, and one of the pioneers of the valley, Lorenza said.
