page 463

Shipping.

Sing ho, for a gay and gallant barque,
A brisk and lively breeze;
A captain, too, and a bully crew,
To carry me over the seas.
To carry me over the seas, my boys,
To my own true love, so gay;
She's taken a trip in a sailing ship,
Ten thousand miles away.
Then blow ye winds, i-oh!
A-roving I will go;
I'll stay no more on England's shore,
So let the music play.
I'll start by the morning train,
I'll cross the raging main,
For I'm on a voyage to my own true love,
Ten thousand miles away.

—Old Sea Song.

The above lines were written, and sometimes roared with lurid embellishments and variations, with other sea songs or “chantys” by the sailors while raising the anchor, etc., in the days when canvas reigned supreme on the seas.

Some of the immigrants who took passage for a voyage from London, Liverpool, or the Clyde, which occupied six months in a crowded “wind-jammer”—and no luxuries —acquired a certain amount of nautical knowledge before they landed in New Zealand. They knew how to reef, set sail, beat to windward, and express themselves in sailor slang. They experienced the intolerable heat and tedium of lying becalmed, when the equatorial sun melted the pitch in the deck seams.

Life-long friendships, in which joy and sorrow were shared, were cemented during these voyages, and the term: “They were shipmates of ours,” was invariably heard when “old-timers” met in reminiscential conversation.

Before proceeding with the arrival of the first ships at Port Nicholson, the writer proposes to deal briefly with a few events prior to the successful issue of the scheme of colonisation carried out by the New Zealand Company, of 1837.

These events, chronologically arranged, though of no immediate connection with Wellington, relate to New Zealand generally, and occurred before the Pito-one colonists landed, but are of historical interest.

