AN EARLY EXPLORER

Grey River Argus, 14 December 1943, Page 6

AN EARLY EXPLORER

ON THE WEST COAST

Privations and Tragic Death

EIGHTY YEARS AGO.

(By

E. L. Kehoe).

This year is the seventy-fifth birthday of the Westland Province, —born 1868. By that year the fame of the West Coast goldfields had spread across a considerable portion of the world. Yet a short five years befor e (in 1863) the name Westland was absolutely unknown—the title then applied to it being West Canterbury, a no-man’s land of wild, and lonely beauty, sparsely settled by hapus of the Ngai Tahu Maoris. But' in the year 1863 the Canterbury Provincial Council began to show signs of interest in it stransalpine territory—gold had been found in the Buller, and reports were percolating through from small parties, and single prospectors that the precious metal undoubtedly existed in many of the rivers, streams, terraces, and beaches of what is now known as Westland. Christchurch began to prick up its commercial and political ears, and the Government sought a practicable route overland across the dividing range from east to west. With the object of finding such a crossing, Mr. George Whitcombe on April 13th, 1863, accompanied by Jacob Louper, a Swiss, set out from Christchurch. With two other men, a horse and cart containing 200 lb. biscuits, tea, sugar, mutton, tent, ropes, hatchets, and rat traps their idea was to find, if possible, a practical pass from the headwaters of the Rakaia to the West Coast. They went by way of Woolshed Hill, about four miles above the junction of the Wilberforce and Rakaia Rivers. Almost immediately the country became rough and the cart and horse and some of the biscuits were left behind. When the party was close to the ranges, the two odd men were instructed to eo back to Christchurch, get the horses shod,' return to a camping ground near the Taramakau Saddle, and there await the arrival of Messrs Whitcombe and Louper; these two were to cross from the headwaters of the Rakaia over the saddle into the headwaters of the Hokitika River, thence down to its mouth. Then they were to travel north along the West Coast, and up the Taramakau Valley from the mouth to its source, —over the saddle there, back again to the Canterbury side, where the two men would be awaiting them at the appointed camping place. Simple as this sounds on paper, it was a most tremendous undertaking,—its fulfilment proved impossible, and ended in tragedy. Whitcombe and Louper pushed, on calculating io reach their objective in fourteen days, at the rate of five or six miles per day. The nature of the country over which their prospective route lay, almost makes the time they allowed for the purpose seem foolish. Ther e were days when they covered only yards, not miles. However they agreed to subsist on two biscuits a day. Alas for the frivolity of man’s hopeful affairs. When they reached the glacier near the source of the Rakaia on •the 22nd April, the blue waters rushed violently from a vaulted cave under the ice; they ascended the first low glacier that blocked the valley. It was 500 feet high but they climbed this easily. The pass was found to be 400 feet above sea level the saddle consisting of disjointed blocks of rock. Rain and snow began to fall, and saturated the biscuits. These were soon dough. The tent had been left behind, and sleeping in the open the weight of the snow on the blankets was unbearable. On April 24th they reached some rocks on the Hokitika Rilver bed. There were boulders of enormous size and whirlpools roaring and foaming like witches’ cauldrons. These had to be crossed,—a most perilous undertaking. Louper had had experience in his native Swiss mountains, and his boldness, strength and resource were of ■ great value here, where the river fell straight over the faces of high rocks, spreading broad and deep at the bottom; the least mistake meant death. Scrambling through a whole day first on one side of the river and then on the other they covered two hundred yards 'in ten or twelve hours. They could not light a fire, and the dough which was once biscuit was getting more sour and unpalatable. They slept close together for warmth, but Louper noticed that poor Whitcombe trembled very much. Rain was ceaseless. They pushed on over rocks, down banks, up and down, to and fro, dragging their weary feet. At last they reached a level spot, a few miles long .and broad covered with dense scrub with high bush growing at the edges. They left the river and travelled through the forest which was like an immense lagoon, above their knees in water. The following morning, they observed some promising looking gravel; they washed some in a billy lid and found colour —about two grains of fine gold. “That’s good enough Jacob,” said Whitcombe, —“We’ll claim the reward.” That remark referred to a reward offered by the Canterbury Provincial Government for the discovery of a payable gold field. .But they were not really optimistic. They also found sample of slate and greenstone. Once again they set off into the swampy bush, and cold weary nights. One day they heard the roar of the sea, but they could not reach the coast that day, and camped again in the bush. Next day. their bag containing the stock of biscuits was torn apart, and they lost half their small store. Weary to death, they struggled on that night,. half frozen; they had not sufficient energy to make a fire. Again next day they staggered on till night fell once more, six miles from the sea. Rain fell incessantly. They had left one handful of dough; and this they finished. At length they reached the sea shore about- four in the evening; when the weather slightly cleared. They were at the mouth of the Hokitika River. Here they had hoped to find Maoris,'and food , and shelter; they were doomed to disappointment. However they were able to make a large fire and dry their blankets for the first time in thirteen days. Soaking wet throughout that weary journey, they had not caught a bird, or a fish, or a rat. No Maoris .were to be found. Tracks of dogs were seen and these, they imagined, had killed off all the wekas.~ Next they headed north along the. beach to the Arahura River in Warm sunshine. At Arahura the Maori whares were deserted and silent, —no natives visible. Searching for food they found a handful of potatoes. They were both very weak and hungry and Mr. Whitcombe was in a low state. Here the brave pair had their last meal together. Louper proposed that they remain the night and try for shell fish. But Mr. Whitcombe was bent on crossing the Arahura and reaching the next big river, the Taramakau some miles further up the coast. Rain came again. Harassed with cold, wet, hunger and sandflies they gamely crossed the river, holding a pole between them, up to their armpits in "Water. They reached the south bank of the Taramakau at midnight. -They could see a Maori village on the opposite side but there was no fire to be seen, no smoke, no voices, no sound of life. Wild pigeons flew over their heads from the bush,

