<name key="name-418778" type="work">White Wings Vol I. Fifty Years Of Sail In The New Zealand Trade, 1850 TO 1900</name>

White Wings Vol I Fifty Years of Sail in the New Zealand Trade, 1850 to 1900 By Henry Brett The Brett Printing Company Limited Shortland Street, Auckland 1924

Preface. "If ghosts should walk in Deptford, and ships return once more To every well-known mooring and old familiar shore, A sight it were to see there, of all fine sights there be, The shadowy ships of Deptford come crowding in from sea." C. Fox Smith.

When I began the series of articles in the "Auckland Star" my only intention was to settle the much-disputed questions of record passages for sail between London and Auckland, Sydney and Auckland, and San Francisco and Auckland. Those who have taken any interest in shipping matters, and being an island people there are few of us who are not interested in ships and sailors, will know that very different opinions are held concerning this matter of records. Even many people who came out from the Old Country have in after years got very much mixed in their ideas as to the time occupied in the passages, and you will frequently find passengers who made the trip together vary many days in their recollection of the number of days they took to reach New Zealand. So many people have in their minds the run land to land, instead of port to port.

The two first articles I wrote were devoted to clearing up this matter of record passages, and I had no intention of delving further into the history of the past, but so much interest was excited by this revival of memories of old-time ships, and I received so many letters, not only from Auckland, but from all over the Dominion, that I was induced to go much further afield than I first planned, and the result is to be found in the following pages. With such reminiscences it would be extremely difficult to get them into perfect chronological order, but I have made the best arrangement I could.

With these explanations I beg to launch this frail barque with the hope that it will have on board some memories of the "good old days" that will be welcome to the old hands (who will be able to read between the lines and fill in the gaps). It will, I feel sure, appeal to the many descendants of the pioneers, and indeed to the younger generation generally, as in their youth they must have often listened to tales of the "board ship days" of their parents or relatives; and moreover, I have never yet found the child that does not want to hear a tale of ships and the sea.

And these stories are interesting for another reason: they bring home to the people of to-day the vast difference between travel now and fifty years ago. The comforts, in fact the luxuries, of the modern fast steamer, with its wireless, have revolutionised ocean travel and robbed the sea of half its terror. Gone are the discomforts of poor food and long passages; gone are the rigours of the Southern Seas and the perils of the Cape Horn route. The passage through the Panama Canal to-day in a liner is not much more strenuous than a yachting trip.

As it would be quite impossible for me to refer to all the immigrant and other ships that visited the Dominion during the years with which I have dealt, I have confined myself mainly to the ships of the New Zealand Shipping Company, the Shaw, Savill Company, the Patrick Henderson Albion Shipping Co. (the chief rival of the Shaw, Savill Company before the advent of the New Zealand Shipping Company), and in addition I have also dealt with some of Willis, Gann and Co.'s ships, the White Star Line, the Blackball Line Houlder Bros., and other privately owned ships which sailed to New Zealand prior to 1860, and a number of what may be called "outsiders" that distinguished themselves by making rapid passages or had an eventful career. Many of these last-mentioned ships were chartered by the Shaw, Savill Company and the New Zealand Shipping Company during the seventies and eighties to bring out immigrants.

With regard to the details concerning the voyages of the ships dealt with I may explain that those of the outward passages have been taken from the accounts given by the captains to the newspapers at the ports of arrival, and were obviously supplied from the log-book. Details concerning some of the runs Home have been gathered from other sources, but they may be accepted as accurate.

My records deal with the years between 1850 and 1900, and although after the Shaw, Savill and New Zealand Shipping Companies started running steamers, practically all passengers came out to New Zealand by steamer, a number of the crack sailers continued trading to New Zealand up to as late as 1905—bringing out general cargo from the Old Country, and returning with wool, wheat, tallow, etc. It is to be noted in these later years these smart sailing ships, heavily laden, did not make the same quick passages they did when travelling light with passengers.

Naturally there were hundreds of vessels making only one or two voyages, of no particular interest, that will not appear in this book—indeed, to give a full record would take more like three volumes than one volume—but as I have the record of the arrival of all ships in the several New Zealand ports, I will be pleased to reply to any enquiries as to the dates referring to particular ships if any of my readers requiring the information will be good enough to address the enquiry to me at the "Auckland Star Office."

While the articles were running through the "Auckland Star" I received from time to time corrections of details and additions from many sources, and these have all been embodied in the articles as they now appear in book form.

In compiling these articles I have been indebted to numerous correspondents, but particularly I should like to thank Mr. J. Mallard, of Dunedin; the late Mr. F. G. Layton, of Wellington, who died in May, 1923; Sir George Fenwick, of Dunedin; Mr. Russell Duncan, of Napier; Mr. Walcott Wood, of Christchurch; Mr. C. V. Houghton, of Auckland, who until recently was Manager of the New Zealand Shipping Company; Mr. K. Lucas "Nelson Mail"; Mr. P. O. Wheatley, Shipping Reporter, "Dunedin Star"; Mr. de Maus, Photographer, of Port Chalmers; Mr. H. N. Burgess, of Auckland; Mr. C. F. Cliffe, of Auckland; Captain R. H. Duder, of Auckland; and Mr. Basil Lubbock, for extracts from his book, "Colonial Clippers." Further, I should like to thank the many people who have written to tell me of the pleasure they have had from reading these reminiscences of the old times.

H.B.

Takapuna, Auckland,

1924.

Boarding The Ships.

Life of the Marine Reporter—Strenuous Times in the 60's—Out in Fair Weather and Foul—Some Close Calls.

For many years I have been requested by members of the Press and others to publish some of the experiences of the Auckland shipping reporters fifty years or more ago, when all intercolonial and foreign news, and all news south of Auckland, was obtained by "the man in the boat." In those days every vessel from a full-rigged ship down to a coasting cutter had to be boarded by the reporter.

We had to go out and meet everything that came in—fair weather and foul. Having been a keen oarsman in my home town of St. Leonards-on-Sea, the boat work was interesting to me, but nowadays, when I look out on Rangitoto Channel, lashed by a nor'-easter, I often wonder at the reckless way one used to run risks in stormy weather, with hardly a thought of the danger. But I was a young man then, strong and keenly interested in my work, and if the truth were known I rather suspect that the spice of adventure about the work made it all the more fascinating.

Dangerous Work.

Sometimes, however, our experiences went beyond the adventurous, and a man never knew whether he would get back to the wharf safe and sound. There was poor Harry Lewis, of the "Herald," for instance, the man whose place I took in 1865. His mother, by the way, used to keep a school for girls in Shortland Street, and many of the belles of early Auckland received the rudiments of their education from her. In 1864 Harry Lewis had a nerve-racking experience when going alongside a sailing ship in a gale of wind. His boat swamped, and he had a narrow escape from drowning. The following year he met with a very painful accident which put him out of commission altogether as far as shipping reporting was concerned. While his boat was lying alongside a steamer which was letting off steam a stream of hot water shot out of a porthole immediately above his head, and he was so badly scalded that he had to give up his post on the "Herald." Then, again, there was the sad accident which happened in 1867 to two watermen employed by the late Mr. W. Wilkinson, the well-known journalist, who was then shipping reporter on the "Southern Cross," the paper on which I started in 1863. One of the watermen was drowned and the other had a close call; but I will refer to this incident more fully later on.

On The Look-Out.

Shipping reporting in the sixties was at the best of times strenuous work, and frequently meant getting up at daybreak no matter how late you had finished the night before. Repeatedly in the summer months I would be up from 5 a.m. until 2 a.m. next morning, because small vessels arrived at all hours, and some of those from the East Coast ports were often, during the Maori war, of more importance than the larger vessels. Whenever the wind was in from the North one had to be continually on the look-out, from early morning until the paper went to press, and the only time that a shipping reporter could really take his ease, and not keep his eye glued on the flagstaff at Mount Victoria was when there was a dead calm on or a strong wind from the South, with the tide running out, which would mean some hours for a vessel to beat up from Tiri to Rangitoto. When available I usually engaged one particular waterman, Tom Munro, at first, and then Joe Cook, both fine oarsmen. Watermen were quite a feature of the waterfront in the sixties, and they used to have their waiting room, or rather house, on the western side of the old Queen Street wharf, just about where the Ferry Buildings stand at the present time.

As an instance of the lively work we had, I may mention that on March 2, 1868, I boarded twenty-eight vessels, mostly coastal schooners and cutters. The skippers always endeavoured to be in port on Sunday. I took a keen interest in the work, and naturally got to know many of the skippers and other officers very well, and they would keep newspapers or news for me.

Nearly Run Down.

As I have said before, fair weather or foul, we had to be out and about, and time and again I was down the Rangitoto Channel in a howling gale in an open waterman's boat. When the westerlies swept down from the Waitakere Ranges the work was not only hard but dangerous, and more than once I came near to finding a watery grave. On one occasion I remember only too well the narrow call I and my boatman had when waiting for the barque Kate, one of the Circular Saw Line of clippers. It was a thick dark night with a stiff westerly blowing, and we were well down the Rangitoto Channel, intending to board the vessel when she came up. When the barque was signalled inside of Tiri lighthouae, there was only a light westerly breeze, and so we expected to have to row out beyond the reef, but when we were about two miles outside the North Head the wind freshened. Suddenly as we lay there endeavouring to pick up the red light on the barque a huge black hull loomed out of the night and swept by our boat—so close that we could have jumped aboard if her speed had been less like a shot out of a gun, or if we had not been so thoroughly scared. That incident happened on March 12, 1864.

Dark Night And Heavy Gale.

On another occasion in the same year I had an exciting adventure which began one night, extended into the next day, and finished up by my paper bringing off one of those scoops which were the spice of journalistic life in those days. The ship Scimitar had arrived during the afternoon and reported having passed another full-rigged ship on the coast, so when at sundown "Sail in sight" was hoisted at Mount Victoria I made for the wharf with my binoculars. It was then blowing a snorting gale from the west, and this raised a sea which made a harbour trip anything but a pleasant prospect, especially at night. About eight o'clock a red light showed round North Head and then disappeared in the direction of Rangitoto, and after waiting half an hour I knew that the craft had anchored for the night. There were in those days some dozen licensed watermen, and of that number two were compelled to be on duty at night. Turning into their waiting-room I said: "Come along; here's a fare for you." "Where are you going?" asked the men on duty, and when I said "North Head," they replied with fervour, "No jolly fear; we are not going down there to-night." Even an offer of £3 did not move them, so I made my way round to Wynyard Pier where there were two well known watermen, Strong and Conolly. Mention of Wynyard Pier reminds one how these old landmarks are disappearing. This pier used to run out from the pohutukawa-fringed beach of what was then Official Bay, opposite Short Street, but all traces of it have now been obliterated by the reclamation extending from Beach Road well out to sea.

After a good deal of persuasion Conolly agreed to take me down the harbour. With such a gale blowing we went down with "bare poles," as sailors say, and ran under the lee side of the new arrival. I managed to climb on board, but there was such a howling wind that it was a long while before I could attract anyone's attention. At last the second officer appeared and aroused the captain, when I obtained a full report of the voyage, with passengers' names and a list of the cargo.

We left the Gladiator, for such was the ship's name, at about eleven o'clock and started to pull over towards the North Head, but wind and tide were against us (it was still blowing a furious gale and as dark as pitch), and so we could make no headway. The only thing left for us to do was to try and make for the southern shore, somewhere about Kohimarama. Broadside on to sea and wind we had a terrible struggle, and I thought we would never get over. In order to dodge the Bean Rock reef, which had no light then, we had to keep well down to the eastward. Eventually we did make inshore enough to miss the worst of the westerly, and then began a tedious and exhausting pull along the shore up to town. At last, after a great battle, we managed to make Wynyard Pier which we reached about 4 a.m.—five hours of hard plugging since we left the ship.

But that wasn't the end of it. I at once made for the "Southern Cross" office at the corner of O'Connell and Chancery Streets, and when I got there found that all the compositors had gone home and the machinists had started printing the paper. Telling the manager of the machine room to send up a page I sent word to the foreman, Mr. Gimble (who for many years afterwards was foreman printer on the "Herald"), and in the meantime I got out a pair of cases and started to set up the type. We had to go to press to get off a certain number of copies in time for Cobb and Co.'s coach, which in those days was our only means of communication with the Waikato, and started at about 5.30 a.m. As soon as the Waikato papers were run off we again got the page up, and with the aid of two other "comps" who boarded at the Auckland Hotel only a few yards from the office, we set another half-column, giving a list of the cargo and consignees. In these days every item on the manifest, with consignees' names, was published, as this was frequently the first advice merchants received, owing to the irregular mail service. So ended one of the most strenuous days, or rather days and nights that I had ever put in during what was always a more or less strenuous time.

A Close Call.

Another exciting incident, in which I came very near to losing the number or my mess, was connected with the arrival of the brig Papeete, a vessel of 300 tons, Captain Ludwig, which was inward bound from Tahiti. It was on June 6, 1864. She came round the North Head with a strong north-west breeze, and we went down the harbour to meet her and attempted to board her as she was standing across to Orakei. In those days our usual custom of boarding the vessels was for the boatman to hook on to the "chains" with the boat-hook, with myself at the tiller, and I would run forward and haul myself aboard. We followed the usual course, but the brig was going through the water at a great pace, and the boatman called out, "Hurry up; I can't hold on any longer!" Just before the boat-hook slipped from his hands I had barely time to get some sort of a hold on the "chains," but I could not get up, and there I was hanging on the lee side, my body occasionally going completely under water; and shout as hard as I could, I could not make myself heard against the wind that was blowing. Unfortunately, no one on board had observed our boat going alongside.

By the time the brig went about (it appeared to me a very long time), and the crew found me when they came over to attend to the ropes; I was well drenched, and getting near the end of my tether. They threw a rope ladder over, but I had not the strength to raise myself, and I was a pleased man when two sailors came down and hauled me on deck. My hands were much chafed through hanging on to the chains. Mr. Hart, the supercargo, a well-known man in the Island trade, filled me a "bos'un's nip" of good French brandy, put me into his bunk after stripping off my wet clothes, and I slept like a top for three hours.

These Island boats were always well worth watching from a news point of view, as they generally brought in some good copy concerning the Islands, which were then much more isolated than they are now, and wrecks were more frequent on the coral reefs when the trade was all done by sailing vessels. The Papeete was afterwards condemned in Auckland, and for many years her bones were lying on the beach at Devonport.

Illustrating the danger a man ran in boarding vessels in rough weather, I well remember an incident that happened to Mr. W. Wilkinson, an old newspaper man, for many years proprietor of the "Thames Advertiser," who died 1921. It was in the year 1867, when he was shipping reporter on the "Southern Cross" and I was on the "Herald." On November 23 of that year the ship Water Nymph, Captain Babot, dropped anchor in Auckland Harbour after an excellent passage of 85 days. She lay off Orakei, and as there was a severe westerly gale blowing none of the reporters boarded her. Early the following morning—it was Sunday—there was a slight lull in the gale, and I sailed down to her and got my report. As we left the ship Captain Babot came to the side and handed down a bottle of gin, saying: "You will want this before you reach town," After a hard slog at the oars against wind and heavy seas, we reached Queen Street wharf. When we were about an hour away from the Water Nymph we very nearly collided with another pulling boat under sail, in which Mr. Wilkinson was going down to the ship. Owing to the big sea that was running we did not see him until he was very nearly on us. In the evening the sub-editor of the "Cross" came to me and asked if I had seen anything of their shipping man, as he had not turned up. I told him I had seen Mr. Wilkinson going down the harbour to the Water Nymph. The "Southern Cross" then wanted us to let them have a report of the ship's arrival, but our people naturally refused, as there was keen rivalry between the two journals at that time.

By Monday the gale had blown itself out, and Captain Babot came up to town, bringing Mr. Wilkinson with him. We then learned that there had been a tragedy. After Mr. Wilkinson had clambered aboard the Water Nymph, his two watermen, W. Wright and Keane, in order to get what shelter there was, dropped astern of the ship and made fast to her. In a squall the ship began to drag her anchor, and the shore boat, getting under the ship's counter, capsized.

The wind was howling, so the cries of the two watermen were not heard on board the ship, and the first that was known of the accident was when someone noticed the body of a man floating in the water. The second mate and a sailor, with lines tied round their waists, jumped in to the rescue, and after great difficulty the watermen were got on board. Keane, who just managed to hang on to the cable, came round after about an hour's treatment, but Wright was gone beyond recall, although every means was used to restore life. Wright was one of the oldest and most respected of the licensed watermen who then used to ply from Queen Street wharf. He had been a waterman for 27 years.

Captain Babot and the people of the Water Nymph subscribed £15 for the benefit of Wright's widow. This generosity is typical of the "blue water" sailors that used to man the beautiful clipper ships. Captain Babot was a very well-known master both in the sailing ships and later in some of the first steamers that flew the house-flag of the Shaw Savill Company. He was afterwards appointed ships' husband at Wellington, where he died a few years ago.

Fisticuffs.

The duties of a shipping reporter were a pretty fair training for the "ring" away back in the good old days. When I left the "Southern Cross." in 1865, five men were tried in my place within two years, and I sometimes had a brush with my rival for the time being. Once when clambering up the narrow companionway of a barque with my bundle of papers under my arm, I felt a tug. Turning round I was in time to see the rival reporter trying to make off with the parcel, so I was under the painful necessity of knocking the gentleman down the stairway, where the captain added some appropriate remarks.

Only a few instances are given of the many trips made during heavy gales to meet vessels, frequently outside of Rangitoto reef, on the darkest nights, and on those occasions when hugging the shore from Takapuna up we on several occasions ran ashore or touched a rock, necessitating either the waterman or the writer getting out to push the boat off.

The Cattle Boats.

With News From Australia.

There were in the early sixties during the years of the Maori War what were then considered some noted vessels trading from Australia to Auckland, such as the Claud Hamilton, the Auckland, the Otago, and the Prince Alfred, a craft of 700 tons, the last-mentioned being very little bigger than the Northern Company's steamer Clansman. These steamers were subsidised for a few years to bring over from Sydney the English mails, and return with the outward mail and passengers to connect with the steamers leaving Australia for England. The Phoebe, in command of Captain Worsp, who in later years settled with his family in Auckland, also traded between Sydney and Auckland in 1864. These steamers were engaged in bringing over from Australia troops and provisions. Auckland being the first port of call, the young town was for three or four years more regularly supplied with mails and news from the outside world, but when the war in the Waikato ceased, we had again to rely mainly upon sailing vessels for Australian papers, which from time to time would contain summaries of English, Continental and American news brought to Albany, and sent on the wire to Melbourne and Sydney.

Walking To Onehunga.

When the gold rush started at Hokitika, on the West Coast, steamers, including the Aldinga, Gothenburg, and Albion, used to bring over thousands of miners from Melbourne to Hokitika. These boats invariably brought a mail and late papers from Australia. The boats running between Nelson and Manukau would then bring Australian papers on to Auckland. That was why the steamers coming up the West Coast had to be watched by the shipping reporters as keenly as the boats from overseas, and when the signal was hoisted at the Manukau Heads for a steamer arriving the reporters made their way to Onehunga.

In those days there were no motor cars or motor bikes, the only communication being by bus, which ran twice or thrice a day from Hardington's stables, situated near the fine building now occupied by John Court, Ltd. Reporters frequently had to walk either to or from Onehunga, and on more than one occasion when steamers arrived late I walked to Onehunga and back again. In those days, however, we thought nothing of a fourteen-mile walk. A marine reporter had to be always alert and the only safe plan to follow was to board everything and leave nothing to chance.

The Cattle And Coal Boats.

Many an important bit of news was brought to Auckland by the "white wings" of the Circular Saw line, but as they were the regular traders they generally brought complete files of the Australian newspapers for the Auckland daily newspapers. It was the unexpected arrivals that used to lead to the "scoops." There were for instance the boats that came from Australian ports, such as Newcastle, Gippsland, Gladstone, Port Curtis, Two Fold Bay, Port Albert, and others, with fat cattle, coal and produce for the young colony of New Zealand, which was not of course so self-supporting as it is to-day. Perhaps only one newspaper, and perhaps only half a newspaper, would be found on board these craft by the enterprising shipping reporter, so that naturally the keen man used to watch these stray arrivals with double vigilance. Five o'clock in the morning, during the summer months, would find me aboard such an unexpected boat making a search for anything in the shape of a newspaper. There was always the chance of a choice column or two of cable or important Australian news for the Auckland reporter who first got his hands on the journal.

The Kate Waters, Island City, and other barques made regular trips from Australia, and they were especially fitted up for the carrying of fat cattle. The steward of the Island City, having on previous occasions observed the keenness of the reporters for newspapers, took advantage of this knowledge. On one trip, when the vessel anchored off the Tamaki river, where the cattle were generally landed, I was on board about six in the morning. Not a scrap of any newspaper was available, either from the captain, mate or crew, and I was about to leave the vessel when the steward came to the side of the ship and stated he had a copy of the "Sydney Morning Herald" containing important English and Australian news for which he wanted payment. I immediately offered him a shilling, but this was indignantly refused. The steward all the time had his eye up the harbour to see if other reporters were coming down. There were two, and before they reached the side of the ship my offer for the paper had risen to 5/-. The steward would not "part," and when the other reporters arrived on the scene the paper was put up to auction and was eventually handed to me for 10/6. When I opened the paper and found it had over a page containing the summary of a month's news from England, which had been telegraphed from Albany to Sydney; also important Australian news, I was well satisfied with my bargain; but when I told my employer, Mr. W. C. Wilson, of the "Herald," the money I had paid for the paper, he did not appear over pleased, but on the following day, after being congratulated upon the "scoop" by several merchants, he with a smile, said the paper was cheap and I had done well in securing it.

The cargo of these boats—fat cattle—gives us an admirable picture of early Auckland, which to-day ships its thousands of carcases of frozen meat to the London market. Although these sailing craft were specially fitted up to carry cattle, the loss when bad weather was encountered in the Tasman Sea was very severe, the vessel arriving occasionally with only one-third to one-half the number of cattle shipped. Other barques brought coal from Newcastle and wheat from Adelaide. The wheat was ground at Firth's and Partington's mills, the former being a steam-mill on the Queen Street site now occupied by Smeeton's, and the latter a windmill, which oddly enough, has survived all the innovations of this busy age, and its whirling sails are still one of the landmarks of the city.

Happy Days.

It was these spasmodic cattle and coal boats that the active reporter marked for his own, and many a scoop was brought off by the early bird. The Auckland merchants, particularly those closely connected with shipping, such as Thomas Henderson, J. S. Macfarlane, S. J. Edmonds, Coombes and Daldy, and others would often, after a "scoop" had been made, slap the young reporter on the back as he went down the east side of Queen Street between ten and eleven in the morning (when most of them were standing on the side walk smoking their pipes) and say to him: "Well done!" There was a distinct personal pleasure about the work of a newspaper reporter in those days, and when recalling my experiences I say, without any reservation, "The best time of my life was the eight years that I was marine reporter in Auckland's early days." There was ample scope in those days for enterprise in securing "scoops," but ever since the United Press Association was started over forty years ago, and now that the Journalists' Union (recently formed) has a time limit of eight hours work only, and other arbitrary conditions, everything is brought down to a dead level and it is seldom any paper makes a real "scoop." The Journalists' Union, however, has had one good effect—reporters are now paid an adequate salary for their labour. When I was reporting on the "Southern Cross" and "Herald," I was for several days at work from five in the morning until two or three the next morning, and never on any occasion, with the exception of Saturday, left the office before 1 a.m. For this I received less than the salary of a present day junior reporter.

The Te Kooti Massacre.

How The News Came To Auckland.

An event which caused a great stir in Auckland, and in fact, throughout the colony, was the massacre of settlers at Poverty Bay by Te Kooti and his murderous band in December, 1868. The news of this horror was brought to Auckland by the Lord Ashley (Captan Worsp). She used to tie up on the western side of the old Queen Street wharf, but on this occasion I was alongside before she rounded the jetty. Mr. Moss, the purser, who had been on the coast for a number of years, was an old friend of mine, and when I went alongside he shouted: "Catch this and pull for your life." And I did not wait to hear any more, but got ashore and ran as hard as I could for the office—I was on the 'Herald' when this happened. We went at it right away, and brought out a really good edition, and before the other reporters had collected their information from the people on board the "Lord Ashley" we were selling the "Herald" in the street. The papers then publishing were the "Herald," the "Southern Cross" and the "Evening News." It was a great scoop for the "Herald," and we came in for a good deal of commendation for our smartness in getting out such an account in such a short while.

A Savoury Derelict.

"Scoop" That Miscarried.

A good yarn, illustrating the keenness for a shipping story scoop, even after I had long discarded the reporter's pencil and had become the head of the "Star" centres round a mysterious derelict that had been sighted floating bottom up off the North Cape. One day in February, 1886, a well known skipper of those days, Captain Savory, then master of the steamer Herald, running coal from Westport and Greymouth, reported that he had seen either a wreck or a new island, and there was much excitement and speculation when the morning paper came out with the report. As soon as I saw the paper I went down to the waterfront, and after some negotiation chartered the Awhina, a wooden steamer of 136 tons, which for a number of years plied as a tug in Auckland, and afterwards was sold to a Fremantle firm. It was agreed that the "Star" should pay £50, and that newspaper and tug should halve the salvage, the vessel to go out under "sealed orders." I arranged with Mr. J. Liddell Kelly (sub-editor) and Mr. A. S. Reid (then shipping reporter, and now sub-editor of the "Star") to join me in the excursion, and went over to Takapuna to pack a few things. The arrangement was for the vessel to sail at 11 a.m. and pick me up off the Takapuna Beach. There was no appearance of the craft until late in the afternoon, and I became suspicious when I saw the Glenelg steaming out of harbour. Knowing it was not her regular day for leaving port, I at once guessed that the "Herald" had also decided to send out a search party.

When I got aboard my vessel half an hour later, I naturally raised a bit of a dust, but Captain Campbell, the skipper, was quite easy in his mind. "Never mind, Mr. Brett," he said. "We'll get there before the Glenelg. Shortly after passing Kawau the Awhina, the boat I had chartered, left the Glenelg behind, and we were well ahead before the night was out. When off Mangonui, early next morning, I decided to go ashore, so as to gather any news which might come to hand during the day from natives and settlers along the coast, while Mr, Kelly and Mr. Reid went on with the Awhina to hunt for the wreck. During the day circumstantial reports filtered in to Mangonui of a wreck having been seen out at sea and of wreckage having been washed ashore further north. It was fine, sensational stuff, and I saw to it that my telegrams made good reading for the patrons of the "Star."

Some time after midnight the search vessels were seen coming round the Mangonui Heads. In those unregenerate days it was first come first served on the telegraph wires, and as I could not be certain in the darkness which steamer was coming in first—the "Star" or the "Herald"—I made up a long message ready to hand in at the telegraph office in order to get possession of the wire to Auckland. In those days the telegraphist used the "tape," and the sending of a message was a much longer operation than it is to-day, so that once a reporter got possession of the wire it was not a difficult matter to keep it and block the other paper. As it turned out, however, this precaution of mine was not necessary. The "Star" steamer was first in after all, but I was greatly disgusted when in answer to my questions I was told that no ship had been sighted but they had discovered a dead whale, "and a very high one at that."

It was a sad end to the elaborate preparations that had been made (not for-gettingforgetting getting that we had agreed with the owners of the Awhina to share the salvage), but still news is news, and in order to let the "Star" get the explanation first it was necessary to capture the telegraph wires and hold them until it was too late for Mr. W. Berry, of the "Herald," to get his stuff through. As I mentioned my "stop gap" telegram was not wanted, the reason being that Mr. Kelly had sent ashore a long message giving an account of the Awhina's search. I at once made for the telegraph office and handed it to the officer in charge, who began sending it to Auckland. When the "Herald" man saw through the manoeuvre, he was wrath, and at about half-past 1 a.m. he demanded to be put through to Wellington to ask if an evening paper could monopolise the wires when the copy was not needed for several hours to come. Wellington sent through instructions to give the "Herald" preference at that time of night, and the "Star" stonewall broke down.

Captain Savory did not hear the last of his wreck for a long while. It was certainly a very large animal, blown out to the size of a small vessel and those who saw it also reported that it had a fine large smell—in fact it was so high that they did not want to get within quite a long distance of it.

It is interesting to recall that the skipper of the Glenelg on this voyage of discovery was Captain Norbury, who is now on the Manaia, on the Auckland-Whangarei run, and is one of the most capable and popular masters trading out of Auckland.

Clipper Days. I am eighty years old and somewhat, But I give to God the praise That they made a sailor of me In the good old clipper days. Then men loved ships like women And going to sea was more Than signing on as a deck hand, And scrubbing a cabin floor, Or chipping rust from iron, And painting—and chipping again. In the days of clipper sailing The sea was the place of men. You could spy our great ships running White-clouded, tier on tier; You could hear their trampling thunder As they leaned-to, racing near; And it was "Heigho and ho, my lad!" And we are "Outward bound." And we sang full many a chantey As we walked the capstan round. Aye, we sang full many a chantey As we drove through wind and wet, To the music of five oceans, That rings in memory yet! Go, drive your dirty freighters That fill the sky with reek— But we—we took in skysails High as a mountain peak! Go, fire your sweaty engines, And watch your pistons run— We had the winds to serve us, The living winds, my son! And we didn't need propellers That kicked a mess about; But we hauled away with chanteys, Or we let the great sails out. And I'm eighty years old and somewhat, And I give to God the praise That they made a sailor of me In the good old clipper days. Harry Kemp ("Cassells Magazine").

