We left Sydney in the first week in April, and although we had greatly enjoyed the beautiful scenery of its fine harbour and the neighbouring Blue Mountains, and had experienced the greatest kindness and hospitality on every side, we were not sorry to depart.

In the first place, we were homeward-bound, and I had recovered the health, in search of which I had left home and friends, and the weather had been so oppressively hot and the dust so troublesome, that we were glad of the prospect of the abatement of the one and the total disappearance of the other.

For ten months the Colony had had no rain, and in the neighbourhood of Sydney trees were dying by hundreds, and gardens which had been carefully tended for fifteen or twenty years were nearly spoiled. The outlook for agriculturists was dark indeed, very indifferent hay was selling for £10 a ton, and the cattle were perishing for want of water. I saw a statement in the paper that one farmer had already lost 45,000 sheep, and if the drought lasted a few weeks longer he would lose 50,000 more. The most inveterate grumbler at the moisture of the English climate would, if here in Sydney, soon arrive at the conclusion that six months’ rain is to be preferred to ten months’ drought and dust under a scorching sun.

Some friends accompanied us on board our steamer, and observing that the sky had become overcast with every prospect of a heavy downpour, I endeavoured to persuade them to return to shore, but they said the sky often looked overcast but soon became clear again, and that there would be no rain; still I was not comfortable, and presently induced them to go. Half-an-hour afterwards our time was up, the ship’s gun was fired, and down came the rain in such torrents as made me very apprehensive for the safety of my friends, lest their boat should be swamped. On arriving at New York I found a letter from them informing me that the rain filled the boat so fast that it was with some difficulty they could keep it afloat.

Our vessel was an exceedingly fine one, and was on her first voyage. Her length was 400ft. and she was 40ft. wide across the saloon. The appointments seemed to be all very good, although it soon appeared that she was insufficiently supplied with stewards, the consequence being that the meals were badly served. Everything, however, was done according to rule, and it was curious to see the order in which the various dishes were brought in. The chief steward rang a bell once, and the stewards marched into the saloon in single file, dishes in hand; two rings, right wheel; three times, place dishes on the table; and at the fourth ringing of the bell, remove covers and march out with them. It looked like a pantomime, and caused us considerable merriment. The head steward was a negro, and it was curious to note how he lorded it over the white stewards.

A rough passage of four days brought us to the entrance of Auckland harbour. The previous day it was very stormy, and an albatross which had been following us for some time, frequently flying across the ship between the masts, at length either flew, or was blown, against one of the masts, and fell dead upon the deck.

In approaching the town of Auckland a number of islands of curious shape, surmounted with rocks bearing the appearance of castles are passed. Auckland looks well from the harbour, which is a very fine one; behind the town a mountain rises to a considerable altitude, greatly adding to the picturesqueness of the view.

Our ship was the largest that had ever been in the harbour, and we expected soon to have a number of boats plying for hire, but none appeared until half our limited time had expired, and consequently very few passengers went ashore. We took a quantity of coal on board, the quality of which was very bad, giving off volumes of the densest smoke. It is much inferior to the New South Wales coal, which in its turn is not equal to English.

For the first ten days the Pacific greatly belied its name, being in a state of great commotion the whole time; indeed, most of the way to San Francisco the roll was very considerable. As we neared Kandavu, in the Fiji Islands, the dreaded coral reefs began to come in sight. Some of them stretch out for fifteen miles from the land, and are known to approaching vessels by the white crests of the long lines of breakers. Navigation is very dangerous, and the harbour of Kandavu is a very difficult one to make. Just before entering we passed within fifty feet of the masts of a sunken ship; but, having brought a native pilot from Sydney, we got inside safely. The harbour is exceedingly beautiful. For some distance from the water on each side the ground is covered with cocoa-nut and bread-fruit trees, large ferns, and a great variety of bright green foliage, while beyond is a range of hills of beautiful shapes and well wooded.

It being Sunday only two or three boats made their appearance, the missionaries not permitting the natives to come out to trade or to gratify their curiosity on that day. Knowing this we were not a little amazed to receive a visit presently from the missionaries themselves, who were rowed by eight very intelligent natives, having no clothing worthy of mention. Some of our party taxed the missionaries with their lack of consistency, and were answered that they came “by invitation.” The natives have fine open faces, with good foreheads, bright and restless eyes. They are of a dark chocolate or liver colour. Their hair is very abundant, but they spoil it by putting quicklime upon it, turning it to a dirty reddish brown. Their vivacity is astonishing. They laugh and chatter in a ceaseless chorus, but their language is not musical. One old fellow was particularly voluble; he was in a boat, and was giving instructions to his crew in a fearfully loud voice, which sounded like the slipping of a ship’s cable through the hawser-hole.

