  The age of dear tradition has gone by And steam has killed romance upon the sea, The newer age requires the newer men, And dying hard in corners of the world, The old hands pass forgotten to their graves. The old Colonial clipper is no more, Denied the wool freights homeward, she must seek For nitre on the South Pacific slope. She need not go to China ports for tea, She need not haunt the Hooghly for the jute, Nor beat the Gulf of Martaban for rice, Her time has come and she must pass away; Yet still she holds the passage of the Horn, And when the waterway of Panama Makes islands of the two Americas, She’ll hold the bleak old headland for her own, And round its pitch she’ll fade away and die.— John Anderson, in Nautical Magazine. The “Mayflowers” of New Zealand.THE Mayflower is a name which every school-child in the United States is taught to reverence. In this part of Colonial Clippers I shall deal with the Mayflowers of New Zealand—the beautiful sailing ships which brought the settlers from the Old Country to the wonderful New Country. The memory of these ships and their swift passages round the Cape and through the roaring forties is still green in the hearts of many a man and woman who travelled out to an unknown land with a stout heart and nothing much else, and is now a prosperous and happy member of a great nation. Only lately there Truly running down the easting in a little 1000-ton clipper with a hard driving skipper and big fisted, stony-hearted mates was a fine bracer for the emigrant, who had perhaps never seen salt water up to the date of sailing and who was bound to a country which could only be wooed and won by a clear brain, stout heart and strong arm. At first the ships in the New Zealand trade were not even 1000 tons in burthen, being mainly little 400 and 500-ton ships and barques, which mostly flew the flag of Shaw, Savill & Co. The “Edwin Fox.”Of such was the Edwin Fox, a country-built Indiaman from Calcutta, built as far back as 1853, with teak decks, quarter galleries, coir running gear and all the quaint characteristics of the East. The hull of this “old timer” is still to be seen, being now used as a landing stage for the freezing works at Picton. “Wild Duck.”Another favourite passenger ship in the early days was the Wild Duck, commanded by Captain Shaw, Savill & Co.The well-known firm of Shaw, Savill & Co. started sending ships to New Zealand about 65 years ago, making 15 sailings a year. At first the outward passage took four or five months, and it was not until the sixties that there was any marked improvement in the time between England and New Zealand, but by the end of the sixties Shaw, Savill had several fast little iron ships, the best known of which were the Crusader, Helen Denny and Margaret Galbraith. The following is a rather incomplete list of their earlier ships:—
Space forbids more than a few odd notes on the best known of these ships. The “Crusader.”The Crusader was a very handsome little ship, as is well shown in her photograph, and she was considered by many to be the fastest ship in Shaw, Savill’s fleet. She was built by Connell, of Glasgow, and launched in March, 1865, her registered measurements being:—Net tonnage 1058; gross tonnage 1058; length 210.7 ft.; breadth 35.1 ft., depth 21.4 ft. In 1877, when commanded by Captain Renaut, she ran from Lyttelton, N.Z., to the Lizard in 69 days, and on her next outward passage in 1878 she went from London to Port Chalmers in 65 days, a performance which has never been beaten. She was eventually sold to the Norwegians for £2950 and was still washing about the seas, rigged as a barque, at the outbreak of the Great War. “Helen Denny” and “Margaret Galbraith.”The little Helen Denny was the last of the fleet to remain under the British flag. She once ran from the longitude of the Cape to New Zealand in 23 days, a really remarkable feat for a small iron barque. She was built by the great Robert Duncan, of Port Glasgow, and was eventually sold by Shaw, Savill, to Christie, of Lyttelton, N.Z., who resold her to Captain F. Holm, of Wellington, N.Z.; she ran regularly in the inter-colonial trade until the end of 1913, being latterly commanded and owned by Captain S. Holm, a son of Margaret Galbraith was another little Duncan beauty, and for many years a regular passenger ship to Otago. It is surprising to think of these little ships carrying passengers right up to the eighties. Their measurements were:— Helen Denny, 728 tons; 187.5 feet length; 31.2 feet beam; 19.1 feet depth. Margaret Galbraith, 841 tons; 198.5 feet length; 32.2 feet beam; 19.9 feet depth. The Margaret Galbraith was sold to the Manica Trading Co., of London. She left Colonia on 26th March, 1905, for Buenos Ayres with a cargo of grain and crew of 13 all told; and whilst in charge of a pilot grounded on Farollon reef, and as she was badly holed her captain abandoned her. End of Some of Shaw, Savill’s Earlier Ships.Zealandia was a Connell built ship. After being sold to the Swedes, she was resold to the Russians, and her name changed to Kaleva. She was stranded in March, 1911, but refloated and again sold to Charles Brister & Son, of Halifax, Nova Scotia. Pleiades was built by McMillan, of Dumbarton. As late as 1893 she made a good run from New Zealand to the Lizard. She was wrecked at Akiteo, when bound round in ballast from Napier to Dunedin to load wool home. The Halcione was specially built for the New Zealand trade with ? iron plates backed with 3 feet of cement, her saloon was insulated with charcoal, and she had 200 tons of cement stiffening. She was built by Steele, of Greenock, and was lost in 1895 in Fitzroy Bay near Pincarrow Heads, outside Wellington. The Euterpe was sold to the Chileans, and for some years was to be seen in the South Pacific rigged as a barque. Then the Alaska Packers bought her and renamed her Star of India. I believe she is still afloat. The Himalaya was also sold to the Alaska Packers Co., and renamed Star of Peru. The Soukar was sold to the Spaniards and registered at Barcelona under the name of Humberto. She has been broken up. The Glenlora went to the Scandinavians and was still afloat at the outbreak of the Great War. The Hudson is also a Scandinavian barque at the present time. The Merope was burnt whilst homeward bound, being off the Plate at the time. Another well-known early Shaw, Savill emigrant ship to be burnt at sea was the Caribou, of 1160 tons; she was a wood ship and her cargo of coal caught fire in the year 1869. The Shaw, Savill ships were rather unlucky with fires and collisions, their worst disaster being, of course, the loss of the Cospatrick, Dunbar’s old frigate-built ship, which they bought in 1873 for £10,000. The tragedy happened on her second voyage under Shaw, Savill’s house-flag. The Loss of the “Cospatrick.”The Cospatrick sailed from London for Auckland on the 11th September, 1874, with general cargo, 429 passengers and a crew of 44 men under Captain Elmslie. Tuesday, 17th November, found the ship to the south’ard of the Cape, the wind being very light from the nor’west. And here is the tragedy as it was given by Henry Macdonald, the second mate, one of the three survivors. He stated that after keeping the first watch, he had not been long below when he was aroused The first thing to do was to get the ship’s head before the wind, at the same time the fire engine was rigged, and soon the fore part of the ship was being deluged with water. But somehow or other the ship was allowed to come head to wind, which drove the smoke aft in suffocating clouds. From this moment all discipline seems to have been lost; flames began to burst forth