There’s a moment just after first light when the Martinborough Transport Ltd yard feels less like a working depot and more like a rolling display of pride and craftsmanship. Lined up beneath the Wairarapa sky is a fleet finished in a rich, unmistakable green, cut cleanly by bold silver stripes that accentuate the lines of each cab and trailer. According to the company, Martinborough Transport operates as Wairarapa’s largest livestock and cartage firm, running powerful European and Australian-made trucks designed for efficiency and durability in demanding rural conditions.
In the low morning sun, mirror-polished stainless steel and chrome flash from fuel tanks, bumpers and steps, reflecting light back across the yard. It’s a striking sight—one that stops even seasoned transport people in their tracks.
Look closer, and the story deepens. Intricate artwork and murals give each truck its own personality, transforming hard-working livestock units into individual machines with presence and character. Keeping a fleet looking like this doesn’t happen by chance. It takes relentless dedication—washdowns after long, dirty days in stock yards, constant attention to detail, and a culture that refuses to let standards slide, no matter how early the start or how late the finish. In an industry defined by mud, dust and hard kilometres, maintaining this level of presentation day in, day out is no small feat.
At Martinborough Transport, the green paint, silver striping and gleaming stainless steel are more than visual flair. They’re a statement of pride in the gear, the people who run it, and the work it does.
A Town Built on Sheep, Roads—and Empire
Daybreak in the Wairarapa has a particular stillness. A pale wash of pink creeps across the sky, mist hangs low over vineyard rows and river flats, and the only movement comes from stock shifting in paddocks as the countryside slowly wakes. Just south of Martinborough, on Lake Ferry Road, a set of headlights pierces the haze as a big green livestock unit fires into life. The engine settles, air lines sigh, and another working day begins.
For readers unfamiliar with this corner of New Zealand, Martinborough sits at the southern end of the North Island, east of Wellington. Today it’s best known for boutique vineyards and world-class Pinot Noir, but long before wine put the town on the map, it was sheep that defined the landscape. So many sheep, in fact, that Martinborough once carried the rather unceremonious nickname “Mutton Borough.” Every paddock seemed to hold wool, and livestock movements were the heartbeat of the district.
The town itself has a unique claim to fame. Its streets are laid out in the unmistakable pattern of a Union Jack—an unusual design choice that reflects both ambition and heritage. The layout was conceived by the town’s founder, John Martin, an Irish immigrant who purchased the land in 1879 and designed the settlement as a deliberate symbol of the British Empire. From above, the plan is unmistakable; on the ground, it creates a compact, orderly town that still feels distinctly rural.
It’s farming country in the truest sense—rolling pasture, sheep and cattle stretching to distant hill lines, vineyards clipped into neat rows, and narrow two-lane roads that twist and dip with the contours of the land. Beautiful, yes, but demanding. Trucks here don’t simply point and shoot; they work for every kilometre.
From Martinborough, roads run north toward Masterton and the Waingawa sale yards, east toward coastal flats battered by Cook Strait winds, or westward up and over the Rimutaka Range. The climb is steep and technical, separating rural calm from the bustle of Wellington. Tight corners, sudden fog, wandering stock and the occasional stretch of gravel keep drivers sharp. This is the environment Martinborough Transport knows intimately.
Built on Rural Ground
Martinborough Transport didn’t begin as a large, polished operation with yards full of modern gear. Like many of the best trucking stories, it started with a single truck and a willingness to say yes.
In 1981, after a local freight company folded, Trevor and Carol Hawkins took a chance on themselves. With a second-hand Ford stock truck and a simple promise—anything on or off farm—they went to work. Sheep to Waingawa, cattle to processors, wool bales, posts, fertiliser; if a farmer needed it moved, they made it happen.
Those early years were spent learning every back road and farm gate across the Wairarapa. The countryside became a daily office—green hills in winter, dust and heat shimmer in summer, lambing sheds in spring and busy yards during sale season. Reliability mattered. If a truck turned up when promised, word spread quickly. The work followed.
Slowly, the fleet grew. One truck became two, then three. Drivers were added, all sharing the same work ethic. Martinborough Transport became a familiar sight on local roads, its hawk emblem a quiet marker of a family business that took pride in what it did.
A Second Generation Takes the Wheel
By the late 2000s, Martinborough Transport had firmly established itself as a regional force in livestock and rural cartage. In 2009, the reins passed to the next generation—sons Daniel, Josh and Jared—who had grown up around trucks, yards and early morning starts.
Each brought a different strength to the table: workshop and fleet maintenance, business and logistics, operations and dispatch. What united them was a shared understanding of the rural customer and a determination to keep improving without losing the personal touch their parents had built the business on.
One of their first major decisions was physical. The original town-based yard was no longer fit for purpose. In 2014, the company shifted to a purpose-built site on the outskirts of Martinborough, turning an open paddock into a modern transport hub.
Wide yards allow stock units to manoeuvre easily, while an on-site heavy vehicle workshop—complete with diagnostic equipment and a dedicated inspection lane—keeps downtime to a minimum. Upstairs offices overlook the yard, and alongside them sit driver accommodation units, a practical solution in a region where housing has become increasingly scarce as Martinborough’s popularity has grown.
People First, Gear That Matches
Ask what makes Martinborough Transport work and the answer comes back to people. Drivers, workshop staff, office crew—many locals, some second-generation, others young recruits learning the ropes.
Drivers are trained progressively through licence classes, eased into larger combinations with carefully selected equipment. Not everyone stays forever, but many do, and those who move on often return. In an industry constantly chasing good people, that loyalty speaks volumes.
Good people, the Hawkins believe, deserve good gear. Over recent years, European trucks—particularly Scania—have become increasingly prominent. Models like the S650 and S770, with their V8 engines, are valued for power, driver comfort and reliability on New Zealand’s varied terrain. Long climbs, constant cornering and inter-island work reward trucks that look after their drivers as much as they pull hard.
There’s still room for traditional American iron in the line-up, and the debate continues in the smoko room, but modern Scanias have earned their place.
Beyond the Valley
While Martinborough remains the heart of the operation, the business has long outgrown its hometown boundaries. Strategic partnerships now extend its reach into Manawatū, Canterbury and Southland, allowing nationwide coverage that mirrors the realities of modern farming.
Stock doesn’t always move short distances. Seasonal pressures and market demand can see animals transported hundreds of kilometres, sometimes across the Cook Strait. A truck might leave Martinborough before dawn, cross the ferry at Wellington, roll through Picton and finish the day on the Canterbury Plains with the Southern Alps glowing pink in the distance.
A Typical Day, Done Properly
Out on a country lane near Gladstone, a livestock unit eases back toward a loading ramp. Sheepdogs circle, cattle shuffle forward, gates clang shut. The countryside hums quietly—cicadas in summer, bellbirds in shelter belts, wind brushing through long grass.
Moments later, the truck pulls away, load secure, engine note settling into a steady rhythm. Another job done. Another link in the chain that keeps rural New Zealand moving.
As dusk falls back at the Lake Ferry Road depot, trucks roll in one by one, dust-coated but intact. Lights flick on across the yard. Tomorrow’s runs are already being planned. Out beyond the gate, the Wairarapa settles into evening beneath the Tararua Range.
Come morning, the mist will lift again, engines will fire, and Martinborough Transport will be back on the road—doing what it has always done best, in a town once known as Mutton Borough, built on sheep, hard work and roads that still lead straight into the heart of rural New Zealand.