Inter-Colonial Clippers.

The Circular Saw Line—Alice Cameron Rescues Crew of Sinking Ship—Fast Passages from Sydney to Auckland.

How many people in Auckland can tell you what the signals on Mount Victoria mean? A certain number can possibly tell when the flagstaff indicates a steamer arriving, but beyond that very few bother their heads. Steam and wireless have taken much of the romance out of the sea.

Fifty years ago, when we had to depend on the beautiful old sailing ships to keep us in touch with the outside world, an expected arrival from overseas was an event, and we used to watch the Mount Victoria flagstaff for days ahead.

Barque Alice Cameron. Everybody knew the graceful clipper ships and discussed their performances, and the names of their captains were household words. People who came to the young colony had a feeling of affection for the ship that had been their home for so many days, and there was always a friendly rivalry between the admirers of the different vessels.

That this natural love of British people for a ship still survives is shown by the keen interest taken in the performances of the old-time craft. How many times in the newspapers have you not seen paragraphs from old hands recalling a fast passage by such and such a ship or barque? In the past twenty years the "Auckland Star" and other journals in the province have contained scores of letters and statements concerning fast passages made in the sailing ship days between Sydney and Auckland, San Francisco and Auckland, and London and Auckland.

As I was shipping reporter ("marine reporter" we used to call it in those days) on the "Southern Cross" from 1863 to 1865, and then on the "Herald" from 1865 to 1871, it has occurred to me that some reminiscences of the fast sailing ships of half a century and more ago would be of interest. During the periods I speak of I made notes of notable passages, and in going over old records I have been able to decide several points which are still being disputed.

Quite recently, for instance, several correspondents have written to the "Star" about the fastest sailing time between Sydney and Auckland, one crediting the Alice Cameron and another claiming that it was the Trieste, with making the record passage under five days. Neither of these statements is correct, and I venture to assert that no sailing vessel has made the run from Sydney to Auckland—that is, port to port—in less than five days.

the Trieste's Record.

One correspondent, writing to the "Auckland Star," stated that the barque Trieste, Captain J. G. Clarke Rowland, made the passage from Sydney to Auckland in four days three hours, but the facts do not bear this out. I may mention in passing that many people have apparently confused the time taken "between land and land" with the time "port to port." the Trieste was purchased in Sydney by Messrs. Thornton, Smith, and Firth, millers, whose flour mill stood on the site now occupied by Smeetons, Ltd., Queen Street, Auckland. She left Sydney on May 13, 1866, at 6 p.m., and passed the Three Kings four days eight hours later. the Trieste experienced heavy westerly gales in the Tasman Sea, but after rounding the North Cape she met with light south and south-west winds down the coast, and anchored between North Head and Rangitoto on the morning of the 20th at 6 a.m. I boarded the barque an hour later. The actual time occupied by the Trieste from port to port was six days twelve hours. Captain Burgess, late mate of the Alice Cameron, was in command, not Captain Clarke Rowland, as stated by the writer, and Captain Sewell, late commander, came over as a passenger. Captain Clarke Rowland was later in command when the Trieste sailed from Auckland for San Francisco to load a cargo of wheat or flour for Messrs. Thornton, Smith and Firth.

A Dead Heat.

Another correspondent. writing to the "Star" over the signature "An Auckland Shipping Agent," claimed that the Circular Saw liner, the barque Alice Cameron held the Sydney-Auckland record, her time being five days four hours. This also is not in accordance with the facts. The Alice Cameron, left Sydney at 11 p.m. on the 16th August, 1862, and passed the Three Kings after a fine run of five days from Sydney. Like the Trieste she met with variable winds after rounding the North Cape, and arrived outside Rangitoto reef about 11 a.m. on the 23rd. She was becalmed there for some hours, and anchored off the Queen Street wharf at 7 p.m. Taking the time of the two vessels inside of Rangitoto Channel, the run occupied about six days twelve hours, so we may call it a "dead heat."

But neither of these runs can be compared with a passage made by the Alice Cameron in 1862. On this occasion, under Captain Barron, she left Sydney on July 27th, at 1 p.m., and carried strong westerly and north-west winds across to the Three Kings, which were abreast at 5 a.m. on August 1st, the barque being then only four days eight hours from Sydney. Her run from North Cape to Cape Brett was done in seven hours. The vessel then had to beat up with a strong south-west wind, during which, shortly before reaching port, she carried away her foretopsail yard. According to the report in the "Daily Southern Cross," she anchored in harbour, completing the passage in five days 22 hours.

The barque Kate holds the palm for the record passage from Sydney to Auckland of any sailing vessel from 1850 to date. the Kate, in command of Captain Sherlock, left Sydney on August 27, 1863, having embarked 80 volunteers under the command of Ensign Coulter and Dr. Drake. She sailed from Sydney at 2.30 p.m. on the date mentioned, and carried a westerly with clear weather right across, the wind ranging from N.W. to S.W. The Three Kings were sighted at 9 a.m. on the 31st after an excellent run of four days six hours.

The barque experienced light winds from the S.W. and fine weather down the coast, and anchored in the Waitemata early on the morning of September 3, five days 20 hours from Sydney. Mr. Alder Fisher, who was an A.B. on the Kate under Captain Sherlock in 1862, is still living in Grafton Road, Auckland.

The Record From Newcastle.

None of these passages are, however, the record from Australia. The barque Adela, Captain Le Brien, sailed from Newcastle with a cargo of 400 tons coal at 4 p.m. on the 30th July, 1876, and passed the Three Kings on the 3rd of August. The same evening she was off the Bay of Islands, exactly four days from Newcastle. She anchored at Auckland on the following day, having made the run in five days. Captain Le Brien reported strong favourable winds throughout the passage to Tiri Tiri island.

Captain Cooper Springs A Surprise.

I well remember on one occasion, I believe in 1867, boarding the Alice Cameron during a black nor'-easter at about 9 p.m. off the Queen Street wharf. Captain Carter, who was in command, said: "the Kate started two hours after us," and rubbing his hands with a smile, he added, "you will not see Cooper for two or three days. We rounded the North Cape just as the N.E. gale started, and we did not sight land again until we got a glimpse of the Barrier; dirty weather all along the coast." To my surprise, at about 11 p.m., Captain Cooper, of the Kate, made his appearance at the office to hand in his report. He left Sydney two hours after the Alice, and dropped anchor about two hours after her in Auckland Harbour. Two years later, on December 6, 1869, the Kate collided with an unknown vessel at sea, and was sunk.

The Auckland-built barque Novelty was also a clipper, and made consistent fast passages from Sydney to Auckland. Her best run was six days 16 hours, and

Barque Kate. on two other occasions she made the passage in between seven and eight days. The beautiful little barque was launched from Messrs. Niccol and Sons' yard, Mechanics' Bay, just about where the railway arch leading to Parnell now stands. the Novelty made one fast voyage to London, and accomplished the run out in 92 days from the Lizard.

The name of Mr. H. Niccol, the builder of the barque Novelty, was inseparably connected with the early history of the shipping industry in Auckland. He turned out many large and fast sailers from his yards in Mechanics' Bay. Later Mr. Niccol shifted across to the North Shore. In 1866 he erected a patent slip, and it was big enough to take a 1000-ton ship. Mr. Malcolm Niccol, who was for many years secretary of the Grand Lodge of the New Zealand Constitution of Freemasons, and is still living in Auckland, is a son of the builder of the barque Novelty.

A Noted Line.

Both the Kate and the Alice Cameron belonged to the famous Circular Saw clippers owned by Messrs. Henderson and Macfarlane, and their sailing capabilities were about equal, although the Alice Cameron during the years the two vessels were engaged in the Auckland-Sydney trade had a better record than the Kate. The Alice Cameron started her career in this run in 1862, when only eight years from the builders' hands. On her first run from Sydney to Auckland, in May of that year, she made the passage in a little over seven days. The "New Zealander" of June 7, 1862, referring to the advent of this little clipper, says: "The Alice Cameron is unquestionably the very finest addition that has been made to the tonnage of the port of Auckland, and is another conspicuous example of the good taste and sound judgment which have been the guiding principles of the enterprising firm to which she belongs. There is no house which has done so much as that of Henderson and Macfarlane. Mr. Thomas Henderson, a son of the head of the firm of Henderson and Macfarlane, was for many years manager of the Union S.S. Company at Auckland. He retired from business in 1923.

Alice Cameron To The Rescue.

Sea history is studded with countless tales of heroism, and many lives have been sacrificed in trying to save others. On the other hand one is thankful to say the list of despicable actions is comparatively brief. A story which has fortunately never been duplicated in these southern seas as far as I remember occurred some fifty years ago. It happened in the Tasman Sea, about 100 miles off the coast of New Zealand. The boat that played an ignominious part was bound from Auckland to Sydney, and the victim was a barque bound from Newcastle to Auckland with coal. Sailing along at midnight one dark and hazy night in the month of October the 337-ton barque A. H. Badger, doing about six knots, was suddenly crashed

Barque Novelty. into by a steamer which never even slacked up to see what had happened, and continued on, going west, at top speed.

The "Badger," as she was generally called, was owned and-sailed by Captain J. L. Leddra, and he had with him his wife and children, who were making their first trip. A fearful smack on the side was dealt to the barque by the steamer, rigging and bulwarks being carried away, and below water the barque's hull was badly holed. Luckily Mrs. Leddra and the children were sleeping on the starboard side, for nothing could have saved them had their cabin been on the port side, where the damage was done. Captain Leddra at once ordered out all the boats left, and his family and the crew put off, as there was no telling what would happen to the Badger. They even saved a favourite Newfoundland dog that had been maimed in the collision.

Rescued.

For a long time the unfortunate people drifted about, but eventually to their joy they saw a sail to the eastward. Quickly it came over the horizon, and the vessel proved to be the Alice Cameron, one of the Circular Saw Line, bound from Auckland to Sydney. No time was lost in getting the shipwrecked people on board the newcomer. It was providential that the Alice Cameron came along just when she did, as before the day closed a heavy storm come up and the rescued people saw the Badger go down. Captain Leddra's daughter, who is still living in Sydney, tells the story of her tragic first trip in a letter she wrote recently to Mr. Thomas Henderson, of Auckland, son of Mr. Henderson, of Henderson and Macfarlane, who owned the Circular Saw Line.

An Ugly Story.

Those on board the Badger knew what vessel it was that had run them down, and when they landed from the Alice Cameron at Sydney the ugly story began to get about. It was the American steamer Nevada that had crashed into them. The Nevada belonged to the Webb Line, which at that time was running the mails under contract with the New Zealand Government between San Francisco and New Zealand, and then on to Sydney. She was a big side-wheel steamer of 2400 tons, her ponderous paddles being worked by huge beam engines that worked through the deck and gave her a very strange appearance. Not a word had been said by the Nevada people when they reached Sydney, so the sensation that was caused by the arrival of the Alice Cameron with the rescued crew and passengers of the Badger was all the more profound.

Nevada To Blame.

Those on the Nevada that were responsible for the collision had to remain behind in Sydney. The matter was investigated by the Vice-Admiralty Court in Sydney, and the judgment condemned the Nevada. It was held that even though the Badger's lights were not faultless, the Nevada did not keep a proper lookout; in fact, the judgment

The Topsail Schooner Huia. of the Court says the Nevada's people evidently never expected to meet another vessel in those wide waters. The Court expressed regret that the Nevada after the collision did not stop to ascertain what damage had been done. The skipper was somewhat absolved as he was not on deck at the time, although he came up immediately afterwards and saw the Badger astern. The Court adjudged the value of the Badger at £1600, and gave judgment against the Nevada for that sum, the steamer also being mulcted in costs. One thing that would strike anyone reading the judgment is the reference to the "high rate of speed" of the mail steamer. She was doing ten knots!

In 1870 the Alice Cameron sailed from Auckland on February 15 in company with the brig Emma for the Bay of Islands. These vessels loaded with a full cargo of whale oil, etc., from the whalers in port, and sailed for New York. the Alice took a few passengers

Later the Alice Cameron sailed from Newcastle, Captain Carter in command, for Manila with a cargo of coal, and was never heard of again. Two other vessels, the American barques Jewess and Lelia M. Long, left at the same time on a similar voyage, and not a word was heard of either from that day to this.

The Brig Moa.

The brig Moa, another of the Circular Saw Line, also put up some fine records. She ran continuously for ten years, from 1850 until 1860, when her place was taken by the barque Kate. As far back as 1852, when in command of Captain Norris, the Moa ran from Sydney to Auckland under seven days, and "but for the consideration given to make the ship easy for the safety of the stock," said the captain on this occasion, "I could have readily accomplished the passage in 24 hours' less time." the Moa had on board 300 prize sheep and 12 horses, and only two were lost on the passage. the Moa also made several passages under eight days when in charge of Captain Bowden, and once—1859—with Captain H. F. Anderson in command.

The Brig Vision.

This was another smart sailer. In 1892 she ran from Newcastle to Auckland in 7 days 3 hours, and in 1894, under Captain Nillson, arrived on May 31st only 7½ days from Newcastle.

The Huia.

The most remarkable run of all across the Tasman Sea was that made by the little schooner Huia. She was built by Mr. James Barber at Kaipara to the order of Mr. (now the Hon. Sir) Edwin Mitchelson), and made a sensational passage of four days six hours from Sydney to Kaipara Heads. Captain George McKenzie, now in business, with an office in the Ferry Buildings, Auckland, was master of the schooner at the time. the Huia also made some remarkable runs when engaged in the Lyttelton-Kaipara trade.

Mr. Andrew Jamieson, writing from Waihi, has supplied me with some further details of this fast sailing schooner. He says: "I was engaged on this vessel with Captain Mackenzie when she made the sensational runs across the Tasman Sea. In addition to the run of 4½ days from Sydney to the Kaipara, on another occasion the Huia left Newcastle and 48 hours after leaving Knobbys light was 510 miles clear of land. Then followed a thrash to windward of 600 miles in nine days, the trip being accomplished in eleven days. On the following trip she frequently logged from 14 to 16 knots from Kaipara, and made another remarkable run to Sydney. When nearing Sydney Heads we almost ran down the Newcastle passenger steamer, and would have done so had not Captain G. McKenzie thrown the schooner aback. It was a close shave, as only from ten to fifteen feet separated the vessels. The passengers and crew of the p.s. Sydney have to thank Captain McKenzie for his superb handling of his schooner in such a tight corner. The incident happened about 9 p.m., when the Huia was reeling off over 14 knots."

Lighthouse At Cape Maria Van Diemen.

Records From San Francisco.

Sensational Runs—29 days to Auckland.

Just as in the case of the trans-Tasman run, the passage from San Francisco to Auckland, and also to Wellington, has given rise to many statements by correspondents—statements that won't stand the test of facts. During the past few years the masters of two vessels arriving at Wellington from the Californian port have claimed to have established a record by doing the run in 42 days and 44 days respectively.

the Northern Chief, belonging to Mr. John Burns, made a passage from San Francisco to Auckland of 43 days, and the ship Dunsyre on one occasion made the run in 38 days to Wellington. None of the above, however, can he called record passages. During the past fifty years it has been

Schooner Neva. generally understood that the fastest passage from San Francisco to the Waitemata was accomplished in 1866 by the Circular Saw liner Alice Cameron (Captain Nearing) when she anchored off the Queen Street wharf on March 9 after a remarkable run of 32 days. I was at that time a reporter on the "Auckland Herald," and recording her arrival on March 10 wrote: "Quite contrary to expectations the Alice Cameron arrived last night from San Francisco after the most rapid run on record, the vessel not being due for some weeks." The Alice Cameron on this trip brought down American newspapers containing seven days later European news than that which had come by the regular mail channels, Suez and Australia.

A small schooner of 90 tons, the Neva, of the Circular Saw Line, on one occasion made the run from San Francisco to Auckland in 43 days. This was considered a remarkable passage for a small vessel of 90 tons. Subsequently she was purchased by Captain Young, who made several successful voyages to the South Sea Islands.

About four or five years ago a correspondent, writing to the "Star" from Wellington, stated: "The controversy in Auckland regarding the fastest trans-Pacific voyage under sail arising out of the Northern Chief's splendid passage has aroused some interest among shipping men here. The honour of making the fastest passage cannot be ascribed to any of the vessels recently mentioned, including the Alice Cameron, Northern Chief, and Neva. I searched the old files of the 'Southern Cross' in Parliamentary Library recently, and came across a shipping report which was so remarkable that I copied it as an historical item. The paragraph recorded the arrival at Auckland on December 28, 1850, of the barque Novelty, after a phenomenally fast run of 29 days from San Francisco."

the Novelty, a small barque of about 300 tons, was owned in Liverpool, and must not be confused with the Novelty built in Auckland. She arrived in ballast. Captain John Harrison was master. Turning up the "Southern Cross" I find that the Novelty left San Francisco on November 28, and arrived at Auckland on December 28. The passage made by this ship, therefore, stands as the record passage of any sailing ship at the time these notes are penned. the Novelty was wrecked during the following year. She sailed from San Francisco on June 6 for Sydney, and on July 6 struck on a reef at Clarence Island during thick weather. The passengers (16) and crew were all saved.

The City Of Auckland.

Built for New Zealand Trade—Popular Craft and Skipper—Ship Afire in Auckland Harbour—Miraculous Escape from Icebergs—A Great Race to London—Wrecked on Otaki Beach.

The most popular commander up till 1872 was Captain William Ashby, who made more voyages from London to Auckland than any other skipper. Captain Ashby claimed to have carried more passengers to and from New Zealand than any other commander. None of the passages, either out or Home, could be called records. He considered his passengers, and did everything possible to make them comfortable. At the same time he never exceeded the 100 days from London in the City of Auckland, the average being 92. When Captain Ashby retired from the sea in 1872 he was appointed the first Marine Superintendent in London for the newly-formed New Zealand Shipping Company, and most of the New Zealanders returning to Auckland booked through his agency. After the death of his first wife, who generally travelled with him, he married the widow of Mr. J. N. Crombie, who was one of the leading photographers in Queen Street, Auckland, during the sixties.

Captain Ashby's first trip was in 1858 in the barque Mary Ann. Among the passengers on this occasion was Mr. Robert Froude, who in 1862 married Miss White, daughter of Mr. Henry White, who arrived at Auckland with his wife and family by the ship Westminster in 1842. During 1922 the happy couple celebrated their diamond jubilee at Howick. The following year, in March, 1923, at the ripe age of 85, Mr. Froude passed away. Mrs. Froude is now in her 84th year, and is still residing at Howick. Mr. Henry White the father of Mrs. Froude, assisted in the construction of Pardington's old mill in Karangahape Road; also the old mill in Little Queen Street and the stone foundations of Pitt Street Methodist Church. the Mary Ann sailed from Auckland the same year for London, taking Home the officers and men of the 58th Regiment. Captain Ashby in the following year arrived at Lyttelton from London on August 5, 1859. The ship had a trying experience in the Southern Ocean, where she encountered numerous huge icebergs, several from 500ft to 800ft high and two miles long. When passing through the ice on the 19th July something struck the ship a smart blow under the main chains on the starboard side. On the following morning it was discovered that the copper was dented. It was supposed that the ship had struck some wreckage, as on the previous day the Mary Ann passed a very large spar like a ship's lower mast, with top and rigging. On July 20th the ship passed more wreckage from a ship of about 800 tons. In 1860 this vessel, after discharging at Auckland, made a trip round to the Kaipara,

Captain William Ashby.One of the most popular skippers that ever traded between London and Auckland in the days of sail. Aucklanders thought the world of him and his beautifully-kept ships—first the Mary Ann. then the Maori, Siam, and lastly, the City of Auckland—and his arrival in port was always the scene of a mild ovation, and columns of nice things in the newspapers. being the first large ship to cross the Kaipara Bar, and loaded up with kauri spars for the Admiralty.

Mr. Alfred Jowitt, who was in Auckland at the time, states: "The spars were all choice specimens of kauri, some being of great length, approaching 100ft. The one noticeable thing about the Mary Ann was that she was 'in chains.' She had two heavy cable chains wrapped all around her about the fore and mizzen shrouds respectively, "boused taut" and wedged up tight. They were certainly not ornamental, but were calculated to hold the ship and her freight together should rough weather be met. the Mary Ann was no clipper, and the drag of these chains in the water would naturally reduce her speed."

Captain Ashby's next vessel was the Maori, and later he took command of the ship Siam. Mention of this ship recalls stirring times, as in 1866, when the British troops were withdrawn, she was chartered while in Auckland to take some of the 14th Regiment across to Hobart Town.

Captain Ashby left the Siam to superintend the building of the ship City of Auckland, which was specially built for

The City Of Auckland the London-Auckland trade. She was a composite vessel, having iron framing, sheathed with 5½ inch teak, copper fastened throughout. She was specially finely fitted up. On a scroll at the break of the poop were carved the lines by Campbell:

"Her path is o'er the mountain wave,

Her home is on the deep."

The "City" arrived in Auckland on her maiden voyage on January 29, 1870, and the reception given her and her popular commander was typical of the way Auckland received her favourite skipper.

An interesting fact connected with the ship's arrival in Auckland on December 11, 1870 (her second trip), was the appearance of the name W. F. Massey on the passenger list, our present Premier being then a young man direct from the North of Ireland.

Scuttled To Save Her.

On January 24 of the following year, at between two and three in the morning, when the City of Auckland was practically a full ship, a fire broke out as she lay alongside the old Queen Street wharf. Valiant efforts were made to suppress the outbreak, but it was soon seen to be hopeless, and the ship was taken out into the stream and scuttled. Two days later she was raised and brought alongside of Firth's wharf, Quay Street, where the Northern Roller Mills now stand, and she sank considerably in the mud.

When the fire broke out there was a £20,000 cargo under hatches, and forty passengers had engaged berths. It was believed that the trouble was started among the flax—a material which has been blamed several times since for causing the same sort of mysterious blaze.

Captain Ashby retained command of the "City" until 1872, and up till then she made four successful voyages to Auckland in two years two months and twenty-one days. On her last round trip she did the return voyage to Auckland in seven months 14 days, having sailed in that time no less than 30,212 miles. Her runs from London to Auckland while Captain Ashby was in command were respectively 98 days, 86 days, 96 days, and 95 days.

The "City" on her first voyage out to Auckland showed a good turn of speed and logged on several occasions as much as 298 miles and 301 miles for the twenty-four hours. The latter figure works out at a little over 12½ knots.

Stewart and Simpson of London were the owners of the ship, Captain Ashby having a £5000 interest in her.

"Star" Pigeons Go To Sea.

Most of the early Aucklanders that went home for pleasure and those that had business in the Old Country used to try and fit in their arrangements so as to sail with Captain Ashby. This was an additional reason why the Auckland people of fifty years ago used to take such a personal interest in this fine seaman and his ships. Not content with giving the "City" a wonderful send-off Auckland wanted to know how the passengers were finding their sea-legs, and just half a century back the "Star" anticipated wireless by sending some of its famous carrier pigeons out to sea with the popular skipper. On December 7, 1872, for instance, there is a message dated from the City of Auckland "63 miles eastward of Tauranga." A second message was sent when the vessel was nearing the East Cape. Four birds were given to Captain Ashby, and two never returned to the "Star" lofts, but a couple of years later Captain Kennedy, of the Tawera schooner, brought word of a pigeon in a kainga at the East Cape. The Maoris had made a pet of the bird, but an offer of £1 induced them to relinquish their claims in the foundling, which proved to be one of the missing quartet. The Maoris had kept the message which was tied round the bird's leg when it came ashore at East Cape, and it proved to be from Captain Ashby, 260 miles out, wishing Auckland farewell and telling of the sufferings of the passengers from mal de mer during heavy weather.

Captain Ashby was succeeded by Captain Ralls as commander of the "City." Captain Ralls made five successful voyages to New Zealand in her, and on the sixth he was wrecked on Otaki Beach, the "City" becoming a total loss, as I shall explain later on.

The Ship Among The Ice.

A 6500-Mile Race.

A thrilling tale of a voyage made by the City of Auckland from Auckland to London in 1877 is told by Captain Albert Duder, who for a long while was Harbourmaster in Auckland, and is now enjoying well-earned leisure over at Devonport. None of the stories that I have heard about the "City" are so absorbingly interesting as that told by Captain Duder, who at the time the voyage in question was made, was a young man before the mast, just beginning his career. Captain Ralls was in command, and Captain Duder has the liveliest admiration for his old skipper. "Captain Ralls was a fine specimen of a British seaman," writes Captain Duder, "perfect in seamanship and in the art of commanding a sailing ship. Well it was that he was all that, and more, or our voyage would not have ended as auspiciously as it did."

"The City," loaded with wool, kauri gum, etc., was a full ship and in good ocean-going trim, when she left Auckland in the beginning of February, 1877. The first three weeks passed pleasantly away. One afternoon at two o'clock, when about 1200 miles west-north-west of Cape Horn the ship ran into a fairly thick fog, and at 2.45 the look-out man reported ice right ahead—a small berg forty to fifty feet high. "Luff, luff!" was the order yelled to the helmsman, and then came "All hands on deck!" Answering her helm immediately the little ship came up into the wind and cleared the weather end of the berg, but still was well into the small or broken ice which clattered along the side. The watch below turned out in good style and were at once ordered to take in royals and all light staysails, outer jib and crossjack, while the watch on deck was hard at it, trimming yards. And the stewards, cooks, and the few men passengers, under the chief steward were put on to provision and water the boats.

Then, "Ice on the lee bow!" reported the lookout, and what seemed like a mountain of it rose up right alongside, the crevices being filled with frozen snow—a beautiful, but awful sight.

"Hard down the helm!" and like a yacht the ship went round on the other tack. Every man, stripped to singlet and trousers, was working for dear life. The captain stood by the man at the wheel, the chief officer with the look-out man on the fo'c'sle-head, and every man keen at his post.

Once more ice was reported, this time on the weather bow. "Hard up the helm!" was the order this time, and then "Square the yards!" and the ship paying off ran away from a small berg fifty to seventy feet high, with broken and small ice all around.

There was a few minutes breathing space, and then ice was reported on port and starboard bows, but fortunately it was not so close as to prevent the ship getting through. And thus the ship went on; now ice ahead, then to port and then to starboard, and always the yacht-like craft obeyed every order as though she were alive. Captain Ralls, quick in decision, rapped out his orders promptly, always right; and every man of the crew was quick to jump at the word of command, every ounce of strength and seamanship being thrown into the work.

At about 5.30 p.m. the fog lightened and soon the ship ran out of it into clear sky with no ice in sight. The large cluster of bergs and broken ice, together with the warmer water, had caused the fog through which the ship had been passing, and once beyond their influence the atmosphere grew clear. As Captain Duder says, "There must have been three little birds sitting aloft on our trucks that afternoon, looking after 'the City' and the lives of her crew."

"Make all sail!" was soon the order, and after that came "grog-oh," every man polishing off his half-tumbler of good old Jamaica rum. Then there was a word of praise and thanks from the captain to all hands for the way they had worked, followed by "Tea-oh" for all but the officer of the watch, and a couple of A.B.'s to keep the wheel and look-out.

Other ships on the run to Cape Horn that summer saw more ice than the City of Auckland did, and two—a Loch line vessel loaded with wheat from Melbourne, and one of Patrick Henderson's ships from Timaru—were never heard of again, having, it was assumed, collided with ice and foundered. Had it been night time when the City of Auckland got among the ice she would no doubt have joined the ranks of the "missing."

After that battle with the bergs the City of Auckland had an average autumn passage to the Horn, off which she came across the ship Timaru (Captain Taylor) 28 days out from Dunedin. The signal flags were soon speaking and before they parted they arranged a 6500 miles race to London—a notion that was right into Captain Taylor's hands, as his ship had a great reputation and he was a noted hard-driver. Next night at about half past nine the City was due to pass, on the weather bow, a small cluster of rocky islets about fifty miles south-east of Staten Island, and the look-out man was told to keep a good look-out to windward.

At ten o'clock the cook and one of the passengers were having a smoke and a yarn in the lee waist, and the passenger remarked that there was land right ahead. "No," said the cook, "that's a cloud," and went on with his yarn. But on looking again they both agreed it was land and just on the lee bow, and the cook ran aft calling the attention of the mate, who at once ordered the helmsman to luff and shouted for a hand to jump aloft and report. Captain Duder was handy to the forerigging and was soon on the lower topsail yard. Plain enough below was a long line of breakers on a reef running out to windward of the group The yards were braced sharp up, and the smart little ship sailing a couple of points more into the wind cleared the end of the reef and breakers by about two hundred and fifty yards! The ship had been carried in towards the mainland by an unknown ocean current and she was eight or nine miles off her course from noon that day.

When the ship had passed the Falkland Islands and left behind the worst of the stormy latitudes, orders were given to bend extra sails—main middle staysail, mizzen topgallant staysail, a second flying jib (over the lower flying jib), the jib-topsail, and a "Jimmy Green," or "bull-driver," as it was sometimes called—a square sail fitted and rigged to set under the jib-boom and bowsprit. One seldom passed a ship with a "Jimmy Green" set, says Captain Duder, but it was quite a helpful sail in moderate weather, and as we intended to give the Timaru a run for it, we wanted all the sail we could set. Day and night it was a case of trim yards and set sail, swig and set still better, and crack on until the ship was lee-rail under.

A Glorious Night.