A Native of Fiji

It was great fun to watch the children diving for money. If you threw a sixpence into the water they would go after it and catch it before it had gone down many feet, quickly reappearing to ask—like Oliver Twist—for more, and with a grin, disclosing teeth which made us envy them.Some of our fellow-passengers went ashore, and were much charmed with all they saw. The little children very much delighted them by coming up and putting their hands into those of their visitors, leading them off to show them the bread-fruit and banana trees.

Just as daylight was going our gun was fired, and with our pilot on board we steamed out of the harbour, having the pilot’s boat in tow, manned with as merry a crew as ever rowed a boat. The captain was very anxious to get clear of the reefs before dusk, and so went at a pretty good speed, and although the pilot-boat was half out of the water, and was constantly being swamped, the crew laughed and shrieked with delight, shouting and making curious noises like Christy Minstrels.

Presently they commenced a song, one old fellow beating time with an oar—but we preferred the shrieking. Soon the pilot clambered down the ship’s side, and after giving him three cheers we set off at full speed.

There are many sharks in these waters, but it is said they are not fond of the dark skins. Whether that is so or not I do not know, but certainly both boys and men disregard the presence of these monsters in diving for money.

The day after leaving Kandavu we passed through a beautiful group of islands surrounded with coral reefs. We passed so close to two of these islands that we were able to see the cocoa-nut trees quite distinctly, the bright green vegetation rising just above the pure white surf, and the whole surrounded by the glorious purple and azure of the ocean. While passing one of the islands we saw a huge waterspout burst, and were glad our ship was well out of it.

Soon after leaving the Fiji Islands the crew were put through fire-brigade practice. The bell was rung continuously, the whistles blown, and the crew and stewards rushed to the fire-engines, and got out the buckets and hose, and soon began playing over the ship, while the first officer superintended the getting out and lowering of the boats. As very few persons were warned of what was going to be done, there was naturally great excitement amongst the passengers, one lady fainting in the saloon, thinking the ship was really on fire. I was not impressed with the smartness or efficiency of either officers or crew, and was devoutly thankful that there was no need for their services; and yet I often wondered there were no fires, there being so many kerosene lamps all over the ship, to say nothing of the immense kitchen fires, where twice in one morning I saw a regular burst of flame through an unskilful cook overturning the fat in the absence of his chief.

In going from England to Australia, and returning via the Pacific, and across America, one day is gained, and in order to keep our calendar right we had to “drop a day,” or when we arrived at Liverpool we should be a day in advance of our home friends. This is done by having two days of the same name and date in one week. It appears rather curious but is plain enough, for our general course since leaving home was eastward, and continued so until we reached home. Now, as in going east, four minutes to each degree are gained (the reverse in going west), it follows that in the 360 degrees into which the earth’s circumference is divided, a total gain of 360 × 4 = 1,440 minutes, or 24 hours is made.

Our doctor was somewhat of a curiosity. One evening he told me that one of the passengers, who was suffering from an ailment of the eyes, had declined his further services, preferring to pay one of the passengers who was a medical man. He assured me he had no feeling about it, he was quite above that sort of thing. “Our profession,” he said, “is one in which we should always practice the virtue of charity in accordance with the teaching of Christ, whose follower I trust I am.” But observing that during the conversation he frequently swore, I gave him a hint about it. “Ah,” said he, “you remind me of my little wife at home; whenever I swear or consign any one to a warm place, she puts her finger up and says, ‘Ah, don’t do that, you know you don’t mean it,’ which of course is perfectly true, so there is no harm in it.” One of our doctors was re-named a “compound-conceited-cuss-of-a-colonial-cockatoo-quack-of-a-doctor.” He believed in the Australian “spread eagle”—in the cockatoo, that is—and had visions of a time when England would be a “foreign” country. But he was labouring under the impression that there were eight millions of people in the Australian colonies, whereas there were not more than 2½ millions of white, black, yellow, and brown.

Life on shipboard is not more free from little personal difficulties than on land: one of our colonial friends daily raised the susceptibilities of his neighbours at the dinner table by emptying a favourite dish of fruit into his pocket for home consumption; while just before reaching Honolulu it was rumoured there was to be a duel as soon as we arrived at the island. One of the English travellers had an objectionable habit of turning the fruit over with his fingers at dessert, and picking out the best. A colonial gentleman frequently rebuked him mildly for his breach of good manners, telling him he should “touch and take”; and so it resulted in a quarrel which it was said “blood alone can quell.” It is satisfactory, however, to know that the deadly encounter did not come off.

