Across the Strait

New Zealand Times, Volume LI, Issue 12008, 10 December 1924, Page 2 (Supplement)

Across the Strait

The Cruise of the Kotire * *

A Christmas Yachting Trip | . 5

The 23rd December dawned bright asd clear; in fact it was an ideal day for crossing Cook Strait. About 2 p.ra. the yacht Kotiri, in company with a number of other yachts, turned her back on the boat harboUr, and -set sail for the Sounds. Unlike the skippicr cf the Hesperus, Who took . his little daughter to hear him company,” the skipper of the Kotiri took his Wife, their fifteen-year-old son, and a.lady passenger. Tho “crew” filed the four bunks, the rest of the ship was filled with food, and the masculine portion of the crew had .lately passed Point Jerniugliam before th;y .were giving thanks to the late Mr Gear. The women weren’t so enthusiastic, and as Seatoun, Lyall Bay, Island Btay, and Sinclair Head were, passed, their spirits fell as the waves .rote. IN THE KIP. Then came the Rip. Nobody aboard knew what Tera-whiti meant in English, hut it ought to mean “a longing for land,” at least that is what it d.u mean to one of the party. The t»seeriger, who was styled the little Mascot, eat down in the cock-pit, ard stayed there. * The skipper declares he sat on her face when he pumped out the bilge, hut the little Mascot wouldn’t have minded if a whale had •sab- on it, and as for the skipper’s Wife, about the only thing that would have .roused her, would have been an affectionate squeeze from an octopus. However, all things come to an end, . To?y Channel was entered at 6.30 p.m., but the ladies could not fee induced to leave tlieir bunks to catch a glimpse of the Promised Land. : The yacht was anchored in Oyster Bay; and so calm Was the sea that night nob even the waves could be Heard lapping oil the sides of tho boat. lii the morning the owner of the homestead in the hay came aboard wiili milk, and cherries, arid invited all hands ashore for -dinner, which was most acceptable. All aboard again, with full sail on, and everything stowed except an elusive pound of butter (the sat’d pound, or one of the same bijeed^

haunted the crew for the Test of the trip). The skipper always ended in sitting on it, so the'blitter generally came to thp table in , a fairly presentable model of a flounder. Into Tory Channel once more, the skipper’s Son—with the feeble help of tile'little Mas-cot-running the ship. The little Mas-cot-was taught how to steer, and sit’s just as well that boats don’t leave marks on waterThe ICotiri entered ah inlet called Poet Cove, and when the soundings were taken there were only twelve feet of water. A hearty meal dispelled all fears for . awhile, hut at 5 a.ln. a strong breeze springing up, the skipper decided to leave. He and lr's wife hauled in the anchor, which really needed a crane, the eon <lid the steering, and the little Mascot hauled in the slack, and got a blast from the skipper because she said ehe didn’t know where it, was coming from. PICTON —AND PORRIDGE.! • Picfcon was seen through; a haze of rain, and at first seemed to consist of a cemetery, a wharf, a railway station, and three hotels, but it was later discovered there were a number of shops, most of which appeared lo have had a dose of ether, and not quite "come to” yet, until anything was priced, then it was found that the people were very wide awake indeed. It was at Picton that the skipper made the porridge, and wonderful stuff it was tool As he hadn’t made any since his bachelor days his hand had lost its cunning, and he put a bloh of grey material before the c.ew, a'bottt the size of a duck egg, and the consistency of rubber. The skipper soothingly remarked when any criticism was passed: “That the body was there.” It was. ■' The yacht’s only sharp knife was in keen demand. Telegrams were soon dispatched to anxious relatives and friends, who before the yacht left "Wellington, were already making epitaphs for the immediate Use of the Kotiri crew, and seemed a pity that an effort such as this should he Wasted. In memory of the skipper Who with his wife and nipper Sailed the Kotiri. They took a passenger Don’t know what became of her For never home came she. CHRISTMAS AT DOUBLE BAY. On Christmas Day the yacht left Picton for Double, Bay. On the way across a “wiliiwaW” put in an appearar«e, a beastly horrible affair, Which turned the boat right round in a circle, gunwale under-, and certairly left some of the. crew breathless. Later a shoal of porpoises were passed. What happy things they are 1 Leaping out of the water in- sheer delight af being alive,