With the exception of a pampero (so called from the pampas of Argentine, over which it blows) that compelled the ship to heave-to for 24 hours when off the River Plate, she met with moderate and favourable weather that carried her into the south-east trade winds, which, however, were light, and not so steady as they usually are in those latitudes. "On the northern edge of the trade wind," writes Captain Duder, describing a wonderful experience the ship had, "we passed through a belt of the ocean about 50 miles wide that was like molten silver. Every star in the sky was shining bright and clear, the sea was densely full of every kind of tropical sea animalculae, which caused the water to sparkle like myriads of brilliants. The scene was wonderful and beautiful, but withal so weird that it created a most uncanny feeling. Even our steel-nerved captain felt the influence, and he ordered all light sails to be taken and furled.

"While I and two other seamen were out stowing the jib-topsail and two flying jibs we saw, greatly to our astonishment, three pretty little heads bobbing up and down in the silver sea under the jib-boom. One grizzled old 'matlow' (a sailor's name for an old salt, from the French 'matelot') declared they were mermaids, and he recalled how on a similar night near the same region, he had many years before seen the same sort of thing. After all the light sails had been stowed and the watch, with their pipes lit, had made themselves comfortable on deck, the conversation turned to the wonderful and beautiful night with the added marvel of the three mermaids (so-called) under the bow. Opinions varied of course. The younger hands were very sceptical, but the old ones had no doubt whatever that the heads we had seen were the real thing.

"Seamen following their trade all over the world, in every latitude, in gale and calm, in varied climes, see many beautiful and magnificent sights, but that entrancing night of forty-five years ago was easily the most rare, the most beautiful and awe-inspiring I have ever experienced, or ever hope to experience."

When the ship picked up the north-east trade wind she found it very strong, at times amounting to a moderate or a fresh gale, which lasted to the 30th north latitude. All plain sail was set and hung on to, a number of them being blown away, but always replaced by others, night or day. At times the ship drove bows under, and one afternoon one heavy sea rolled so high that the belly of the maintopmast staysail was torn right out of the sail, and the decks were swept clean of everything movable from fo'c'sle head to poop. Light, variable and squally weather was experienced in the run from the trades to the mouth of the English Chanel, a converging point for hundreds of ships from all over the world, and one of great interest to the homeward bound seamen as old friends among the craft would be recognised and furnish material for much talk about other crews and other voyages full of stirring incidents.

After passing the Western Islands the ship got favourable fresh winds for some days which carried her up to sight the Lizard Light. That night the wind came down Channel from the eastward and freshened to a very hard gale. During this time about twenty-five large ships and barques with smaller craft had got bunched, all hove-to, and down to a few of the smallest and the strongest sails. On the afternoon of the third day the wind eased, and the order came on the City of Auckland to reef and set the upper topsails.

When the men were up on the yard they saw another ship about five miles off doing exactly the same as the City of Auckland. Apparently none of the other skippers thought it prudent to make sail at that state of the weather, and these two ships soon forged away from the rest of them. Twenty-four hours later the City of Auckland was in Torbay on the port tack, the wind north-east, and the ship laying well up the Channel; everybody elated, homeward bound, Old England right alongside, and London (and pay-day) close ahead of them.

A Dead Heat.

"At about four p.m. that afternoon a large ship under full sail came standing into the bay on the starboard tack," continues Captain Duder. "We also were under full sail, slipping along close-hauled and doing about ten knots. No other vessels of any considerable size were in sight. All eyes were turned on the stranger. She was a perfect picture, with her painted ports, every sail setting faultlessly, and the ship beautifully sailed. One of our A.B.'s declared it was our friend and rival the Timaru, but the idea was hailed with derision. 'the Timaru is in London, and paid off by this time,' said the mate.

"The ships were drawing close together, and we being on the port tack had to give way to the other vessel. But our skipper was not giving way if he could help it, although he did not intend to take any unseamanlike risks, so 'Stand by the spanker and after braces!' came the order. Then soon, 'Hard up the helm!' followed by 'Brail the spanker in!' 'Square the crossjack!' 'After yards!' the City of Auckland fell away before the wind, a hundred and fifty feet to leeward of the Timaru! 'Steady the helm!' 'Set the spanker!' 'Brace up the after yards!' came the orders, and so we regained our course and stood up Channel.

"So it was the Timaru after all! Up to that moment our long 6500-mile race was a dead heat. We had taken 61 days from the Horn, and here in the Channel we were within a hundred and fifty feet of one another.

"Next morning the ships lay becalmed off Portland Bill, about a thousand feet apart. Soon the smoke of two tugs appeared, and they came straight for us, the larger one picking the bigger vessel (and the most money), and the other coming to us. Two days later both vessels hauled in to the South West Indian Dock, in London, the jibboom of The Citly over the poop of the Timaru. Thus ended our race from the Horn, and the honours were certainly with our vessel, she being much the smaller of the two.

"A comparison of the courses steered and the positions on the chart showed that the two ships were only just out of sight of each other on three occasions, and practically the same weather was experienced. We also found that they were less than two hundred and fifty miles apart during the whole of the race.

"The City's voyage from Auckland occupied ninety-five days, the Timaru's from Dunedin was eighty-nine, and she not only had the shorter distance, but she also had a more favourable run of winds."

Cast Away.

The Wreck Of The City.

The "City" had not a very long life, as she became a total wreck in 1878. In command of Captain Ralls she sailed from London for Napier and Auckland with 240 emigrants on board and a cargo of railway iron, 300 tons of which was for Napier and the balance for Auckland. There was great excitement in Auckland and Napier on October 23 when the "Auckland Star" published a message from Wellington telling that the City of Auckland had gone a shore on the Otaki Beach the night before, and as communication was not so rapid then as it is now, the fate of the ship and her large number of passengers was not known immediately. The ship went ashore at half past nine at night, and one can imagine the consternation of the emigrants. Immediately she struck the hatches were battened down by order of Captain Ralls, who was then in command, and it was decided to keep the emigrants below until some measures could be adopted for their safety. The poor people, however, became so excited and were in such a state of terror that they at last burst the hatches open and rushed on deck.

Captain Ralls at once placed a guard over the boats, and took steps to restore order among the frightened people. It was eight o'clock the following morning before a boat could be launched, and the Captain then sent a crew ashore to get assistance. The Otaki settlers lost no time in going off to the help of the people on the stranded ship.

Threatened To Shoot.

When the first boat went alongside the ship there was a rush among the emigrants to get aboard. Captain Ralls had to stand at the gangway with a loaded revolver in his hand, and his threat that he would shoot the first man that disobeyed orders was not an idle one. Captain Ralls was very well known and popular in Auckland, and his splendid behaviour after the ship went a shore was just what one would expect from such a fine sailor. Fortunately the stranded vessel gave a fair amount of shelter for the landing of the passengers, and eventually every man, woman, and child aboard was safely put ashore, the women and children getting ashore without even wetting their feet.

With the exception of the ship's doctor (Dr. Andrews) and his wife, who were taken in by Mr. and Mrs. Simcox, all the passengers were accommodated in the large Maori college that was built by Archdeacon S. Williams. I am indebted to Mrs. W. H. Simcox, now residing at Otaki, for the main details of the wreck. Mrs. Simcox, before going to Otaki with her late husband and family in the year 1878, lived and were much respected residents at the Bay of Islands. At Otaki Mr. Simcox kept a diary, and it is from this very interesting document that Mrs. Simcox quotes. Mrs. Simcox tells of the excitement the wreck caused at Otaki. Three special constables were sworn in from the Otaki residents for the purpose of looking after the unexpected accession to Otaki's small population and to supervise the providoring, plenty of good beef and potatoes being furnished by the settlers.

The Maoris were very numerous in Otaki and the surrounding district forty-four years ago, and they played an important part in helping the strangers, not only providing plenty of potatoes, but cooking them as well. Some of the young fellows who had been saved from the wreck did not seem too anxious to help in the work that was going on; they did not offer to help when the huge piles of potatoes were being peeled, for instance, so one of the bluff, good-hearted Otaki people said, "If they won't help they can have them in their skins."

When news of the wreck reached Wellington the Government steamer Hinemoa, Captain John Fairchild, was sent up to Waikanae, the most convenient spot for taking the passengers off and to that locality the shipwrecked people were conveyed in bullock drays and anything that ran on wheels—and they were not plentiful in those days. the Hinemoa took the immigrants direct to Napier, to which port they were all bound.

A few of the crew were left to dismantle the wreck, and most of the gear was salvaged. Of course there were dozens of things, such as cabin furniture, that would not pay to take away and these things were gathered by the Otaki people as souvenirs. When the ship was launched from the builders' yards in 1869 a finely carved teak scroll bearing Campbell's lines, "Her path is o'er the mountain wave, her home is on the deep"

Captain Ralls. decorated the break of the poop, and was much admired. This relic is now hanging up in the hall at Mrs. Simcox's home, and she also has the ship's poop bell, which is used to announce dinner. The fo'c's'le bell is hung in the Kiosk at Otaki Beach. Part of one of the masts of the City of Auckland may be seen on the Otaki Beach when travelling from Auckland to Wellington on the express train.

It is interesting to recall that some of the residents recently got a piece of timber that once formed part of the old ship, and out of it made a walking stick for presentation to the Rt. Hon. W. F. Massey on his birthday. Mr. Massey, it will be remembered, came out from Ireland to Auckland in the ship on her first voyage.

After the disaster, Captain Fairchild, of the Government steamer Hinemoa, strongly urged that a light should be placed on Kapiti Island, and in doing so said that a dozen vessels a year mistook Kapiti for Stephen's Island in the Cook Straits. "It is reckoned," he observed, "that on the Hyderabad, the Felixstowe, and the City of Auckland, all lost in the neighbourhood within the last three months, there has been over £110,000 insurance."

Mr. and Mrs. H. Ralls, of Ellerslie, are related to Captain Ralls, Mr. Ralls being a nephew of the Captain. During 1922 Mr. Ralls visited the old gentleman at his home at Sandford, on the Thames, near Oxford. The captain, who was a great favourite with his passengers and those he met a shore, has named his beautiful home "Auckland." He is able to get about and enjoy himself, though he is in his eighty-sixth year. During the year over which his five trips to New Zealand stretched there were forty births on board. On three occasions Mrs. Ralls accompanied her husband, and three of their children were born on board. At that time there were no doctors on board, so the worthy captain officiated at all these ceremonies on board his ship. One of his "babies," as it pleases him to call them, is Miss Hills, daughter of Mr. A. Hills, of Manurewa. As evidence of the way Captain Ralls was loved and respected, the inside of his Sandford home is full of curios and mementos presented to him and his wife. Other relatives of Captain Ralls, Mr. and Mrs. E. S. Ralls, are residing at Takapuna, Auckland.

The following gives the record of passages made from London by the City of Auckland:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days Oct. 22, '69 Jan. 28, '70 Ashby 97 Sept. 14 Dec. 11, '70 Ashby 86 From Channel 81 Sept. 10 Dec. 20, 71 Ashby 96 May 31 Sep. 3, '72 Ashby 95 June 5 Sep. 14, '73 Ralls 99 May 19 Sep. 2, '74 Ralls 105 June 15 Sep. 29, '75 Ralls 104 Aug. 6 Nov. 11, 76 Ralls 96 July 8 Oct. 10, '77 Ralls 90

During the voyage in 1872 Mrs. R. Milne fell overboard and was drowned.

Shaw, Savill And Albion Company.

A Famous Colonial Fleet—Tonnage totals over 200,000.

One of the romances of the colonial shipping trade is the rise of that powerful company the Shaw, Savill and Albion which now sends to New Zealand some of the finest steamers afloat, and there are many people in New Zealand to-day that remember when the whole fleet did not amount in tonnage to anything like one single steamer of the splendid passenger fleet the company now employs in the trade. The company has consistently kept up its connection with New Zealand, and its history is specially interesting from the fact that the company pioneered in the industry that practically made the Dominion—the frozen meat industry. It was this company that fitted up the first sailing vessel—away back in 1882—with refrigerating machinery and successfully inaugurated the industry that has since grown to such vast dimensions. This first cargo was carried for the N.Z. and Australian Land Co., which started the industry in New Zealand as far as the shore part of it was concerned.

Up to about 1858 most of the sailing ships that were dispatched from the Old Country to New Zealand were run by Willis Gann and Co., the Black Ball Line, the White Star Co., and other private firms. In the office of Willis Gann and Co. there was a young shipping clerk named Saville—the "e" has since been dropped—who must have had grit or wonderful foresight, for he threw up his billet and decided to go into the shipping business in partnership with a Mr. Shaw, who it is believed was also a former employee of Willis Gann and Co. The firm was known as the Shaw, Saville Company, and in 1859 set about chartering vessels for the New Zealand trade.

It must be confessed that many of the ships that flew the house flag of the new firm were anything but clippers, in fact more than one early New Zealander would remember them as "old tubs." Many of them were out of date, had very poor accommodation and were painfully slow. But the company has more than made amends for its early shortcomings. Some of the first charterings of the firm were the Wyndham, Ocean Home, Vicuna, Albert William, General, Bombay, Helenslee, Edwin Fox, Bebington, and Mallard.

Immigrant Trade.

In the year 1863 Messrs. Shaw, Savill secured the contract for carrying emigrants to Otago, the fares being £12 from Glasgow and £13 10/ from London. Thousands of heads of New Zealand families came out in the old ships, and it is probably safe to say that among those splendid Scots families that now people Otago there are very few that do not trace back to a Shaw, Savill passage.

The year 1883 was an important one in the history of the firm, for in that year it amalgamated with the old-established Clyde Shipping House, Patrick Henderson's Albion Shipping Company, which brought in a list of really fine ships, and in the interim the Shaw, Savill people had built several first-class ships up-to-date in every way, such as the Westland and the Crusader, two noted passage-makers, so that the new combination had a very fine fleet indeed.

When steam ousted sail the Shaw, Savill and Albion Company, as the new firm was called, was prominent in the change-over, and gradually replaced its fine fleet of sailers with steamers. One of the first was the chartered steamer, Triumph, which arrived in Auckland on November 26, 1883, and was afterwards wrecked on Tiritiri when leaving port. It will be remembered that she was got off, and towed to Auckland, and repaired in the old Graving Dock which was too small for her so that a special caisson had to be built, and even then a good deal of the vessel's stern was protruding from the dock.

Fine Craft.

After the Triumph the company had the Doric, Ionic and Coptic, Victory, and Bombay, the two latter being chartered steamers, and built the Tainui, Arawa, Gothic, Mamari, Matatua, Rangatira, Maori, Pakeha, Aotea, Tokomaru, and other steamers. To-day the Company has a magnificent fleet of seventeen well-found modern steamers ranging from the 12,068 tonner Mahana, while the smallest in the fleet is a 7000 tonner which is a good deal more than the whole tonnage with which this famous line originally started. These seventeen steamers have an aggregate ton-nagetonnage of 163,311 to which must be added the four White Star boats that are run under the Company's house flag in these waters, and these bring the tonnage of the fleet up to 212,172. The passenger steamers of the Company are to-day the Arawa, Athenic, Corinthic, Ionic, and Tainui, and the cargo steamers the Mahia, Tairoa, Karamea, Kia Ora, Kumara, Mahana, Maimoa, Mamari, Matakana, Matatua, Otira, Pakeha, Raranga, Waimana, Waiwera, and Zealandic.

The New Zealand head office of the Company is in Wellington where Mr. James Findlay is stationed as Australasian representative with Mr. E. V. Bevan, assistant manager, and Captain T. H. Chudley, Marine Superintendent. The Marine Superintendents are: South Island, Captain A. J. Charman, and Auckland District, Captain R. S. Lewis. In addition the Company is represented at the various ports by very efficient agents.

Starting with the famous Westland, I now propose to give something about the vessels owned by or chartered by the Shaw Savill Company and by the Patrick Henderson's Company, that were engaged in the New Zealand trade.

The Westland.

Holds Record from London to Dunedin.

None of the Shaw, Savill and Albion Company's fleet of sailing vessels has a better record than the Westland, a full-rigged ship of 1116 tons, which for some years attracted world-wide attention among shipmasters on the Pacific and Atlantic. Built by Duncan, she was one of the last ships ordered for the Shaw, Savill Company.

In 1888, in command of Captain Scotland, the Westland reached Dunedin in 72 days, or 66 days land to land. The "Otago Daily Times" referring to the ship's arrival, said: "Her advent was unexpected, the vessel not being due for at least another week. Captain Scotland was heartily congratulated upon having made the shortest passage of any sailing vessel. the Westland left London on the evening of April 13, and carried moderate S.W. winds down Channel, taking her final departure from Ushant on April 18. With moderate westerly winds across the Bay of Biscay, she passed the Canary Islands on the 24th; on the 26th she took the first of the N.E. trades, which were fairly good. They gave out on May 4, and were followed by variable winds for two days, when she picked up the S.E. trades and crossed the Equator on May 7, only 18 days from Ushant. The S.E. trades carried the ship down to 20 deg. S. long., 31 deg W. on May 14, when they were succeeded by N. and N.W. winds. The meridian of Greenwich was crossed on May 24. Still keeping fresh N.W. winds, she rounded the Cape of Good Hope four days later in latitude 45 deg. S., thence across the Southern Ocean she had N.W. and N. winds, accompanied with heavy seas. She passed the meridian of Cape Leeuwin in 57 deg. S.; then followed a succession of variable winds until reaching the island of Tasmania on June 20. Light easterly winds followed for two days, when N.W. and W. winds carried the ship to the Snares, which were passed on June 24. Still keeping similar winds, she passed the Nuggets on June 25—19 hours from the Snares. Light winds followed until off Cape Saunders, when the ship took a fresh breeze, which brought her to port on the morning of June 25. Her Easting was run down or a parallel of latitude 50 deg. S. No ice was seen.

Another Rapid Passage.

The following year (1889) the Westland, still in command of Captain Scotland, made another remarkable run to Port Chalmers of 77 days anchor to anchor, or 72 from the day she landed the Channel pilot. Captain Scotland stated this passage would have been shortened but for the fact that for the last five days she had to contend with thick, dirty weather, owing to which no observations could be taken, and she came on by dead reckoning, making Cape Saunders her first landfall. "On the arrival of the ship at Port Chalmers," says the "Otago Daily Times," "Captain Scotland was not only congratulated on the splendid run, but for the record voyage from New Zealand (including detentions), and back to Port Chalmers, in the short space of six months and twenty-three days, she having left Lyttelton with a full cargo of wheat on August 14, 1888, called at Falmouth for orders on November 6. and after lying there for six days, was ordered on to London. Having discharged her cargo, she took on board 600 tons of cement, which was landed at Glasgow, and then loaded 1800 tons of general cargo."

The Run Out.

On this occasion the Westland left Glasgow on December 21, and the Tail of the Bank on the evening of the 22nd. Owing to adverse winds she beat about between the Clyde and Wexford for five days, the pilot leaving on the 27th December. Strong westerly gales were encountered until the 29th, when the wind hauled to N.W. and W. On January 6th she took the N.E. Trades, which continued fresh, but gave out on the 12th. Thence light variable winds followed until crossing the Equator on January 14th. The S.E. Trades

The Speedy Westland. were met with on January 16 in latitude 2 deg. S., and these proved good until reaching lat. 20 deg. S., when light easterly winds followed until down to 34 deg. S. On January 30, after a few days of variable winds, she took the first of the westerlies crossing the meridian of Greenwich on February 6th in latitude 44 deg. S. She then had fresh N.W. to S.W. winds, and rounded the Cape four days later. Still keeping fresh westerly winds, the vessel averaged 240 miles a day until reaching longitude 70 deg. E., when she met an easterly breeze for three days. The wind again hauled to the west, and the meridian of Cape Leeuwin was crossed on February 27th and Tasmania on March 3rd, in latitude 50 deg. S. From this date not a glimpse of the sun was seen until Cape Saunders was sighted at 7.30 a.m. on March 9th.

A Record Round Voyage.

In 1894 the Westland, in command of Captain Kelly, made the passage from Start Point to the Solanders in 85 days. Her best day's run was 342 miles, and she made several runs of 330 and 340 miles a day. After discharging she proceeded from Dunedin to the Bluff, where she waited for six months for wool. Then without dry docking she made the voyage to London in 72 days, covering the distance from Bluff to Cape Horn in 16 days 8 hours. When she was 39 days out she crossed the Equator in the Atlantic and reported at the Lizard Lighthouse, in the English Channel, on the morning of the sixty-eighth day. Her biggest day's run was 326 miles. For nine days the Westland was becalmed in the Tropics after crossing the Equator.

Beat Them All.

On this particular voyage, which was in the wool season, the Westland was the last of the fleet of 20 sailing ships to leave New Zealand; yet she arrived Home 22 days before any of the others. She cleared the Bluff one hour after the Wairoa, a full-rigged ship, and had discharged and was loaded again at London before the Wairoa put in an appearance. In fact, this latter vessel, which made the voyage in the respectable time of 91 days, was only just arriving as the Westland was being towed out of the dock.

On the arrival of the Westland at Wellington in 1881 she was placed in quarantine owing to the presence of smallpox. During the voyage, on 6th October, a squall struck the ship, carry-ingcarrying away several yards and throwing two sailors who were making fast the yard royal into the sea. Both were drowned. On the 18th of the same month an apprentice fell from aloft into the sea. A boat was lowered, but he was not seen again.

The voyage of the Westland to Wellington in 1895 was remarkable for the tempestuous weather encountered at the meridian of the Cape. A terrific hurricane from the north-west was met with. The ship was hove-to for 16 hours, during which time the main lower topsail burst and the foretopmast staysail was split into ribbons. Mountainous seas swept over the forepart of the vessel, carrying away the whisker, the flying jib, the boom, and the forecastle rail, starting the forecastle deck, and doing other damage. The ship was squared and the foresail set, but again fearful seas broke aboard, sweeping the deck from stem to stern, carrying away two of the forward boats and everything movable on deck. The heavy seas started bolts, split skids, and smashed the forecastle doors and ladders. The compass stands and binnacle were also injured.

In the passage made in 1893 Captain Kelly reported that the long voyage of 119 days was due to a series of gales at the outset, during which sails were blown away and all deck fittings damaged. The ship put back to Lamlash Bay for repairs, and was detained there 16 days. Very heavy gales were also met with in the Southern Ocean.

On September 8th, 1900, when the Westland was bound for Wellington, Captain Kelly died at sea, and the ship was brought on by the chief officer, Mr. Samuel. Captain Kelly had been seven years in the Westland and 25 years in the service of the Shaw, Savill and Albion Company.

In 1885, when bound to Dunedin, in command of Captain McWilliams, the Westland ran from the Cape of Good Hope to Shag Point in 16 days.

the Westland is also credited with having on another occasion made the passage from Wellington to London in 71 days.

Captain White, a partner in the firm of Nearing and Co., now carrying on business in Auckland, who was for 12 years at sea in sailing vessels, was second officer and first mate on the Westland during many of her fast runs; and Captain Fox, also a partner with Captain White in the same firm, was apprenticed on the Westland, and later rose to be second and chief officer of the ship. Captain white states that the Westland, under the command of Captain Kelly, ran from Wellington to Astoria, Oregon, in 44 days, thence with a cargo of salmon to Liverpool in 79 days round Cape Horn.

To Wellington. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Oct. 31, '81 Moffatt 87 June 11 Sep. 17, '95 Kelly 96 June 11 Sep. 24, '96 Kelly 105 Nov. 6; '98 Feb. 1, '99 Kelly 86 Aug. 17 Nov. 29, '00 Samuel 103 To Nelson. Nov. 6 Feb. 16, '05 Samuel 102 Sep. 6 Dec. 19, '05 James 104 Aug. 4 Nov. 11, '06 James 99 To Lyttelton. Nov. 27, '79 Feb. 23, '80 Wood 88 Dec. 25, '90 Mar. 22, '91 Metters 86 To Port Chalmers. Jan. 30 Apr. 21, '79 Wood 80 Dec. 23, '80 Mar. 25, '81 Moffatt 92 Nov. 2, '81 Feb. 7, '82 Moffatt 96 Oct. 14, '82 Jan. 1, '83 Moffatt 79 Land to land 74 Aug. 30 Nov. 23, '84 McWilliams 84 Land to land 78 Sep. 4 Dec. 8, '85 McWilliams 94 June 5 Sep. 11, '86 McWilliams 96 July 1 Sep. 22, '87 Scotland 83 Land to land 79 Apr. 13 June 25, '88 Scotland 72 Land to land 66 Dec. 21, '88 Mar. 9, '89 Scotland 77 Land to land 72 Feb. 25 May 19, '90 Metters 83 Oct. 30, '91 Jan. 25, '92 Metters 85 Jan. 27 May 27, '93 Kelly 119 Apr. 9 July 8, '94 Kelly 90 Land to land 85 To Bluff. Oct. 4, '99 Jan. 4, '900 Kelly 82

Stories Of The Auckland.

A Smart Shaw-Savill Ship—Some Good Sailing—Rough Passage to Auckland—Battered by Gales—Strenuous Sailorising.

A noted ship of the Shaw-Savill and Albion Fleet was the Auckland, which, however, must not be confused with the ship City of Auckland. There is at present living in Auckland Mr. H. N. Burgess, who was an apprentice on the Auckland, and afterwards was an officer with the company. At my request he has written a very interesting account of some of the "voyages of the Auckland, and particularly of one memorable tempestuous passage she made from London to Auckland, arriving at the latter port on September 15, 1889.

the Auckland was one of the fastest and smartest ships afloat of her day, writes Mr. Burgess. She was built at Robert. Duncan's yard in '74; was still classed 100 Al at Lloyd's till wrecked a few years ago. She was built and equipped with the best of everything procurable, and on lines of perfect symmetry a "thing of beauty and joy" to the heart of any sailorman. During the time I was in her (with one exception) we were never passed by any sailing vessel afloat, and by only one or two steamers. On the other hand, we showed everything we came across, including some of the most noted "cracks" of the day, that we could easily outsail them on any point of sailing, or with any strength of wind. the Auckland made some of the fastest 24-hour runs and weekly runs on record, but never had the "luck" in winds to make any record passages. The time we were passed was during my first voyage. The ship was a "home" that trip; old Captain Mordue was in command of her; he was one of those fine old English "gentlemen of the sea," and he thought more of the comfort of his passengers and crew than making passages. Still we made a very fair passage of 76 days to Melbourne.

The Dreaded Cape Horn.

Homeward bound, we made a fair run to the Horn, and the day (a Sunday) we were off that dreaded spot we nearly took a trip to "Davy Jones." We had been shortening sail in a very light three or four knot breeze all the morning, the hands growling (naturally, as Sunday was always a day of absolute rest and feasting in that ship). However the "Old Man" had been too long at sea not to be able to read the weather; it was a clear sky, no clouds, but a sort of white haze all over. At six bells in the forenoon watch all hands were called to take in the topsails and courses (the cro'jack was stowed), the mainsail clewed up, and the foresail (a brand new heavy wire-roped sail bent leaving Melbourne) was still set, also the mizzen lower topsail, fore and main upper topsails, and foretopmast staysail. At about seven bells we were all about the decks just starting to get down the fore and main upper topsails, when, without any warning, a "white squall" (clear atmosphere, no rain or cloud) hit us like a blast from a gun.

Perilous Plight.

Over she went, and still over, wind right abeam, put up the helm to ease her away, but she was too "flat" to answer it; tried to "luff," but with that good foresail and staysail holding her head off, she would not come up either, but just laid down and "kicked." The second mate let go the lee main lower topsail sheet (chain about ⅝in, and there would have been at least 80ft. to 100ft. of it). In a second or so this had unrove itself right out of the sheave at the yardarm, and was whipping round the deck smashing everything it hit till the sail went to pieces. This eased her a little, but a second blast came down, and the grain cargo being loose in part below, must have shifted a bit. She was absolutely on her beam ends, and the only thing we could do was to try and crawl over the weather side as she "went over," when suddenly there was a thunderous report and away went the foresail, only just in the nick of time; and it is safe to say the ship and all hands were saved by an "O.S.," who, by the way, was a very sleepy sort of chap and everlastingly in his bunk when he should have been on deck. I don't think he broke his rule on this occasion, but the lurch evidently threw him out of his "pew" into the water (his berth was at the fore-end of house) right opposite the foresheet and he did the right thing on the spur of the moment and put his sheath knife through the fore sheet (new 6in manila rope) beforehe came to the surface. The sail went to "tow" absolutely, in a few seconds, and the old packet once more "came up to breathe." She gradually righted enough to feel the helm a bit, but as we brought her up to the wind it hauled aft, keeping sails full and not giving us a chance to right ourselves. However, after a bit we got control of her, and before very long had her head before it with nothing but the fore lower topsail, most of the other rags having gone "aloft." But the clearing up! No one could imagine that such a tangle could happen in such a short space of time. Practically all the "running gear" seemed to be adrift, hopelessly tangled up over the side, through the ports, out of the scuppers, and all mixed up outside. We had to cut quite half of it away, but we got things fairly snug before dark, and

the Auckland Under Full Sail. in a few days had her back in her old trim except for a "list to starboard," which made her very "tender" always on the port tack. From this we had a good run home.

"The Yacht Of The Fleet."

But the next voyage we saw some real sailing and learned what sort of a ship we had under us. Our fine old skipper retired from the sea, and Captain James was given command. He was told at the office that they had given him the "Yacht" of the fleet, and expected him to break all records with her. He certainly did his best, but never had the luck in "winds" to make a real record. He was as fine a sailorman as ever commanded a ship.