Being told by the Captain that we might expect to land at Honolulu at 6 p.m., the four o’clock dinner table was comparatively deserted, most of the passengers preferring to reserve themselves for what the Yankees call a “good square meal” on shore. We arrived off the entrance to the harbour in good time, and made the usual signals for a pilot, but with no result. After sunset, guns and rockets were fired, but no pilot appearing, the Captain decided to run in without one. In consequence of the delay it was ten o’clock before we landed, when we found the islanders were en fÊte, and were informed that on such occasions the pilots decline to go out for vessels. Just as we were about to land, one of our passengers, in the darkness, fell overboard, but being a good swimmer and a strong, fearless man, he managed to get aboard again, with no worse result than a wetting. This gentleman had the reputation of being somewhat of a sceptic, and that afternoon I had been discussing with him the subject of a future state. When he was safe on deck again I reminded him of our conversation, and asked what his thoughts were when under the water in such a perilous situation. He replied, “I will tell you exactly what I did think. When I fell overboard I had three shillings in my hand, and my first thought when under water was as to their safety; so, before doing anything else, I safely deposited them in my pocket, and then proceeded to ‘go aloft.’” On landing we found ourselves amongst a motley throng, whose faces, however, were too dark to be seen, the majority dressed in light coloured raiment, and all laughing, shouting, jabbering and shrieking in a ten times more lively manner than a mob of gay Neapolitans on the arrival of a train at Naples. We found the hotel about a mile from the landing place, and very much enjoyed the walk along the wide unpaved streets, lined with houses of various shapes and sizes, many with gardens around them. Myriads of fire-flies lit up the darkness, and the air was laden with the perfume of tropical flowers. On arriving at the hotel, we found it to be a spacious, well-lighted building, with lofty reception rooms, through which we wandered in quest of waiters to whom to give our orders for supper, but no servant could we find, neither could we get any response to the bells, which were vigorously rung by a hungry crowd. We made our way to the office, and were there informed that we could get nothing to eat till next morning, as the servants had “gone home,” and nothing was served after nine o’clock. It was in vain we declared we were starving; the only reply was that we could get what we liked to drink at the bar. A Yankee standing by, pitying our plight, said it was quite true we could get nothing that night, but told us how we could be the first to be served in the morning. He recommended us to order our breakfast at the office before leaving, and to pay for it there and then, and to be at the hotel again before seven o’clock next morning. This we did, and then returned to the vessel, where we also were too late to obtain anything to eat. In the morning we were early at the hotel (buying some delicious strawberries on the way), and proceeding to the breakfast room, were informed we could not obtain admission until seven o’clock. At the appointed hour the folding doors were opened by two natives of the “Flowery Land,” and we were soon seated at the tables, which were crowded with a bountiful supply of most tempting viands, and quantities of luscious fruit.

As soon as all the seats were occupied the Celestial waiter closed the door, and was most assiduous in seeing that his staff attended carefully to the wants of his guests. Presently there were loud knockings at the door, to which no attention whatever was vouchsafed by the smiling Chinee; and when the knockings were varied by angry exclamations from our friends outside, his face became blander still. It could not be said of this “Heathen Chinee” that his “tricks they were vain,” for they were only too effectual in keeping the hungry crowd at bay. When we had quite finished (and I fear we were in no haste to depart), the doors were opened to admit a further batch of impatient voyagers, and even then only one half of the expectant throng could be admitted, the remainder being advised to betake themselves to the restaurants in the town. We shall not soon forget our experiences at the Honolulu Hotel, the landlord of which is no less a personage than His Most Gracious Majesty the King of the Hawaiian Islands.We occupied the remainder of the limited time at our disposal in walking and driving around the town and neighbourhood.

The date and other palms, india-rubber and cocoanut trees, tree ferns, guavas, and other kinds of tropical vegetation flourish here in great abundance. Flowers of the most brilliant colours grow everywhere, and the houses of the better classes seem perfect little paradises, with numerous jets of water flying. The grass is delightfully green and beautiful, and great dragon-flies flit about in all directions. Here and there we came across a group of little black-eyed, brown-faced, merry children, looking shyly at the white strangers, and rushing wildly along the streets. We also met numbers of natives on horseback, dressed in splendid colours—red, blue, yellow, and green—all mixed, or in masses of one or more of these delicate hues. “Will you ride,” said one. “Not to-day,” I said, “perhaps to-morrow.” “That no good,” replied he, “for steamer sails tomorrow!” and off he went at a gallop. They are sharp, sprightly fellows, very handsome, wonderfully lithe and active, and have dark, flashing eyes.