in the ’tween decks and out through every scuttle and air vent, and they were soon roaring up the tarred shrouds, so that within an hour and a half of the discovery of the fire the flames had got such a hold that the ship was doomed. The emigrants now took panic, and, shouting and screaming, made a rush for the boats. The starboard quarter boat was lowered down, but immediately she touched the water such a crowd of demented emigrants swarmed down the ship’s side into her that she was capsized. Whilst the longboat was being swung out of her chocks, her bow caught fire, and in the end only the port and starboard lifeboats got safely away from the ship’s side, the one with 42 and the other with 39 people. “CRUSADER.” Larger image (227 kB) “COSPATRICK.” Photo by De Maus. Larger image (219 kB) The two boats stayed by the ship until the afternoon of the 19th, when she sank beneath the waves, a blackened, charred and smoking hull. One can scarcely imagine the horror of the scene during this weary waiting for the end of the ship. The people in the boats watched the main and mizen mast fall, and heard shrieks from the crowded after part of the ship, as many But the tragedy was far from finished with the sinking of the ship. Owing to the panic and confusion the 81 survivors in the boats had only their night clothes and were without food or water, mast or sail, and the starboard lifeboat of which the second mate took command had only one oar. The rest of the horrible story is best told in Henry Macdonald’s own words, and the following is his statement, given at the inquiry afterwards:— The two boats kept company the 20th and 21st, when it commenced to blow, and we got separated during the night. I whistled and shouted, but when daylight came we could see nothing of the other boat. Thirst began to tell severely on all of us. A man named Bentley fell overboard while steering the boat and was drowned. Three men became mad that day and died. We then threw the bodies overboard. On the 23rd, the wind was blowing hard and a high sea running. We were continually bailing the water out. We rigged a sea anchor and rode to it; but it was only made fast to the end of the boat’s painter, and we lost it. Four men died, and we were so hungry and thirsty that we drank the blood and ate the livers of two of them. We lost our only oar then. On the 24th, there was a strong gale, and we rigged another sea anchor, making it fast with anything we could get. There were six more deaths that day. She shipped water till she was nearly full. On the 25th there was a light breeze and it was awful hot. We were reduced that day to eight, and three of them out of their minds. We all felt very bad that day. Early on the morning of the 26th, not being daylight, a boat passed close to us running. We hailed but got no answer. She was not more than 50 yards off. She was a foreigner. I think she must have heard us. One more died that day. We kept on sucking the blood of those who died. The 27th was squally all round, but we never caught a drop of water, although we tried to do it. Two more died that day. We threw one overboard, but were too weak to lift the other. There were then five left—two able seamen, one ordinary, myself and one passenger. The passenger was out of his mind. All had drunk sea water. We were all dozing, when the madman bit my foot, and I So ends the second mate’s statement. The passenger and ordinary seaman both died a day or two after they were rescued, thus, out of 473 souls on the Cospatrick, only three men were saved, the second mate and the two able seamen. The Loss of the “Avalanche.”The Avalanche was another Shaw, Savill ship which took down all but three of its company. She was outward bound to Wellington with 60 passengers, under Captain Williams, in September, 1877. At 8.45 p.m. when off Portland, she was on the port tack, the wind blowing strong from the S.W., when a red light was sighted on the starboard bow. The officer of the watch gave the order “hard up” and “brail in the spanker,” but the other ship, which was evidently running up Channel, came straight on, and as the Avalanche fell off struck her right amidships on the port side. Three of the crew of the Avalanche managed to clamber aboard the other ship, which was the Forest of Windsor, Nova Scotia, and these three, the third mate named Sherrington and two A.B.’s, were the only ones saved. The Forest also sank, but managed to launch four boats in safety. These were picked up by fishermen the following morning and landed at Portland. “WILD DEER.” Photo by De Maus, Port Chalmers. Larger image (231 kB) “WILD DEER.” Lent by Captain T. S. Angus. Larger image (233 kB) Patrick Henderson’s Albion Shipping Company.The chief rival of the Shaw, Savill before the advent of the New Zealand Shipping Company was Patrick Henderson, who owned the Albion Shipping The “Wild Deer.”The fastest of these China ships was the Wild Deer. She was launched from Connell’s yard in December, 1863, being his thirteenth ship; and was composite built with iron topsides, teak planking to turn of bilge and elm bottom. She had a beautiful figure-head of the goddess “Diana,” and was altogether a fine example of an out and out tea clipper. Her measurements taken from Lloyd’s Register were as follows:—
Her poop was 42 feet long, and her foc’s’le-head 31 feet. She came out in 1863 with Cunningham’s patent single topsails, but owing to her dismasting was one of the earliest ships to send aloft double topsail yards. The following are the original spar measurements of her mainmast:—
Wild Deer was taken from the stocks by Captain George Cobb, a well-known racing skipper in the China tea trade who had previously commanded the Robin Hood. Her complement consisted of 3 mates, 3 apprentices, carpenter, sailmaker and bosun, 16 A.B.’s and 3 ordinary seamen, it being intended to ship 4 more A.B.’s in China in the event of her getting into the race home with the cracks. On her maiden passage she lost her foremast in the North Atlantic, owing to the want of angle irons, as Titania did a few years later, and this lost Wild Deer her chance of loading the first teas of the season. She had to put into Lisbon to refit, and came out of the Tagus with a very mixed sail plan; on the foremast she had an old-fashioned single topsail with three rows of reef points, on the main double topsails and on the mizen her original Cunningham’s patent single topsail. Her first two tea passages from Shanghai were good average runs, but nothing remarkable, her best work being 72 days from Anjer in 1865. In 1866 she left London on 16th April and arrived at Shanghai on 29th July, 104 days out. Again she did not succeed in getting away with the first ships, but leaving Shanghai on 10th September she made Portland on Christmas Day. A fine S.S.W. breeze was blowing and Wild Deer was romping along under all plain sail and starboard fore topmast stunsail, when the American schooner yacht, Henrietta, the winner of the first ocean yacht race, hauled out from the land and, closing on the clipper, hoisted her colours and asked her name. The late Gordon Bennett, her owner, was on board the yacht, and evidently wished to try her paces against the tea ship, as the Henrietta held on in company with Wild Deer for an hour or two, then bore away for the Needles. On this passage whilst crossing the Indian Ocean in the S.E. trades, Wild Deer made three consecutive 24-hour runs of 312, 312 and 327 miles. On the outward passage in 1867, Captain Cobb had to be landed ill at Anjer and died shortly afterwards. His place was taken by a Hollander skipper. The Dutchman took Wild Deer on to Shanghai