When we got down to the "doldrums" we picked up the Aristides, reckoned the "crack" ship of the Aberdeen White Star Fleet. We kept company with her for nearly a fortnight; generally picked her up ahead and always beat her on every point of sailing, and with every weight of wind, when the wind held good for an hour or so. Eventually we lost the run of her, but about two days later picked up the S.E. Trades strong and squally, well south of the Line one afternoon, and before dusk we sighted a sail dead ahead. At one bell in the first watch (11.45) we were abreast of her. We hove the log as usual at that time, and although marked up to 14 knots it ran out well before the sand. The "old girl," we reckoned, was doing little short of 16 "on a bowline."

We struck eight bells (midnight) as we passed her, about a quarter of a mile to windward. All hands, and passengers too, on both ships were on deck (although a lovely squall necessitating the lowering of our "kites" came down just as we passed her) cheering and burning blue lights and "company candles," and we yelled out that we would report them all well when we got to Melbourne. It was a sight not easily forgotten, and we must have been doing two or three knots faster than she was. She was just in sight astern at daybreak from the masthead. When we got up to Melbourne we found our rival in the berth ahead of us. She beat us by about four days in the whole passage; proving that it is not necessarily the fastest ship that makes thesmartest passage. That passage we got in over the "Rip" with a fairly low tide. The wind being ahead, and no tug in sight, we decided to beat her up. It takes doing in a "square-rigger," and the ship that does it is no slouch. We had about an 8-knot breeze, and I can tell you it was exciting sometimes. Some of our "boards" were so short we had not time to haul taut the weather braces or coil down before she had to go round again. But our "Old Man" could handle a ship and we never missed stays once.

A Stormy Voyage.

The next voyage we sailed for Auckland from Sharpness with a cargo of salt. the Auckland was well trimmed and when we got out in the salt water we had the whole disc of the Plimsol mark showing, and about 4 inches below it, making a good 10 inches of freeboard to the good. Very different to the sight we appeared when alongside Firth's new wharf at Auckland, when the old rusty hull looked like a submarine with Plimsol mark out of sight below water. We had sunk almost 2ft below the lovely water-line we had left home with.

As we began to run our easting down the weather came on worse, and the ship getting deeper every day got wetter and wetter, the water getting in to the cargo through a broken skylight. The deeper she got, the faster she seemed to sail. We had a marvellous fortnight's run, doing over 300 miles a day for about eight days out of that fortnight. If we had had as good winds during the first part of the passage as we had afterwards we must have broken all records. We had a continuous N.W. to S.W. gale for six or eight weeks with hardly a "let up" for an hour or so, and a hurricane or so by way of a "diversion." We never knew what it was to have a dry bunk, or dry clothes for nearly two months, and often were without any hot meals.

One night and morning I think none of us can ever forget. We were running very heavy with a breeze on port quarter, black as pitch, the glass very low and jumping about like a cat on hot bricks. Plenty of little "blue devils" ("will o' the wisp") were running up and down the "lifts and stays" and the wind was very "fluky." Every now and again an enormous sea would work up from some quarter different to where the wind was blowing, and when these came aboard they just "walked" right over everything and smashed up things pretty thoroughly. I was going aft with a big bottle of cocoa for the mate and myself, and had just got to the companion on the poop, when I saw what looked like an enormous black island towering above us aft with what looked like an iceberg on top of it, or a break in the sky. I yelled "Look out" and ducked for the companion.

The "island" (of water with a crest on it) just walked clean over us from one end to the other, and I found myself swimming down the cabin. The lamps went out as the skylight stove in. The skipper and his wife and steward came out of their bunks, and with the "deadness" of the ship under that weight of water, we all thought the end had come, but when the water stopped pouring down the hatch we managed to get up on deck and found we were still afloat. The man had been washed away from the wheel. We called some hands aft and got her under control and then hunted around to see what damage was done. We found that the sheep pen and its contents had gone, also the two quarter boats, break of poop and forecabin skylight stove in, about half the top bulwarks, and all the aft end of the house washed away—ropes and gear over and through the ports, etc. By the time we had done our inspections between dodging seas it was breaking dawn, and what a sight as the awful darkness gave place to grey half-light!

Out Of Control.

The wind was veering "all round the compass" and finally it dropped to a calm. That awful boiling sea none of us can ever forget. No wind, yet enormous seas rolling up from all quarters, and just sweeping clean over us. We were absolutely out of control. Somehow we kept afloat, and after what seemed to us some hours, during which time we were mostly in the mizzen shrouds, and the seas breaking up our "upper works," we spotted a sort of break in the sky. Luckily we had only a few "rags" aloft, and nothing on the mizzen, and when the wind came down with a roar it happened to get us on the right side of our sails. As she laid down to it, she once more gathered way and came under control and paid off before it. It is just marvellous what a good ship will stand if properly handled. It was blowing a full hurricane in a few minutes, and we were running away N. and E. into a terrible confused sea, which just swept over us from all quarters. We had come through a cyclone and pretty near the centre, or vortex, of it too. We lost the rest of our boats, two on davits aft, and twoon skids for'ard. Most of the house (except framework) was gone, pig pens, upper bulwarks, some ports and stanchions, etc., also strained our lower bulwarks. And one thing which one could hardly credit, the iron stanchions and railing round the poop, a solid structure, but with nothing you would think the water could get a grip of, was torn from the deck, and mostly went overboard. But how the "old girl" did sail. It was a common occurrence for our log marked to 14 knots to run out well before the sand. However you can't stay in the same place all the time in that weather, and we found ourselves eventually off the Three Kings.

Captain James.

The wind dropped and the sun came out. It was early September. We got all our sodden belongings out and dried them. And what a night we had—dry (to our sodden minds) bunks and dry clothes. What a glorious life the sea was in those days. Our troubles over, and real land close handy, a thing we had not had much hopes of seeing for some time past. Light and variable winds drifted us down the coast and eventually the old Awhina was plucking us round the North Head after a trip of ninety-one days. We lay alongside the new Firth's wharf (and were I believe the first big ship alongside that wharf), and discharged part of our salt.

Later we sailed for Dunedin, and after discharging the balance of our salt we sailed for Lyttelton, where we loaded for London. During this time we got very friendly with the crew of the Marlborough, lying just astern of us, and the 1300-ton barque Kylemore, lying just astern of her. As we were all to sail about the same time, and also the Dunedin from Port Chalmers, the four sporting skippers had, we understood, a £50 sweep on the race to London, and we boys also had our little sweep too. There was great excitement when we towed out, and were dropped by the tug well clear of the land in a light air and fog. That same day, a few hours later, we heard the cheering as the tug dropped the Kylemore quite near us apparently, although in the fog we could not see her. (the Marlborough and Dunedin sailed shortly after, and were never heard of again; it was thought they had met ice, but although we met three large bergs on the outward passage we never saw any signs of ice homeward bound or heard of other ships reporting ice on the homeward run).

The Race Home.

Nor did we see any more signs of the Kylemore till about a week later, when we sighted a vessel one morning dead ahead. As we closed up on her (guessing it was one of our three rivals) we found it was the Kylemore. We both had a good breeze on port quarter. After we had exchanged signals she started to pile on canvas, and rigged up a couple of "jury" stunsails for'ard. But it was no good. We passed her within hailing distance soon after noon and she was nearly out of sight astern at dusk. Again the day we rounded the Horn, we picked up a vessel ahead in the afternoon, moderate gale right aft (our worst sailing point), passed her (the Kylemore of course) at dusk and signalled our names and "best wishes" etc. by Morse lamp. Picked her up again off Falklands, and soon passed her and lost sight of her astern. Lost the run of her then till in the lights and variables. Sighted her several times afterwards, and passed her easily each time. Picked her up again amongst a lot of other vessels between the end of the N.E. trades and western islands, where there was quite a collection of wool clippers from the colonies that had got up into that spot and could not get out of it, as it had been blowing north-east and east for weeks there.

It was great to see the way we would "claw" up on some vessel on one tackand cross astern of her when she went about, and on the next tack (we all seemed to make two or four hour tacks) cross her bows well ahead, and leave her astern and pick up another. We passed several of the noted Australian wool clippers that time, and eventually worked right through the whole "fleet," and picking up a lovely westerly got all the "rags" on we could spread. We held this wind and did not waste an ounce of it till about 300-400 miles off the Lizard, when we picked up a tug, but the weather turned very bad, and finally we got an ultimatum from the tug either to anchor somewhere for her to coal or she had to go on half steam to last out.

Our "Old Man" thought if we once got anchored she might leave us

the Auckland Loading Wool At Wellington. too long, and one of our rivals pass us, so we kept on, and on rounding the "Nore" sighted a big vessel towing up astern. In a short time the William Joliffe, a big, powerful Liverpool tug, passed close to us with that infernal pest of a Kylemore in tow, and although our old tug skipper did his best she beat us by half a tide. She got into the basin and we missed the tide. You may bet we had a real "wake" when we got alongside, and met our rivals.

Running our easting down one time we passed one of the Shipping Company's steamers (I think it was the Ruahine). Strong breeze on our quarter, everything set that would draw, and moderate sea—we must have been doing about a knot faster than she was. Another time running down to the Horn at daybreak we saw a steamer astern; gale of wind nearly dead aft. The steamer turned out to be the Rimutaka or Aorangi, or one of those boats, steaming well, and all sail set that would draw. Those ships used to carry a good press of canvas in those days. Anyhow, she did not pass us till late in the afternoon, and had the wind been a little more "out" I believe we would have lost her. We also passed one of the old "Ducal" liners that trip, and they used to carry a fair amount of sail too, although only square rigged on fore and main. We had a good breeze on quarter, and must have been doing at least two knots faster than she was. I also remember giving one of the big Australian fourmast painted port ships a good licking off the River Plate, homeward bound. I forget her name, but I believe it was either the Loch Torridorn or the Hahnimann (both of which I remember passing some time). This was on a wind with yards just "checked" in a bit, and a moderate breeze.

Mr. W. J. Penn, editor of the Taranaki "Herald," has sent me the following amusing incident which occurred when he was a passenger by the ship Auckland from London to Wellington. Mr. Penn writes: It was early in November, 1881, we sighted another full-rigged ship, and when we wereclose enough for identification it was found to be the Dunedin, whose captain was commodore of the Shaw-Savill fleet. He signalled to our captain, MacDougall, who died a few years ago in Christchurch, to close up within hailing distance. Our course was slightly altered, but it was soon evident that we were too fast for the Dunedin, so our "old man" shortened sail a little and ordered his steward (one Ball) to bring him a cup of coffee on to the poop deck, where he sat and smoked a cigar, apparently enjoying immensely the fact that he had to shorten sail to enable the commodore to come near him. Eventually he had the main mizzen sail laid "flat-a-back"—put a brake on, in fact—and soon the Dunedin was alongside, close enough almost for a biscuit to be thrown across. After a brief conversation we put on all sail again, and next morning there was no sign of the Dunedin.

In 1893 the Auckland sailed from Dunedin to Wellington, there to load for London. On 4th March she was lying at the Railway Wharf, and had just about completed her loading of wool and flax, when dense smoke was observed pouring out of the port hole. The ship's crew fought the flames for half an hour, but the fire had now a firm hold and the fire brigade was summoned. After stubborn work the fire was subdued, but not before a considerable portion of her cargo had been saturated with water. The ship suffered very little damage, but a large portion of the cargo was damaged and discharged.

Captain Charles James was for 31 years in the employ of the Shaw, Savill and Albion Company, and was in command of their ships for over 25 years. He sailed the Auckland for twelve years, the Helen Denny for five years, the Westland for the last two voyages to the Dominion, and other ships.

The ship Auckland was wrecked during a gale, and became a total loss, on the 6th March, 1909, off Possession Island, South-West Africa. All hands were lost.

Here follow the records of the outward passages of the Auckland:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. June 16 Sep. 15, '89 James 91 To Wellington. Aug. 18 Dec. 1, '81 McDougall 105 Feb. 6 May 10, '84 McDougall 94 Oct. 1, '01 Jan. 1, '02 James 92 Sep. 26 Dec. 31, '02 James 96 To Lyttelton. Feb. 18 June 1, '86 Mordeau 103 To Dunedin. Aug. 28 Nov. 21, '74 Stevens 85 July 31 Oct. 27, '75 McDonald 88 Land to land 82 NOV. 27, '76 Feb. 15, '77 McDougall 82 Land to land 74 Oct. 1 Dec. 31, '77 McDougall 90 Sep. 14 Dec. 11, '78 McDougall 87 Sep. 26 Dec. 23, '79 McDougall 88 Oct. 12, '80 Jan. 5, '81 McDougall 85 Land to land 81 June 14 Sep. 6, '82 McDougall 84 Land to land 78 May 5 July 31, '83 McDougall 86 Mar. 14 June 12, '85 Mordue 89 June 16 Oct. 11, '89 James 117 Via Auckland. July 4 Oct. 6, '91 James 93 Aug. 13 Nov. 14, '92 James 92 Oct. 5, '93 Jan. 8, '94 James 95 Aug. 10 Nov. 8, '94 James 89 July 6 Oct. 13, '95 James 93 Aug. 11 Nov. 3, '96 James 81 Oct. 24, '98 Jan. 21, '99 James 88 Nov. 1, '99 Feb. 10, '00 James 99

the Auckland sailed from Glasgow on twelve occasions, eight from London, and three from Sharpness.

The Crusader.

A Fast Shaw, Savill Liner—Twenty-seven Voyages Out and Home—Erroneous Impressions Corrected—A Great Ocean Race—Strange Story of a Leak.

That the Crusader was one of the fastest and most consistent sailers flying the Shaw-Savill and Albion Company's flag is undoubted, but there is no foundation for the statement frequently published that she made the record passage to New Zealand. My figures are taken from the reports furnished from the log at the time of arrival, and are reliable.

Great Turn Of Speed.

the Crusader had certainly an excellent record for consistent passages made to the four chief ports of the Dominion, which averaged 91 days. The fact that between 1871 and 1897 she completed no less than 28 voyages out and Home again demonstrates that she had remarkable speed, and justifies the claim that she was one of the fastest sailers afloat at the time.

the Crusader is credited by Mr. Basil Lubbock with having made a remarkable run in 1877 from Lyttelton to the Lizard in 69 days. This statement is corroborated by several commanders of ships trading to the Southern ports at the time. On this occasion no single day's run exceeded 300 miles, and it was remarkable that the ship never once had the wind on the port side from the time she cleared New Zealand with a westerly wind until her arrival Home. the Crusader was then commanded by Captain Llewellyn.

When she first traded to New Zealand the Crusader was owned by the Peter Henderson and Albion Line, and was painted black, with a yellow streak; when this company amalgamated with the Shaw, Savill Company, she had painted ports.

Captain C. H. Renaut, who was in command of the Crusader for two voyages, previously commanded the ship Celaeno, from 1864 until 1873. Upon leaving the Crusader, he took command of the Pleione, and sailed for Wellington, arriving there on March 31, 1877, and was later appointed London manager to the Wellington Gear Meat Company, a position which has been filled by one of his sons, Mr. F. W. Renaut, after his father's death, which occurred during 1915. Mr. C. H. Renaut's father, Captain William Renaut, arrived in Dunedin as far back as 1848 in the ship Blundell. This was the first ship to enter on the Customs records at Port Chalmers, and was also the first ship that came out in connection with the Otago Settlement scheme.

Captain C. M. Renaut, another son of Captain C. H. Renaut, has an interesting record of sea service. He served for eleven years in various sailing and steam vessels belonging to the Shaw, Savill and other companies. In 1897 he entered the service of the Union S.S. Company. Later he was appointed Government surveyor of ships to the New Zealand Marine Department, and was acting in this position for several years in Auckland. Recently he was promoted to senior surveyor at Lyttelton, and prior to his departure in April, 1923, was entertained by the masters of vessels in Auckland.

An Ocean Race.

the Crusader has been credited with having made the record passage out to Port Chalmers in 65 days during 1878, when commanded by Captain Renaut.

I believe the key to the puzzle of this supposed record run to Port Chalmers has been supplied by Mr E. F. Warren, of Remuera, Auckland, who writes a most interesting account of a 65-day passage the Crusader made from Lyttelton to the English Channel. It should be explained that a passage Home from New Zealand was a very different thing from a passage to New Zealand from the Old Country, as owing to the nature of the trade winds the Homeward passages were generally done in much faster time than the outward trips. It is most probable that this 65-day voyage is the one that has misled people as to the Crusader's alleged record between London and Port Chalmers

Mr. Warren writes: "So far as my memory serves me it was in 1877 that the Crusader, the Avalanche and the Ocean Mail had a memorable ocean race Home. the Crusader went Home in 65days, land to land, and the Avalanche in 78 days. The ships left their respective ports on or about the same date, the Avalanche and Ocean Mail from Wellington on the same day, and the Crusader from Lyttelton. the Avalanche (Shaw, Savill) was in charge of Captain Williams, a very popular and able commander, and the Ocean Mail (New Zealand Shipping Company) in command of Captain Roberts. As the Avalanche and Ocean Mail proceeded down the Wellington Harbour a heavy "southerly buster" sprang up, and the Avalanche anchored off Worser Bay. the Ocean Mail put back and anchored off Soames Island. The following morning with a fair wind both ships sailed away. the Avalanche on this occasion carried about one hundred passengers.

the Crusader At Port Chalmers. Both ships were becalmed for a day off the Chatham Islands, and Captain Roberts paid a visit to the Avalanche.

A large number of fine albatrosses were sailing about the ships, and several were shot for their skins, which were presented to some ladies on the Avalanche. The sailors predicted bad luck from killing these birds, and strange to relate, Captain Roberts' boat was stove in against our ship's side, and he had to be conveyed back in one of the boats belonging to the Avalanche. A breeze coming up we parted company that evening and never sighted the Ocean Mail again, but when our pilot came aboard in the English Channel we were informed that the Ocean Mail had gone ashore and was totally wrecked at the Chathams. When rounding Cape Horn and in sight of land we sighted a full rigged ship, sailing much closer to the Cape and rapidly overhauled her. To our surprise it was the Crusader. By evening we had left her hull down astern.

Sails Blown Away.

"The following day our course was altered a point or so to the south, and some hours later we were taken aback in a heavy squall. Our wheel was smashed and many of our sails blown to ribbons. Heavy weather and head winds held us up for 14 days, and but for this unfortunate mishap we should probably have had a neck-and-neck race to the Channel. When the pilot boarded our ship he informed us that the Crusader had passed up the Channel 13 days ahead of us. the Avalanche arrived on the 2nd of June, 1877, making the passage in 78 days.

"On her return trip to Wellington during September she was in collision with the barque Forest of Windsor, going down the Channel, and over 100 persons were drowned, including more than sixty passengers from the Avalanche.

"Captain Williams was in command and was drowned. Three of the crew were saved by clambering on to the Forest of Windsor. The latter ship also sank, but had time to launch several boats, and the whole of the crew were landed safely."

One of the Southern papers recently,referring to this ocean race, credited the Rangitiki with being in the race. It stated: "An interesting race between the Crusader (Captain Davies) and the Rangitiki (Captain Scotland) from Lyttelton to London took place in 1877. Both vessels were renowned for their fast sailing performances. The ships left Lyttelton together on March 10, 1877, much public interest being manifested and heavy betting taking place. The vessels kept together until leaving the coast, and the next thing heard was the arrival of the Crusader in London after a splendid run of 65 days. She was the first sailing ship to perform this feat." This paragraph was copied in other New Zealand papers, and is misleading.

Passages To Auckland.

the Crusader visited Auckland in 1884, in command of Captain Scotland; on this occasion she occupied 103 days on the voyage from Gravesend. She made another voyage to Auckland during the following year (1885) arriving here on May 25, after a fast passage of 85 days from London. She arrived a third time in the Waitemata on September 4, 1887. This time in command of Captain Perriam, the run from London occupying 99 days, and again in 1888, still in command of Captain Perriam, she dropped anchor in harbour on August 25, after another fast run of 84 days.

Sprung A Leak.

Captain C. M. Renaut tells a good story of an incident in his father's career in the old Crusader. It happened on the voyage out to New Zealand. After leaving the Azores the ship began to leak, and she was making as much as two and a half inches an hour, so the skipper was sorely tempted to put into one of the ports on the South American coast towards which ships used to keep in order to pick up the trade winds, but the ship's doctor (the late Dr. Guthrie, of Christchurch) advised against this, as yellow fever was rife in the South American ports at that time, and he did not like taking the risk of getting the scourge among the immigrants, of whom there was a large number on board. Captain Renaut therefore held on, and by the time the ship was nearing the Cape of Good Hope the leak took up, and no water was coming in, so it was decided there was no need to put into port.

Leak Breaks Out Again.

When the ship had passed the Cape, and it was too late to beat back to Capetown, the leak got as bad as ever it had been off the South American coast, and everyone had a most anxious time.

There was nothing for it but to hold on, and eventually the ship made port, still leaking badly. A sail had been rigged under the hull, and other precautions were taken, when the leak broke out after passing Cape of Good Hope, because no one knew what was going to happen. The boats, fully provisioned, were swung out, to be in readiness whatever happened. Owing to the amount of work the pumps had to do the pump leather supply gave out when the ship was in the southern seas. One day an American ship was sighted, and the Crusader signalled her asking for some leather, but not the slightest notice was taken of the flags, and there was nothing for it but to make shift with whatever could be found. A bucket brigade was formed from the young men among the immigrants to supplement the pumps. It was a most anxious time for everyone on board. The incident shows how easily something quite unforeseen may happen at sea, and also possibly gives us the key to some of the mysteries of the sea—mysteries surrounding the fate of gallant ships that have sailed away and never been heard of again.

Saved By A Fish.

After the immigrants were landed and the cargo discharged the ship was docked. A hole was located in the ship's bottom, and inside was the skeleton of a fish that had got in through the hole. It is possible that when the leak took up off the Cape of Good Hope the fish's body was blocking the orifice and prevented the water from flowing in freely. A photograph of the hole and the fish skeleton was taken by Mr. de Maus, a noted photographer of ships at Port Chalmers. the Crusader was an iron ship, but she had previously been engaged in carrying copper ore, and it was thought that a lump had been left in the hull, got wet, and gradually wore or corroded a hole in one of the plates.

On the voyage out to Lyttelton in 1875-6 Captain Renaut reported that terrific weather was experienced in the Bay of Biscay, when the whole of the valuable livestock shipped were lost. At one time the ship was in imminent danger from the heavy seas breaking over her. She, however, weathered the storm, proving her seaworthy qualities. Gales continued until November 14, and then moderate winds to the Snares. On this occasion the Otaki, which left Start Point on the same day, encountered the same storm. This was an ocean race between these two ships, as both were bound for Lyttelton. the Crusader sailed three hours after the Otaki, andreached Lyttelton exactly three hours later, so the race was a dead heat between the two rival ships.

During the passage to Lyttelton in 1889 the Crusader, on July 8, was hove-to for several hours in a terrific storm, during which time she shipped a heavy sea, which smashed up two boats forward of the deck-house, carried away 80ft of the topgallant bulwarks, and did other serious damage.

the Crusader was eventually sold to the Norwegians.

Following is the record of the Crusader's voyages to New Zealand:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Feb. 7 May 19, '84 Scotland 102 Mar. 1 May 25, '85 Scotland 85 May 27 Sep. 4, '87 Perriam 100 June 2 Aug. 25, '88 Perriam 84 To Wellington. Feb. 17 May 22, '82 Davies 94 Mar. 28 June 22, '86 Scotland 86 July 4 Oct. 6, '94 Burton 95 To Bluff. June 11 Sep. 10, '96 Burton 91 To Lyttelton. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Dec. 17, '70 Mar. 13, '71 Kerr 86 Dec. 22, '71 Mar. 31, '72 Sutherland 99 Oct. 16, '72 Jan. 5, '73 Sutherland 81 Land to land 74 Nov. 3 '73 Feb. 1, '74 Sutherland 90 Sep. 25 Dec. 30, '74 Renaut 96 Oct. 31, '75 Feb. 8, '76 Renaut 99 Oct. 18, '76 Jan. 13, '77 Llewellyn 87 July 21 Oct. 12, '77 Llewellyn 83 Land to land 74 July 12 Oct. 11, '78 91 Land to land 82 June 24 Sep. 24, '79 Davies 92 July 4 Oct. 7, '80 Llewellyn 95 Dec. 15, '82 Mar. 23, '83 Davies 98 May 11 Aug. 16, '89 Perriam 97 To Port Chalmers. Apr. 2 July 27, '81 Davies 95 Apr. 25 July 19, '90 Perriam 84 Feb. 25 May 29, '91 Perriam 87 July 29 Oct. 26, '92 Perriam 90 June 30 Sep. 22, '93 Fullarton 84 Land to land 78 June 22 Oct. 1, '95 Burton 98 Sep. 4 Dec. 8, '97 Burton 89

The Chaudiere.

the Chaudiere, a small wooden barque of 470 tons, built in 1863, was purchased ten years later by the Shaw, Savill Co. She ran exclusively to Nelson, carrying immigrants, and completed five voyages. Nothing eventful occurred on any of the outward passages. The following are the dates of her arrival at Nelson:—January 20, 1873, Captain Mourdant, 128 days; March 7, 1874, Captain Brown, 118 days; April 22, 1878, Captain Pitfield, 114 days; June 22, 1879, Captain Scott, 124 days; July 1, 1880, Captain Scott, 113 days. the Chaudiere did not visit any of the main ports direct, but frequently went to other ports to load for England. She was at Napier on one or two occasions, and when she last arrived there the insurance companies hesitated about insuring the cargo in a composite ship. Before doing so they insisted upon certain faults being remedied. One of the conditions was that as the chain was not the correct size another must be procured. A chain was brought from the wreck of the City of Auckland, but when it arrived it was found to be too large for the hawser pipes, so new hawser pipes had to be made. After considerable delay the barque was permitted to load, and she sailed for England.

The Lady Jocelyn.

An Old East Indiaman—Trooper and Emigrant Ship—Vesey Stewart Settlers—Visit to Tauranga.

the Lady Jocelyn was originally built for the East India trade, and was fitted with auxiliary steam engines, but when the Suez Canal was opened the engines were dispensed with, and under sail in her early days she made some very fast passages to Australia. the Lady Jocelyn, in addition to having one of those musical names that cling to the memory, was notable for other, reasons. Up to the year 1878, when she sailed for the second time into the Waitemata, she was the biggest immigrant ship trading to these shores, and she was also the

the Lady Jocelyn At Port Chalmers. boat that brought out a large number of the Katikati and Te Puke settlers—two of the special settlements organised by Mr. Vesey Stewart. The Vesey Stewart settlers were men and women in prosperous circumstances, and their arrival was regarded as a distinct forward step in the settlement of the colony.

"Tickle the land with a hoe and it will laugh a harvest," was one of the catch-phrases used by the lecturer that went round the old Britain telling of the golden future that awaited anyone deciding to make a home in the new Britain of the South. A hoe! It would have needed a steam tractor in those days to extract even a smile from the dismal spot in which these disillusioned people found themselves. Old Katikati people will tell you even to-day of the bitter things that were thought and said, and that there were even threats of shooting somebody. But those days are long ago and far away, and though the Katikati stock has by no means stuck to the shores of Tauranga harbour, those that remained have found that New Zealand isn't such a bad place after all, and they won't hear a word against "Kattykat," which to-day is a happy and prosperous settlement.

From North Of Ireland.

The first of the Katikati settlers came out in a ship called the Carisbrooke Castle, 1415 tons, Captain Freebody, which arrived in Auckland on September 8, 1875, after a passage of 92 days. She was from Liverpool and Belfast, and brought 363 people, including 122 "healthy-looking, clear-complexioned Irish lasses," who seem to have taken the eye of the reporter of the"Auckland Star" that recorded the ship's arrival. There were a large number of North of Ireland people (mostly Orangemen) in the party. A public welcome was given to the new-comers in the Choral Hall, and they were afterwards taken down by the Northern Company's steamer Rowena to Tauranga en route for Katikati, which is at the northern end of the Tauranga Harbour.

In addition to Katikati there was also to be a settlement at Te Puke, which to-day is a flourishing centre of the fertile Bay of Plenty, but forty-one years ago the original settlers had to wait in Tauranga for about three weeks because the road to their new home, then being put in from Maketu, had not been completed.

the Lady Jocelyn, with the second party of settlers, arrived at Auckland on August 17, 1878, after a good voyage from Belfast of 88 days. She sailed from Belfast on May 20, and reached Auckland on August 17, bringing out 451 people under the command of Captain Jenkins. According to the newspaper account the voyage was a very happy one. There was one exception, however. Two cases of mild smallpox occurred, and great praise was given to Dr. Ginders, who isolated himself with the patients and nursed them back to health. Dr. Ginders subsequently settled at Rotorua and Auckland.

The James Wishart arrived in Auckland in 1879, having on board a number of passengers for the Vesey Stewart settlement.

To Tauranga Direct.

the Lady Jocelyn brought out another large batch of settlers in 1881, and proceeded direct to Tauranga. It was the day after New Year's Day that the Lady Jocelyn arrived off Tauranga, 95 days out from Gravesend, and as the wind was not favourable for making port, she tacked between Mayor Island and the Mount (the high headland at the entrance to Tauranga harbour). She made a magnificent sight standing across the bay, and there was quite a flutter in the rather sleepy little township, particularly among the Maoris, who were much more numerous in this district forty years ago than they are to-day. the Lady Jocelyn was the first immigrant ship to make a call at Tauranga, and seeing that in addition to the rarity of the occasion she was also a vessel of 2138 tons, it is no wonder that those who saw her standing on and off remembered it as one of the sights of their lives.

