Daffodil Days

Published on September 16, 2022

Life member of the National Daffodil Society and foundation member of the Central Daffodil Group, local legend Reg Cull brightened lives with his daffodils.

Information Research and Local History Librarian Kiri Pepene reflects on his life and love of the springtime flower.

As a child, my favourite time of the year was spring. On the farm, there was cuteness in abundance with all the lambs frolicking around. If we were lucky, we would get to look after any orphan lambs. It was a magic time. However, the best bit was the random splashes of sunshine in the top paddock. It was my happy space and I would spend hours sitting with the buttery, bright daffodils. When I got married, the only thing that I really wanted were daffodils in my bouquet, which was not an easy task when you marry in late October. Thanks to Reg Cull of ‘Hokorawa Daffodils’ I had a beautiful bunch of daffodils in my bouquet.

Reg’s lifetime work with daffodils started when he was just 13 years old. His Father and Aunt Sybil both grew them, and quickly it became his passion. Many years later, he was still growing bulbs that had strains from his Father and Aunt’s daffodils. 

Reg was a dairy farmer for many years and during that time grew daffodils as a hobby on their Newth Road Farm, Foxton. In the early 80s Reg decided to become a full time grower and the 100 acre farm was split with three acres dedicated to growing more than a million daffodil bulbs. 

After each Christmas, one third of the bulbs were lifted. Reg did a lot of the work himself but at busy times he got help from Student Job Search and other members of the family. The bulbs were sorted and dried in onion bags and stored in one of the old cowsheds. Some of the bulbs were destined to be replanted; others were sold as part of their mail order business. Reg and wife Rita worked well as a team, Reg working with the daffodils, and Rita working in the office and managing the mail order side of the business.

In spring, visitors from the local old folk’s home, classes of schoolchildren and many international daffodil lovers came to see the spectacular paddocks full of sunshine. They were busy times but Reg loved sharing not only his knowledge, but also the joy that the displays brought to people both young and old. The cut flowers were sold at the farm from a roadside stall, a little house that Rita’s father built. For a few years, he gave free daffodils to the Cancer Society for their yearly Daffodil Day, hand picking all of them.

Reg loved attending daffodil events. When the family were young, they all enjoyed going to the local shows and he was always successful with the flowers that he had bred. Prize daffodils were picked and saved in the chiller until show day. It was an important part of their lives and they made some great friends from the circuit. Reg and Rita hosted many visits to their home for growers from around New Zealand and the world. He was in great demand to talk to garden clubs around the region, and his great knowledge and sense of humour meant his visits were always a success.

Slowly over the years, the business became a hobby once more. Growing was his joy and passion. The last show he went to, he won every prize. His winning bloom ‘Crystal Gem’ was described as a truly superb bloom by The Daffodil Society.  

Reg really enjoyed breeding daffodils. It’s a long process, but he relished in the excitement of not knowing what you would get as the end result. He worked hard on the breeding side and throughout his life registered 28 new varieties of daffodils. The process could take up to ten years. Reg bred many more but only the best made it to being named. The Cull family helped to come up with the names, which included ‘Spring Fling’, ‘Twelve Gauge’, ‘Whippersnapper’ and 'Tooth Fairy.’ 

I like to think that every spring all over the world, Reg’s ‘host of golden daffodils’ and splashes of Foxton sunshine ‘flutter and dance in the breeze’.  

References: Rita Cull, Colleen Hayes (nee Cull), New Zealand Gardener Jan/Feb, ‘The Daffodils’ by William Wordsworth.