and loaded tea, then leaving Shanghai in August he took the Eastern Passage, but when he had cleared Dampier Straits took it into his head to alter his course for Anjer. This absolutely spoilt Wild Deer’s chance of a quick passage, as she had to thread her way up the Java Sea through a succession of light airs and calms, and actually took 84 days to Anjer. This was a great pity for she made a splendid run home from the Straits of Sunda, arriving in the Thames in January, only 68 days from Anjer, but 152 from Shanghai. In 1868 her wings were cut, 3 feet being taken off her lower masts. She was then handed over to a Captain Smith; unfortunately Smith was a regular old woman, but she was fortunate in getting Duncan as mate. This man had served in Ariel and Titania as chief officer, and was one of the best mates in the China trade, being specially noted for his skilful handling of sails in bad weather. Wild Deer got away from London at the end of March, and left Shanghai with a tea cargo towards the end of July, a week behind one of Skinner’s beautiful little ships, the Douglas Castle. In spite of Duncan’s remonstrances, Captain Smith, who was frightened of the Caspar Straits, determined to go east about; but the Wild Deer had so good a start south through the Formosa Channel that old Smith plucked up his courage and held on for Gaspar. The very first day after he had changed his mind, Wild Deer ran into the S.W. monsoon and had to be braced sharp up. The following morning about daybreak a ship crossed her bows on the other tack. This proved to be the Douglas Castle, and the two ships were in company all the way to Gaspar, except whilst passing Tamberlan Islands, which Wild Deer went east of, and the Douglas west. The ships were evidently very well matched in light winds, but the Wild Deer was handicapped by the want of courage in her skipper. The night before the Straits were made it was clear moonlight, the sea dead smooth and there was a nice little breeze blowing; both ships were close-hauled on the port tack, with Wild Deer about a quarter of a mile to windward, neither ship gaining an inch. Then at the change of the watch at midnight, old Smith backed his mainyard, clewed up his light sails and waited for morning, but young Captain McRitchie of the Douglas Castle, a far smarter man and the real sort of skipper for a tea clipper, held on, with the result that when the Wild Deer filled away again at daylight the Douglas Castle had a lead of several miles. Soon after sun up another ship was observed getting under weigh close to Billiton, where she had evidently anchored for the night; this proved to be the Peter Denny from Foochow—another of Patrick Henderson’s ships. All three ships now had a fine trial of strength in the beat through Gaspar Straits. In this windward work the Peter Denny showed up best, being by far the quickest ship at going about, but she was commanded by a very smart sailorman, Captain George Adams, who had everything arranged for quick working, whilst old Smith was specially slow at getting the Wild Deer At 10 a.m. the Douglas Castle kept away for the Macclesfield Channel, and about noon Wild Deer made for Clements Channel, whilst the Peter Denny held on for the Stolze; this would save her tacking again once she was clear of the Straits, as the S.E. monsoon was blowing steadily in the Java Sea. Thus the ships were parted for a time. That night was another clear moonlight night with a nice little breeze. During the first watch the Brothers were sighted on the Wild Deer, and Duncan reported them to Captain Smith, who was lying asleep on the skylight. Smith, however, had none of the alertness of a crack China trader and went off into a heavy sleep again, then during the middle watch he woke up like a bear with a sore head and asked the big Highland second mate if he had seen the Brothers yet. Of course the second mate said he had not seen them, as they had been passed whilst his watch was below. At this old Smith got in a panic; the mainyard was backed, the courses hauled up and the royal yards lowered down. On coming on deck at 4 a.m. Duncan found to his amazement that the ship was hove to, and to his disgust that one of the others had passed her during the night whilst she lay with her head under her wing. On finding out the reason from the second mate, he roused out the “Old Man” and reminded him that he had reported the Brothers during the first watch. And you may be sure that it was “jump and go” for the crew until the Wild Deer was off again. The wind fell light as the ship approached Sunda Straits, and as Wild Deer crawled towards Anjer the other two ships were sighted ahead, almost becalmed. Wild Deer managed to avoid the calm patch by going to the norrard of Thwarttheway Island and Krakatoa, and thus stole a march on her rivals; however, they finally came out of the Straits, neck and neck. Just before dark the S.E. trade came away. Wild Deer was still leading, but the Douglas Castle was so close astern that each crew could hear the other singing out as they trimmed sail for the run across the trades. The next morning found Wild Deer still in the lead with the other two ships one on each quarter, and the following day the three ships separated until they were off the Cape. Then, on a day of baffling and squally winds the Wild Deer and Douglas Castle passed each other on opposite tacks, the Douglas signalling that she had spoken the Denny that morning. The Wild Deer found a head wind in the mouth of the Channel, but eventually after two days’ beating a fine slashing breeze came out of the south-west. At Dungeness the pilot had no news of the other two ships; but just as the Wild Deer was making fast to her buoy at Gravesend the Douglas Castle came up, and, as she passed, hailed to say that the Peter Denny was close astern. Unfortunately for Wild Deer she remained under the command of Captain Smith for several more voyages, during which she was not allowed to show her paces and usually arrived home in such a condition that Captain Sellers, the ship’s-husband (a good old name for the present day shore superintendent) used to declare that she was a disgrace to the Albion fleet. However, on Captain Smith’s death Captain Cowan had her for two voyages, carrying emigrants to New Zealand; on Cowan leaving her to take the Wellington from the stocks, Captain Kilgour, who had been mate Then Captain Kerr had her; this man had been carpenter of the Peter Denny years before, and mate of the Christian McCausland, one of Henderson’s first iron ships. He was a very steady man, but no sailor. On 12th January, 1883, when outward bound with emigrants, he piled the poor old Wild Deer up on North Rock, Cloghy, County Down, and she became a total loss. Duncan’s Method of Taking in Sail.It may be of interest, perhaps, to describe the method used by Duncan, the crack racing mate of Ariel, Titania, and Wild Deer, when taking in sail. For a topgallant sail he sent as many men as were available to the lee buntline and leachline; one hand, generally an apprentice, stood by the clewline, and another attended to the weather brace. Duncan himself would ease away a few feet of the halliards, then sing out:—“Let go your lee sheet!” Away would fly the sheet, followed by Duncan letting go the halliards; the hands on the buntline and leachline hauling away for all they were worth, the yard would run down and round itself in so that the boy on the weather brace only had to take in the slack. With smart hands on bunt and leachlines, the lee side of the sail would be spilt and up on the yard before it was well down and the apprentice on the clewline