Tough Tow.

On January 3 the Northern Company's steamer Glenelg (Captain Farquhar) attempted to tow the big ship in, and got into much trouble. the Glenelg was a very small boat indeed beside the two thousand tonner, and what with things carrying away on the steamer (the tow rope making a clean sweep of her stern bulwarks, there was much language, but Captain Farquhar was not the man to strike his colours. He held on grimly in spite of the weight of the tow and the head wind that was blowing, and he got the ship nearly as far as the end of the reef outside the Mount. It was getting late in the day and the pilot evidently did not care to

Captain Jenkins. risk coming in—probably owing to the state of the tide—so he ordered the tow line to be cast off, and sails were set on the ship to take her off the land.

Next morning at five o'clock the steamer Waitaki went out from the harbour and after an hour's bargaining agreed to tow the ship in for £40. Although some cleats and other fixtures carried away, she at last got the ship inside the Mount, where the tow rope parted, and the ship had to come to a hurried anchor. It was a nasty spot for such a mishap to occur. The tide sweeps round the foot of the Mount at a considerable pace, as more than one vessel has found to its cost, and it requiredquick thinking to bring the big sailer up safely. Eventually the Waitaki completed her £40 job, and at 11 a.m. the Lady Jocelyn was snugly anchored up the harbour.

New Chums Welcomed.

There was a warm welcome for the Lady Jocelyn's passengers from a committee formed by the townspeople, and contemporary accounts tell how some of the immigrants, "fraternised boisterously with the Maoris." Captain Jenkins, the master of the Lady Jocelyn, was duly feted, and the passengers (with whom he was decidedly popular) presented him with an address. A luncheon and other festivities took place and the ship was visited by everyone for miles round. Her stay at Tauranga

the Lady Jocelyn in a storm in the English Channel. The ship put back to Plymouth to refit on this occasion. was very brief, as on January 6th she arrived at Auckland for which port she had some passengers and a large cargo. Here again her size, and fine fittings made her a much admired ship.

A Popular Ship.

the Lady Jocelyn was built in 1852 by Mare, of London. Some years later she was bought by the Shaw, Savill Company, and under their well-known flag—which by the way was originally the design for the national flag of New Zealand—she made several successful voyages to Auckland, Wellington, Lyttelton, and Port Chalmers. She was one of the most comfortable passenger ships in the run, and was always very popular with the travelling public. Captain Jenkins was in command for about seventeen years, from the early sixties until the end of 1881, when he was succeeded by Captain Watt, who was formerly in command of the Wanganui. When the frozen meat trade between the Dominion and the Old Country was being developed, the Lady Jocelyn was fitted with refrigerating machinery and carried cargoes between this country and London. For some years past the Lady Jocelyn has been owned in London by the Shipping Federation (a ship owners' organisation), and used by them as a strike-breaking vessel. When a dock strike happens, if the Federation takes action, they engage free labourers, put them on board the Jocelyn, tow the ship to the affected port, and the free labourers do the work of the strikers, living and feeding on board. Thus they escape molestation. The Jocelyn has London as her home port, and now is a hulk at the West India Docks. Owing to her sturdy construction, she may serve this purpose for many years to come.

When She Was Trooping.

Very few people will remember that the Jocelyn's first visit to Auckland was paid in the sixties, and that she was one of the fleet of vessels that brought troops to Auckland when the Maori War broke out. It was on December 10, 1863, that the Lady Jocelyn, under command of Captain Robert W. Kerr, Lieutenant, R.N.R., dropped anchor in the Waite-mataWaitemata. At this date she was an auxiliary ship chartered by the English Government to bring troops from Calcutta to take part in the Maori War. She brought over the headquarters of the 43rd Regiment Light Infantry, in command of Colonel Henry Booth. Her passengers included 21 officers, 646 rank and file, 48 women, 93 children, and a band numbering 25.

The vessel left Calcutta on October 8, and experienced a continuance of heavy head winds. As she was in very light trim she became very cranky, and made but little headway for several days. Captain Kerr considered the ship unsafe, so he called at Mauritius on November 1 and took in ballast. The next day she resumed her passage, encountered head winds during the first week, after which she had a splendid run to New Zealand, her average speed being 250 miles a day. She passed the Three Kings on December 9. Seven deaths and nine births occurred during the voyage. the Lady Jocelyn brought 600,000 rounds of rifle ammunition, store and tent equipage, etc.

In Heavy Weather.

The "Jocelyn" on two or three occasions encountered some severe storms. In 1884, on her voyage out to Auckland, after crossing the Equator, she struck the tail of a perfect cyclone, and again between Tasmania and the Three Kings she met with heavy weather, and lost many of her sails. The most severe buffeting she received was in a hurricane in the English Channel, when she sustained serious damage, and returned to Plymouth for repairs.

During the seventies the Lady Jocelyn made some rapid passages from the English Channel to Melbourne. In 1877 she is credited with having made the passage in 67 days, the best day's run being 358 miles. She is also credited with having in 1889 made the passage from Lyttelton to London in 78 days.

A Dandy Pilot.

Mr. W. E. Morton, of Auckland, tells of an interesting trip he had in the Lady Jocelyn from Auckland to Melbourne in 1878, and gives an amusing description of the garb of the pilot that came aboard. "The pilot," he writes, "was a tall man in his prime. He was elegantly clothed in frock coat, silver-grey trousers, fawn overcoat, and wore a belltopper, kid gloves, and patent leather shoes." Mr. Morton says that Captain Jenkins was found dead in his cabin on a trip to Wellington. "What a fine end for such a noble navigator and such a gentleman," says Mr. Morton.

Here follow the record of passages made to New Zealand ports:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. May 20 Aug. 17, '78 Jenkins 88 *Sep. 27, '80 Jan. 6, '81 Jenkins 95 Sep. 25, '84 Dec. 26, '84 Watt 90 Nov. 11, '85 Feb. 20, '86 Watt 99 Nov. 26, '86 Mar. 16, '87 Watt 108 April 16, '89 Aug. 7, '89 Watt 112 To Wellington. Sep. 13, '82 Dec. 21, '82 Boorman 99 Aug. 29, '83 Jan. 1, '84 Watt 94 To Lyttelton. Aug. 2 Nov. 11, '72 Jenkins 99 Nov. 3,'74 Jan. 21, '75 Jenkins 80 Aug. 23 Dec. 8, '79 Jenkins 107 Sep. 1 Dec. 9, '81 Jenkins 99 To Dunedin. Aug. 1, '73 Nov. 6, '73 Jenkins 96 Jan. 6, '88 Apr. 15, '88 Watt 88

Via Tauranga.

The above records do not include the first arrival of the Lady Jocelyn at Auckland in 1863, with troops from Calcutta.

Clipper Ships. "O Clipper Ships! where are, where are ye now? I cry the long degrees thro' foul and fair! The Trade Winds sigh, 'We speed no clipper bow'; The hollow-roaring Forties echo, 'Where?'"

The Edwin Fox.

A Record of 32 Years.

Lying in shallow water near the freezing works in Picton Harbour there is an old hulk that is picturesque even in her decrepitude, and, like a brokendown aristocrat, she bears about her unmistakable signs of having seen better days. Her eliptical stern, which once boasted square windows—a style that sufficiently suggest her age—still has the remains of the elaborate scroll-work with which the builders used to adorn

the Edwin Fox Formerly Used As A Landing Stage. the old wooden ships, and the name "Edwin Fox, Southampton," is still legible. Dismantled and stripped of everything, the old barque has defied the hand of time, and is likely to do so for many years to come, for she is built of good solid teak, and now, seventy years after she left the launching ways in Calcutta, which was her birth-place, her timber is as sound as a bell. She has been in her present position for 24 years, and is now used as a storage hulk for coal and other materials of a non-edible nature for the New Zealand Refrigerating Co. She lies alongside the land, and a railway line has been run through the width, and an opening made on the seaward side at the railhead. This allows small coastal vessels to come alongside and load or discharge cargo through the opening. Large coastal vessels of the coaling type come alongside and discharge their cargoes on the top deck by means of a winch hoist.

For thirty-two years she sailed the seas, and if the old hull could speak it would be able to tell some interesting yarns. She was a full-rigged ship of 836 tons, built to the order of the famous East India Company. In 1878 her rig was changed to a barque. About the year 1873 she was bought by the Shaw, Savill Company, and in that year she made her first trip to New Zealand, Lyttelton being her port of call, with 140 immigrants. She arrived on June 27, after a rather tedious passage of 114 days from Brest. Captain Johnston, who was in command, reported that on the voyage there had been six deaths—Dr. Langley, an A.B. killed when the Bay of Biscay was being crossed, three adults from fever, and one infant. When the ship arrived at Lyttelton she was placed inquarantine, as four of the deaths reported were from fever.

In 1874 the Edwin Fox sailed from London on December 23, and arrived at Wellington on April 18, 1875, bringing 259 immigrants. She originally left London on November 24, but during a gale at Deal lost her anchor and put back. The vessel was then in command of Captain Walpole. On resuming her voyage again she ran into and sank a collier schooner, the Edwin Fox drifting on to the rocks at Deal. She was towed off and docked, and finally left on December 23 in command of Captain Davis.

In 1878 the barque sailed for Nelson with 244 Government immigrants, and

the Edwin Fox Used As A Hulk At Picton. arrived at her destination on November 18. She was then 25 years old.

Another passage was made to Lyttelton in 1880. The barque sailed from London on January 7, and arrived on May 3, in command of Captain J. Phease, making the run in 115 days. She brought out 20 saloon, 12 second-class, and 77 steerage passengers. For the most part fine weather was experienced, light winds prevailing. There were many complaints over the sleeping accommodation. Some of the quarters were almost in darkness, and some berths wet from water finding its way down the side of the ship. The passengers also complained of the scantiness and quality of the food. This was the case with a large number of the ships bringing immigrants in the early days. Some of the passengers were booked for Auckland, and came on by steamer.

The same year, on December 31, the Edwin Fox sailed from London for the Bluff, and arrived there on May 19, 1881, making a long passage of 139 days.

the Edwin Fox came once more, in 1885, to Port Chalmers, under the command of Captain Paterson, the run out having occupied 116 days.

During her long sea life the Edwin Fox saw some stirring times. On one occasion, in the English Channel, she had a close call in a furious gale. The crews managed to get at some cases of spirits, and were nearly all drunk, so the passengers had to turn to, man the pumps, and do what they could to save the ship. Eventually, leaking badly, she was towed by the steamer Copernicus into Brest. On another occasion she grounded on the Goodwin Sands, but was successfully refloated from that grave of gallant ships and towed back to London for repairs.

Once a Freezer.

With such a sound old hull the Edwin Fox did not suffer the usual fate of the wooden craft, and she played rather an important part in the early days of the freezing industry of New Zealand. As those who have followed the history of the industry are aware, there were no land freezing works when the industrystarted. The freshly-slaughtered carcases were taken straight aboard the ship, and there frozen. Refrigerating plant was fitted in the Edwin Fox in London by the Shaw, Savill Company, and she was sent out to Dunedin to act as freezing and store-ship to the other vessels of the company that had been fitted up to carry frozen meat Home. This was in the year 1885.

Still living in Auckland is Mr. H. Weatherilt, who came out in the Edwin Fox on this voyage to Dunedin as engineer-in chief for the Union Steamship Co. He fitted up all the machinery in the ship, and had the entire management for five years, until she went to Napier. Subsequently Mr. Weatherilt was appointed senior superintendent of machinery and surveyor of ships for the New Zealand Government. He held this position for many years, and retired in June, 1912. Mr. Weatherilt, it will be remembered, was one of eight survivors rescued from the raft sent out from the ill-fated Elingamite, wrecked on the Three Kings on November 9, 1902. He with seven others were 5½ days on the raft before being picked up by H.M.s. Penguin.

Mr. J. Gibb, who was employed on the Edwin Fox in her new capacity, is also alive, and living at Napier in good health. Mr. Gibb had then been in the employ of the company for several years, sailing in the seventies as boatswain of the Nelson and the Canterbury. When the Edwin Fox arrived at Port Chalbers in 1885 Mr. Gibb was sent aboard to dismantle the superfluous gear and assist in getting her ready for the ensuing season's freezing. After being used at Port Chalmers for a few years the Fox was sent up to Lyttelton, then to Gisborne, and later to the Bluff, and then finally she was sent to Picton under engagement to freeze for the Wairau Company. After two seasons the Christchurch Meat Company, now the New Zealand Refrigerating Co., bought the Fox, and Mr. Gibb went with her. A season later the company built works ashore, and the old vessel was stripped and hauled up in shallow water, where she now lies, and is used as a coal hulk for the works.

The British Empire.

One of the fastest sailers visiting New Zealand in the seventies was the barque British Empire, a vessel of 1499 tons, owned by Mr. George Duncan, of London, and sent out by the Shaw, Savill Co. She came to Auckland on two occasions bringing a large number of immigrants and a few saloon passengers, among the latter in 1875 being Mr. Arthur Colbeck, Mr. J. W. Smith, Mr. A. Blake Green, and many others who have made successful settlers and held prominent positions in the Dominion.

On each of her runs to Auckland the barque was under the command of Capt. Mather. the British Empire sailed from Gravesend on July 1st, and arrived in the Waitemata on October 7, 1875, making a fine passage of 88 days from the docks. Her next visit to Auckland was in 1880. She arrived on February 4th after another good passage of 93 days from the docks. The same vessel made one voyage to Dunedin under Captain Rowe, arriving there on September 8th, 1875, doing the run out in under 100 days.

Another ship bearing the same name, a large vessel of 2600 tons, arrived at Lyttelton on September 6th, 1884, with 33 saloon and 366 immigrants. The "Lyttelton Times" reporting her arrival stated she was the largest ship which had ever entered Lyttelton harbour.

There is a history attached to this vessel. Bad luck appears to have followed her even during her early days. As the vessel was being towed down the river from Bristol, a place where the tide has a great rise and fall, her bow stuck on a projecting part of the bank. The tide running out very fast at the time swung her round until the stern caught the opposite bank and left her high and dry and several lighters and small vessels actually sailed under her. Naturally such a large ship was severely strained and considerable law costs were involved. The ship was floated again during the next tide and some repairs effected. Finally, bad luck having kept close company with her, she was wrecked with many other vessels in a tidal wave at St. Thomas, West Indies.

The Ship Wellington.

Some Close Calls—Exciting Time Among the Ice.

During the 32 years she sailed the ocean, between the day she first took the water on the River Clyde and the day she foundered when being towed down to an Argentine port, the ship Wellington had a most adventurous career.

the Wellington was a ship of 1250 tons, and she was built by Robert Duncan at Port Glasgow in 1874 for Patrick Henderson, who later amalgamated with the Shaw Savill Company, and it was under the house flag of the company that she made most of her voyages to New Zealand.

Almost On Three Kings.

the Wellington made only one voyage to Auckland, and on that occasion she very nearly left her bones on the Three Kings, a danger that has been a menace to shipping for years and is still unlighted. Mr. James Morris, now residing in Auckland, who was a passenger from London on this occasion, arriving here in January, 1882, has sent me an account of the incident. He writes:—

"The running into a mountainous iceberg was not the only miraculous escape which this good ship had, as on the trip when I was a passenger to Auckland we had a narrow escape of running on to the Three Kings. I kept a diary or the voyage, and I find this entry: Dec. 29, 1881—wind light; ship logged only 87 miles during past 24 hours. Towards evening there was a dense mist, dull weather having prevailed for several days. The officers calculated we were some 30 to 40 miles north of the Three Kings. Suddenly the fog lifted and the islands were revealed right ahead. As quickly as possible the ship's head was turned out to sea, giving the Kings a wide berth. Some of the passengers were much alarmed; some cried; some clung hold of the sailors, and others knelt down and prayed for their deliverance.'" Captain Cowan was in command on this occasion.

Under favourable conditions the Wellington had a great turn of speed, and Mr. Morris in his letter mentions that on December 2nd she ran 342 knots, which gives an average of over 14 miles an hour.

Run Down.

On another occasion, when on a voyage to Wellington, the ship was in collision in the English Channel. She left London with immigrants on October 11, 1890, and on the following day the collision occurred. She had her stem, jib-boom, and all head gear carried away and a large hole knocked in her bow.

"The pilot left us in the Downs at 3 a.m. on October 12th," said Captain Cowan, "and at 6.40 a.m., while the ship lay becalmed in a dense fog, a steamer crossed her bows and came in collision with her. The stem, jib-boom, and all head gear were carried away and large holes were knocked, in each bow. We were obliged to put back and the ship was towed to port by the tug which had never left her side. The steamer that ran us down proved to be the Adolf Dieppe, of 800 tons, belonging to Antwerp. She, too, suffered considerably, her bridge, funnel. and mainmast having been carried away and a large hole, partly under her waterline, knocked in her side. The fog was very dense the whole time and the whistles of various steamers could be heard on all sides. The Adolf Dieppe appeared to be coming at full speed, but ported her helm in the hopes of getting across the ship's bow. She was a very low boat, and the damage to her bridge, funnel and mainmast was done by the ship's jib-boom. the Wellington was towed back to London and placed in dry dock, where upon examination it was found that 24ft of the stem was smashed completely away, while a large number of plates on each bow had to be taken out and replaced, the work taking fourteen days.

A Miraculous Escape.

The most wonderful escape the Wellington had was in 1893, when she was bound from Picton to London with frozen meat. The story was told me by Mr. Andrew Aitken, the burly Scottish mate of the Takapuna ferry steamer Pupuke, who was one of the crew of the Wellington on this memorable voyage. The ship left Picton on May 12, 1893. It was not until three weeks later that she got clear of the land. About halfway between New Zealand and Cape Horn, while running out of a hurricane, with goose-winged main topsail, the ship pooped a sea, which broke the arm of the man at the wheel and sent the mate through the hen coop, breaking his legin two places. During this gale the ship logged fourteen knots, which it must be admitted was pretty good for a vessel under bare poles except for the goose-winged main topsail. For the landsman it may be as well to explain that a square sail is "goose-winged" when the middle part is furled to the yard and only the corners (clews as they are called) are hauled out, this giving the sail the appearance of a goose's wing.

From New Zealand to the Horn there is usually a fair wind, and in the case of the Wellington it was considerably more than that; so much so that the ship found herself away to the south-east of that stormy corner. Right up to the Horn the course was by dead

the Wellington At Port Chalmers. reckoning (the weather had been so bad) and Mr. Aitken says they were so far to the eastward that they sighted South Georgia.

Crashes Into A Berg.

It was at a quarter to four the morning after sighting this land that the look-out man cried out "Ice!" the ship seemed to be right on top of it. There in the dark loomed a great iceberg, "with more mass than Rangitoto," says Mr. Aitken.

"Down with your helm" rang out the order, and as the ship came up into the wind she just struck the berg with her shoulder. There was a deafening crash as the jibboom and everything on the foremast above the lower mast came down, while about thirty feet of the ship's head was crumpled. The forecastle was a litter of wreckage and ice that had come crashing down on the deck. Everyone on board thought his last moment had come.

In the forecastle, where the watch below was fast asleep, there was a scene of confusion. Being a light sleeper, Mr. Aitken jumped out of his bunk at the first cry from the look-out, and quickly realising the position called out: "It's all right, boys; we've struck ice, but we are clear of it now!" When the crash came it seemed as though the ship's side must be stove in. Sleeping in the next bunk to Mr. Aitken was a lad, and, like all youngsters, he was a sound sleeper. It is to be hoped he never wakened, as the crumpled iron plates crushed his body flat, and he did not even cry out.

An Awful Death.

The fate of a sailor named Fleming was not so merciful. He was caught under the debris, and nothing could extricate him. As soon as possible Mr. Aitken (who was Fleming's particular chum, having known him on a previous ship) made his way through the ice and found the unfortunate man in an awful plight; in fact he was so terribly injured that it was a marvel that he lived. "For Heaven's sake, Andy, get a gun and put me out of my agony," shrieked the injured sailor. It would have been a kindness to accede to his prayer, butthat was impossible. Mercifully he soon afterwards lost consciousness, but he lingered until about eight o'clock that morning.

Upon going down into the forehatch where the coal for the refrigerator was carried it was found that two of the plates had been wrenched apart, letting daylight through, but fortunately the ship was not damaged below the waterline. It was a miracle that with all that crushing weight forward—ice from the berg and the wrecked spars and rigging—no more serious damage was done to the hull.

For three days the crew were up cutting the wreckage away and clearing the awful confusion made by the fall of the

the Wellington After Her Terrible Experience Among The Ice. top hamper. "I was five days before I got to the wheel," says Mr. Aitken, "and while we were getting things as shipshape as was possible there was no question of steering the old ship; we were just drifting about."

"Now We Know."

"When it was all over," continued Mr. Aitken, "Captain Cowan, with tears in his eyes, said to me, 'Now we know what happened to the Dunedin.' I did not know the ship he was referring to, but she had left New Zealand in 1890; loaded with frozen meat for the Old Country, and was never heard of again. Naturally her disappearance was much discussed by the skippers in the trade."

After the tangle aloft had been cleared away the Wellington's crew were able to set the foresail, and a course was made for Rio de Janeiro, where the ship refitted. At that time there was one of those frequent South American wars on, the navy fighting the army in this instance, and there were a number of foreign men-o'-wars in the harbour, included among the number being several British. In spite of the knocking about she had received, the Wellington's engineers managed to keep the refrigerators going all right, and a good deal of the meat was sold to the shipping at Rio. Captain Cowan, the master of the Wellington, was a fine seaman and a fine gentleman, says Mr. Aitken.

Captain Cowan.

Captain Cowan, commanded the Wellington when she was first launched, and he made 19 voyages to New Zealand, bringing many thousand immigrants from London and Glasgow to the chief ports in New Zealand, but mainly to Lyttelton and Port Chalmers. Captain Cowan was much esteemed by his passengers as a gentleman, and he was a very fine sailor. Before taking over the Wellington he commanded the Wild Deer, Helenslee and Margaret Galbraith and other ships running to the Dominion.

the Wellington made some very good passages to New Zealand, her best run port to port being 74 days from Glasgow to Port Chalmers (70 days land to land)in 1877-78. On her first voyage Home in 1875 the Wellington ran from Port Chalmers to London in 69 days. The ship put a fine finish to her record in the trade. This was in 1904. She left Lyttelton on February 13 of that year, loaded with wool, and ran to the English Channel in 75 days. At the end of this voyage, her last under the British

Captain Cowan. flag, she was sold by the Shaw Savill Company to S. O. Stray, of Norway, for the low sum of £3150. It was on December 3, 1906. that this craft of many adventures met her doom. She was being towed from Gulfport, U.S.A., to Rosario, Argentine, and had to be abandoned on her beam ends, and afterwards foundered.

Following is the list of the Wellington's passages to New Zealand:

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Oct. 2, '81 Jan. 2, '82 Cowan 90 To Wellington. June 26 Oct. 6, '97 Canese 102 NOV. 9 Feb. 17, '02 Thomas 100 To Nelson. Oct. 9 Jan. 14,'03 Thomas 97 To Lyttelton. Sep. 4 Oct. 11, '86 Cowan 99 Sep. 12 Dec. 12, '87 Cowan 91 Sep. 10 Dec. 19, '88 Cowan 100 Oct. 11, '90 Jan. 16, '91 Cowan 82 Land to land 74 Dec. 19, '91 Apr. 2, '92 Cowan 103 To Port Chalmers. Dec. 4, '74 Feb. 25, '75 Cowan 82 Lana to land 70 Dec. 18, '75 Mar. 17, '76 Cowan 88 Dec. 17, '76 Apr. 1, '77 Cowan 105 Nov. 23, '77 Feb. 6, '78 Cowan 74 Land to land 70 Nov. 29, '78 Feb. 17, '79 Cowan 79 Nov. 12, '79 Jan. 29, '80 Cowan 77 *Nov. 7, '80 Jan. 24, '81 Cowan 79 Dec. 9, '82 Mar. 12, '83 Cowan 92 NOV. 29, '83 Feb. 17, '84 Cowan 80 NOV. 22, '84 Feb. 5, '85 Cowan 76 Dec. 12, '92 Mar. 25, '93 Cowan 102 Sep. 21, '00 Jan. 5, '900 Thomas 90

Falmouth to Snares, 75

The Forfarshire.

the Forfarshire, a fine large wellappointed ship of 1238 tons, made frequent visits to New Zealand and Australia. She was built in 1867, and eight years later, sailing under the Shaw-Savill flag, arrived at Auckland with immigrants. She did not run continuously to the colony, having made only six voyages from 1875 until 1900. Nothing eventful occurred on any of the passages to New Zealand, out or home. She experienced some heavy gales in the Southern Ocean occasionally, and in 1894, when bound for Wellington, had her starboard bulwarks carried away by heavy seas breaking on board, besides sustaining other severe damage.

the Forfarshire's records to New Zealand are:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Mar. 19 July 7, '75 Jones 108 To Wellington. Nov. 16 Mar. 6, '73 Fox 105 Sep. 7 Dec. 17, '94 Perry 101 To Dunedin. June 18 Oct. 2, '79 Brown 99 Mar. 30 June 26, '83 Brown 85 Sep. 21, '89 Jan. 2, '90 Collingwood 100

The Barque Glenlora.

Consistent Little Sailer—Dismasted in Southern Ocean—Ashore on Rangitoto.

A fine little sailer for her size—she was only 764 tons—was the Shaw, Savill, and Albion Company's barque Glenlora, which was very well known in Auckland, to which port she brought several thousands of immigrants between 1874 and 1895, during which period she made nine passages from London to Auckland. the Glenlora was generally proclaimed a comfortable ship, and she

The Barque Glenlora. was a consistent sailer. She completed no less than 27 runs to the Dominion, and only five of these exceeded 100 days. That is with the exception of one disastrous run, when the vessel was dismasted, and she was 215 days between London and Wellington, 47 days being spent at Mauritius, where the ship put in for refitting. Another exciting incident in the history of the little ship happened at the very end of one of her trips to Auckland, the Glenlora running plump on to Rangitoto reef, but fortunately floating off again without damage.

It was in 1872 that the Glenlora made her protracted trip to Wellington. She left Gravesend on August 8th of that year, and struck bad weather almost as soon as she cleared the English Channel, and again when between the Line and the Cape of Good Hope. But worse was to follow, and, after she had passed the Cape, she was struck by a squall, and lost her masts. Captain Culbert, who was in command, managed to get enough sail on her to bring her into port at Mauritius, and some idea of the damage done may be gathered from the fact that it took over forty days to get her ready for sea. She started out again on her voyage to Wellington on January 5, 1873, but the storm-fiend was still on her track, and four days after leaving port she ran into a gale of hurricane force. The straining the ship encountered had the effect of slacking up her brand-new rigging, and the crew had the tedious job of bracing it up to keep things in their places.

During this bad weather the Glenlora met with a barque called Der Fuchs, from an Italian port, which had been so badly buffeted about by the gale that she was in a sinking condition, and her crew were much relieved when the British ship bore down upon her. The captain and crew of twelve, including four Lascars, were taken aboard the Glenlora. From then onwards the Glenlora experienced fair weather. Three days after leaving Mauritius the ship's doctor (Dr. L'Estrange) died from a dangerous fever he caught at the island. Owing to the protracted nature of the voyage the provisions did

The Storm-Tossed Glenlora. not last out, and for several days before Wellington was reached the passengers were living entirely on rice. From the time the Glenlora left Gravesend until anchor was dropped in Port Nicholson 215 days elapsed.

Runs On Rangitoto.

It was four years later that the Glenlora had such a narrow escape from coming to grief when entering the port of Auckland. She was in command of Captain Mitchell, and arrived at the entrance to Rangitoto Channel on the night of January 16, 1877. It was a dark night with a light wind from the north-east, and the ship was doing about four knots under full sail.

Eight bells (midnight) had just gone, the watch had been changed, Bean Rock light had been duly reported on the port bow, and the captain was watching the peak of old Rangitoto and waiting until it bore east-by-north before straightening the ship to come up Rangitoto Channel. Suddenly the look-out man cried out "Hard a-starboard! Hard a-starboard! There's something ahead!".

Captain Mitchell sprang to the wheel, but he had scarcely pulled it over when the ship's forefoot grated, then "slithered up" over the rocks, and there the ship hung; hard and fast for'ard and afloat astern.

Awakened by the shock, the passengers soon came running up on deck, but they were at once reassured that there was no danger, and the captain ordered blue lights to be burned and rockets sent up.

Within twenty minutes of the stranding the steamer Lalla Rookh (Captain Somerville), then on her way to Coromandel, was on the scene. The spot where the Glenlora went ashore is a nasty rocky corner, and Captain Somerville naturally did not care about going in too close for fear he might get into trouble himself.

Floated Off.

Just then off came the pilot boat that had been attracted by the signals of distress sent up by the stranded ship, and the pilot, Captain Burgess, went aboard the Lalla Rookh and steered her alongside the barque.

Nothing could be done in the direction of getting the Glenlora off her uncomfortable berth at that stage, but just about daybreak she floated off on the rising tide and the Lalla Rookh took her in town.

Near the North Head they met the Enterprise coming out to help, and the newcomer making fast on the other side of the barque, the two steamers soon had her at the wharf, undamaged, much to the relief of the merchants who were expecting cargo by her, for those were the days when it took many months to fill orders.

