VOYAGE TO AUCKLAND VIA WELLINGTON AND NELSON
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THE JOURNAL
(Entry of 24 May 1854 continued)
VOYAGE TO AUCKLAND VIA WELLINGTON AND NELSON
Thursday afternoon [11 May], we were off--FitzGerald, his wife and children and a nurse--myself and Elizabeth and plenty of other people going to Wellington and elsewhere. We weighed Anchor about 5 o'clock and went out of Harbour with an agreeable fresh breeze from the N.W. on our beam as the sailors say. Smooth water--doing 9 knots an hour. We were all rather in spirits and for the most part untroubled with sickness. The accommodation was fairly good. Elizabeth and I had a little Cabin with 2 berths to ourselves. (By the bye we paid £15 a piece for the passage to Auckland.) About 9 o'clock we turned in below of course not undressing. About midnight began sounds of rushing waters, creakings, rollings and pitchings. A South wester had sprung up off the Kaikouras and was driving us along furiously. I came on deck in the early morning and found we were off Cape Campbell rolling in the trough of a prodigious Sea, and spinning along at the rate of 13 or 14 knots an hour. After a few hours we mended our position and went into Wellington, the wind shifting to the N.W. but not very strong. We made the passage in about 19 hours which is very quick. Of course the people were all sick. I was in a state of misery though not positively ill. We found Wellington politically dull, but commercially very lively. The Harbour full of shipping, and all the people making money, which every body does here, myself excepted. This very circumstance produces political dullness. People who make cent per cent care mightly little about politics--and they scorn office and patronage. The Provincial Council not sitting--Wakefield off to Auckland by the Brig. Saw Fox, and had some general talk about himself and politics. (I cannot make him out.) I urged him to come up to Auckland, but he would not. I told him I thought he should be Attorney General, and that he ought to be at Auckland. I asked him whether he had abjured politics. 'Oh no--he took the same interest as ever, but it would be
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improper to go up to Auckland; he was not a member,' and so forth. 1 I said this was mere prudery--it was every man's business to be there who took a leading part in public affairs. It is said that the Government mean to surrender every thing--to accept responsible Government ex animo [heartily] &c. That involves a recast of Government appointments, and he (Fox) ought to be Attorney General. I said this wanting him to be open with me as I desired to be with him, but he kept himself in reserve. We talked slightly of Wellington politics--(of Featherston and Wakefield). He professed friendship and regard for Wakefield, but evidently took part with Featherston. It is said that he is going to take part in Featherston's Government. This is taking a second class ticket. Fox might be the most important man in New Zealand, but as far as one can judge, he declines it. This was the only thing worth noting at Wellington. We hoped to be there only 24 hours, but some cause unknown kept us hanging on till Monday at noon in a state of much discomfort in our old quarters at Alzdorff's Hotel. The poor Baron has had a paralytic stroke and his household is more than ever at sixes and sevens. The place was dirty--the attendance as bad as possible--altogether miserable. FitzGerald and his family were obliged to pig it in an apartment made to serve the triple purpose of sitting room, bedroom and nursery. But they took their meals with us. We breakfasted one morning with Fox. He shewed me his American sketches which are admirable.
Featherston does not go up this time. Mrs Featherston expects her confinement daily. This may or may not be the reason. He declares his intention to come next time; but his sincerity is suspected. Wellington was as beautiful, as windy and as disagreeable as ever. The place is mighty flourishing and people make no end of money--all from Australian gold. Produce enormously dear, and not a labourer to be had for love or money. Wages enormous--6 and 7 shillings a day, and rising. Oh for the contents of a dozen English workhouses.