had only to get in the slack and make it fast. The lee side of the sail being well up, there was no trouble with the weather side. A hand in the top was almost unnecessary as the lee sheet needed no lighting up—it did that itself quick enough. The success of this method, of course, depended on the In taking in a course Duncan used to man the lee bunt and leachlines well, with two hands only on the clew garnet; on the sheet being eased away bunt and leachlines were hauled smartly in, the sail was at once spilt and hauled up to the yard without a flap, the slack of the clew garnet being rounded up; then there was no trouble with the weather side. This is also the method advocated by Captain Basil Hall in his Fragments of Voyages. Everything depended, of course, on having the necessary beef on the bunt and leachlines. “Peter Denny.”The Peter Denny was built by Duthie, of Aberdeen, of teak and greenheart with iron knees in the ’tween decks, and measured 998 tons. She was not a very fast ship, her best run in the westerlies being 285 miles, but she was a very handy-easy working ship and, still better, a very comfortable happy ship. She was also well run and beautifully kept under Captain Adams. The Albion Shipping Company, 1869 Ships.In 1869 Duncan, of Glasgow, built the two fine little composite ships, James Nicol Fleming (afterwards renamed the Napier) and the Otago, for Patrick Henderson. They were sister ships of 993 tons register. Their top strake and bulwarks were of iron, but their bottoms were of wood with pure copper sheathing. The Otago, by the way, must not be confused with a little iron barque of 346 tons, which was owned in Adelaide and at one time commanded by Joseph Conrad. Patrick Henderson’s Otago was eventually sold to the Portuguese and renamed Ermilla. She was torpedoed and sunk by the Germans early in the war. It was in 1869 that Patrick Henderson made his first venture in iron ships, Scott, of Greenock, building him the two sister ships Jessie Readman and Christian McCausland, of 962 tons register. These were fine handy little ships, good for 11 knots on a taut bowline, and equally good off the wind. They made very good outward passages with their ’tween decks full of emigrants, and loaded wool home. In those early days all the New Zealand wool was pressed on board before being stowed; this was generally done by a temporary crew of beachcombers, as it was the regular thing for a crew to run on arrival in the Colonies, however comfortable the ship was. The crew picked up for the run home was usually a fine one, of real sailormen, who had tired of the land after a short spell of working ashore. The “Christian McCausland” Loses her Wheel.In 1873, on the run to the Horn, when homeward bound loaded deep with wool and tallow (it was just before the days of Plimsoll) the Christian McCausland had her wheel washed away, and the incident, as showing what a beautiful steering ship she was, is worth recording. Being very deep, she was making a wet passage of it running before the high westerly seas, and taking a good deal of heavy water aboard, especially in the waist. About eight days after leaving port she was running before a fresh gale on the starboard quarter, under reefed foresail, reefed upper topsails, and fore topmast staysail, the only sail set on the mizen being the lower topsail. Soon after the change of the watch at 4 a.m., two heavy seas broke over the poop in quick succession, and washed away the wheel, which with the helmsman clinging to it was only brought up by the rail at the break of the poop. The mate, whose watch it was, ran forward, singing out for all hands, and as he went, let go the topsail halliards. The ship, however, made no attempt to broach to, and ran along as steadily as if someone was at the helm. As soon as possible the relieving tackles were rigged, and it was found that with five men on each tackle the ship could be steered without any difficulty. So the topsails were hoisted again and away she went. The gear connecting the wheel to the rudder head was the usual right and left handed screws, which were luckily undamaged. These no doubt acted as a brake on the spindle and had a good deal to do with stopping the ship from coming up in the wind when the wheel went. The wheel and helmsman were found at the break of the poop, the man unhurt, but the wheel with every spoke broken through close to the nave as if cut by a saw. During the morning watch the weather moderated and the carpenter was able to unship the nave of the wheel, and it was found that one of the main winch handles fitted the spindle as if made for it. This was put on the spindle, and the ship was actually steered by turning the winch handle, the helmsman facing the ship’s side and looking over his shoulder at the compass. Later on, the captain improved this curious method of steering, by lashing a small handspike to the vertical arm of the winch handle, which gave the helmsman much more command and also allowed him to stand upright. And in three days the carpenter fitted the “CHRISTIAN McCAUSLAND.” Photo by De Maus, Port Chalmers. Larger image (209 kB) “PIAKO.” Larger image (206 kB) After having four ships on the stocks in 1869, Patrick Henderson remained content with his fleet until 1874. His ships were always painted black with gold stripe and gingerbread work, whilst Shaw, Savill’s were painted green. When the two firms amalgamated in 1882, all their ships came out with painted ports and lead colour under the ports. The Origin of the Albion House-flag.The Albion house-flag, a French flag with a small Union Jack in the centre, is supposed to have originated during the Crimean War. It is said that one of their early vessels carried both French and British troops at the same time, and for this reason flew a Union Jack and a French tricolour side by side on separate flagstaffs on the stern—this being later improved upon by the well-known Henderson house-flag. The New Zealand Shipping Company.During the early years of the Colony Shaw, Savill and P. Henderson had practically all the carrying trade in their hands. Occasionally an outsider took a load of emigrants out to New Zealand, such as the White Star liner Chariot of Fame, but the big Liverpool emigrant ships were really too big for the small volume of trade at that time. However, as both emigration Full of enthusiasm, push and go, the promoters of the N.Z.S. Co. were determined from the first to have a line worthy to class with the Blackwall frigates of Green & Wigram. They had, of course, a great deal to learn, and mistakes were made but never repeated; and so great was their energy that in the first three years of their existence they chartered and despatched no less than 150 ships, carrying 28,675 passengers to the Colony. And before the company was ten years old it owned 16 up-to-date iron clippers, most of which had been built specially for them. From the start the N.Z.S. Co. proceeded on generous lines, their ships being always well found, well manned and most liberally kept up. Their officers, also, considered themselves the aristocrats of the trade and rather looked down on the more economical Shaw, Savill and Albion clippers, whom they nicknamed the “Starvation Stars,” in allusion to the stars in their house-flag, which by the way is the proper New Zealand flag which Queen Victoria presented to the Maoris. The ships built for the N.Z.S. Co. were none of them specially fast; they aimed chiefly at safety and comfort for their passengers. All these ships were built of iron, the finest and fastest of the fleet being the beautiful little Turakina, which originally belonged to George Smith of the well-known City Line, being then called the City