The women of the labouring class are very stately looking, and walk with a dignity and grace a duchess might envy. Their clothing is not of a very extensive character, consisting apparently of one long loose robe, gathered neatly around the neck and wrists, with gay-coloured ribbons, and suggesting the idea that seven years would be an unnecessary time for a Honolulu girl to be bound to learn dressmaking.

Meeting a number of little girls returning from school, I tried to get them to come and read to us out of their books. They were very shy, and it was some time before they would venture near us. At last one of them let me have her book, and I saw that her name was Emma—after the good queen of that name, who visited England a few years since—so I said, “Now, Emma, read us something, and I will give you this,” holding a new threepenny piece before her. At once she came and read a page in the true conventional schoolgirl monotone. The book was printed in Honolulu, and was in the native language, which sounded sweet, and free from harshness. She was a nice-looking little girl, quite a “brownie,” and was much pleased with her threepenny-piece. The children were delighted at seeing Queen Victoria’s face on the coin, and frequently repeated her name. The race is fast dying out, and in a few generations will become extinct.

During the day we visited a school, and looked over the Parliament House, which is a handsome building. The hall is very large and lofty, and so also are the rooms, the walls and ceilings being lined with a smooth white enamel. In connection with the House of Parliament there is a tolerably good library, and the nucleus of a good museum, but the country is very poor; indeed I am told it is almost bankrupt. On passing the post-office it occurred to us to ask if there were any letters for us, although we did not expect any, and putting our cards on the table we said we supposed there were no letters for us. “Oh, but there are though,” the clerk said, “and I am very glad to get rid of them,” whereupon, to our intense delight, he produced a huge packet of letters and papers.While driving into the country we passed many pretty villas, with gardens full of splendid shrubs and flowers, and on to a native village. The houses are made chiefly of large rushes, which grow here in great abundance. There seem to be no chairs or seats in the houses, every one squatting on the ground. We passed some native women carrying their babies, and I asked if they would sell me one. “Yes, for a dollar,” one replied; but when I said “Very well, then, bring it here,” she altered her mind, which was a good thing for me, for I should not have known what to do with a black baby.

Ruth, The King’s Sister (Died 1883)

The temperature of Honolulu ranges between 60° and 88°, and the islands are always fanned by the N.E. trade winds, rendering them exceedingly healthy.

Our visit conveyed the impression to our minds that it would be impossible to spend a month more delightfully than among the Hawaiian group, and we bade adieu to Honolulu with the greatest regret.

It was a beautiful moonlight evening when we left Honolulu for San Francisco, and after many months’ travelling by land and sea, we began to feel that we were at last really homeward bound, for would not our next voyage land us at Liverpool? While at Honolulu we received a very considerable addition to our passenger list in the persons of a number of Americans, of both sexes, some of them being gentlefolks and some of them not. We also took on board three thousand bundles of bananas, which were hung up in the netting all round the promenade deck. This was a most unfair arrangement on the part of the captain, as not only were the seats on this deck rendered unavailable, and a large portion of the space occupied, but the ship became overrun with centipedes, some of them five inches long, making it like Egypt during one of the plagues, “for they were in all our quarters,” in our beds and in our clothes. Americans, as a rule, are not good sailors. Hence it is that when commencing a voyage they take it for granted that they are going to be ill, and make their arrangements accordingly. My companions had been flattering themselves that the spare berth in their cabin would remain empty to the end of the voyage, but they were doomed to disappointment, for it was their bad fortune to receive one of the most bilious-looking of the new arrivals. On entering the cabin the first observation the Yankee made was, “Where d’ye throw up?” The answer to which was, “We don’t ‘throw up’ at all. We go up and lean over the lee side.” The event proved the Yankee’s apprehensions to be well founded. One party of Americans were returning from a prolonged residence on one of the islands of the Pacific, where they appeared to have acquired some of the native habits. One day these people were taking their lunch on deck; it consisted of chicken and a native dish called “POI.” The latter was a substance like bill-stickers’ paste, and was contained in a large bowl. The company, which numbered some five or six persons, men and women, sat upon the deck around the bowl, and, having learned from their new acquaintances, the savages, to do without spoons and separate dishes, helped themselves to the delicious mixture by each dipping two fingers into the common bowl until it was empty. They then attacked the chicken, and had evidently taken lessons in carving from the same authorities, for they adopted the primitive plan of pulling it to pieces. Of course these proceedings excited considerable remark among the passengers, but the party seemed quite insensible to observation.

