TROUBLE IN PIAKO

Hokitika Guardian, 5 December 1929, Page 7

TROUBLE IN PIAKO

CREW WALK ASHORE,

DEPARTURE DELAYED

AUCKLAND, Nov. 27

‘‘They that go down to the sea in ships,” and on the Home steamer Piako in particular, were in obstinate mood yesterday afternoon. Having some grievances, fanciful or real, the crew walked ashore late in the afternoon, with the result that the officers had to man the steamer to get her out to an anchorage in the stream, where the Vessel remained for the night. The crew drifted into more tolerant mood after a long vait on the Central wharf, and eventually they rejoined the ship.

When late in the afternoon it was realised that the lure of Auckland iva,> too strong for the crew, it was decided to get the vessel away from the wharf. The Blue Peter was hauled down and the officers, with gloves on their hands, began to heave on wire

springs and ropes. There was much hooting* and booing from the crew, who stood in groups along the wharf animatedly discussing events of the day. The police had been called, and did good work in preventing mariners from going oil tour up the city. While the steamer was being hauled off the wharf, with, the tug Te Awhina fussing alongside, some of the crow scrambled aboard to got clothing, and coats and vests were filing to waiting hands on the wharf. Some of the men who waited a shade too long had to work their waj’ hand over hand down the last line ashore, a gymnastic performance which was vastly entertaining to onlookers.

Tlie steamer slid clear of the wharf amid ribald jest and pithy comment, and the fact that units of the British mercantile marine had been highly praised when the war was on* was stressed. “We wos ‘erocs then, wasn’t we?” yelled a grimy fireman. He was going to add something else, blit had the misfortune to stand on a companion’s toe, and the latter called his something entirely different. One group of men sang a music hall ditty, and then cheered ironically. An engineer showed up at the ship’s rail, an appearance which led to the inquiry, “Why don’t you be with us?” During the proceedings the ship’s cat, tortoiseshell in colour, was doing a gambol round the deck, taking umbrage at the fact that coal was piled on top of the coal hatch and quite concerned at the fact that the ship was sailing exceedingly short-handed. Despite vigilance on the part of the police some of the men did get away from the wharf. It was deep-laid strategy. They said they belonged to the crew of another Home boat in port, and as grimy firemen with neck decorations in the form of sweat-wags look exceedingly alike, their course—a very wavory one in one instance—* was not impeded, They were soon back, more loquacious than before, and it was all too evident that life on the bounding wave had, at the moment, l’cw attractions for them.

When the Piako drew off the wharf preparatory to anchoring for the night, the men talked readily ink') any sympathetic oar, while police officials, with long experience of mariners and their tricky ways, handed out much excellent advice.

Tlie Piako sailed at 7 o’clock this morning.

When it got in the vicinity of midnight. the crew’s grievances began to evaporate. It was rather chilly, and some of them were beginning to think of nice warm bunks on the Piako. “Well, what about it?” was a question by a few of the leaders. “She’ll do us,” was the collective reply. They, offered to return to duty if two more men wore taken on, and this was agreed to. A few arrangements had to be made before the men could be taken out to the waiting steamer, but soon afterwards firemen and seamen were clambering up the Piako’s ladder, and, they were home ohee more.