The Pareora was broken up in 1889. The Waitara came to her end by colliding with the Hurunui in the English Channel on 22nd June, 1883. The Rangitiki was sold to the Norwegians and renamed Dalston. She was resold in 1909 for £1500 and went to New Caledonia as a hulk. The Waimea was sold to the Norwegians and wrecked on the South African Coast in 1902. The Mataura brought the first cargo of frozen meat from New Zealand, arriving on 26th September, 1882, being fitted with Haslam’s patent dry air refrigerator. She was then rigged as a barque. She was eventually sold to the Norwegians and renamed Alida. On 24th August, 1900, she was dismasted in the Pacific and abandoned. The Raikaia also went to the Norwegians and was The Waikato was sold to the Germans and her name changed to J. C. Pfluger. They sold her in 1900 to Californian owners, who sailed her out of Frisco rigged as a barquentine. She is now a hulk disguised under the name of Coronado. The Waimate, from noon on 26th November to noon 27th November, in 1881, covered 354 miles in the 23½-hour day running the easting down in lat. 47° S. In the p.m. the sea was smooth and the wind gradually freshening, Captain Mosey who was making his first voyage in the ship, hung on to his main royal until the first watch, the wind being on the port quarter. By daybreak the wind was dead aft with bright sunshine and a clear sky, but with a very big sea running. Her best week’s run was from the 27th November to 3rd December, being 1807 miles. Waimate was a skysail yarder, and with the wind abaft the beam could be made to travel, but she was nothing extraordinary with the yards on the backstays. She was once in company with Shaw, Savill’s Marlborough off the Snares. With the wind free she had the best of it, but as soon as they hauled up to stand along the New Zealand Coast the Marlborough passed her without any trouble. Two years later Waimate, with Captain Mosey still in command, ran from Lyttelton to the Scillies in 71 days. She was sold by the N.Z.S. Co. to the Russians and renamed Valkyrian. She went missing in 1899. Waitangi is still afloat flying Norwegian colours under the name of Agda. Hurunui is also, I believe, still afloat under the Russian flag, her name being Hermes. Orari was sold to the Italians in 1906 and converted into a hulk in 1909. “Otaki’s” Record Passage Home.Otaki is famous for her wonderful run home in 1877. She left Port Chalmers with Captain J. F. Millman in command at 4 p.m. on 11th March; was becalmed for four days off the New Zealand Coast; was then 22 days to the Horn; reached the Lizard 63 days out from her departure, and docked in London 69 days out. During this passage she only had eight hours of head winds. Otaki was nothing special in the way of sailing and never made more than 10 knots, so her passage must really be put down to amazing good luck. She was bought by the Germans and renamed Dr. Siegert, being wrecked in 1896. Waipa went to the Norwegians in her old age, and I believe she is still afloat under the name of Munter. Wairoa was bought by the Russians and renamed Winnipeg. She went missing in 1907 whilst bound from Pensacola to Buenos Ayres. Opawa and Piako were two beautiful little ships. In 1877 Opawa went from the London Docks to New Zealand and home again with wool in 6 months 9 days. And in 1893 she made the passage New Zealand to Liverpool in 83 days. She was still afloat in quite recent years under the name of Aquila and Norwegian colours. The sister ship Piako went missing in 1900 on a passage from Melbourne to the Cape, being then German owned. The Wanganui, last ship built for the firm, was still afloat when the war started as the Norwegian barque Blenheim. “Turakina” ex-“City of Perth.”I have left the Turakina to the last, as she deserves a longer notice, being one of the most beautiful little iron ships that ever left the ways. She was built of extra thick plates and launched in May, 1868, for Smith’s famous City Line to Calcutta. The following interesting account of her in her early days appeared in the Nautical Magazine in 1917:— I sailed in this vessel when she was three years old, under Captain Beckett, a native of Saltcoats, Firth of Clyde. Captain Beckett would have no foreigners or negroes sail with him, either as officers or sailors, and he was one of the most upright and good-living men I ever sailed under, and I went to sea first in 1858. His policy was the same for the men as for the cabin, with plenty of good food, no allowance, sufficient without waste, and plenty of work to keep the scurvy out of the bones, as the sailors said. We left the Clyde at latter end of September, 1871, with a general cargo for Calcutta. We soon got out of the St. George’s Channel, and got all the studding sail gear rigged ready for the first favourable wind, and that occurred in lat. 43° N., long. 14° 15' W. We then set topgallant, royal, topmast, and square lower stunsails, watersails, ringtail and ringtail watersail, Jamie Green and save-alls every place where a sail could be set; wind N.W. but gradually increasing to a gale. However we kept everything on her. On the second day after everything had been set, about 11 a.m., we sighted a ship ahead of us; by 2 p.m. we were up alongside of her. She was a New York full-rigged ship from the Tyne for California. The American captain asked us where we were bound from and where bound to. The whole of his crew came and looked at us, and her master cried to our captain that we were the prettiest sight he had ever seen. Our ship was going fully 17 knots when we passed her, and in three hours we had left her completely out of sight. I have been in many ships in my time, but never one to equal her for speed. She was built by Connell, on the Clyde, and she was certainly that firm’s masterpiece. She was iron, and one of the most beautiful models you could look at in the water. The Thermopylae was the largest of the China clippers. She was 948 tons, but the City was 1189 tons. She was a far more powerful ship. I have been in many cracks, but I never saw anything that could look at her in a strong breeze, and as for running in a heavy gale she would run before the heaviest gale that ever blew. “TURAKINA” ex “CITY OF PERTH.” Photo by De Maus, Port Chalmers. Larger image (215 kB) “OTAKI” becalmed. Lent by F. G. Layton. Larger image (235 kB) And he goes on to give the following week’s work from the N.E. trades to Sandy Hook. Left Calcutta, 16th January, 1872, for New York. Arrived at New York on 5th April, 1872. Below are the position and runs in nautical miles. 29th March, 1872, position at noon, lat. 28° 01' N., long. 30° 00' W. 30th March, 1872, position at noon, lat. 30° 40' N., long. 35° 56' W. distance 298. 31st March, 1872, position at noon, lat. 32° 14' N., long. 41° 44' W. distance 300. 1st April, 1872, position at noon, lat. 33° 55' N., long. 48° 35' W. distance 363. 2nd April, 1872, position at noon, lat. 35° 30' N., long. 55° 39' W. distance 350. 3rd April, 1872, position at noon, lat. 36° 51' N., long. 62° 36' W. distance 350. 4th April, 1872, position at noon, lat. 38° 40' N., long. 69° 10' W. distance 345. 