Louper wished to remain on the southern side and follow up the river, hoping to catch some woodhens. But Whitcombe insisted on getting over somehow and then on to the Grey where he expected to find Captain Dixon’s supply ship. They found two old canoes, tied them together, and pushed out into the current. Soon the canoes filled with water and began to sink. Whitcombe took off his coat, and advising Louper to do the same, plunged into the water and made for the shore they had left. Louper saw him making powerful strokes, and had no doubt he would save himself. Louper was a poor swimmer, so he bound himself with flax to the poles which joined the canoes. Deeper these craft sank, turned upside down, and were carried towards the breakers at the mouth. Buffeted about by the waves he pot free at last, and a friendly breaker dashed him onto a pile of driftwood, where he hung; on till the waves receded. All night he lay there, sore and hungry, and sick to death. In the morning he found he was a mile along the beach from their attempted crossing. Painfully he walked back and found Mr. Whitcombe’s coat, pieces of blanket and the canoes; then later he saw the body of brave Whitcombe half buried in the single and the sand. Jacob Louper dug a shallow grav e with his hands and sticks, wrapped the coat and blankets round ’ the body, filled in the lonely grave, and placed logs on the top. " Next morning the forlorn survivor weak and famished travelled three miles through the dense bush at the river side. At night he heard a doe; bark, and saw the gleam of a fire. He found a Maori and his wife and child. The Maori said he had no food, but a present of four sticks of soaked tobacco, produced a couple of potatoes, which were cooked, and tasted delicious. During the night the Maori caught, a few small fish, and these, with a few more potatoes were eaten by the explorer and gave him strength and hope. He pushed further on, and saw a canoe with five Maoris; these directed him to a whare, where two other Maoris and thei'r wives gave him food and shelter. Leaving refreshed, he followed on up the Hohonu Creek towards Lake Brunner. Next day he heard the welcome sound of an axe, and soon was in the camp of Mr. Charlton Howitt’s Survey Party; they lent him a horse and provisions, put him over the lake in a canoe, and two days later, he found the two men as appointed awaiting him and Whitcombe at the Taramakau Saddle. So worn out and fatigued was Louper. that at first they failed to recognise him. Five days later Louper reached Christchurch. A year later Whitcombe’s body was removed from the beach where Louper had buried it, and conveyed to the Grey; its last resting place is the Karoro Cemetery, Greymouth, where the grave is kept still in good condition. Nearby are the graves of Townsend. Mitchelmore & George Dobson all of whom lost their lives in the cause of duty on the West Coast, in those early times. Charlton Howitt who rescued Louper, together with two of his men. lies beneath the waters of Lake Brunner where thev perished some months later. Theirs is another story of stout hearted endurance and tragedy which is very little known bv present day dwellers of either West Coast or Canterbury.