Another of our passengers was an American, named Steinberg, who had a grievance against the British Government on account of an alleged outrage on the part of an English man-of-war’s crew, in some dispute in the Samoan Islands. He was nursing his wrath until he arrived at Washington, when he certainly thought England’s fate would be settled, and that she would be “chawed up catawampously.” This man was accompanied by a Yankee journalist of a most anti-British type. He was a sallow-faced man with a large square lower jaw, without any hair on his face, and with straight lanky locks, and, moreover, was something under five feet high. He was so thorough-going in his hatred of everything British that when “God save the Queen” was sung at the close of a concert in the saloon, he got up with much fuss and stalked out, followed by some half-dozen of his countrymen. We called the fiery editor “Jefferson Brick,” after Martin Chuzzlewit’s acquaintance. On one occasion I heard a friend of this gentleman ask him if he had a chair on deck. He said he had not, as the Britishers always brought a good supply. I took the hint, and determined that, at any rate, he should not use mine. Soon afterwards it happened that a sea, breaking over the deck, soaked the carpet seat of my chair, which obliged me to place it in a sunny position that it might dry. Presently I saw “Mr. Brick” deliberately fetch the chair, which was a very comfortable one, and, taking it into the shade, settle down on it. I went to him and remarked that the chair was quite wet. “I guess it’s dry now,” said he, with the peculiar twang of a down-east Yankee. Seeing that he failed to take the hint, I told him that the chair was mine and that I would thank him to give it up. This he did, with a remark that he “did not see what people who were always walking about wanted with chairs at all.”We were not altogether without curious examples of our own countrymen as fellow-passengers. One in particular, an Irish tradesman, from one of the New Zealand ports, seemed determined to amuse and be amused. We called our friend “Mister,” because he addressed everybody by that name. It appears that “Mister” was too fond of liquor, and that he had to take an occasional holiday, in order to give his friends an opportunity of putting his affairs straight at home. I was told that he had a flourishing business, which was managed by two able assistants, who insisted upon his leaving them for twelve months in the interest of the concern, under the penalty, if he returned, of their opening an opposition shop. “Mister” told me he had been educated in four Colleges in Ireland, which, doubtless, accounted for the remarkable absence of knowledge he displayed. He frequently alarmed us by the disappearance of the knife down his throat at the dinner table. One evening he volunteered to read at one of the entertainments in the saloon, and caused great amusement by the richness of his humour and of his brogue—winding up his reading by the impromptu observation, “and shure it is oi that am moighty dray.” We shall hear of “Mister” again when we get to San Francisco.

One of our passengers, who died during the voyage, had been suffering greatly from severe pains in the head. He had been told by a lady that sometimes great relief was obtained in such cases by rubbing brandy upon the head. Soon after giving this advice the lady was walking down the saloon where there were a number of passengers and stewards, when she was astonished by hearing the poor invalid calling after her in the most excited manner, and to the no small wonderment of the passengers, “Miss, Miss, did you say brandy or whiskey?” On one occasion the doctor was examining this patient, when the poor fellow appealed to him to do what he could for him, saying, “Doctor, I should like to have one more chance, do you see, and if you can put this old crazy machine together again and make it run once more I shall take it—as a personal favour!” Before he became dangerously ill the invalid was in the same cabin with one of my friends, who one night was considerably disturbed by his dreadful coughing, varied at intervals by strong language respecting the cough, which, he declared, did not belong to him. “It’s not mine, I never had a cough, it’s my head that’s wrong—this cough belongs to some other fellow; what’s it bothering me for?” and when some ladies gently remonstrated with him he said, “Look here, now, I guess it’s just as natural for me to swear as it is for you to pray!” His end came suddenly at last, and in a few hours after, in the early morning, his remains were

“In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.”

We sighted the entrance to the magnificent harbour of San Francisco at daybreak on a beautiful morning at the end of April, and when we approached it the sun had just risen, bathing the whole scene in a flood of golden light, fully justifying its name, “The Golden Gate.” In a short time the city came in view, reminding me very forcibly of Sheffield, from the dense masses of smoke which hung over a large portion of it, for San Francisco is an important manufacturing place. Soon we were boarded by a motley crew, composed of Custom House officers, hotel-touts, porters, agents for the railway, and a number of keen-eyed gentry, desirous of earning a cent anyway, honest or otherwise. We had decided upon going to the famous Palace Hotel, and having found the agent, placed our luggage under his care, receiving checks for it, and, locking our cabin, proceeded on shore, where we found the most sumptuous omnibus we had ever seen waiting to convey passengers to the hotel.