1.	There appears on the Admiralty chart of the Indian Ocean (1827) a marginal note: “New Zealand discovered and named by Tasman in 1642, but whose eastern coast was known to the Portuguese about the year 1550.” Against Cook Strait are the words “Gulf of Portuguese.” (Brett's “Early History of N.Z.,” p. 3.)
2.	Abel Tasman, who sailed round the coasts of Western and South Australia, and had discovered Tasmania, sighted New Zealand, named by him in memory of his birthplace, on Dec. 13th, 1642. (McNab's “Historical Records of N.Z.” Vol. II., p. 25).
3.	In an article written for the “Post” Christmas number, 1904, the writer has mentioned that the name of New Zealand was found for the first time on a Dutch map, dated 1646.
4.	On the 16th October, 1769, Captain James Cook first saw New Zealand, and passed Kapiti Island on the 14th January, 1770. On the 8th of February, 1770, he rounded Cape Palliser, named by him in honour of his friend, Captain Palliser.
5.	On Tuesday, 2nd November, 1773, Captain Cook sailed from Cloudy Bay across the Strait. In his journal he writes: “We discovered on the east side of Cape Tierawhiti (Terawhiti or Tarawhiti), a new inlet I had never observed before. I resolved to put into this place, or to anchor in the bay which lies before it. At one o'clock we reached the entrance of the inlet (Chaffer's Passage, Wellington Harbour), just as the tide of ebb was making out. The wind being likewise against us, we anchored in twelve fathoms of water; the bottom a fine sand. “The easternmost of the black rocks (Barrett's Reef) which lie on the starboard side of the entrance of the inlet, bore N. by E. one mile dis- page 464 tant. Soon after we had anchored, several natives came off in their canoes. These people were extravagantly fond of nails above every other thing. To one man I gave two cocks and two hens. We had not been at anchor here above two hours before the wind veered to the N.E., with which we weighed; but the anchor was hardly at the bows before it shifted to the south. With this we could but just lead out of the bay, and then bore away for the south under all the sail we could set.” (Mc-Nab's “Historical Records of N.Z.”, Vol. II., p. 183.)
6.	About the year 1817, Te Rauparaha, often referred to as the Napoleon of New Zealand, visited Kapiti, and formed the design of taking possession of it, but resolved to treat the people there with kindness, though he compelled them to collect and surrender to him quantities of greenstone. His party were on a raiding expedition, which had no special object beyond slaughter and slave-making, with the added pleasure of devouring the bodies of the slain. Various tribes along the coast were attacked, and the raiders rested at Otaki, then came on to Whanga-nui-a-Tara (Wellington Harbour) and occupied the district, so that they could trade with the Europeans, and procure guns and gunpowder. (W. L. Travers' “Stirring Times of Te Rauparaha,” p. 64.) Other references may be found in Mr. S. Percy Smith's “History and Tradition of the Maori,” Vols. I. and X., the journal of the Polynesian Society; James Cowan's “New Zealand Wars,” Vol. I.; T. Lindsay Buick's “An Old New Zealander,” and Sir J. Glenny Wilson's “Early Rangitikei.”
7.	In June, 1820, Bellinghausen the Russian voyager, passed through Cook's Strait, but did not visit Port Nicholson, nor did he mention it.
8.	On the 26th February, 1824, the ship “Urania” (Captain Reynolds) lay becalmed in Cook Strait, when Te Pehi, a Ngati-Toa chief, went aboard the vessel, and, refusing to leave her, was conveyed to England. The captain states: “I attempted to put him on shore near the eastern mouth of Cook's Strait, and in so doing. I only just escaped losing the ship; therefore I was obliged, much against my inclination, but to Te Pehi's satisfaction, to make sail and leave the island for my port of destination.”
9.	The “Samuel” was anchored in Cook Strait on the 31st July, 1824, the locality was not specified, when the captain and five men were murdered by the natives. (Elsdon Best, in Wellington Harbour Board Year Book, 1919, pp. 54 and 57.)
10.	Reference is made to Herd's expedition in Hocken's “Early History of New Zealand,” in which he states: “About sixty settlers were brought out in the ‘Rosanna’ (Captain Herd) in 1826. The settlers were so alarmed at the attitude of the natives, that they induced the captain to take them to Sydney.” Further references are to be found in McNab's “Murihuku” (1909, p. 364.
11.	The “Rosanna” (1826), Capt. Herd, entered the harbour and supplied some notes on it for Vol. I. of the Nautical Almanac. (“Here all the navies of Europe might ride in perfect security.”) Lambton Harbour was not named after the cutter “Lambton,” but after Mr. Lambton who was afterwards the Earl of Durham.
12.	The “Haweis,” Captain Nicholson, called when returning from the Society Islands laden with pork and coconut oil.
13.	1827. The warships “Warspite” and “Volage” passed through Cook Straits. Mana Island was once called Warspite Island.
14.	D'Urville passed Cook Straits and unsuccessfully attempted to make Port Nicholson. page 465
15.	Mar. 16, 1832. H.M.S. “Zebra” arrived at Kapiti Island from Sydney and passed through Cook's Strait on her way to Tahiti. 1833. The “Speculator” arrived, and got into trouble with natives. The “Waterloo” was wrecked near Waikanae.
16.	Frederic Edward Maning, who sailed from Hobart Town on the 30th June, 1833, in the little trading brig “Mary and Elizabeth,” 83 tons (Captain T. Nicholls, master), relates his unexpected and ludicrous mode of landing, legs uppermost, in an inimitably humorous manner in his book “Old New Zealand,” from which the following extracts are taken:—

“I shall not state the year in which I first saw the mountains of New Zealand appear above the sea; there is a false suspicion getting about that I am growing old. This must be looked down, so I will at present avoid dates.… I have not got on shore yet—a thing I must accomplish as a necessary preliminary to looking about me and telling what I saw.… I must get on shore, which, I am surprised to find, was easier to do than to describe. The little ship neared the land, and as we came closer and closer I began in a most unaccountable manner to remember all the tales I had ever heard of people being baked in ovens, with cabbages and potato ‘fixin's.’… I felt, to say the least, rather curious as to the then existing demand on shore for butcher's meat.

“The ship sailed on, and I went below and loaded my pistols—not that I expected at all to conquer the country with them, but somehow I could not help it. We soon came to anchor in a fine harbour before the house of the very first settler who had entered it, and to this time he was the only one.… Shortly after we came to anchor, a boat came off, in which was the settler I have mentioned, and also the principal chief of the tribe of natives inhabiting this part of the country. Mr. —– gave me a hearty welcome, and an invitation to his house.