(Found Mrs Peel (cidevant Marianne Peel) quartered in tidy lodgings. We lunched with her on Sunday, Mr Peel not visible having hurt his leg. They are disheartened and I think will return home.) 2
Monday, 15 May. About noon went on board; blowing fresh from the N.W. dead against us for Nelson. About two we ought to have been off, but somehow or another we had got foul of another
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vessel--fouled our Anchor I believe they call it. At all events our Anchor was lying just underneath another vessel. We tried to get it up, and getting alongside carried away the fore topmast of the Steamer. The wind freshened up till it blew a gale and we could do nothing but wait till it shifted. About 7 the wind lulled--clouds began to rise in the S.E. and in half an hour it blew a fresh breeze from the S.E., a capital wind for Nelson, but an awfully bad one for getting out of Wellington Harbour, throwing up a tremendous sea between the heads. Some of the passengers had gone on shore relying on our not starting till the morning; but at 10 o'clock a signal gun was fired--the stragglers came on board, and off we went. We turned in below and knew no more of our progress till the morning. About daybreak I came on deck and found that we were fast running through the Straits. A gloomy sky--heavy rain--thick mists over the land and a considerable Sea. The different headlands just peeped out from their shrouds of cloud and rain sufficiently to shew that in fine weather it must be very beautiful. Successions of islands and promontories with distant Mountains and intersections of sea channels producing great variety; but the weather was detestable and the beauties were left to the imagination till we rounded the point of Stephens' Island. Thence we turned to the Southward towards Nelson. Opening Blind Bay we saw that the bad weather was merely in the Straits. The sky was clearing and the Sun shone in the distance through a thin veil of scud. They say this is almost invariably the case. Cook's Straits are the funnel through which Storms drive from East to West and vice versa; whilst Blind Bay which is a deep indentation of the Coast, and in which Nelson lies, is in perpetual sunshine. It is a fine bay, and not altogether unlike the Bay of Dublin on a great scale. Mountains on either side of the Crescent with comparatively low land in the centre of the curve. As the weather brightened people came on deck looking crushed and soiled. The Sea went down, and we steamed along in smooth water, gradually regaining our appetites. In about 20 hours we were off Nelson, but too late to get in. Nelson lies in a small valley between Mountains of no considerable height. Between it and the open sea is a remarkable piece of water completely fenced in by a boulder bank which stretches along the Coast for 10 miles; the basin so formed being like a huge millpond. A narrow entrance opens at one extremity through which a strong tide runs except at high and low water, and there are the usual dangers of rocks and bars and banks against which a vessel particularly an Iron one would find it awkward to stumble. The tide was against us, with water low, and it was getting dusk, so we dropped Anchor till about 10 o'clock when the tide turned and the Pilot carried the Steamer in. Some of our
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fellow passengers went off in boats to the Town. We remained on board thinking it too late to disturb the Richardsons (who we took for granted expected us, according to previous notice). Landed next morning before breakfast and walked straight off to the Richardson's, whom we met on the beach coming after us. Our greeting was cordial. They were most kind and hospitable, and had come for us to take up our domicile with them. Dr Richardson 3 is going up to the Upper House--one of the Peers as they are called (in derision); so we were to be companions to Auckland. She is as bright and cheerful as ever--a charming little body--quite well in health and apparently as happy as possible, with lots of children. 4 The eldest boy a nice gentlemanly lad, wonderfully like the Seymours, was grown out of all my recollections. 5 At present they are in a house of poor Dillon's who was drowned, while they are building a new house on the site of the one which was burned. The situation pretty but not striking. There are some pretty features about Nelson, but nothing remarkable. Several narrow valleys or gorges extend a few miles inland between the Mountains with Streams of water, hardly to be called Rivers; very little wood and that of a poor kind. The great attraction of the place is climate. The Richardsons speak of it as a Paradise. Month after Month of warm sunshiny weather, the only fault being rather on that side. It is a lazy Castle-of-Indolence sort of place and Dr Richardson says it enervates people, mind and body, physically and politically.
There dined with us on Wednesday [17 May], Major Richmond 6 and his daughter, and a Capt. Blundell. 7 The Major is an old official of Sir George Grey's. He is Commissioner of Crown Lands; was Resident Magistrate; a sort of Government factotum; a good natured gentlemanly agreeable man, (but from whom the Thames is quite safe). Miss Richmond rather a nice looking simple mannered person. He also is one of the Peers. He and Dr Richardson sympathize in a determination to stand by their order and maintain in their own persons the British Constitution. The Nelson Peers are
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all of this mind. We talked politics, and I could not help poking fun at them.