Eventful Run Home.

the Glenlora had a rather eventful passage Home from Auckland in 1875. Mr. Albert G. Allom, who is now residing in Auckland, was a midshipman on board at the time, and he has supplied me with a few incidents of the voyage. The ship ran into very dirty weather off the Horn, with head winds. It was understood that Captain Le Vesconte had made a wager with the captain of a ship sailing a few days earlier that he would be round the corner (meaning Cape Horn) in less than twenty-one days. He ran very far south, and encountered a large number of icebergs. One morning at daylight the ship was surrounded by no less than thirteen huge bergs, and in order to clear them the ship had to be continually put about. As the nights were very dark it was a wonder the ship did not run into one, it being impossible to see further than the end of the bowsprit. Later the ship ran short of water, and put into Pernambuco for a fresh supply. Soon after getting under way one of the sailors fell overboard from the cat-head while assisting to get the anchors on board. No time was lost in manning a boat, and just as his comrades were about to assist him into the boat he was caught by a shark and dragged under.

Her Best Run.

The best run ever made by this little barque while in the New Zealand trade was between London and Nelson, seventy-nine days land to land and eighty-four days port to port. Her next best performance was from Glasgow to Port Chalmers, the run taking eighty-three days. On the passage out from London to Lyttelton in 1883-4, Captain Pitfield was found dead in his bed on March 31. The chief officer, Mr. Bowling, took command, and brought the vessel to Lyttelton.

From the following list it will be seen that the barque made several runs of between eighty and ninety days to the several New Zealand ports:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Sep. 26, '74 Jan. 5, '75 Le Vesconte 100 Oct. 25, '75 Feb. 15, '76 Le Vesconte 112 Oct. 8, '76 Jan. 17, '77 Mitchell 100 Aug. 2 Nov. 1, '78 Scotland 89 Aug. 3 Oct. 29, '80 Scotland 86 April 5 July 5, '82 Scotland 90 Mar. 23 June 27, '83 Scotland 95 Nov. 1, '84 Feb. 28, '85 Sargent 118 Sep. 6, '96 Jan. 3, '97 Tonkin 117 To Wellington. *Aug. 8, '72 Mar. 11, '73 Culbert 215 Nov. 3, '73 Feb. 2, '74 Renaut 91 June 17 Sep. 22, '81 Scotland 97 Nov. 2, '93 Feb. 8, '94 Tonkin 96 To Lyttelton. Sep. 18 Dec. 19, '77 Scotland 92 June 5 Aug. 30, '79 Scotland 86 Dec. 23, '83 Apr. 5, '84 Bowling 103 To Nelson. Nov. 3, '85 Feb. 8, '86 Sargent 97 May 10, '87 Aug. 2, '87 Sargent 84 May 17, '88 Aug. 21, 88' Sargent 96 Feb. 22, '89 May 25, '89 Sargent 92 Feb. 11, '90 May 22, '90 Nicol 100 Nov. 16, '91 Feb. 13, '92 Tonkin 89 Nov. 14, '92 Feb. 17, '93 Tonkin 95 *Oct. 22, '95 Jan. 9, '96 Tonkin 79 To Port Chalmers. Dec. 26, '90 Mar. 20, '91 Nicholl 83 Nov. 10, '94 Feb. 14, '95 Tonkin 86

Dismasted and put into Mauritius for repairs.

From start point—the record passage to Nelson.

Most of the illustrations of ships at Port Chalmers appearing in this book are from the studio of Mr. D. A. De Maus, who has a very large collection of the ships arriving at Port Chalmers from 1850 until 1900.

The Margaret Galbraith.

Good Average Passage Maker—Exciting Time in the Ice.

the Margaret Galbraith (or the old "Maggie," as she was familiarly called), one of Duncan's ships, sailed under the Shaw, Savill flag, and made 21 voyages to the several ports of New Zealand between 1873 and 1900, bringing a very large number of immigrants from London and Glasgow. She was a comparatively small iron vessel of 841 tons. In 1880, in command of Captain Fergusson, she ran out to Port Chalmers in 87 days, or 75 land to land. She left Greenock on October 23, 1879, had a smart run of 19 days to the Equator, passed the Cape on the fiftieth day out, and the Snares on

The Margaret Galbraith. January 5, arriving in port on January 7. The following year Captain Fergusson brought the ship to Auckland in 85 days from London Docks.

On her last voyage to Auckland in 1882 the Margaret Galbraith brought out the plant of the Devonport Water Works. After discharging, the ship sailed from Auckland for Timaru. When about ten miles off Lyttelton she was caught in a very severe S.E. gale. She had on board 100 tons of pig iron, which shifted during the gale, and the vessel was thrown on her beam ends and had a narrow escape of foundering. Mr. Claude Fenwick, of Auckland, was a passenger by the ship on this occasion. the Margaret Galbraith was towed into Lyttelton by a passing steamer. In the Old Colonists' Museum, Auckland, may be seen a photo. of the Margaret Galbraith inside of the Calliope Dock unloading the pipes for Devonport.

the Margaret Galbraith, on the passage to Napier in 1895, met with a succession of gales and light winds prior to crossing the Equator, 44 days out from London. When in latitude 44 south and longitude 25 east the ship was surrounded by icebergs for six days.

Captain Renaut, who brought the ship out in 1899, reported a most trying passage. He said: "The vessel rolled out, rather than sailed out," occupying 114 days from London to Port Chalmers. All the ships arriving during the latter part of 1899 made long passages, owing to terrific gales met with in the Southern Ocean, and all were more or less seriously damaged, including such clippers as the Canterbury, Oamaru, Waitangi, Turakina, and others—the Turakina making the best run of the season—93 days.

From the coast of New Zealand to Cape Horn sailing ships were generally given a good start on the long sail home. All day and every day the good breeze blew anywhere from south-west to north-west, and often as not the wind was piping anything from a half-gale up to a full gale; but what matter, it was blowing the old hooker home! Remarkable runs were often made on this stretch across the South Pacific, but it was always an anxious time for captain and crew, because there was always the possibility of meeting ice. You never knew what you were going to meet in that long run over the stormy Southern seas.

Who can tell how many tragedies those seas hide under their long grey rollers that break in a smoke of spray? Good ships, well-found, well-manned, and in command of skilful navigators, have started out on this long sail and have never been heard of again, and in the many speculations as to their fate

"Castle Rock" In Ice.This iceberg, so like Castle Rock, near Coromandel, Auckland, was another of the strange shapes passed by the ship Margaret Galbraith. It was about ten miles long and some 500 feet high, with what looked like a pillar of basaltic rock sticking out of the top.—From a photograph and painting by H. N. Burgess. the dreaded iceberg has always loomed large and grim.

Among The Ice,

the Margaret Galbraith had a narrow escape of ending her career in 1893, when bound Home from a New Zealand port. "Before sailing," writes Mr. H. N. Burgess, of Auckland, who was second officer of the ship, "we had instructions on the Homeward trip round Cape Horn to keep a good look-out for ice, as a lot of it had been reported by other ships that had preceded us. We used to take the temperature of the sea water every evening, especially during misty weather, the idea being that the presence of an iceberg lowers the temperature of the sea, and if the thermometer showed anything out of the normal we would know we were in the vicinity of ice. In addition to taking this precaution I used to go up to the cross-trees at sundown, or send a hand aloft to see if there were any signs of ice about on the horizon.

"After we had got well round the Horn, and to the north of the Falkland Islands, the weather grew warmer, and there was a perceptible rise in the temperature of the sea water, so we naturally thought we had passed the danger zone and relaxed the precautions we had been taking. This had been going on for two or three days, when one night we had a marvellous escape. It was evening, in the second dog watch, the weather squally and thick from the north-west, and the air was full of strange noises, something like distant thunder. Peering to windward I thought I saw ice, but the wind being comparatively warm I felt that I must have been mistaken. However, I called the skipper. He had a look round, but could see no ice, and told me that I was not likely to see ice in those latitudes with the temperature of the sea water between 45 and 50 degrees.

Only Just In Time.

"When I came on deck again in the middle watch (midnight) my little weather glass told me there was some dirty weather coming, and I took in some of the small sail. About four bells I caught sight in the glare of the starboard light of something that was not the wash from the lee bow. It was a huge slab of ice a few feet above the water and stretching as far into the mist as I could see! I did not take long making up my mind about it that time, but yelled to "down helm," and it was only just in time. As we slithered alongside the ice I held my breath for the "crash," but we cleared it.

"As we swung up into the wind you could have jumped from our quarter on to the ice that had so nearly been our doom. I got to work 'quick and busy' shortening sail.

"Just as day was breaking, the

Enormous Iceberg.This huge berg was about 40 to 50 miles long, with no visible break in it, and about 1000 feet high at the north-east end. The ship passed the south-west end of it at 9 a.m. on a Sunday, and sailed along under its lee till 4 p.m., bright sunshine and (comparatively) warm weather, at an average speed of about 5 knots. We were almost becalmed, only doing two or three knots, so I took a couple of interesting photos., one as it is shown with, the dark cliff in the foreground showing about 100 feet above the water, about twenty minutes later another photo. when this cliff was submerged nearly out of sight, showing the berg was rolling about once "there and back" in 40 to 60 minutes. When you picture there is about four-fifths of the whole berg submerged, and the whole bulk of it was apparently rolling, you can figure out what sort of a semi-circle the bottom and top edge were describing. The sun was melting it, and the water was pouring down in roaring cataracts all day long. —From a photograph and painting by H. N. Burgess. weather cleared, and a remarkable sight met our eyes. We were surrounded by bergs of all shapes and sizes. Right in our wake there were several big fellows, and how we had cleared them has always been a mystery to me. The day turned out fine, the sun shining brightly, and a fresh south-west breeze blowing, so we made sail again, and sailed amongst the bergs the whole day. At night the weather came on thick again, and so we shortened down.

Queer Shapes.

"For the next three or four days we were among the ice, and saw some very beautiful sights. One morning a boy called me to see the 'Cliffs of Dover.' It was a mighty good representation of them—a long white berg about 14 to 16 miles long and about 150ft to 200ft high, clear cut on the face and a lot of black patches on top. Another berg we called 'Cleopatra's Needle,' a practically square column of ice about 200ft to 300ft high. When first sighted it was at a big angle. As we got nearer it straightened up, and was rocking slowly, evidently getting a bit top heavy. We saw a tremendous splash astern and heard a noise like heavy thunder, and 'Cleopatra's Needle' was no more.

"Another very striking berg was one we called 'Castle Rock.' It was a beautiful 'hummocky' island of ice several miles long with what looked like a big black basaltic rock sticking out of the top of it—not unlike 'Castle Rock' at Coromandel, Auckland. A lot of the bergs seemed to have black rocks or 'morraine' matter in them.

"After sailing for three or four days in this field we seemed to get clear of it for a couple of days, and saw no more until one very calm night, with hardly a breath of wind, you could 'hear' the ice. Salt water goes through some peculiar process when freezing, and leaves the salt behind, so that it is really a mass of myriads of minute bubbles frozen together, and as these melt on a calm night it sounds like the effervescence of soda water, or like myriads of tinkling bells in the distance.

An Ice Continent.

"The climax came one Sunday morning. We were running along before a moderate north-west gale, and things looked very black ahead, but the day broke clear and fine, and then we saw a sight. More ice. Not huge bergs such as we had been sailing through before, but a veritable continent of it, stretching away to the eastward as far as the eye could reach. We were off the south-west corner at 8 o'clock in the morning, and a wonderful sight it was to watch the seas breaking against the icy shore just as they do against the rock-bound coast. The big westerly seas came sweeping in from the ocean—not like the gradual shelving of the shore on our New Zealand West Coast, for instance—but a mile or so deep, and than hurling themselves against the ice cliffs were dissipated in showers of spray hundreds of feet high. It was a glorious sight, and we saw as much of it as we wanted, for owing to the fact that there were a number of loose bergs to windward—probably calves from the large mass—we had to sail along the edge of the 'continent' all day, finally getting out clear at the north-east end at about 4 p.m., and that was the last we saw of the ice on this memorable passage."

Enormous Icebergs.

Mr. H. N. Burgess' experiences among the ice in 1892 and 1893, when published in the "Auckland Star," caused a lot of arguments about the size of 'bergs and the extent of ice-fields met in such circumstances and some of Mr. Burgess' estimates were frankly doubted. But this is a matter in which you won't get a careful sailor tripping. As many landsmen are aware the sailor can estimate to a nicety the distance he is from any seen point, and his sextant gives him a very good instrument for measuring heights once his distance from an object is known. Mr. Burgess is able to prove his figures quite easily by authenticated reports in the "Nautical Magazine" and the "Shipping Gazette" given by ships that had met the same ice that Mr. Burgess recorded in such an interesting manner. And their estimates agree within a very small margin. For instance the Curzon and the Loch Eck both fix the 1892 ice at 1000 feet. For the ice that was met in 1893 there are the figures of the Loch Torridon, Cutty Sark, Turakina, Brier Holme and Charles Racine. Three of them give 1000 feet, the same height as the Margaret Galbraith (Mr. Burgess' ship). The Torridon saw ice 1500 feet high. and the Turakina fell in with some 1200 feet high. Then as to the extent of some of the fields. The Cromdale, Strathdown, County of Edinborough, and the Curzon sighted the same field as the Margaret Galbraith, and they reported it to be about 400 to 500 miles in extent. In the publications mentioned there are many well-authenticated instances of 1000ft bergs and fields of an extent that might well make the landsman wonder.

the Margaret Galbraith came to grief in 1905. She sailed from the River Plate for England with a cargo of grain, and on leaving port she stranded and became a total loss on March 27.

Following are the passages made by the Margaret Galbraith to New Zealand:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Nov. 2, '78 Feb. 7, '79 Fergusson 97 Nov. 1, 80 Jan. 25, '81 Fergusson 85 July 11 Nov. 9, '82 Fergusson 118 To Napier. Sep. 14, '94 Jan. 15, '95 Collingwood 123 To Wellington. Nov. 13, '77 Feb. 7, '78 Fergusson 85 Sep. 12, '81 Jan. 6, '82 Fergusson 117 Sep. 30, '83 Jan. 5, '84 Carden 95 April 3 July 13, '90 Carden 101 Mar. 30 June 30, '91 Carden 91

To Nelson. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. May 11 Sep. 14, 92 Carden 126 — Mar. 11, '00 Culbert 98 To Lyttelton. Jan. 17 Apr. 20, '77 Fergusson 93 To Port Chalmers. Nov. 2, '72 Jan. 30, '73 Cowan 87 Land to land 81 Oct. 31, '74 Feb. 2, '75 Peebles 94 Sep. 29, '75 Jan. 12, '76 Peebles 104 Oct. 16, '79 Jan. 12, '80 Fergusson 87 Land to land 75 Oct. 4, '84 Jan. 6, '85 Carden 93 Oct. 15, '85 Jan. 20, '86 Carden 96 July 14 Oct. 27, '88 Carden 105 June 7 Sep. 22, '89 Carden 104 Oct. 9, '95 Jan. 26, '96 Collingwood 101 Nov. 4, '98 Feb. 27, '99 Renaut 115

The Oxford.

Dismasted in Bay of Biscay.

the Oxford, sailing under the flag of the Shaw, Savill Co., was a beautiful ship of 1287 tons. She made a remarkable passage to Port Chalmers in 1876, covering the distance from Start Point in 74 days. She originally sailed from Gravesend on November 25, and three days later took her final departure from Start Point. She crossed the Equator on the twenty-second day out, December 20, and passed between Prince Edward and Marion Islands on January 17, anchoring at Port Chalmers on 10th February.

A few days after sailing from Plymouth in 1883 for Wellington, with 302 passengers on board, the Oxford encountered a terrific gale in the Bay of Biscay, and all on board, including Captain Braddock, who was in command, had a most anxious time. The gale at one time increased to hurricane force, great seas were shipped, and the vessel was dismasted. In her crippled state she managed to get back to Cardiff. Here further trouble arose, as a few days after her arrival typhoid fever broke out on board, which resulted in many deaths. As the vessel was placed in quarantine, repairs could not be effected until the Oxford was again a clean ship, consequently her final sailing was delayed until April 26, just three months after the disaster in the Bay of Biscay. During the passage further sickness developed, and the ship was once more placed in quarantine for several days on her arrival at Wellington, 88 days from Cardiff.

the Oxford brought over 300 passengers to Auckland in 1874, including Mr. and Mrs. Warrington and family of four, three of whom are still residing there; also Mr. E. Clay, formerly manager of the Kauri Timber Co. at Mercury Bay. The passages made to New Zealand were:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. June 11 Sep. 8, '74 Beaven 90 Nov. 29, '76 Mar. 1, '77 Vaux 93 Dec. 5, '80 Apr. 2, '81 Braddock 118 Dec. 1, '81 Mar. 10, '82 Braddock 98 To Wellington. Apr. 26, '83 July 23, '83 Braddock 88 To Dunedin. Nov. 25, '75 Feb. 10, '76 Vaux 77

When the Oxford arrived at Auckland in 1881 Captain Braddock accounted for the long voyage by stating that the ship encountered a severe gale off the Cape de Verde Islands, which blew with hurricane force, but she rode through the storm in admirable style. From this point light contrary winds were met with, and the Equator was not crossed until January 23, 49 days from sailing, during which the vessel's average speed was only 65 miles per 24 hours.

The Sam Mendel.

A Yacht-like Craft—Fifty Years Afloat—Many Stormy Passages.

the Sam Mendel was a handsome and exceedingly fast craft, but she did not keep up her reputation in many of her runs to New Zealand. During her earlier career she was engaged in the Indian and Australian trade, and made some remarkable passages from London to Melbourne. She was a beautiful ship from all points, iron built, with the lines of a yacht. She had a long bow, with the cleanest of entrances combined with good bearings, and a fine run that left but little dead water behind it. She was both taut and square of rig, with raking masts, and carried a great deal of canvas in her foretopgallants, the yards being particularly square, with corresponding hoist to the sails. She was a poop and topgallant-forecastle ship, of 1034 tons, and was built at West Hartlepool in 1861, by Messrs. Piles, Spence, and Co., the builders of the celebrated Undine and other clippers. Her owner was Mr. J. Coupland, of Liverpool, and she was chartered by the Shaw, Savill and Albion Co. After sailing the seas for nearly 50 years this famous clipper was sold to Sweden and renamed the Charlonus. She was later sold again, and her name chaged to Hanna. In 1908-9 she was condemned at Genoa, and broken up.

It has frequently been stated in the New Zealand Press that the Sam Mendel in 1876 made a record passage to Port Chalmers of 68 days. This is not correct. The fast passage was made in 1874, when she ran to Port Chalmers in 75 days, port to port, or 69 land to land. This, however, is not the record passage, which is still held by the ship Westland. Still it was the second fastest run to Port Chalmers up till 1874.

Her Seventy-Five Day Passage.

Touching the remarkable outward passage in 1874, Captain Hill reported having left London on May 9th. The ship was detained in the Channel by light westerly weather until May 14th, on which day she left the Lizard. After leaving the land she encountered a continuance of light and moderate westerly winds, and so was jammed away to the eastward, and had to pass between the Canary Islands and the mainland. On May 26th, when a little south of the Canaries she picked up the north-east trades, which were steady, and on June 5th she met the south-east trades. The equator was crossed on the following day. Westerly winds then found the ship and sent her bounding along under a press of canvas.

The ship ran her easting down in about the 47th parallel, and was due south of Cape Leeuwin on July 14th. Three days after that the breeze freshened to a tremendous gale from southwest, and raised a high and very confused sea. A great deal of water found its way on board, and the decks may be said to have been awash during the three days the gale lasted. The ship was kept before it under a press of sail, and on the whole made good weather of it. On July 22nd the high land of Stewart's Island was sighted, and the ship, having moderate westerly weather along the coast, reached Port Chalmers on July 23rd, 75 days port to port, or 69 days land to land.

Loses Some Spars.

Like many other ships the Sam Mendel experienced some stormy passages in the Southern Ocean. Her worst experience was in 1881, when she was partially dismasted during fearfully heavy weather. Captain Crowell, who was in command on this occasion, reported leaving London on June 3. All went well until August 4, when westerly gales set in, and on the 6th the ship met a very heavy gale attended by a furious sea, which broke on board, and washed away everything movable on deck. The wind veered to the N.W. on August 8, and blew with hurricane force, backing to N.N.E. on the 9th, and rapidly increasing again to a furious gale, accompanied by a most terrific sea. Early on August 10, a portion of her head-gear carried away, while the bowsprit (an iron one) broke off 6ft outside the knight-heads, falling under her starboard bow.

Shortly after this the wind suddenly shifted to the W.N.W., blowing with the force of a tornado, and attended with a very heavy cross sea, which caused the ship to roll heavily, and had the effect of breaking off the foremast two feet below the main deck. So furious was the gale that the port rigging had to be cut away in order to save the mainmast. At this time the vessel was in latitude 48 south, longitude 32.20 east, and afterwards she encountered a succession of heavy gales from N.W. to S.W., with high cross seas and cold weather, several large icebergs being passed. The weather moderated on September 12 in latitude 47.29 south, longitude 153.20 east. Still keeping fresh westerly winds, she passed and sighted the Snares on September 15.

the Sam Mendel had another rough experience on the voyage out to Auckland in 1882. Mr. H. Scott, now residing in Auckland, supplies the following details of the storms and mutiny. "Two days after leaving the docks, on October 23 and 24, when off Beachy Head, the ship encountered a gale of hurricane force, the like of which the captain said he had never experienced in the Channel. As the ship was

the Sam Mendel At Port Chalmers. short-handed, all the male passengers who were not sick assisted to work the vessel, which was at one time in serious danger. The sails were blown away, the cook's fire put out, and the decks washed by heavy seas. One sea which broke on board swept into the forecastle, breaking the sailors' chests and washing away their clothing. During the evening of the 24th the ship was thrown on her beam ends. The passengers were having a very sorry time, and the captain, mate, and some of the passengers were thrown on their backs. The water rushed into the cabins, across the floors and out of the flush-holes, and everything movable on deck and in the cabins was swimming in it. The gale subsided the following morning of the 25th, and the ship was righted. On the 26th the sailors mutinied and refused to go any further, as they considered the ship considerably undermanned. Eventually the captain compromised by offering to give the men full pay and a free discharge on their reaching Auckland. We had now been six days at sea, and still had 80 miles of the Channel to get through, but on the 27th a fair wind enabled us to clear it. The equator was crossed on November 21. On the 11th December another gale was encountered, and several sails blown away. On the 18th we passed some icebergs, one of which was about a mile in length and from 200ft to 300ft in height, and on the following day and night the bergs were seen all around us. They were of all shapes—of Gothic-like structure—some like a ship in full sail, and Castle Hill at Scarboro', with the old pier running out to sea, with the lighthouse; others like a colossal recumbent figure cut in purest marble, and some in the grey distance like the white cliffs of Dover. The bergs could be seen for a distance of 20 miles, and were a magnificent sight of incomparable beauty. When the ice was first observed we diverged from our course some 70 miles northward. On the 2nd January the Sam Mendel experienced another terrific gale, accompanied by heavy seas breaking on board. The water rushed into the cabins, and the ship was rolling very heavily, at one time the mainsail yardarm actually dipping into the water. Notwithstanding the gales encountered, the usual westerly winds in the Southern Ocean were generally light, but on one day the 'Sam' made a fine run covering 368 miles in 24 hours. On the 19th January we passed through Cook Straits, and after four days of calm we had a nice light breeze, travelling eight knots. Another ship which had been in sight for four days proved to be the Tythomus, from London to Auckland. She sailed ten days before the Sam Mendel, and arrived two days later. Further light winds, with calms, delayed our progress, and it was not until the 27th we sighted the Three Kings. There we were again becalmed until January 30. On the 1st February a nice light breeze carried us up the coast, and the 'Sam' anchored in the Waitemata on the 2nd."

the Sam Mendel again fell in for stormy weather when leaving London for Auckland in 1885. Captain Pearson reported that severe gales in the Channel detained him for 14 days, the land being cleared on the 16th February. A succession of gales continued until the vessel crossed the equator, and then light winds, the first westerly wind met with being after reaching Cape Leeuwin. The ship arrived at Auckland 127 days from docks.

Here follow the records of passages from London to New Zealand, port to port:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. May 31 Aug. 30, '76 Steel 90 May 28 Sep. 16, '77 Steel 106 Mar. 19 June 15, '80 Cummings 88 Oct. 21, '82 Feb. 1, '83 Pearson 102 Feb. 2 June 10, '85 Pearson 127 To Port Chalmers. May 9 July 23, '74 Hills 75 Land to land 69 June 3 Sep. 19, '81 Crowell 107

The Antares.

the Antares, a barque of 821 tons, chartered by the Shaw, Savill Co., made several voyages to Auckland, and occasionally visited Wellington, Lyttelton, and Dunedin. She was built in 1875 at Sunderland and owned by R. H. Penney. Captain A. Lewis was given command of the barque when she was launched and sailed her for nine years.

On the voyage out to Auckland in 1882 Captain Lewis reported having encountered two very severe gales after passing the 75th degree of east longitude, during which the Aurora Australis was extraordinarily vivid, extending far north of the zenith like full, flickering flames.

On the passage to Auckland in 1894 the ship left Sharpness on 20th February, heavily laden. She had a fairly good run until June 6, when she was hove-to for 48 hours under the lower main topsail during a terrific gale, accompanied by mountainous seas, with thunder and lightning. During the storm seas broke over the ship, sweeping everything off the decks and causing great damage.

On another occasion, in 1879, the Antares sailed from London for Dunedin, and had a very severe buffeting in the Channel, during which she suffered considerable damage, and was compelled to put into Dungenness for repairs.

The passages made to New Zealand were:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. July 30, '81 Nov. 16, '81 Lewis 109 Aug. 30 Dec. 9, 82 Lewis 99 Aug. 10, '83 Nov. 21, '83 Lewis 103 June 16, '84 Sep. 21, '84 Lewis 97 Feb. 20, '94 June 16, 94 Hutchison 116 To Wellington. July 18, '78 Oct. 17, '78 Lewis 91 Sep. 16, '80 Jan. 12, '81 Lewis 118 To Dunedin. May 31 Sep. 4, '79 Lewis 96 To Lyttelton. Oct. 23, '77 Jan. 24, '78 Lewis 93

Another ship, of 1060 tons, by the same name, flying the German flag, arrived at Dunedin on September 23, 1900, from Hamburg, 109 days out.

the Cospatrick Tragedy.

Burnt at Sea: 470 lives lost—Survivors' Story.

A terrible disaster that caused a thrill of horror throughout the Empire and particularly in Auckland, for which port the vessel was bound, was the burning of the emigrant ship Cospatrick, 1220 tons, west by south of Cape of Good Hope on November 17, 1874. There were 473 souls aboard, and only three survived. It was at midnight that the fire broke out in the forepart of the ship, which was then several hundred miles from land. In spite of heroic

The Ill-Fated Ship Cospatrick.This fine teak-built ship left England with over 400 emigrants, mostly farm labourers, bound for Auckland, and was burned off the Cape of Good Hope, only three men being saved. efforts, the crew and passengers could make no headway against the flames, and the ship having lost steerage way, got her head to the wind, and the fire quickly ran aft, hampering the work of getting out the boats. The first boats lowered were sunk, and only two boats kept afloat. A gale sprang up on the 21st, and one was never heard of again. The other, the port lifeboat, with 41 persons—all men—aboard, saw the ship sink on the 19th and all those that remained on board drowned before their eyes. The master, Captain Elmslie, threw his wife and little child into the sea, and he himself followed when he saw it was hopeless. After drifting about for ten days the port lifeboat was picked up by the ship British Sceptre. All but five died of hunger, thirst and exposure. Some went mad before death came. Two of the five died on board the British Sceptre. The second mate, the quartermaster, and a lad were all that survived that awful holocaust.

The mate, Mr. Henry McDonald, one of the survivors, when he reached England, at an inquiry held, stated:—"I was aroused from sleep by the cry of 'Fire!' Rushing on deck I found dense clouds of smoke were issuing from the fore peak. The bo-sun's locker, full of oakum, rope, varnish, and paint, was ablaze. The fire engine was rigged, and soon the forepart of the ship was deluged with water. They had already got her head before the wind, but presently, by some extraordinary mischance, and one that was never explained, she came head to the wind; and then the smoke was driven aft in suffocating clouds. Flames burst out 'tween decks, and in an hour and a-half the Cospatrick was doomed. Dreadful scenes followed, for a panic broke out among the emigrants. One boat was launched, but was immediately swamped by the crowd of demented men and women that jumped into it. The long boat caught fire; and in the end only two boats got away safely—the port and the starboard lifeboats. They stood off, and helpless to assist, watched the tragedy to the bitter end. The main and mizzen masts fell, and many of those who had crowded aft were crushed

Captain Elmsley And Survivors.Edward Cotter. Mrs. Elmslie. Thomas Lewis. Master Elmslie. Henry McDonald. Captain A. Elmslie. to death. Then the stern was blown out. That was the end, and the shrieks of the survivors were silenced suddenly in the roaring flames.

Terrible Suffering.