with, a twinkle in their eyes, and a smile on their faces, they weiit along at a great pace, letting everyone know what a good time they were having. ... On entering Double Bay another williwaw was met, and the little J 1 ascot had- to take soundings. She did—but forgot to pull the lino up again, then the skipper’s voice was beard in all its glory. The crew flew about like incrikeys, and the .yacht entered Stern filst, bow on, and broadside, it really Pas most uncommon. After the homestfead had obligingly supplied* water,"arid cherries, a start Pas made with Christmas dinner. The menu consisted of fried fish, tongues, tomatoes, potatoes, Sala3~'and’mayonnaise dressing, plum pudding* with 'sauce, raisins, dates, nuts, cigarettes, and bon bona. _ ......... , When the skipper’s wife was cooking the breakfast, suddenly there was a terrifio ieport. The lady in .question looked oilt for a moment as if ehe was going Up to Heaven by foroe, when she collapsed on a handy bunk, gasped out, “Nobody will get any breakfast. Look for another wife, Dad! I’m deadl” Investigation showed that there was a hole in the primus about two inches lpng. After administering fresh air to the lady, the reserve primus was brought into use. It was possessed of ten devils. It hissed like a snake, smoked like a volcano, flopped up and down like a flag in the breeze, and finally did a dying swan dance, then flickered out, always just as the. kettle wasn’t boiling. , The skipper’s son, and the little Mascot both had. a-nightmare (only hor’s took place in the daytime, so it was a daymare). His was that he’d wake up, one morning to.find all the condensed, milk gone, and the. little Mascot lying on the deck in a drunken stupor, surrounded by dozens of empty condensed milk tins, while hers was much more trouble. Sne slept in the bunk next to the cookjrig galley, and everything in the ship, except the anchor, the dinghy, the back stay*, anfl a few uninteresting things; like that, -were stowed Under: neath. Did the skipper" want his trousers of his pipe, he’d glare in a

roogt. ferocious .manner at the little Mascot, then say: “It’s under you!” Did the son want his beloved condensed milk, his Deadwood Dick’s, or the kerosene, it was “Sorry,'but it’s under you, old girl.” Did the skipper’s wife want her face cream, or the jam. She’d smile sweetly, then say: “I’m afraid my dear you’ll have to move,” so the little Mascot did, only to find that everything in .the lockers moved too, so sho removed hack,- and suffered, put not in silence.

-.Everything stowed except a pot of jam, sail was hoisted, ana the anchor had to he got out -with the jib hah' yards, it was so well and truly stuck after the storm. At midday Powerful Bay, a beauty spot, was reached. After the skipper had removed some jam from the frying pan, the tea 'arid sugar, and fiinally his tohacoo, he delivered a most stirring lecture on: “Never bring jam in a paper oovered jar.” NEW YEAR’S HAY AT PICTON. After lazy days the Kotiri left' in company with the Isca, and the Atalan-; ta, Picton was the port for New Year’s Eve, and a pretty sight it must have looked from the shop*, the yachts with full Bail on, strung out one behind the other, eveiy now and then a fussy little launch darting round trying to hb important.' The skipper grew very restless when evening came., He wanted to 'go ashore for the New Year festivities, hut the ladies protested most verbolly, eventually compromising by allow-' ing the son as aide-de-camp, and -to row the dinghy, because they weren’ttoo sure if on return the skipper could find the yacht again i It is an extras ordinary thing hut nevertheless true, that nine people out of ten Who wbh 1 to enjoy themselves -must have gotnething with which to make a noise, so Picton was in a. seething state of excitement—blowing tin trumpets, lighting crackers, and singing, life two joined an improinptu orchestra-, but when a double hanger exploded amongst them, it not only shattered the nerves of the crew, hut also a pathetic rendering of “Yea; we have -no bananas.” IN BAYS OF OLD. There is a.tale told in Picton about another New Year’s Eve, of many years ago. In the days before launches, tne Sounds men rowed from one bay to arid a well-manned boat, probably with six at the oars and cno steering, rowed to Picton to see the New Year in. They did, and afters Very merry time turned their thoughts homeward. Into their host they got, six men eventually found the oavs, the seventh took the tiller, and they rewed' all night. When daylight, ana reason came. they , found that-the last man in had forgotten to untie .the