5th April, 1872, position at noon, lat. 40° 29' N., long. 73° 58' W. distance 342. Time 170 hours. Nautical miles 2348. I do not agree with all his distances, but anyhow it is a wonderful week’s work and probably the quickest run into New York from 28° N., 30° W., ever made by a sailing ship. During the seventies Messrs. George Smith & Sons generally sent one or two of their fastest ships out to Australia for a wool cargo home; and in 1873, 1874 and 1875 City of Perth went out to Melbourne and loaded wool home. Her outward passages ran to over 80 days, but in 1874 Captain Beckett made the fine run of 81 days to the Thames. Owing to the exporters of wool insisting that her bottom was foul, she was docked, with her cargo on board, in the Alfred Graving Dock the day before she sailed. Her bottom was found to be clean, but Captain Beckett took the opportunity to give her a coat of tallow, and leaving on the following day, 15th November, he After this she went back to the Calcutta trade until 1881, when she left London under Captain McDonald for Canterbury, N.Z., and went on to Timaru and loaded wheat. She completed her loading, and on 13th May, 1882, was lying at anchor in the inner anchorage close to the Ben Venue, when it came on to blow with a big sea making. 8.30 a.m. on the 14th found the Ben Venue with two anchors and the City of Perth with three, riding out a furious gale. But the outlook was very bad especially for the little Ben Venue which had a heavy list to starboard, being almost on her beam ends. Four hours later one of Ben Venue’s cables parted and she began to drag, and about 1 o’clock stranded in Caroline Bay. About the same time City of Perth was also seen to be dragging her anchors and soon afterwards drifted ashore to the north of Ben Venue, but further seaward. Captain McDonald tried to send a boat ashore, but she capsized and the ship’s second mate and carpenter were both drowned and the mate had his leg broken. Meanwhile great rescue efforts were made from the shore, the lifeboat was launched, but she also capsized and six of her crew were drowned, including the harbour-master of Timaru. The gale had moderated sufficiently by the 19th to attempt towing the City of Perth off, but without success. Her partner in misfortune, the beautiful After the failure to get the City of Perth afloat her cargo was got out of her, and with an empty hold she was at last towed off successfully. She was then surveyed and sold, her hull and gear only fetching £900. She was next towed round to Port Chalmers and docked there on 1st July, when it was found that the rudder was carried away, with about 20 feet of the keelson and keel, besides five bottom plates very much damaged. It speaks well for the ship, considering the pounding she must have undergone, that the damage was not worse. Again she was sold privately for £500, I am not certain whether the N.Z.S. Co. bought her on this occasion or after her arrival in London after being patched up. If they did, they got a wonderful bargain, though they might have had a still better, for whilst she was lying stranded she was offered for sale by auction and only a few pounds bid for her. After being repaired and refitted, she was sent to Invercargill to load for London; and she left Invercargill on 13th April, 1883, in charge of Captain McFarlane, arriving safely in the Thames on 8th July after a good passage of 86 days. Here she had a thorough refit, and finally left London on 24th October, 1883, under a new captain, with the name of Turakina on her stern and flying the N.Z.S. Co. house-flag. She arrived at Auckland on 19th January, 1884, 86 days out. During the next few years we find her in charge of a Captain Power, who was evidently not a sail carrier, for she did nothing remarkable whilst he had her. In 1885, on her passage home from Otago, she survived The equator was crossed on 3rd May, 28 days from the Horn. She had light trades followed by moderate southerly winds to the Western Isles, then light southerly and easterly winds, with thick fog to the Wight, where she picked up her tug, arriving in the Thames on 11th June, 94 days out. Like most of the New Zealand clippers Turakina was fitted with refrigerating machinery in the late eighties, and it was as a frozen meat ship under Captain Hamon that she made her name as a passage maker in the New Zealand trade. In 1892 she left Gisborne and arrived home on 31st May, 78 days out. In 1893 she left Timaru for Liverpool on 2nd February, but carried away her mainyard on the first night out and had to put back to Lyttelton to repair damages. This spoilt her passage. In 1894 she signalled off the Lizard on 27th May, only 69 days out from Wellington, and docked in the London River, 71 days out. In 1895 she made the Wight on 1st July, 73 days out from Port Chalmers. On her previous outward passage she had distinguished herself by sailing past the company’s steamer Ruapehu. The following account of this incident was given me by one of the officers of the steamship:— On the 14th February, 1895, in lat. 46° 15' S., long. 68° 16' E., the N.Z.S. Co.’s mail steamer Ruapehu was running her easting down under whole topsails and courses, the weather dirty and a strong wind from the norrard, force 7 Beaufort scale. At 9 a.m. a sailing ship was reported astern, topgallant sails up. Shortly after she sheeted home her royals. Orders were given on the Ruapehu to the engineer to drive the ship and topgallant sails were set, the patent log showing a good 14. At noon exactly the N.Z.S. Co.’s sailing ship Turakina passed along our lee side. She was then carrying all square sail except mizen royal and topgallant sail (probably griping a good deal). She was right alongside and you could distinguish the features of the officers, and see the seas breaking over her—I have a very good photo. She then hauled her wind and crossed our bow, at the same time shortening sail to topsails, reef in mainsail and furled crossjack; even then she held her own with us during a long summer evening light, till 9.30 there she was just ahead on the port bow. Next day at noon we had run 315 miles. At midnight the wind came aft and she was therefore not in sight from masthead at daylight. It was a wonderful performance and made a man feel glad to be alive to see it. And the Turakina held her own for 14 days. She covered the 5000 miles between the meridians of the Cape and the Leeuwin, in 16 days, her best runs being 328, 316 and 308. I am glad to say that the gallant little ship is still afloat under the name of Elida, owned in Tordesstrand. In 1912 she was in Rio at the same time as the Portuguese Ferreira ex-Cutty Sark. I wonder how many of the shipping people there realized that two of the fastest and most beautiful sailing ships ever built were lying at anchor in their wonderful harbour. Before leaving the Turakina, I must not omit to give her official measurements from Lloyd’s Register:—
Robert Duncan’s Six Beautiful Sister Ships.In 1874 Patrick Henderson launched out by ordering six iron passenger clippers from Robert Duncan and two from Scott, of Greenock, and of the big fleet of splendid iron ships built in the seventies there were few more perfect specimens of the shipbuilders’ art than these eight ships. The following are the measurements of the Duncan ships:—