In the morning I called on Mr Saxton, 8 brother of Mrs Somes, the Donor of the College Estate at Lyttelton. 9 Talked about the management of the property which is sadly neglected. According to all accounts he is a good man, but simply fanatical, and has a superstitious horror of what he calls Puseyism. He complains of Godley not subscribing the articles of his faith. (I did not tell him he was a goose, but I thought him so. However) I recommended him to look after the property, which he will do.
There was a Meeting of Church Trustees which I attended and got an insight into their Church affairs. They have got £10,000 invested in the 3 per cents, in Bishop Selwyn's name, or under his control. They want it invested in land. 'Oh' they said, 'that we had made the same blunder that you did at Canterbury about Land investments.' It seems agreed now on all hands that we did most wisely and I hear no more about the sacrilegious misapplication of our funds. (FitzGerald is silent and Matthias' rage now turns the other way--furious because I dare to part with a single one of the precious Acres.)
Thursday [18 May]. Dr Richardson drove me up the Waimea Valley about 10 miles. It disappointed me. The Waimea is a space of low flat land (so called from the River of that name) bordering the Sea at the head of the Bay. The Waimea River flows into it from a narrow gorge in the Hills. This is the only available Country for Agriculture near Nelson. All the rest is Mountain, full in all probability of Minerals but useless for cultivation or pasture. So the Waimea is of great importance and the people of Nelson set great store by it. But it is an inferior tract of land, a good deal of it poor gravel. It is for the most part cultivated in farms, with respectable homesteads. Some good looking gentlemen's houses. The road in the present dry weather was very tolerable, but in the rainy season not passable. There was a strong breeze blowing from the S.E. very unusual they say; and one could hardly appreciate the real charms of Nelson climate.
On Thursday Capt. Bellairs and a Mr Mackay 10 dined with us. Capt. Bellairs is one of the Peers from Otago. I knew him in England--(a coxcomb), who talked (prodigious nonsense) about
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the tide of democracy, and so forth. (How absurd to get together a dozen men of such calibre to counterbalance the Elective House. The thing is a farce.)
We were delayed at Nelson (again for some unknown cause) till Friday [19 May]. About 3 o'clock on that day we got on board; the S. Easter still blowing hard. The tide just turned, and we had to make the best of our way to save the flood. The Steamer is a long vessel difficult to handle in so small a space. For some time the Captain in vain tried to work her round--when she did get her nose in the right direction to wriggle through the narrow channel she shewed not the slightest disposition to obey--and before we had cleared the entrance, after making two or three bumps upon the boulder stones, she rested fairly aground. The Engine was turned backwards and forwards to no purpose. There we were hard and fast with the chance of the vessel bumping and driving a hole through her bottom. The wind blew a strong breeze and a nasty tide rip was running through the Channel. The ladies were first taken off; then the Men, and we all trudged back again in high dudgeon to our respective abodes, agreeing to meet in the evening to take counsel as to what should be done. Gathered at 8 o'clock at the Wakatu Hotel and debated the question what to do. The tone rather that of despair. None of us I believe ever expected the vessel to get off. At all events could we safely trust her? The Dispatch (just on the point of sailing) must be detained to carry the news to Wellington, and charter another vessel for us. The deliberation ended in a convivium of cigars &c. with some capital singing (from Dr Monro, FitzGerald and Bell). We parted in the utmost uncertainty as to our fate, having at all events resolved to have the vessel surveyed before we again embarked in her.
