CRUISE OF THE RUAMANO

Auckland Star, Volume LVII, Issue 26, 1 February 1926, Page 9

CRUISE OF THE RUAMANO

AN ADVENTUROUS VOYAGE. FROM MARYBOROUGH TO MILFORD. NO 111. (By CJ.CO f This voyage is developing into an impressionist one : wherein weather and people play parts as important as those held by places in moulding rapidlygathered ideas. The attractiveness of the trip through the French Pass will ever remain with us. In regular Waitemata cruising weather we went through on the flood tide and made for the Croixelles. with their panorama of bays backed by steep green hills, beautiful homesteads, and ever-moving launches, for here the farmer relies not on Ford or trap, but is dependent on sea-carriage for transport. The run from here to Nelson along the coast of Tasman Bay showed this part of the Donlinion at its best. At 2 p.m. on the Sunday we were I through the artificial opening in that I gTeat natural breakwater, the Boulder I Bank, and the harbourmaster. Captain I Harry Collins, welcomed us to the quietly nestling town that labours under the dignity and burden of a cathedral city. Mr. Fred. Hamilton took us in charge, and ere long we were away through the winding Maitai Valley to his week-end cottage situated among tall ti-tree on the bank of the stream. By night, the grounds, electrically-illuminated, were a little fairyland, and the bathing pool soon drew some of the party. On the West Coast. If Nelson is "Sleepy Hollow." it must have its periods of wakefulness, for the crew of the Ruamano certainly struck one of these. Hospitality was showered upon us at public functions and in private homes. We were taken for a run out through Stoke to the fruit lands where, unfortunately the luscious apple has proved as unfortunate to some speculators as it did to the first one who explored its possibilities in Eden. But, though much has been made and lost in this apple land, it conveys' an atmosphere of solid comfort, and of a care-free life in sunshine far from the reiterated call of the cow. While one muses thus, the orchardist introduces him to the spraying pump, and another illusion goes. After a spell of two days at moorings the Ruamano came again through the Boulder Bank, and, striking her nose into a fresh nor'wester. headed for the Spit, and the Wild West Coast where might lie the greatest risks of the cruise. The sea fell as we approached the Spit Light, 39 miles out—a most desolate gloomy spot. For mile after mile there is a monotonous break of surf on low-lying sandhills, relieved by only a clump of trees near the lighthouse. Before sunset Cape Farewell itself was abeam, and we stood in fairly close to view the rugged formation of dark grey sandstone with its crevices, chasms and caves. Kaburangi Light, marking a dangerous reef that lies off-shore in the track of vessels from Westport. was passed at 9 p.m.. and the launch ran into a true West Coast welcome—-rain. Through the thick night we hung on, and in the prey half light of misty dawn we picked up the cruel-looking "Steeples"' off Cape Foulwind. Westport was abeam, but a visit there was not in the itinerary. Not long after breakfast we saw the mist-enshrouded '"Twelve Apostles," the distinctive row of peaks that run along the coast north of the-i Grey River. It is said that an old passenger skipper, who traded for years along this bar-harbour coast, used to take a delight in asking his passengers to name each one of the "Apostles." but found very few proficient in the twelve names he had specially learned by heart. | Visiting Greymouth. By ten o'clock the Euamano was across the bar. her log from Nelson, twenty-three hours previously, showing 207 knots. There was some difficulty in finding a good mooring here at first, but eventually, as the local paper put it in splendid nautical phraseology, we were ''tethered up to the bridge." Our arrival coincided with a much more important event — the advent of Wirth's circus, and during the day we were frequently taken as part of the show, for Greymouth, apparently, is unaccustomed to having more than one show at a time. They are fine ■"hale-fellow-well-met" people, these West Coasters, as they love to call themselves with a delightful unconcern for dwellers on the coast from Terawhiti to Spirits Bay. They relate tales of palmier days when thfr "Coast" was "really the Coast," and the average business man has remarks far from appreciative of the Otira tunBel, which has robbed Greymouth of most of its independence, and of all of its splendid isolation. Bound For Milford Sound. The fuel problem loomed large at Greymouth. No depot had been provided at Milford. and sufficient benzine for the whole Sounds cruise, and to enable us to reach Bluff, had to be taken aboard. When the launcli went out through the moles next day she was a very full ship indeed, with over ninety cases aboard. The stowage took some work, but when the job was finished the forty-three footer was in quite good trim, though well down in the water, and there was still plenty of space for the crew.

Despite the burden, and thick lumpy j weather, the Ruamano logged nine knots ' at the outset, and gradually improved ( her speed as the load lightened. As the I rain lifted wo looked eastward for the \ .Southern Alps, but through all that day j of coasting down Westland we saw them ; not. Through the night the craft kept ' on a bearing for Cascade Point, and at j daylight the distinguishing headland j was abeam, and we were approaching: the greatest scenic attraction of the i West Coast Sounds. <Tust before 10 a.m. on Friday. January 15— three weeks after leaving Auckland— the Ruamano entered Milford Soundgrandest haven of the Southern Hemisphere. Thick heavy clouds Jmng all round, but despite the fact that high peaks were enshrouded the majesty of great heights was impressed upon us. and the entrance shrank to an extreme narrowness. Wonderful cliffs rose bushHad sheer from the sea. and in the cold grey morning waterfalls simply festooned the landscape as they rushed from crag and crevice into the placid sound. As the sombre curtain dntted above it unfolded from time to time glimpses—merely fleeting ones—of snowclad peaks towering far aloft, in a tantalising manner that tempted one to spring on to the deck and declaim the last lines from the prologue to "I Pagliacci. ,. Down went our anchor in Harrison Bay. Erp our meal was over the Milford launch, tourist-laden, was alongand we were heartily greeted t>\ those who had just undertaken the most wonderful walk in the world. -Mr. Adams, of the Tourist Department, informed us that we were the first outside launch to reach the Sounds. in tour