The condition of those who had escaped in the boats was well nigh desperate. Had they known what was in store for them doubtless most of them would have preferred a more merciful death on the burning ship. They had neither water, food, masts, nor sails; and in the starboard lifeboat they had but one oar. "The two boats kept company on the 20th and 21st November," said McDonald at the inquiry; "then it commenced to blow, and we got separated. I whistled and shouted when daylight came, but could see nothing of the other boat. Thirst began to tell severely on all of us. Bentley, who was steering, fell overboard and was drowned. Three men became mad that day, and died. We threw the bodies overboard.

"On the 24th four men died. On the 25th we were reduced to eight, and three of them were out of their minds. Early on the morning of the 26th a boat passed close to us. She was not more than 50 yards away. She was a foreigner. We hailed but got no answer. I think she must have heard us. One more died that day. On the 27th it was squally all round, but we never caught a drop of water, though we tried to. Two more died that day. We threw one overboard, but we were too weak to lift the other. There were then five of us left—two able seamen, one ordinary, and one passenger, and myself. The passenger was out of his mind. All drank sea water. We were dozing when the madman bit my foot. I woke up. We then saw a ship hearing down upon us. It proved to be the British Sceptre, from Calcutta to Dundee. We were taken on board and treated very kindly. I got very bad on board of her. I was very nigh death's door. We had not recovered when we got to St. Helena."

While some people have remarkable memories for events connected with the ships they travelled on in their youth, other people are woefully astray in their ideas. As I mentioned once before, people on the same vessel will vary in an astonishing manner as to names, times and places, and what happened on the voyage. All they remember is that they came out in such and such a ship. Mr. J. Barr, the librarian at Auckland, tells me that many old people applying for the old age pension have applied to him for the date of the arrival of their ships, so that they could give satisfactory evidence as to age and date of arrival in New Zealand. One of the oddest cases connected with the obtaining of an old age pension, and a queer twist of memory as to the ship, was told me by Mr. Hubert Baillie, of the Wellington Public Library. He says he once had an inquiry from one of the smaller towns as to the date of the loss of the Cospatrick, "as he wished to assist an old lady who was trying to obtain her pension, but could not place the date of her arrival, except that she was one of the survivors of that ill-fated ship!" This is a rather remarkable instance of a person imagining that she took part in a tragedy—a phenomenon not unknown to scientists. The solution is probably given in a letter I received from a correspondent. He writes:—

"While reading over your article in the "Auckland Star", a lady friend came in, to whom I mentioned the story of the lady who thought she had come out on the Cospatrick. My friend mentioned that when in Timaru in the late 70's she had met some ladies named O'Rourke, whose boxes (they had not long arrived from England) were marked passengers by Cospatrick.' It appeared that these ladies had booked passage on the Cospatrick, but by some means were prevented from shipping in that ill-fated boat, and came out by another ship; and were congratulating themselves on having been so stopped. Is it not possible that the lady you mention, or her friends, may have been misled by a similar inscription, which with the lapse of time may now be taken for fact?"

the Cospatrick visited New Zealand on one other occasion only. The previous year, with Captain Elmslie in command, she left London on March 20, and arrived at Dunedin on July 6, 1873, making the passage in 108 days from the docks.

The Caduceus.

the Caduceus, a fine roomy ship of over one thousand tons, was one of the first vessels chartered by the Shaw, Savill Co. She was a frequent visitor to Auckland, and brought out a large number of settlers. Nothing of an eventful nature occurred on any of the voyages, with the exception that she experienced a very severe gale in the English Channel and had to put into Spithead for three days when bound for Auckland in 1870. She sailed finally on December 21, and had a favourable run out. On this occasion she was in command of Captain D. T. Roberts, who had made previous visits to Auckland in the Maori. the Caduceus did not run to any of the Southern ports. She made five voyages to Auckland as under:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Feb. 13 May 19, '59 Cass 95 June 23 Oct. 12, '60 Cass 112 Nov. 30, '64 Mar. 2, '65 Holton 92 Dec. 16, '70 Mar. 23, '71 Roberts 97 Oct. 18, '71 Feb. 2, '72 Roberts 106

The Invercargill.

Tom Bowling's Old Command

During the year 1874 the celebrated builder Robert Duncan built six remarkably fine ships—the Invercargill, Auckland, Wellington, Canterbury, Nelson, and Dunedin—to the order of Patrick Henderson, for the New Zealand trade. They were all launched within six months, and the tonnage (1265), length, beam and depth were about the same. These ships were fitted up with every modern convenience and comfort for first-claas passengers and immigrants. They all sailed under the Albion Company's flag until the Albion and Shaw

The Invercargill. Savill Companies amalgamated, and they were some of the fastest sailers afloat.

the Invercargill made her maiden voyage to Otago in command of Captain Tilly. Leaving Glasgow with 390 passengers on July 16, 1874, she sighted Cape Saunders on October 12, and anchored at Port Chalmers on October 14 after an uneventful passage of 90 days port to port. The following year the ship, under Captain Peacock, made the passage in exactly the same number of days. On her return to England Captain Muir, one of the most capable men afloat, was given command.

As the Invercargill usually carried from 350 to 400 passengers, Captain Muir did not usually go so far south as some other skippers when running down his easting, as he preferred to study the comfort of his passengers, but he made many excellent runs, and on one occasion arrived at Port Chalmers in 79 days from the London docks, or 76 days land to land, Captain Muir ran the ship for nearly twenty years, and never met with any serious accident.

Under Tom Bowling.

In 1892 Captain Tom Bowling, who had been in the service of the Shaw, Savill Company for many years, in command of the Akaroa and other ships, relieved Captain Muir. Captain Bowling was a fearless and experienced sailor. He had the reputation of carrying on, but not recklessly, when opportunity offered. He remained in the ship until she was sold in 1905 to Norway, and made some excellent runs out and home. At this time he had been 50 years at sea, and eventually came out to the Domi-nionDominion and settled down at Christchurch, where he is still living, and enjoying fairly good health.

In 1892 the Invercargill sailed from London on October 7, the Downs on the 11th, and passed the Lizard on the 13th; crossed the Line on November 7, and the meridian of the Cape on the 30th of the same month, 48 days from the Lizard. She made a good run of 20 days to the south of Tasmania, and six days later passed Cape Farewell, arriving at Wellington on December 27, 77 days from the Downs and 73 land to land.

During the passage to Wellington in 1896 the ship encountered a fierce gale carrying away topgallant bulwarks and rail, flooding the decks and doing other damage. She was detained by strong northerly winds between Tasmania and New Zealand, thus retarding what would have been another rapid passage.

During 1893 very little cargo was offering in London, and the Invercargill, with other ships, was sent out in ballast to secure a cargo. the Invercargill arrived at Timaru, 93 days on the passage, and loaded wool and wheat.

Washed Overboard.

Captain Bowling had a rather tedious and anxious time during the passage home in 1901 (the year of King Edward's coronation). The ship experienced very light northerly winds after leaving the coast, and took 53 days to Cape Horn, where she struck a furious gale, during which she broached to, and heavy seas broke on board, doing great damage.

When off Birdwood Bank, in the vicinity of the Falkland Islands, the ship experienced another heavy gale, during which the second officer was washed overboard and drowned. On this occasion the ship had been 130 days out when she reached the Channel. Fears were entertained that she had been lost, and she was reinsured at high rates.

Another Stormy Voyage.

The biggest gale of Captain Bowling's experience, writes Mr. Basil Lubbock, in his book "Colonial Clippers," was in 1904. The ship sailed from Sydney on August 27, loaded with wheat for Queenstown. Caught in a Cape Horn snorter, her cargo shifted to port, her port bulwarks were carried away, and for some time she lay on her beam ends. Eventually she righted and continued her passage, but on December 8, in the Atlantic, she again ran into heavy weather, during which a huge mountain of water broke over the port quarter and swept the decks the whole length of her. The water flooded below, breaking into the saloon and cabins, the sail locker, the lazarette, and even into the 'tween decks; the companion hatch on the poop was carried away, and along with it went both compasses, stands, and binnacles, side lights and screens, the patent log from the taffrail—in fact, pretty nearly everything on the decks except the wheel.

All hands worked hard in bailing out the water from below, which was up to one's waist in the cabin. During the night the ship was rolling heavily as she ran before the gale. Early the next morning a big sea washed out the carpenter's quarters, and "Chips," under the impression that the ship was sinking by the head, made the best of his way aft. Captain Bowling and his officers were all below clearing up the wrecked cabin. The carpenter thereupon informed the man at the wheel of his fears, with, the result that the latter had an attack of nerves, thought he was running the ship under, and allowed her to come-to.

On Her Beam Ends.

As the ship broached to, the cargo again shifted, and the Invercargill went over on her beam ends. Many of the sails blew adrift, and the lifeboat was swept away, Then, when the ship lay down with her lee foreyard arm dipped 6ft into the broken water, the seas worked havoc on the flooded main deck. Daylight disclosed that nearly everything had been washed overboard. All that day and the next night the ship lay like a log with her lee rail buried deep and her main deck full of water. On the morning of the 10th, when the wind dropped, cargo was jettisoned to bring the ship on an even keel, and at last she was got away on her course.

Saved the Ship.

The next difficulty was making a landfall without a reliable compass, as only an old compass which had not been adjusted was available. In spite of a large allowance made for his defective compass, Captain Bowling found himself nearly ashore amongst the Scilly Isles, but his fine seamanship, says Mr. Lubbock, saved the vessel, and on December 18 he brought her safely into Queenstown, 113 days from Sydney.

The ship was towed round to the Clyde and repaired. She was sold to Norway in 1905, and left Glasgow for Christiana to load lumber for Melbourne, but she never reached her destination. She left the Clyde on February 20 with a part cargo of coal, and the general opinion was that she had capsized and sunk, as it was thought in Glasgow that she had not sufficient ballast for a winter passage. Before sailing the ship was renamed the Verg.

Here follow the records of the ship's passages to New Zealand:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Aug. 12 Nov. 19, '89 Muir 99 To Wellington. Nov. 21, '83 Feb. 20, '84 Muir 91 Dec. 4, '85 Mar. 2, '86 Muir 88 Oct. 30, '86 Feb. 4, '87 Muir 97 Oct. 15, '87 Jan. 2, '88 Muir 79 Land to land 76 Sep. 3 Dec. 10, '88 Muir 98 Oct. 7 Dec. 27, '92 Bowling 81 Land to land 73 Aug. 12 Nov. 13, '96 Bowling 93 To Lyttelton. Nov. 29, '84 Mar. 16, '85 Muir 108 July 20 Oct. 13, '94 Bowling 74 To Timaru. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Aug. 31 Dec. 4, '93 Bowling 93 June 18 Sep. 16, '98 Bowling 90 To Port Chalmers. July 16 Oct. 14, '74 Tilly 90 July 1 Sep. 30, '75 Peacock 87 Land to land 78 June 24 Sep. 24, '76 Muir 92 Land to land 86 May 20 Aug. 17, '77 Muir 89 Land to land 82 July 12 Oct. 2, '78 Muir 82 July 4 Sep. 27, '79 Muir 85 Land to land 78 May 11 July 30, '80 Muir 80 Land to land 76 Feb. 18 May 18, '81 Muir 88 Feb. 16 May 12, '82 Muir 84 Dec. 5, '82 Mar. 1, '83 Muir 85 Nov. 7, '90 Feb. 6, '91 Muir 90 Oct. 8, '91 Jan. 12, '92 Bowling 96 Land to land 77 Aug. 21 Nov. 22, '97 Bowling 93 Sep. 9 Dec. 8, '99 Bowling 92

The Wild Duck.

the Wild Duck, chartered in the sixties by the Shaw, Savill Co., was a full-rigged ship of 737 tons. She ran almost exclusively to Wellington under Captain Bishop, but made one voyage each to Auckland and Nelson. The vessel had a narrow escape of coming to grief at Timaru in 1871 when in command of Captain Baillie. She sailed from London to Nelson direct on this occasion, and then proceeded to Timaru to land cylinders and other material for the Timaru and Gladstone Board of Works. She had discharged all her cargo with the exception of a few cylinders. A heavy gale came on, and in beating out she lost two staysails and the foretopsail. As the vessel was flying very light, having neither ballast nor cargo on board, Captain Baillie at one time thought she would turn turtle, and considered the desirability of beaching her. She, however, eventually got clear, and sustained no further damage.

In 1866 the Wild Duck sailed from London on August 20. Cholera broke out on board, and Captain Bishop put back to Plymouth on the 27th. The ship sailed again on September 10, making the passage in 89 days.

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Dec. 9, '71 Apr. 3, 72 Baillie 116 To Wellington. Oct. 15, '59 Jan. 28, '60 Bishop 105 Oct. 1, '60 Jan. 15, '61 Bishop 106 Sep. 9, '61 Dec. 31, '62 Bishop 113 Sep. 28, '63 Jan. 8, '64 Bishop 102 Oct. 6, '64 Jan. 19, '65 Bishop 105 Sep. 4, '65 Dec. 26, '65 Bishop 112 Aug. 20, '66 Dec. 8, '66 Bishop 103 Sep. 9, 67 Dec. 20, '67 Bishop 102 Oct. 1, '68 Jan. 5, '69 Bishop 96 Oct. 3, '69 Jan. 21, '70 Smith 110 — May 20, '73 Baillie 101 To Nelson. — Feb. 4, '71 Baillie 94

Loss Of The St. Leonards.

Immigrant Ship Tragedy—Sank in Nine Minutes—Popular Captain Todd.

There were many tragedies in the old sailing ship days, when a journey from the Old Land to the New was a matter of some adventure, but probably one of the swiftest was that which overtook the ship Saint Leonards with 62 souls aboard, soon after she had left London on the long voyage to New Zealand. She was a well-known visitor to the colony, and both she and her master (Captain Richard Todd) were particularly popular in the trade. An iron ship, built by Pile, Hay and Co., at Sunderland in 1864, for the Shaw, Savill Company, she was employed in the New Zealand trade between 1873 and 1882, making during that time many voyages from England. It was in 1883 that she met with disaster. From the outset the voyage was unlucky. She first left the docks on August 31, but was caught in a terrible storm a few days later, and had to put back with a sprung bowsprit and other injuries that took ten days to repair. It was not until the 13th of September that she set sail again. Captain Todd was in command of a crew of 29 all told, his officers being Mr. Broadway, first, and Mr. Allsop, second. Everything went well until the 17th, when the ship was about eighteen miles east of Start Point.

Mate's Thrilling Story.

"The ship had all sail set, and at eight a.m., when my watch expired, she was going about two and a-half knots before a fair wind," said the chief officer, Mr. Broadway, in giving an account of what happened on that fateful voyage. "The weather had turned foggy, so that you could not see more than 200 yards before you.

"I don't know which of us noticed it first, but all of a sudden I saw a steamer on the port side, apparently only about a hundred yards off, and coming straight into us. The pilot roared 'full speed astern,' and someone on board the steamer replied 'full speed astern it is.' By this time she was nearly upon us, and the pilot, seeing a collision was inevitable, gave the order 'port helm.' This brought our captain on deck. He, too, realised that a bad smash could not be averted, and told us to lower the boats. The steamer then struck us amidships, crunching through the side of the Saint Leonards as if she was a bonnet box.

A Doomed Ship.

"There seemed to be hardly any shock; in fact, those below said they didn't at first think anything serious had happened. We, however, knew the vessel would go to the bottom in a few minutes, and no time was lost lowering the boats and getting the passengers—first the women and children, and then the men—into them. The Cormorant (for that was the steamer's name) recoiled after striking us, but she immediately came and stood-by, throwing a rope aboard, by means of which most of our crew clambered into her. Everybody behaved extremely well. There appeared to be no hurry or panic, yet the loading of the boats was managed remarkably quickly.

"Between eight and nine minutes after the collision the last man, (Captain Todd) left the ship, and within a few seconds the Saint Leonards plunged, prow foremost, into the sea and disappeared. She had all sail set, which made the sight even more remarkable and impressive. The air in the saloon exploded with a loud noise that made some think the gunpowder aboard had been got at; and the sea was covered with wreckage, live stock and luggage. The Cormorant steamed for Dartmouth, after making sure all the human beings, a total of 62, belonging to the Saint Leonards, were safe aboard, and landed us there at noon."

High Praise.

A great sensation was caused by the tragedy of the Saint Leonards, and the London "Standard" commenting on the saving of all hands, said "Englishmen may all read with a feeling of pride the account of the coolness and presence of mind displayed alike by officers, crew, and passengers. The quickness with which the boats were lowered is in strong contrast to the delay and bungling that have occurred in two or three collisions during the last few months. The saving of the people of the Saint Leonards may be cited as a model of what should take place on such an occasion; calmness and coolness prevailing, the boats being rapidly lowered, first the passengers and then the crew, and lastly the captain taking their places in them, and they row off just as the ship goes down. High credit is due to all concerned."

First Visit to Auckland.

Upon her first visit to Auckland forty years ago the Saint Leonards was commanded by Captain Petherbridge, and on that occasion she had among her passengers Mr. S. Philpott, now with Jagger and Harvey, ship chandlers, Auckland, as head of their sail-making department. He came out with his parents. On that voyage Mr. Tom Bowling, afterwards in command of the Invercargill and other ships, was the chief officer of the Saint Leonards, and the second officer was Mr. McDonald, who was in the Ben Venue when she was wrecked at Timaru, and was one of the only three survivors from the Cospatrick

The St. Leonard's in the river thames. when she was burned off Cape of Good Hope.

After the loss of the St. Leonards, Captain Todd took command of the Northumberland. Nearly, if not all, the officers and crew of the St. Leonards shipped again with Captain Todd on this ship. Among them was a young man named Wilson, who came of a seafaring family. His kit was packed in a sea chest which had accompanied his father and grandfather round the world some seven or eight times, and was regarded by Wilson as a sort of heirloom. Weeks after the St. Leonards went down this chest, almost the only salvage, by the way, was cast up on the French coast. The authorities of the French town near which it was cast up were able to ascertain the name of the owner's people. A few days before Wilson left his home again to join the Northumberland they received the chest and a very sympathetic letter from the mayor of the town, and the chest was still in a sufficiently sound condition to be used for its original purpose, and accompanied its owner on the Northumberland.

Following is the list of the voyages made by the Saint Leonards from London to New Zealand:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. June 19 Sep. 26, '73 Petherbridge 98 To Wellington. June 3 Sep. 2, '74 Todd 91 Aug. 6 Nov. 12, '75 Todd 98 Nov. 2, '76 Todd 102 July 30 Nov. 5, '77 Todd 97 June 27 Sep. 30, '78 Todd 95 June 10 Sep. 27, '79 Todd 91 May 23 Aug. 22, '80 Todd 90 To Lyttelton. June 22 Sep. 23 '72 Petherbridge 93 Apr. 15 July 29, '81 Todd 105 Jan. 4 Apr. 23, '82 Todd 109

Captain Richard Todd.

A Popular Shipmaster.

Long Resident Of Napier.

The Captain Todd, whose coolness and resource during the collision enhanced his already fine reputation, was very well known in New Zealand, to which colony he had brought so many people from the Old Land, He always had a liking for this Britain of the South, and when his time came to retire from the sea he made his home here. Born

Captain Richard Todd. at Dundee, Scotland, in 1845, he went to sea as a boy, and his first voyage was to China on a ship carrying troops His first visit to New Zealand was as chief officer of the Asterope, in the middle 70's, and when next he arrived in these waters he was chief officer of a small barque called the Malay, of which he took command when the master (Captain Peters) was promoted to a larger vessel.

His next command was the Saint Leonards, in which he made many voyages to New Zealand, bringing out a large number of immigrants. His last ship was the Northumberland, a well-known trader to the colony, which met an untimely end at Napier in 1887, being cast ashore during a furious storm that did much damage in the Bay. Oddly enough neither on the Saint Leonards nor the Northumberland was there any loss of life. Three men were drowned when the Northumberland was cast away, but they belonged to a little steamer called the Boojum that went to the assistance of the sailing ship.

After the loss of the Northumberland Captain Todd came ashore and settled down at Napier, and five months after the wreck of the Northumberland Captain Todd was appointed marine superintendent of the Colonial Union Shipping Company. In 1889 the name of the company was changed to the Tyser Line, Captain Todd remaining with the company as marine superintendent. In 1893 he was appointed colonial superintendent of the line, which in 1913 had its name changed to the Commonwealth and Dominion Line. When this last change was made Captain Todd, in addition to being colonial superintendent, became a director of the company. The head office had always been at Napier, but on the death of Captain Todd in 1916 it was transferred to Wellington.

Captain Todd was a man of sound common sense, and of a most marked personality. He was a well-read man, and had all the qualities that one associates with the true-hearted, frank sailor. He was a great favourite with the many passengers he carried, and during his long residence in Napier he made many firm friends. He was a good man of business, and his London principals often had to thank the day they appointed him their representative in Napier, where he attracted a large amount of business for their ships.

Captain Todd was 71 when he died His wife pre-deceased him by some two years. He had three sons and one daughter.

The Canterbury.

Fast Craft of the '70's—Made 22 Trips to New Zealand.

the Canterbury, a beautiful clipper ship of 1242 tons, built in 1874 for Patrick Henderson by Robert Duncan, sailed the seas for many years, and during the 'seventies and 'eighties brought thousands of immigrants to New Zealand. She was one of the fastest sailers and most comfortable ships afloat,

The Clipper Canterbury. and made some remarkable runs both out and Home. In 1881 she ran from Glasgow to Port Chalmers in 76 days port to port. Most of the voyages were made after Patrick Henderson amalgamated with the Shaw, Savill Co. the Canterbury was exceptionally fortunate in avoiding the heavy gales usually met with in the Southern Ocean. She made twenty-two voyages out, and it was only on the last two passages that she suffered any serious damage.

Terrific Gale Encountered.

On the first of these runs to Otago under Captain Collingwood, who had been transferred from the Margaret Galbraith to the Canterbury, the ship left London on September 9, and did not clear the land until eight days later. The equator was crossed on the 15th October. On the 19th, when travelling at 10 knots, an apprentice fell from aloft overboard. The ship was immediately hove aback, a boat lowered, and in less than half an hour the youth was on board again. The Cape was rounded on the 6th November, and on the 27th the ship met with a terrific gale from the south-west, with mountainous seas. The vessel was hove-to for several hours, during which immense quantities of water were shipped, the vessel rolling and straining heavily and endangering all the fixtures about the decks. One sea broke on board and washed away the solid teak rail on the forecastle, and did other serious damage. Thence the ship had moderate weather to the Snares, which were made on the 9th December. Light and variable winds carried the ship to anchorage on the 19th December.

Captain Collingwood had another stormy passage when bound from Glasgow to Port Chalmers the following year, and this was the second passage in which the ship had exceeded 100 days to Dunedin. the Canterbury made some rapid passages home, and on one occasion is credited with a run of 69 days port to port.

the Canterbury was sold to Norway in 1905, and was still afloat in 1915.

Voyaging In 1877.

Some very interesting details concerning the passage of the Canterbury from Glasgow to Port Chalmers in 1877 are given in a letter I received from Mr. Andrew Gray, of Messrs. Gray and Cockroft, Auckland, who came out on that occasion, he being then a lad of twelve. Mr. Gray speaks very affectionately of the old ship, and as an instance of the deep impression made upon travellers by the old sailing ships as compared with the very sketchy impressions that one gathers in a trip in these days of steam and speed, it is interesting to know that he retains a most vivid recollection of what happened, and of the fascination of the shipboard life.

Even in those days cargo-broaching was known and Mr. Gray tells of a steward that awakened the suspicions of the chief from the fact that he always carried the slop bucket forward to be emptied. One day the chief made an investigation, and snugly lying in the bottom of the bucket was a bottle of grog that the steward had purloined from the lazarette. Put in irons, confined for two days, and then degraded to "brass man," was the punishment of the steward, and an apprentice was mastheaded on a charge of being accessory before the act, but at the solicitations of the passengers was pardoned by Captain Leslie.

Washed Off The Poop.

South of the Cape the ship was pooped by a following sea which so frightened two nursemaids that they clung to the wheel and made it impossible for the quartermaster to trim the helm to meet the situation. One boy was found under the hencoop, and young Gray was thought to have been washed overboard, until they found him in the single girls' quarters where he had been washed from the poop via the deck as far as the mainmast and aft again.

Owing to the stopping of the condenser the emigrants were, against the doctor's advice, put on cask water brought from Home, and the result was that there was an outbreak of fever and several lives were lost, so that when Port Chalmers was reached quarantine was ordered for two months; from which, so Mr. Gray understood, some of the men escaped by swimming ashore.

On this voyage the first mate was Mr. McMillan (afterwards captain) and Mr. Gray recalls a sailor's joke that caused much amusement. The single girls were quartered apart, and the sailors were not supposed to converse with them. One day a sailor dressed up a mop to resemble one of the crew and placed it so that it looked like a man talking to the girls, through the iron grating of the hatch. The sedate mate scented some fun, and collecting the saloon passengers that happened to be promenading the deck he quietly went to the break of the poop and dashed a bucket of water over the supposed Romeo. Of course the watch and the girls howled with delight when the mate discovered that he had been nicely "sold."

Among the saloon passengers was one that used to report the exchange of notes between the sailors and these so-carefully-guarded damsels, and of course she earned the cordial hatred of every jack-tar and girl aboard.

Random Memories.

Some of the other fragmentary but illuminating memories of Mr. Gray include two days among the icebergs; a parakeet that flew on board far from land; the fun of being allowed to keep watch with the second mate (Mr. Tom Dunlop) and of the dire trouble that arose from striking one bell too many one morning and rousing the captain too early by half an hour; the old emigrant that used to wear a tall hat and frock coat to the church service held round the windlass over which was draped the Union Jack; and the woman that smoked in bed and set the bedding alight one night in the single girls' quarters. There were lots of other incidents that could not to-day be duplicated—travel has changed so much since 1877—but sufficient has been said to show that shipboard life in the days of sail was not quite so monotonous as some people seem to think.

The saloon passengers on this trip were Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Melville and family, who resided for many years in Auckland, Mr. and Mrs. Macauley, of Totara South, Oamaru, Mr. and Mrs. Gray and family, Mr. Ford, who was Mr. Andrew Gray's tutor, another young man, and the nursemaids.

Here follow the record of the passages made outwards:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Oct. 20, '89 Jan. 21, '90 McMillan 93 To Wellington. July 31 Oct. 25, '85 McMillan 86 June 1 Sep. 13, '86 McMillan 104 Oct. 19 Jan. 23, '98 Culbert 96 Oct. 11, '01 Feb. 21, '02 Collingwood 134 To Lyttelton. June 6 Sep. 2, '74 Strachan 87 Aug. 2 Nov. 2, '84 McMillan 91 To Port Chalmers. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Sep. 1 Nov. 19, '75 Anderson 79 Sep. 28 Dec. 29, '77 Leslie 92 *Nov 3, '80 Jan. 19, '81 Leslie 76½ Sep. 30 Dec. 16, '81 McMillan 76 Land to land 73 Sep. 21 Dec. 11, '82 McMillan 81 Land to land 78 Aug. 8 Nov. 2, '83 McMillan 86 Land to land 77 Aug. 31 Dec. 1, '88 McMillan 92 Oct. 7, '90 Jan. 9, '91 Culbert 91 Sep. 2 Dec. 12, '91 Culbert 99 Oct. 11 Dec. 31, '92 Culbert 79 Land to land 75 Oct. 12, '94 Jan. 8, '95 Culbert 88 Oct. 16, '96 Jan. 8, '97 Culbert 83 Sep. 9 Dec. 17, '98 Collingwood 99 Sep. 2 Dec. 12, '99 Collingwood 110 To Napier. †Aug. 28 Dec. 24, '95 Culbert 117

During the run through the Southern Ocean the ship averaged 240 miles daily.

Via Taiaroa Heads and Lyttelton for orders.

This ship must not be confused with the ship Canterbury, a vessel of 970 tons, which was launched in 1857 and christened by Lady Lyttelton. The ceremony took place at a public break-fast given at the East India Docks to the main portion of the Canterbury settlers. The ship arrived at Lyttelton on August 19, 1857.

The Nuggets Lighthouse, Otago.

The Halcione.

Wrecked at Wellington Heads.

the Halcione, one of the first iron full-rigged ships built for the Shaw, Savill Company, in 1869, completed twenty-six voyages to Auckland, Wellington, Lyttelton, Nelson, Bluff, and Napier; and after making a good run of 89 days to Wellington Heads, on her eighteenth passage out, was totally wrecked.

the Halcione was never a flyer, but she made more than average runs. In 1886 she made the Bluff in 87 days, under Captain Parker. She also ran to Wellington, under Captain Bishop on three occasions in 87 days. The ship was built specially for the New Zealand

The Halcione. trade by Steele, of Greenock; her tonnage being 843. In 1888 the vessel's rig was changed to that of a barque.