“AKAROA.” Larger image (226 kB) “INVERCARGILL,” off Tairoa Heads. Lent by F. G. Layton. Larger image (236 kB) All these ships, with the exception of Dunedin, which went missing when homeward bound with frozen meat in 1889, were sailing the seas in the twentieth century, and until Shaw, Savill sold them in 1904-5 were still making good passages. Even after they had ceased to carry emigrants, their outward passages were constantly under 80 days; and the frozen mutton did not affect their homeward runs as much as one would expect, for The Canterbury was credited with a run out of 64 days. She was at her best off the wind in a strong breeze. She was still afloat at the outbreak of the war, owned in Tordesstrand, Norway. Invercargill, under Captain Bowling, had many excellent passages to her credit. Captain Bowling was a native of Kingstown, in Ireland, and started his sea life in the China trade. He commanded the Invercargill for 13 years, at the end of which time he had been 50 years at sea and 30 years in command of sailing ships. He was one of Shaw, Savill’s most trusted commanders and was noted for the way in which he handled his beautiful ship. Not many years ago a writer to the “Nautical” described one of Captain Bowling’s skilful bits of seamanship. He wrote as follows:— The Invercargill, fully laden from London, arrived off Wellington Heads one afternoon. A fine southerly breeze was blowing. Very impatient to get anchored, Captain Bowling decided to sail right in without the assistance of a tug. But just as he got well up the entrance, the wind suddenly veered right round to the northward and blew hard, and as his ship was well up inside Barrett’s Reef by this time, things began to look rather serious. Notwithstanding his many difficulties—for the slightest error or hesitation in timing the order of the different manoeuvres meant disaster—old Bowling managed everything like clockwork, and the Invercargill dropped her anchor off Kaiwarra, just as darkness fell. The Invercargill’s last passage under the British flag in 1904 was her worst; in it she weathered out the biggest gale of Captain Bowling’s experience. She sailed from Sydney, N.S.W., on the 27th August, 1904, Hard squalls and high confused sea, vessel labouring heavily and shipping great quantities of water fore and aft. At 7 p.m. both wind and sea increased, and a huge mountain of water broke over the port quarter and swept the decks, the whole length of her. The cabin skylight was burst in and 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 near everything on the decks except the wheel. Mr. Le Sueur, the mate, lost no time in getting a sail over the gaping skylight and all hands were turned to bailing out the water from below, which was up to one’s waist in the cabin. 8 p.m. found the gale still blowing with undiminished force, and the ship was rolling heavily as she ran before it. By midnight the seas were mountainous and the squalls became fiercer and more frequent. About 4 a.m. 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. But Captain Bowling and his Daylight disclosed the extent of the damage; the galley was gutted, the carpenter’s shop was bare, all his tools gone and the doors smashed in; the contents of the bosun’s locker, paint locker, and the mate’s and second mate’s cabins were washed clean out of them, and gone overboard. The topgallant bulwarks to leeward were all gone, and the running gear being dragged backwards and forwards through the swinging ports was cut to pieces, two of these ports had been torn off their hinges; the foc’s’le-head and poop ladders were gone and all the poop stanchions; whilst the racks for handspikes and capstan bars were empty. All that day and the next night the Invercargill lay like a log with her lee rail buried deep and her main deck full of water. At last, early on 10th December, the wind dropped very light and went into the S.W. with thick weather. Cargo was jettisoned to bring the ship on an even keel, and at last she was got away on her course. The next difficulty was making a landfall without a reliable In spite of a large allowance made for his defective compass, Captain Bowling found himself nearly ashore amongst the Scilly Isles. Again his fine seamanship saved the vessel, and on the 18th December he brought her safely into Queenstown, 113 days out from Sydney. Orders were received here to proceed to Glasgow, but the crew came aft and refused to proceed in the crippled ship; upon which she was towed round to the Clyde and was docked in Princes Dock, Govan, on Christmas Eve. After she had been repaired and refitted at a cost of £1000, Shaw, Savill sold the splendid old ship to the Norwegians, who renamed her the Varg. She sailed for Christiania in 1905, with coal ballast, and was never seen again after clearing the Tail of the Bank. The Auckland, after a long and successful career with many fine passages to her credit, was sold to S. O. Stray, of Norway, in 1904, but soon disappeared from the Register. The Nelson’s finest sailing feat was in 1875, when she ran from Otago Heads to the Horn in 19 days. She was still afloat in 1914 at the outbreak of the war, sailing as a barque under the Chilean flag, and must often have had a chance of trying her sailing powers against the old tea clipper, Lothair, which was also still afloat on the West Coast of South America. “Wellington” and Captain Cowan.I cannot pronounce an opinion as to which was the fastest of these six beautiful Duncan sisters, but the Wellington probably has the best average. She was Captain Cowan had the Wellington for 18 years. He told me that the Wellington was such a fast ship with the wind abaft the beam that he never remembers her being passed under such conditions, but that she was nothing out of the way when braced sharp up. This indeed may be said to have been the general case with Duncan’s ships. From 1877 to 1884 Wellington ran from Glasgow to Otago with first class passengers and emigrants. Under these favourable conditions her average outward passage was about 80 days, her four best being 73, 75, 76 and 78 days. Soon after the amalgamation with Shaw, Savill, Wellington had freezing machinery put on board, and henceforth came home with 18,000 carcases a trip. The “Wellington” Collides with an Iceberg.Early in the nineties she nearly finished her career by colliding with an iceberg to the eastward of the Falkland Islands. Her bows were stove in, two men being killed in the foc’s’le by the deck being driven down on top of them, broken down by a mass of ice falling aboard. The bowsprit and jibboom were, of course, carried away, and also the fore topmast; only the collision bulkhead saved the ship from sinking. Captain Cowan shored up his bulkhead and squared away for Rio de Janeiro. He was a month getting there and repairs were hardly under weigh before the Civil War broke out, and all work was stopped for six months. Meanwhile in order to keep the mutton frozen, the engine had to be kept going at full speed night and day; owing to the heat not even a rest for an hour to overhaul it could be thought of, and it says a good deal for Captain Cowan and his engineer that they managed to keep the engine running without a breakdown for so many months. Orders came out from home that the mutton was to be sold; whereupon Captain Cowan rashly sold some of it to the rebels—the Government at once issued a warrant for his arrest—and he had to be smuggled aboard the New Zealand Shipping Co.’s steamer Norangi, the mate being left in charge. After this very trying experience Captain Cowan, feeling that he needed a rest, retired from the sea. “TIMARU.” Photo by De Maus, Port Chalmers. Larger image (142 kB) “WELLINGTON.” Lent by F. G. Layton. Larger image (202 kB) In 1904 the Wellington was sold to S. O. Stray, of “Oamaru” and “Timaru.”Not content with Duncan’s six beautiful ships, Patrick Henderson ordered two from Scott, of Greenock, in 1874. These were the Oamaru and Timaru, which measured 1306 tons, 239.1 feet length, 36.1 feet beam, 21 feet depth. The Oamaru was launched in October and the Timaru in December. These fine little ships were well worthy of ranking with Duncan’s beauties. The Timaru especially, under Captain Taylor, made some fine passages, when she was carrying emigrants. In March, 1879, she reported off the Scillies, only 68 days out from New Zealand. On the following outward passage, she went out