“The boat of friend —– being about to return to the shore, I plucked up courage, and, having secretly felt the priming of my pistols under my coat, got into the boat.… . For the honour and glory of the British nation I had dressed myself in one of my best suits. My frock-coat was, I fancy, ‘the thing,’ my waistcoat was the result of much and deep thought in cut, colour and material; my hat looked down criticism, and my whole turnout was such as I calculated would astonish the natives. The boat nears the shore, and now arises from a hundred voices the call of welcome: “Haere mai, Haere mai; hoe mai, hoe mai” (come here). Mats, hands and certain ragged peticoats were put into requisition to the Maori salute, I disliked the sound. There was a wailing melancholy cadence that did not strike me as being the appropriate tone of welcome.

I began, as the boat approached the shore, to ask myself whether possibly this “Haere mai” might not be the Maori for ‘dilly, dilly, come and be killed.’ We were close to the shore; and so, putting on the most unconcerned countenance possible, I prepared to make my entree into Maoriland in a proper and dignified manner. The boat darts on, she touches the edge of a steep rock. The ‘haere-mai’ has subsided; six or seven personages—the magnates of the tribe—come gravely to the front to meet me as I land. There are about six or seven yards of shallow water to be crossed between the boat and where they stand. A stout fellow rushes to the boat's nose, and ‘shows a back,’ as we used to say at leap frog; he is ready to carry the pakeha on shore—the Rangitira pakeha, who wears a real koti-roa (a long coat) and beaver hat. Having stepped in as dignified a manner as I knew how from thwart to thwart, till I came to the bow of the boat, and having page 466 tightened on my hat and buttoned up my coat, I fairly mounted the broad shoulders of my aboriginal friend. I felt at the time that the thing was a sort of failure—a come down. The position was not graceful, or in any way likely to suggest ideas of respect and awe, with my legs projecting a yard or so from under each arm of my bearer, holding on to his shoulders in the most painful, cramped and awkward manner. To be sacked on shore thus, and delivered like a bag of goods into the hands of the assembled multitude, did not strike me as a good first appearance on this stage. But little indeed can we tell in this world what one second may produce. The fiat has gone forth. On that man's back I shall never land in New Zealand. My bearer made one step—the rock is slippery—backwards he goes—back—back! Down, down we go, backwards and headlong to the depths below. The ebb tide is running like a sluice; in an instant we are forty yards off, and a fathom below the surface—ten more fathoms beneath us. The heels of my boots, my polished boots, point to the upper air; now I am uppermost and drifting away with the tide, and ballasted with heavy pistols, boots, tight clothes, and all the strappings of civilisation, and in desperate danger of being drowned. Up we came at last, blowing and puffing like a grampus. With a glance I recognised the situation. We had drifted a long way from the landing place. My hat was dashing away before the land breeze towards the sea, and had already made a good offing. Three of the boat's crew had jumped overboard and were seemingly bound for the hat. But the villain is within a yard of me—the rascally cause of all my grief. The furies take possession of me; I dart upon him like a hungry shark. I have him under. Down, villain; down to the kraken and the whale, to the taniwha cave—down, down, down! As we sank I heard one grand roar of wild laughter from the shore—the word ‘Utu’ I heard roared by many voices, but did not then know its import. The pakeha was drowning the Maori for ‘Utu’ himself, in case he should be drowned. Crack! What do I hear? Down in the deep I felt a shock, and actually heard a sudden noise. Is it the crack of doom?—No; it is my frock-coat, gone at one split from clue to earing—split down the back. Oh, if my pistols would go off, a fiery and watery death shouldst thou die, Caliban. Egad! They have gone off— they are both gone to the bottom! My boots are getting heavy. Humane Society, ahoy! Where is your boat hook? Where is your bellows? We are now drifting fast by a sandy point, after which there will be no chance of land—the tide will take us right out to sea. My friend is very hard to drown; must finish him some other time. We both swim for the point and land—and this is how I got ashore on Maoriland.”

1834.—The “Joseph Weller” was in port when Guard and some of the crew of the “Harriett” arrived.

1835.—The “Rodney” (Captain Harewood) and the “Caroline” (Captain Cherry) were in port. “Jolly Rambler,” the latter part of the year.

1837.—H.M.S. “Rattlesnake” (Captain Hobson) visited Cook Strait, but did not mention the port. (Baillie Rec., p. 700).

1837.—Samuel Cunard (mentioned in Brett, p. 11).

1839.—“Columbine” arrived Whanganui; Rev. Taylor passenger (Wakefield, p. 590).

1839.—“Tory” (described elsewhere).

22/9/1839 to 29/9/1839.—Captain Chaffers surveyed the harbour and collected data for the working of charting it.