On the voyage to Napier in 1874, while off Erith, in shipping the gangway it caught the water, precipitating the second officer, the carpenter, and a seaman into the water. Another sailor bravely dived, with a buoy, and rescued the two former, the latter being drowned. On May 31 Captain Bishop died from apoplexy, being found dead in bed, and the first officer, Mr. Croker, brought the ship to Napier. the Halcione landed 337 immigrants.

the Halcione came to grief in attempting to enter the port of Wellington on January 8, 1896, during a stormy night, and the captain and crew had a narrow escape of their lives. At the time of the wreck the ship was under the command of Captain Boorman, the chief officer being Mr. Joynt, of Christchurch. Captain Boorman had previously commanded the Lady Jocelyn, Lyttelton, Euterpe, Akaroa, and Oamaru, and was a skilful and popular commander. The day the disaster occurred the Halcione had come through Cook Straits with a fresh northerly wind, and was standing off about two miles from a little to the eastward of the entrance to the harbour, when suddenly the wind swept round to the south, blowing hard, with flashes of lightning. When the wind shifted, Captain Boorman wore ship and stood for the harbour. On nearing the heads the weather was so thick that only a few feet ahead could be seen. At 10.30, when the storm was at its height, and when the lightning was almost continuous, the discovery was made that the vessel was in dangerous proximity to the shore. Pencarrow Light, which had been obscured for some time, was loom-inglooming right ahead. An effort was made to extricate the ship, but owing to the gale increasing it was impossible to get her off the land. Soon after she struck with such force that a tremendous hole was made in her forefoot, through which the water rushed in at an alarming rate. The point where she struck was one of the three rocky points at the head of Fitzroy Bay, situated between Pencarrow Heads, where the lighthouse is situated, and Baring Heads. A boat was lowered with considerable difficulty, and the chief officer and five of the crew reached Wellington and reported the disaster.

The steamer Mana, having on board Captain Bendall, secretary of the Underwriters' Association, was despatched as soon as possible, and when they reached the ship they found her full of water, with heavy seas breaking over her—a hopeless wreck. The vessel was standing upright with her sails still set—the crew having had no time to furl them. A second boat, containing the captain and remainder of the crew, was successfully launched, but on nearing the shore it was smashed against the rocks. All the occupants were thrown into the water, but managed with great difficulty to scramble ashore safely. They walked four miles to a small bay on the harbour side of Pencarrow Lighthouse, where they were picked up by the steamer Mana. Captain Boorman rescued the ship's papers, which he fastened to his waist. Two days later the Halcione had disappeared altogether, the heavy grinding on the rocks having torn the bottom out of her. The shore, for a considerable distance was strewn with over seven hundred tons of valuable cargo and wreckage. The crew saved only what they stood up in. During the following week, on the 10th January, an inquiry was held into the wreck, and the Court found that the accident was caused through stress of weather, without any neglect or default on the part of the captain and crew.

A curious coincidence relating to the wreck of the Halcione has been sent to me by a correspondent in Wellington. The writer, who came out in the ship from England on her first voyage, in 1869, writes:—

"Captain Bishop, who had made some fifteen voyages to Wellington in the old Wild Duck, was given command of the Halcione on her maiden trip to Wellington. The ship sailed well enough on a following wind, but nothing would induce her to 'stay' when beating to windward—whenever a head wind was met with on the voyage it was always a case of 'wear ship.'

"On arriving off Wellington Heads on September 1, 1869, a north-westerly breeze was blowing, and when the pilot came on board he had a look round the ship and then said to the captain, 'Well Bishop, how does she stay?' 'Like a bird,' said Bishop. 'Well,' said the pilot, 'we will beat her up the entrance and show what a new iron clipper can do.'

"Under topsails and courses the ship on her first tack stood straight for Pencarrow lighthouse, and when about half a mile away was put about, but instead of staying, she, as usual, paid off and wore round, and as she did so her head passed within a stone's throw of the rocks to seaward of the lighthouse. The pilot's language was lurid, and as the gale was increasing, he had his boat and crew hoisted on board, squared the yards and stood away to sea. Three days afterwards we again picked up the land near Cape Campbell, and soon afterwards sighted the steamer Tararua and were towed across the Straits and into Wellington."

Following are the voyages made to New Zealand by the Halcione:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. May 29 sep. 10, '78 Parker 104 Mar. 17 June 25, '81 Parker 100 Jan. 1 May 1, '82 Parker 118

To Wellington. May 28 sep. 3, '69 Bishop 98 June 2 Aug. 28, '70 Bishop 87 May 31 Aug. 24, '71 Bishop 85 May 1 July 27, '72 Bishop 87 April 18 July 14, '73 Bishop 87 *May 25 Sep. 5, '75 Croker 103 May 17 Aug. 19, '79 Parker 93 Jan. 6 May 1, '83 Parker 115 Nov. 28, '83 Mar. 12, '84 Parker 105 Dec. 5, '84 Mar. 29, '85 Parker 114 To Lyttelton. May 19 Aug. 25, '76 Croker 98 Aug. 18 Nov. 28, '77 Croker 102 May 30 Aug. 29, '80 Parker 90 Nov. 8, '88 Feb. 14, '89 Kelly 98 Nov. 21, '89 Feb. 25, '90 Kelly 96 To Bluff. Dec. 19, '85 Mar. 16, '86 Parker 87

To Nelson. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Feb. 25 June 14, '87 Kelly 109 Aug. 24, '91 Kelly 99 Nov. 16, '92 Boorman 100 Oct. 4, '93 Boorman 89 Nov. 8, '94 Boorman 105 To New Plymouth. May 26 Sep. 2, '75 Croker 99 To Napier. Mar. 20 July 4, '74 Croker 105

Called at New Plymouth to land passengers.

The Little Celaeno.

Under Captain C. H. Renaut.

Considering her size—she was only of 700 tons register—the Celaeno made good average passages. This vessel, which was chartered by the Shaw-Savill Co., was connected with a name very well known in New Zealand, that of Renaut, a skipper of that name being found sailing these waters since 1848. The master of the Celaeno was Captain C. H. Renaut, who made ten voyages in her to Wellington, Lyttelton and Port Chalmers. It was 1864 that he brought the vessel out to Port Chalmers on her maiden voyage, but even then he was not a stranger, having been there in 1848 when a youth aboard his father's ship, which was the third vessel with immigrants to enter that Port.

the Celaeno met with the rough weather that was expected by vessels sailing the stormy Southern seas, especially on her maiden voyage. On this occasion all went well until after rounding the Cape on November 8, 1864, when 59 days out. Then very severe weather was experienced until after passing 120 deg. east, when in latitude 46 deg. south and longitude 95 deg. east a terrific cyclone with tremendous seas was encountered. The wind suddenly shifted to south-west on the 25th November, with terrific gusts and torrents of rain, the ship rolling bulwarks under water and labouring very heavily. After passing Tasmania the ship met with another severe gale, and rough weather continued until arrival. The passage, notwithstanding was made in 104 days, or 95 land to land.

Captain Payne, who brought the Celaeno to Napier in 1879 stated the voyage had been the worst he had ever experienced. The vessel encountered a terrific gale from Weymouth to the Scilly Isles, which lasted ten days, during which she lost the greater part of her bulwarks, lost most of her sails, had her decks swept, and suffered other damage. Other severe gales were met with, delaying the ship's progress, and when she arrived at Napier, 142 days out, some of the cargo was damaged.

Here follows the record of outward passages:—

To Wellington. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Oct. 14, '70 Feb. 5, '71 Renaut 113 Nov. 2, '71 Feb. 2, '72 Renaut 92 Oct. 6, '72 Jan. 11, '73 Renaut 97 *Sep. 26, '73 Jan. 3, '74 Gedge 120 To Lyttelton. Oct. 2, '69 Jan. 16, '70 Renaut 106 To Port Chalmers. Sep. 2 Dec. 15, '64 Renaut 104 Land to land 95 Sep 19 Dec. 31,'65 Renaut 102 Sep. 23, '66 Jan. 9, '67 Renaut 107 From Lizard 85 Sep 26 Dec. 27, '67 Renaut 92 Land to land 82 Oct. 26, '68 Feb. 11, '69 Renaut 108 To Napier. Feb. 5 June 27, '79 Payne 142

Detained twenty days in the Channel.

The Dallam Tower.

Ship's Miraculous Escape—2,000 Miles Under Jury Rig.

[One of the most thrilling stories of a disaster at sea that I have ever come across concerns the voyage of the ship Dallam Tower, which, under charter to the Shaw, Sevill Company, left London for Port Chalmers in the summer of 1873, met with a succession of gales of unprecedented fury, was dismasted, had her hatches stove in, was thrown on her beam ends, and in spite of her crippled state rigged a wonderful array of jury masts with strangely and weirdly constructed yards, and sailed 2000 miles and more into port. The story is told in contemporary newspapers both in Melbourne and Dunedin, and I have drawn on both sources.]

The ship Dallam Tower, 1499 tons, Captain John Sayers Davies, bound from London to Port Chalmers, arrived at Melbourne on August 19, 1873, in a shocking condition. A more crippled looking vessel certainly never entered Port Phillip Heads before, her handsome cabin being gutted, and her usually taut masts replaced by the tiniest of spars.

the Dallam Tower left London on May 10, 1873, having on board a number of passengers and an unusually valuable cargo. She passed the Lizard on May 12. The equator was reached on June 5, and good progress was made until July 5, when in 46 south and 30 east a heavy north-west gale was encountered. On July 14, the wind gradually increased and the ship was labouring heavily and shipping great quantities of water,' At 9.30 p.m. the wind rose from the west in a terrific squall, which carried away the truss crane of the lower main topsail yard, which caused the yard to fall down on to the main stays and carried them away. At 10.30 p.m. the barometer began to fall again very fast, and at the same time the topsail yard fell down on deck, breaking into two pieces, smashing the house in which some bulls were penned, and killing one of them.

At 11.20 p.m. the gale was still increasing, and was accompanied with a high cross-sea. The ship was almost continually under water, and laboured very heavily. She shipped a sea over the poop which carried away the after end of the skylight, the standard compass, one of the steering compasses, binnacle lamps, and everything moveable about the poop. At midnight the barometer reading was 28.95. It was blowing a perfect hurricane, the sea continually breaking over the ship and sweeping everything moveable off the main deck. The hurricane was still blowing on July 15, and at 130 a.m. she shipped a tremendous sea on the main deck on both sides, which carried overboard both remaining bulls, all live stock, also the starboard lifeboat, the davits breaking in the starboard saloon doors, through which the water found ingress and nearly filled the saloon. The stewards and passengers were set to work to bail it out, and the carpenter nailed boards across the doorways.

At 2.30 a.m. the hurricane was still blowing to a fearful extent. The starboard fore-sheet parted, and the foresail was almost immediately blown clean away. Shortly after she shipped a very heavy sea on the main deck, which completely smashed the port lifeboat on the skids, breaking in the paint lockers, almost gutting them. The saloon doors were again burst open, and the men engaged in baling were washed out of the saloon. The captain's cabin was smashed up, and nearly all the nautical instruments, all the charts, master's and mate's certificates, ship's papers, the captain's desk, containing about £80, were washed completely away. The saloon passengers then took to the top of the after lockers for safety.

It was still blowing a terrific hurricane at 4 a.m., with a very high sea. The ship was labouring heavily and shipping much water. The ship was almost continuously under water, and the captain, thinking it not safe to run the ship any longer, under great risk was obliged, for the safety of the ship and all on board, to bring her to the wind on the port tack. When the ship was coming to the wind, through the violence of the storm, she was laid down on her beam, and no appearance of her rising the crew were obliged to cut away the fore-topmast, together with main and mizzen top-gallanttopgallant masts, to right the ship. Shortly after the foretopmast went, the jib-boom carried away.

At 9.30 a.m. the captain was obliged to send all the passengers into the forecastle for safety, as timber was floating about in the saloon in a most dangerous manner. Shortly afterwards she shipped a sea which broke in the after-hatch. Before it was possible to repair the damage great quantities of water went down into the foreward storeroom and spoilt nearly all the passengers' stores and a large quantity belonging to the ship. At 10.30 a.m. the main and mizzen topmast back-stay lanyards carried away, which caused the lower main cap and both topmasts to break and fall down alongside the ship.

Dallam Tower Dismasted.

The gale began to moderate a little, but a very high cross-sea kept running and the vessel was still shipping great quantities of water. The pumps were sounded and found one foot ten inches in the well. The crew immediately got the engine to work to pump her out, but in consequence of the seas breaking over and putting the fires out this had to be abandoned. At 8 p.m. the wind was gradually decreasing, but the ship was rolling very heavily. All the lower yards broke adrift, but the crew succeeded with great difficulty in securing them temporarily.

All Hands To The Pumps.

On July 16, at 4 a.m., the gale increased again from the westward. The crew were employed setting spare sail on the foremast to run the ship before the wind, but when set the sails were almost immediately blown away. At 8 a.m. the gale was still increasing, with very fierce squalls, and the ship labouring very heavily. A most dangerous sea was running at noon. The crew were then employed clearing away the wreckage. At 5 p.m. the main yard broke adrift. The crew tried to secure it but failed.

All hands were, working at the pumps at 7 p.m., on the starboard side, when the mainmast fell on the port side, breaking in three pieces, smashing all the pump gear, and making the pumps perfectly useless for a time.

Heavy seas were continuously breaking on board, and large quantities of water went down the mast-hole before it could be stopped up with sails, etc. At 10 p.m. the cross-jack yard broke adrift, which caused the mizzen-mast to fall aft on the starboard side of the poop, breaking in two pieces, tearing the poop-deck up, smashing the skylight, the starboard mainbrace bumpkin, and breaking all the railing on the starboard side of the poop.

The gale moderated on July 17. The pumps showed 2 feet 9 inches of water. Part of the crew and passengers were sent to the pumps, which had been temporarily repaired by the carpenter, and they were kept constantly going. At 4 a.m. on July 18 the fore-stays parted, and the foremast fell right aft, breaking in two pieces, smashing the starboard boat on the skids, the water tank on the house, damaging the donkey boiler, and breaking in the after end of the house.

Jury-Rig.

The mast head plunged through the main hatch, great quantities of water finding its way down the hold through the hatchway before it could be stopped by surrounding the aperture with sails. At noon all hands wore employed pumping ship and rigging sheers to set sail on, so as to run the ship before the sea. Three studding sails were bent, one at a time, and hoisted, but these were split almost as soon as set. The wind moderated between 4 p.m. and 8 p.m., and the sea was going down.

As all the effects, charts, books, weather glasses, and one chronometer

2000 Miles Under Jury Rig. had been completely washed away, nothing was left to navigate the ship with. It was found, however, that one of the passengers had an epitome and almanac. On July 20 a jury mast was rigged at the fore, and all gear set up, and the carpenter was employed getting up the topmast studding sail boom for a foreyard.

A strong gale from the westward set in on July 21. The top-gallant sail on the jury foremast was bent and set at 8 a.m. It split at noon, and the crew then bent the upper and lower mizzen topsails together, and set them on the foremast.

On July 22 the crew cut about 15ft of spare yard, and added it to the main jury mast. On July 23, 24, and 25, the ship was rolling too heavily to enable the crew to get the main jury mast on end.

On July 26, the ship Cape Clear, of and from Liverpool, bound to Sydney, came up, and the captain inquired if assistance was wanted. He was asked for a chart or two, and a few other small things, which were quickly supplied. The captain also offered to take some of the passengers on his ship. This was welcomed by those on the Dallam Tower, as there were several women on board without the necessary clothing, and whom the ship could not decently accommodate; besides, the only water supply left for the ship's use was contained in two rusty tanks. Twelve saloon and four steerage passengers accepted the offer, and they were transferred, and landed safely in Melbourne.

The crew of the Dallam Tower got the main jury mast up on July 26; on July 27 the topmast studding sail boom with a main top-gallant sail on it for a mainsail; and on July 28 the spanker boom on end for a jury mizzen mast, and bent a mizzen top-gallant sail on its proper yard and set it aft. A course was then shaped for Melbourne, as it was deemed to be more prudent than going on to New Zealand.

Not a drop of water leaked into the ship. What was met with in the hold got down through the hatches, and the mast holes. The ship answered her helm splendidly, and strong westerly wind blew her safely into port, when the storm was over. She would hardly ever have shown up in Australia if she had not bad particularly strong winds behind her. On one occasion, with three sails on her jury masts, she ran a distance of 170 miles in 24 hours.

She reached Melbourne with what seemed to the landsmen very rickety yards. They consisted each of them, not of a single piece of timber, but of a number of stun-sail booms of different lengths, bound together with ropes, and roughly fixed to the masts. Two of the masts limits were yards, and the third was a spanker boom. They stood in the stumps of the hollow iron masts, and were jammed tight with wedges. If any of them had given away it could not have been replaced, for apparently they represented the last pieces of timber in the ship.

With the exception of the second mate, who met with a mishap to one of his hands, not a soul—not even one of the eight or nine children—had an injury to show.

Officers and saloon passengers lost everything but the clothes they stood in. Looking at the dismantled state of the ship, people in Melbourne were astonished when they learned that the ship had sailed a distance of 2000 miles under jury masts and three small sails.

When the ship was refitted in Melbourne it only extended to her rig. Captain Davis added sky-sails to her, and lost them and the royals on the passage across to Dunedin, which was reached on March 4, 1874.

Several of the passengers who came out in the Dallam Tower on this eventful voyage are still living. One, Mr. J. W. Brindley, formerly manager of the Victoria Insurance Company, and later with the Government Insurance Department, is residing in Auckland. Another is Mr. Henry Scott, residing at Timaru. The latter gentleman, referring to a paragraph which appeared giving Captain Davies the credit for bringing the ship safe to Melbourne, states: "Captain Davies had little to do with the saving of the ship. The man who saved both our ship and our lives was the first mate, George Donald McDonald, and had it not been for his splendid seamanship and endurance (on one occasion he stood at the wheel for thirty consecutive hours, and eventually had to be carried below) we should have all gone to the bottom. Captain Davies has been given credit in some of the reports published for trying to heave the ship to under great difficulties. If Captain Davies had yielded to the advice, almost entreaties, of his officers he would have hove the ship to three days before he made the attempt, and the Dallam Tower would probably have rode out the storm with as little damage as was suffered by the clipper ship Superb, which only lost her foreroyal. This ship was in the same cyclone as we were, and was so close to us that her officers saw the live bull which had been swept from our decks swimming in the sea. These facts were supplied by officers of the Superb when we arrived at Melbourne."

the Dallam Tower was a handsome ship, built of iron throughout, and was described as a splendid sea boat and a fast traveller. Notwithstanding that she sailed close on 2000 miles under jury rig, and took 36 days to do the distance, the ship made the passage to Melbourne in 90 days. How she could travel was demonstrated in a most remarkable manner, when on one occasion before her mishap she ran according to observation, 1026 miles in three days, and for several days besides logged her 300 miles per day whilst running her easting down. Up to the time of her arrival at Port Chalmers she had spent 100 days at sea from the date of her departure from London. Not bad work, considering the adversity which befell her.

That the Dallam Tower was a flyer is substantiated by Mr. James Gilmour, of Parnell, Auckland. He came out in the ship on her maiden trip to Melbourne in 1866, and in referring to her fast sailing qualities states that the ship always overhauled any vessel sighted. Eight days before reaching Melbourne "we sighted a large vessel ahead, which turned out to be the clipper ship Light of Age. We were making only eight knots in a light wind. As we approached the stranger she appeared to be lying-to. Our captain, thinking she wanted something, drew near to inquire, but just then the Light of Age allowed her sails to fill and drift across our bows. She bumped on our starboard bow and then amidships as we slid past. The damage, fortunately, was not very serious. A studding boom was broken, and fell on the forecastle among several passengers, who luckily escaped injury."

After the disastrous voyage to Port Chalmers, the Dallam Tower sailed from Port Chalmers on June 6 for London with a full cargo of wool, wheat, gold, leather, skins, preserved meats, personal effects, and other goods of a total value of £64,232. When the ship returned to London the whole of the masts and rigging were condemned and replaced. Captain Davies was dismissed, and Captain Campbell placed in command.

the Dallam Tower visited Dunedin again in 1878, and demonstrated her fine sailing qualities. She left London on October 20, passing the Lizard on the 24th. She had a good run to the Equator of 24 days, and sighted the Snares on January 11, 1879. She arrived at Port Chalmers on the 14th, making a splendid passage of 76 days land to land and 84 from port to port.

the Dallam Tower also made one voyage to Wellington in command of Captain Campbell, arriving On the 17th March, 1875, after a good run of 81 days from Plymouth. She carried 257 passengers and made the best run of the season to Wellington. The ship left Plymouth on the 25th December, 1874, with 257 immigrants, and experienced light head winds during the first week out. She ran to the Snares in 74 days.

The Robina Dunlop.

Wrecked on Waikanae Beach.

After making three successful runs out to the Dominion, the Robina Dunlop was lost at the mouth of the Turakina River, between Wanganui and Rangitikei, about 100 miles from Wellington. The barque, a vessel of 493 tons, sent out by the Shaw, Savill Co., arrived at Wellington on July 16, 1877, having sailed from London on March 20, and making the passage in 116 days, under the command of Captain John Graham. Having discharged her cargo and passengers at Wellington, she sailed on August 13 for Batavia in ballast, and early the next morning stranded on the beach and became a total wreck. Captain Graham and the crew, numbering thirteen, all succeeded in reaching the shore, but most of their effects were lost. The captain and crew, after walking several miles, eventually reached Reuben's pa at a Maori settlement, and were kindly treated by the natives, in return for which Captain Graham, by deed of gift, presented Reuben, a Maori chief, with the wreck as she lay on the beach. An inquiry into the wreck was subsequently held, at which Captain Graham's certificate was suspended for two years.

the Robina Dunlop came twice to Auckland. She arrived on July 21, 1875, under the command of Captain Jack, making the passage in 113 days.

On the barque's second voyage to Auckland she sailed from London on March 18, and arrived on July 5, 1876, after an uneventful run of 108 days. On this occasion Captain Graham was in command. The barque experienced very heavy weather in the Channel, which necessitated throwing overboard some acids stored on deck. She had another rough time off the island of Trinidad, and after passing the Cape the ship was run 300 miles south to avoid a hurricane which was presaged by the barometer and the appearance of the weather northward. Tasmania was passed on the eighty-third day out, and a week later, on June 21, she met further trouble. Quite unawares, the glass at the time standing for fine weather, the vessel encountered a fearful hurricane, the full force of which lasted for 36 hours. During this time the ship was hove-to with nothing on her but what could be laced in the mizzen rigging. The fury of the elements was tremendous while the hurricane lasted. Several sails had to be cut away to save the ship and all on board. Two chain plates in the mizzen rigging were carried away, and the cabin skylight was burst in, the cabin flooded, and everything movable on deck made a clean sweep of. The main topmast cross-trees, the parrels of the upper topsail yards, and the fore-lifts and braces were also carried away. The ship laboured tremendously in the heavy sea occasioned by the change of wind, and for many hours she was in danger of being stove in. The gale blew itself out on the 23rd, and a good run down the coast was enjoyed to port.

The Trevelyan.

Foundered with All Hands.

This unfortunate ship, a vessel of 1042 tons, built in 1863, and subsequently purchased by the Shaw, Savill Company, for the conveyance of immigrants to Australia and New Zealand. after making several voyages went "missing" in 1888. Captain Harry Bowling, a younger brother of Captain

the Trevelyan At Port Chalmers. Tom Bowling, took command of the ship in 1887, succeeding Captain Roberts. After completing one voyage to Wellington under his command, the Trevelyan sailed again from Glasgow for Otago on March 23, 1888, and, it is believed foundered off the South African coast on June 3, with all hands. Some months elapsed when the ship was posted at Lloyd's as missing, and a later cable from England to New Zealand stated that a life-buoy marked Trevelyan had been picked up and that further it was then considered certain a ship which was seen in distress by a steamship bound to Capetown, when the weather was so rough that it was impossible to render any assistance, or even make out her name, was the illfated Trevelyan. At the time of the storm the vessel in distress was close in shore off Cape Aqulhas, which is not in the usual track of vessels sailing to New Zealand, but it was thought the vessel at the time was attempting to make Capetown for repairs. The Travelyan was then over seventy days out, but as she was not a fast sailor, the Cape would probably be her position at the time she disappeared.

the Trevelyan had previously made the following passages to New Zealand ports:—

To Wellington. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Aug. 3 Nov. 21, '84 Roberts 110 Jan. 12 Apr. 29, '87 Bowling 106 To Lyttelton. Feb. 7 May 13, '80 Roberts 95 Dec. 7, '85 Mar. 25, '86 Roberts 108 To Dunedin. Dec. 8, '73 Mar. 30, '74 Loftus 121 Sep. 28 Dec. 30, '83 Roberts 93

The May Queen.

A Popular Little Barque—Wrecked at Lyttelton.

the May Queen was a pretty little barque, and very popular with passengers. Although only 736 tons register she made excellent passages to the several ports. After making sixteen voyages to New Zealand she came to grief at Lyttelton in 1888. She ran to Dunedin from 1871 until 1876,

the May Queen Entering Nelson. under charter to the Shaw-Savill Company, and also made three voyages to Auckland, two to Lyttelton, two to Nelson, and one to Napier.

On the 1st January, 1877, the May Queen anchored at Port Chalmers with the greater part of her bulwarks between the fore and main rigging gone. Captain Tatchell reported that on the night of December 7th the ship was head reaching under three lower topsails in a furious S.E. gale when the wind suddenly veered to the S.W., and orders were given to loose the fore topmast staysail. None of the watch were inclined to obey and the second officer (Mr. Boose), only 22 years of age, sprang on to the bowsprit. The ship dipped into a heavy sea and took it right over her bows. When she rose again the officer had disappeared.

In 1881 the May Queen sailed direct from London to Tauranga with passengers for the Vesey Stewart Settlement, and then came on to Auckland with pas-sengerspassengers and cargo. While at Tauranga she was reported to have run aground. What really happened was that her cable parted while she was anchored at Stoney Point and she was steered into Blind Channel, where her stern just touched at low water. She did not suffer any damage and came on to Auckland, when the passengers and some cargo were landed, arriving here on 24th December.

the May Queen was wrecked at Lyttelton in 1888, while in command of Captain Colville, who made six voyages in the ship. She was owned by W. Shirris, of Aberdeen, and built by A. Hall and Company. She left London on 26th October, 1887, and made a good passage out of 91 days to Lyttelton Heads, arriving on January 27. The port pilot Lewin

Captain R. Tatchell. boarded the ship and took the vessel up through the Heads against a strong uncertain wind. When off "Red Head," situated between the bay and Little Port Cooper, and close in shore, the vessel missed stays and ran upon the reef. A tug soon approached and endeavoured to tow the May Queen off, but in vain, for she had gone ashore at nearly high water, and as the tide had ebbed about a foot she held fast and would not budge an inch. The agents procured a lighter, which was sent down alongside the May Queen, and a gang of men commenced discharging the cargo. The vessel remained in the same position for two or three days, when it slightly altered and she took a list to starboard the water at high tide covering the stern almost to the main hatch. The following day the sea became very rough, the water was now level with the 'tween decks, and the cases and other packages were being washed about. Next day the vessel had settled down still more aft, and the whole of the main deck was covered to the deckhouse. On the 28th the ship was abandoned, only those interested in the salvage remaining on board. On January 30th the May Queen, which originally cost £22,000, was sold by public auction, and purchased by Messrs. Wood, Sinclair and Company for the sum of £275. Between 500 and 600 tons of cargo was salved, and the remainder, consisting of wines, spirits, fruit in hermetically sealed tanks, and a lot of valuable ironware, oils, drugs and drapery was sold by auction, and purchased by Mr. J. Mills stevedore of Port Chalmers, for £1000. The wreck was again sold for £7.

Here follow the records of passages made to New Zealand:—

To Auckland. Sailed. Arrived. Captain. Days. Oct. 1, '77 Jan. 7, '78 Tatchell 95 July 30 Oct. 19, '78 Tatchell 90 Aug. 27† Dec. 16, '81 Colville 110 To Wellington. Sep. 27, '82 Jan. 6, '83 Colville 101 To Lyttelton. Aug. 22 Dec. 3, '80 Colville 102 Oct. 26, '87 Jan. 27, '88 Colville 91 To Dunedin. Aug. 20 Nov. 8, '70 Leslie 80 Land to land 75 Aug. 26 Nov. 15, '71 Leslie 81 Land to land 76 July 29 Oct. 24, '72 Leslie 87 Aug. 7 Nov. 5, '73 Tatchell 90 Aug. 19 Nov. 13, '74 Tatchell 85 Aug. 31 Dec. 4, '75 Tatchell 95 Sep. 18, '76 Jan. 1, '77 Tatchell 105 To Nelson. Aug. 8 Nov. 18, '85 Colville 102 Aug. 16 Dec. 1, '86 Colville 107 To Napier. Aug. 7 Nov. 7, '79 Tatchell 90

Via Tauranga.

The Lastingham.

Wrecked in Sight of Port—A Midnight Tragedy—Half the Company Drowned.

The fine iron ship Lastingham, a vessel of 1143 tons, chartered by the Shaw-Savill Company, came to grief under sad circumstances when on her second voyage from London out to Wellington. The disaster happened in the spring of 1884. All went well until the ship was within a few hours of her destination. Those on board were congratulating one another on the pleasant prospect of being at their journey's end, and then suddenly in the night the scene was changed, and what should have been a welcome to a new land became a tragedy. The story of the catastrophe serves as another reminder of the terrible risks incidental to sailing ships and those that sailed in them.

It was not until Cape Egmont was sighted that anything of note occurred on the passage, and there the ship ran into severe weather. As the day wore on the gale increased, and suddenly, at about nine o'clock in the night, land was reported on the port bow. Captain Morrison, the master, ordered the foresail to be cut away, the course was altered, and the ship stood out for about half an hour. Then the look-out reported land right ahead, and an attempt was made to wear ship, but unsuccessfully, and in spite of the crew's frantic work the ship was driven ashore on what was afterwards found to be Jackson's Head, Cook Strait. The scene that followed was heartrending, and of the 28 people on board, only 14 ever got ashore.

On A Ledge.

The doomed