to Port Chalmers in 78 days. Whilst running her easting down she averaged 270 miles a day for 17 days. She had 499 souls on board this passage. Captain Taylor was rather fond of sending bottles adrift, a common practice in the old days, and he was lucky enough to have two picked up in five years. One which he threw over in 12° N. in the Atlantic was picked up in the Gulf of Guinea, and the other, thrown over just east of the Cape meridian, was washed up on the beach in Western Australia. These little New Zealand emigrant clippers, like the larger and earlier Australian clippers, constantly carried very rich cargoes of bullion. On one occasion the Timaru had £57,000 in bar gold on board. Oamaru was finally sold to Norway and renamed Fox. She was broken up in 1912. Timaru was sold in South Africa as a cold storage ship during the Boer War, and is now, I believe, a freezing hulk at Durban. “Marlborough,” “Hermione” and “Pleione.”In 1876 three very fine little ships were built for Shaw, Savill; these were:— Marlborough, 1124 tons, 228 feet length, 36 feet beam, 21 feet depth, launched in June from Duncan’s yard. Pleione, 1092 tons, 209.7 feet, length, 34.6 feet beam, 20.3 feet depth, launched in September by Stephen, of Glasgow. Hermione, 1120 tons, 219.4 feet length, 35 feet beam, 21 feet depth, launched in October by Hall, of Aberdeen. The longest of the three was also the fastest, as is the general rule where beam and depth are about the same. Marlborough was certainly a very fast ship and in 1880, under Captain Anderson, ran from Lyttelton to the Lizard in 71 days. In 1889 she sailed from New Zealand homeward bound with frozen mutton about six weeks behind the Dunedin, and a great stir was raised in New Zealand when neither ship reached her destination. No trace of them was ever found, though the Wellington which sailed in between the two arrived safely. Pleione, like so many ships in the New Zealand trade was eventually sold to the Scandinavians, whilst Hermione was bought by the Italians and renamed Mantova. She was broken up at Genoa in 1913. “Taranaki,” “Lyttelton,” and “Westland.”These three were the last sailing ships built for the Shaw, Savill & Albion Companies. Taranaki was James Galbraith’s last ship and Westland Patrick Henderson’s. “WESTLAND.” Larger image (227 kB) “TARANAKI.” Lent by Captain T. S. Angus. Larger image (175 kB) All three were built by Duncan and were very fast Taranaki, 1126 tons, 228.2 feet length, 35.2 feet beam, 20.9 feet depth. Lyttelton, 1111 tons, 223.8 feet length, 35.0 feet beam, 21.0 feet depth. Westland, 1116 tons, 222.8 feet length, 35.1 feet beam, 21 feet depth. Of the three, Westland was the fastest; in fact, many people considered her to be the fastest of the Shaw, Savill & Albion fleet. One of her best performances was a run of 72 days from Bluff Harbour to the Lizard, where she reported on 31st March, 1895. Taranaki was sold to the Italians, when Shaw, Savill parted with their sailers, and, owned in Genoa, was still afloat when the Great War burst on Europe. The Lyttelton struck on an uncharted rock outside Timaru, when leaving homeward bound. Westland went to the Norwegians, she put into Moss, leaking, and was condemned there. “Lutterworth” and “Lady Jocelyn.”Besides the ships specially built for them, Shaw, Savill occasionally bought a ship; of these probably the best known were the Lutterworth and Lady Jocelyn. The Lutterworth was a fast little iron barque of 883 tons, built by Denton, of Hartlepool, in 1868. Shaw, Savill & Co. sold her eventually to Turnbull & Co., of Lyttelton, N.Z. Whilst on a passage from Timaru to Kaipara in ballast, she was dismasted and abandoned in Cook Straits. She was, however, picked up as a derelict and towed into Wellington, where she was converted into a coal hulk. The Lady Jocelyn was one of those early auxiliary steamers, which always seem to have had long and adventurous careers. She was originally the Brazil, As an auxiliary steamer, like most of her kind, she proved to be a money-eater, and when after a few years the company went into liquidation she was bought by Shaw, Savill and put into their emigrant trade as a sailing ship. Then as passengers began to desert the clipper for steam, freezing machinery was put aboard her. Finally Shaw, Savill laid her up in the West India Docks, and used her as a frozen meat store ship, for which owing to her size and the freezing machinery aboard she was well adapted. Years passed and still she remained the most familiar object in the West India Dock, right up to the present date, during which time she has served a variety of purposes, such as store ship for the Shipping Federation and a home for strike breakers. Outsiders in the New Zealand Trade.Though the New Zealand trade was held pretty tightly in the hands of Shaw, Savill, the Albion Shipping Company and the New Zealand Shipping Company, many a distinguished ship paid an occasional visit to Maoriland, notably the beautiful tea clipper Sir Lancelot in 1879; the majestic Blackwall frigate The Tweed in 1874, when she went out to Otago in 78 days; The Tweed’s great rival Thomas Stephens, which took passengers to Otago in 1879; Miltiades, which in 1889-90 came home from Lyttelton in 78 days and the following season came home from Wellington in “BEN VENUE.” Larger image (182 kB) “LADY JOCELYN.” Larger image (190 kB) The Pretty Little “Ben Venue.”A regular trader to New Zealand in the seventies was Watson’s pretty little Ben Venue, an iron main skysail-yarder of 999 tons, launched by Barclay, Curle in 1867. Under Captain McGowan, she made the very fine average of 77 days for her outward passages, her best homeward being 72 days to the Lizards from Lyttelton in 1879. I have already described her loss in May, 1882. “Hinemoa.”The distinction of being the only sailing ship specially built for the New Zealand frozen meat trade belongs to the splendid steel four-mast barque, Hinemoa, built by Russell, of Greenock, in 1890. She measured 2283 tons, 278.1 feet length, 41.9 feet breadth, 24.2 feet depth. Like many of Russell’s carriers she possessed a very fair turn of speed, especially off the wind, and has the following fine passages to her credit.
Hinemoa was built at a time when “sail” was making a final effort to hold its markets against the steam tramp. That effort was a truly gallant one, and That there were still sailing ships used commercially in 1914 goes to prove that the most stony-hearted, matter-of-fact business man was ready to sacrifice his pocket for a sentiment, a sentiment indeed which many may find hard to define, yet which has forged the links in the chain of nations which represent the present British Empire. To sail and the sail-trained seaman more than to any other cause do we owe our nation’s greatness. By sail were our homesteads kept safe from the enemy; by sail were our new coasts charted; sail took the adventurous pioneers to the new land, and sail brought home the products of these new lands to the Old Country and made her the Market of the World. This book is an attempt to preserve in written form what the fading memory is fast forgetting—the Glorious History of the Sailing Ship. As o’er the moon, fast fly the amber veils, For one dear hour let’s fling the knots behind, And hear again, thro’ cordage and thro’ sails, The vigour of the voices of the wind. They’re gone, the Clyde-built darlings, like a dream, Regrets are vain, and sighs shall not avail, Yet, mid the clatter and the rush of steam, How strangely memory veers again to sail! APPENDIX | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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