After breakfast next morning set off to learn what was to be done. Before reaching the Town heard a gun fired, and looking out saw the Steam of the Steamer blowing off outside the Boulder Bank. All right and ready for a start again. The Surveyors had reported her free from damage. About 3 o'clock we again got on board, and went out of Blind Bay with a steady S. Easter blowing, expecting to be off Taranaki next at daybreak. Our party increased like a snowball, by the addition of Nelson Members--the most notable Dr Monro a man of some note and prestige in these parts--an anceps medium [dangerous mean] in politics--rather inclined to Government. His wife and two children with him. A heap of single gentlemen. Much battling between the Representatives of Wellington and Nelson touching berths and a large consumption of bottled ale at dinner. Turned in about 9 o'clock. In the course of the night found from the motion of the vessel that the wind had shifted. We rolled about in a
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heavy sea. Morning [Sunday, 21 May]--thick weather, so that we could not make out the Coast, but by reckoning we ought to be off Taranaki. A head wind and bad coals so that we dragged slowly along. About midday the weather cleared off and we stood in straight for Taranaki. No Mt. Egmont visible, nothing but a cap of Clouds. Towards dusk we worked our way into the Roadstead but the light failed, and all we could see of the place were the few glimmering lights in the houses, and we could hear the tolling of a bell which we took for granted was for Evening Service. But how to get the New Plymouth Members off so as to start at once? for we had not a moment to spare. If we waited for next day we should not get to Manukau till the next midnight, and then we might fail to get in, and might have the pleasure of dancing round the North Cape. We dropped anchor and Dillon Bell and some others went on shore. In about an hour a boat returned with news that the New Plymouth Cargo would be on board before one o'clock. In fact they made their appearance to our high satisfaction about 10. Up with our Anchor and off again for Manukau. Manukau you must know is a harbour on the West Coast with a very bad reputation, so bad that it is not generally used. It is close to Auckland which lies on the East side of a narrow neck of land not 6 miles wide, Auckland Harbour being on the East and Manukau on the West. But Manukau is dangerous--till lately unknown. Capt Drury of the Pandora 11 has recently surveyed it and pronounces it perfectly accessible. We had a copy of his Chart with proper sailing directions, and the Capt. resolved if possible to make it the first Steamer to enter it. We started from Taranaki about half-past ten--beautiful weather, smooth water and hardly any wind, so we got a night's rest. Morning came [Monday, 22 May], bright warm sunshine. We were off the Coast which stretched away on our right--successions of head lands amongst which we speculated as to the whereabouts of Manukau Heads. We expected the Pilot to be on the look out for us according to specific instructions but none made his appearance. About 3 in the afternoon found ourselves off the Heads--a couple of bold head-lands with a Channel opening into a wide basin, but all about were formidable reefs and bars over which the Sea broke alarmingly even in such smooth water. One could well account for the terrors of the place. Heaven protect the poor vessel caught on such a shore with a heavy westerly gale. One or two vessels have been wrecked there. No pilot. We grow savage--we cannot venture in without, and we must lay all night off and on. The Captain will not venture to
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take her in himself with the light failing. What if a westerly gale should spring up in the night? But the night is calm, the water smooth, and we see no prognostications of change. So we go below to await the morning light when the Captain will go in by himself. A still easy night--hardly a breath of air, --the Sea goes down; nothing could be better so far as it went. Morning came [Tuesday, 23 May]--a thick bank of fog was rolling out of the mouth of the Harbour, obscuring every thing and obliterating all the points necessary for marking the course. We were obliged to wait till the fog cleared off about 10 o'clock and then in we went, through an open channel about a mile wide between frightful reefs over which the Sea broke. We were however perfectly safe; but we could well understand how it is the Harbour gets so bad a name. In truth in fine weather with an experienced Pilot there is no danger, but an ignorant man in bad weather had better be anywhere else. Nevertheless Manukau will become an important place. It is at least three days nearer to Taranaki and Nelson, and two days nearer to Wellington than Auckland itself; and the terrors of the approach only exist so long as there is want of experience and good pilotage. The opening of Manukau Harbour is not unlikely to affect Auckland slightly, carrying a good deal of the business over to the West Coast. To the Settlement in general it will be a great gain, shortening the distance between Auckland and the other Settlements wonderfully. This and Steam communication will make it moderately accessible. The Channel through the headlands may be three or four miles in length--then we open a wide half harbour half lagoon. Edging along the Northern coast line is a deep channel, navigable nearly up to Onehunga, the head of the Harbour. The scenery remarkable and novel,--instead of the Mountains closing in and overhanging as in other New Zealand Harbours, it is all wide and open. Some high lands here and there and tops of distant Mountains, but the main feature is breadth and expanse. The tide ran out as we steamed up and left a swamplike flat over which was a canopy of grey English looking sky. Several remarkable hills--extinct volcanoes (which are characteristic of Auckland) were near about us, looking like natural pyramids. Wanting the regular pilot we took on board the Master of a small craft lying at Anchor. Several Maori boats were crossing at various points, indicating traffic, but in general the air of the Harbour was deserted. Steam will soon change its character. The tide falling we were obliged to drop Anchor a mile or so from the village of Onehunga (one of the Pensioner villages) at the head of the Harbour. Then came all the bustle, confusion and discomfort of disembarkation. Hauling up luggage from the hold and preparing for landing. No sign of boats or the smallest assistance
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was visible. Nothing but the Ships' boats to land us. What to do? As to the ladies, nursery maids and children, we resolved that they should stop at Onehunga; the Gentlemen (some at least) going on to Auckland to spy out the land and forage for quarters. I was one. Started in the Captain's boat and made for land; but the water shallowed, we dodged about here and there for a landing place, and at last managed to get the boat within 20 yards of the shore. There was no help for it but to put off shoes and stockings and wade to land. We amused ourselves by imagining a pictorial representation of 'ye landyinge of ye Members of ye General Assemblie' for Punch. Poor Capt Rhodes, 12 an old skipper, a Wellington man, large and elderly, saluted his Mother Earth before he came to dry land, and rose dripping and bemoaning himself. Over the hard stones with naked feet was a walk of penance. 13 Seating ourselves on the shore in picturesque groups we restored to our lower limbs their proper integuments and then streamed along the shore with Carpet bags in hand for half a mile or so. There we found waiting for us (for the news of our arrival had somehow preceded us) divers Carriages intended to convey us to Auckland. It was now 4 o'clock. A sort of roadside public house was engaged for the ladies. I and a lot of others got into a van and started for Auckland. Up from the shore the road was piteous; a cross between a ploughed field and a quagmire--but the weather had been dry, and as every body walked for a couple of miles or so, the vehicle managed to get through it. Onehunga is one of the Pensioner villages, a crochet of Lord Grey's, who spent £100,000 in doing a small bit of bad semi-military emigration work, but the money was spent, the villages founded, neat thriving places enough, and which have produced good, though nothing proportioned to the cost. The officers in connection with these Establishments have neat houses in the neighbourhood. The Pensioners work for wages and the consequence is that the adjacent country has an air of completeness wanting in the other Settlements. 14 The Country between Auckland and Onehunga is bare of wood, but strikes one (coming from the South) from its advanced state of cultivation. Paddocks of grass enclosed with substantial stone walls, make one fancy oneself in the old world
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again. Of course it would be idle to judge of the Settlement by this small Section, but from what one hears the general character is the same for a considerable space round Auckland. There has been a large application of Labour, Maori, Pensioners, and Military, as well as the inflowings from Sydney, and a great expenditure of money from various sources, throwing a great deal of capital into private hands. The whole place is more advanced than any of the other Settlements and one could almost have fancied oneself at home, but for the Thermometer which would have suited an English May instead of November, to which May here answers.
About two miles from Onehunga the road improves--indeed becomes a good turnpike road for the remaining distance (about 4 miles) to Auckland. It was getting dusk [on Tuesday, 23 May] as we entered Auckland, descending, by a somewhat perilous sweep, a steep road into the Suburbs of the Town. Lights were glimmering from a compact mass of houses in the valley, and amongst the adjacent hills, producing an effect as of an important Town. Our van was pulled up short at the entrance of the Town by our Scotch friends from Otago who announced that they had a house for me, such as it was, and that I was lucky to get it. The Inns were crowded--Houses or Lodgings were not to be had for love or money. Found the Masonic Hotel 15 (the principal one) overflowing. A kind of Table d'hote was in preparation, and a number of us sat down with sundry people of the place to eat a scrambling uncomfortable Meal, which being done, sallied out with Mr Cargill (the Scotchman), to inspect my proposed tenement. Found it next door to a Tinman's and part of his house--unfinished, unfurnished, with bare walls, in fact a mere wooden shed, altogether unbearable except under the last compulsion. The Tinman offered me a shakedown in his house which I was glad to accept, and went to bed in a room cotenanted by the Tinman's Apprentice, and though horribly bitten by fleas managed to get a night's rest.