painter, , and they were still tied to the Picfion . wharf. History doesn’t relate what happened to the last arrival. , ''There ik another tale of a Now Teat’s Eye in Picton of a much more recent date, arid this one is of three men who also ’ spent a merry time. They found the dinghy all right-* but could reitber find or recognise their boat, go ©very yacht they came.to they! clambered aboard, fell down the coiupanioitway, looked under the taible, and complained in mournful vqiqes. “Nob our old ehip. no dashed engine.” Out they all bundled to try their luck again. * PICTON BN . FETE. New Year’s Day was fine hut slightly windy, and. quite, early in the morning the moating' carnival qtarted. Picton hibernates for three hundred and sixtyfour days in the year, wakes up an NVnv- Yearia Day, then immediately gdea to sleep; Sgaqn, , It is on phis eay Sabi thp sbutlTaf Picton done ins straw boater, the* beauty is resplendent in starched frocks, arid “shining norning face.” Father wears a stiff collar which annoys him all day, arid mother, after removing several lays of tissue paper, a quantity of camphor and moth balls, brings to light for its annual airing, her black silk. Everyone' S hound for Pieton. The Maori arrives with another crowd, and’ a decided list, and so little time do the U.S.S.. allow the passenger* rehore that. they haven’t time to visit anywhere in case they miss the return trip.. When the races start the bank is lined with people, the launches are gaily • decorated with flags, and crammod with interested spectators. The pistol goes off, the scullers bend to their task, as they near the finish the crowd becomes frantic, handkerchiefs wave, hats are shaken in the air, everyone seems to he doing their nest to break, their vocal oords, finally a cheer bursts forth, the victor crosses the tape; then the same thing starts all over again* and so it goes on until dusk, - “Good-byes,” pass from ano to another, the “putt, “putt,” of '■lunches grows fainter, and finally ceases. So Pieton slumbers once more. ' BIRDS—AND OTHER THINGS. Next morning, after an early start, Ancre Bay . was reached, all hands walking over the hill to Pelorus Sound. A few snaps were taken,- but Portage is not a pretty place, and the anchora’ge is not good, the wind coming down in hard gusts from the hill-tope, So oncsb more the Kotiri tied up Vn Powerful Bay, which possesses some native bush, of which very little is now left, and in its place is growing hillsides of foxglove, acres of Bt. John’s wort, blacken and taubiue. Truly not a brilliant harvest to replace the . bush. The women rowed ashore just as it was-getting-dusk; -theystrolled along the tiny beach, listening to the evening flutterings of the birds, broken now

and then by the call of the more pork, when they heard a lot of rustling in the undergrowth. “What a noise that bird is making!” exclaimed one “A jelly big bird,” said the other, “it must he a moa.” They filled the water keg, and where returning to the dinghy when they caught a glimpse of the “bird,” and Porritt himself couldn’t have beaten them in the race to safety, for the bird had four legs and a good pair of tusks—a fine healthy descendant of one of Captain Cook’s pigs. “HEAVE HO, MY LADS, YE HOI” A couple of days later the anchor was lifted ones more, and with two reefs in, the yacht was homeward bound. Hard squalls were experienced on the way to the Diffenhach. and off this print it was blowing furiously. On entering Tory Channel the fhn for the crew started, for "the wind was either travelling two or three ways at once, or -hard 'knock-down aqUallawere driving: down in rapid- succession, -off the hill tops, blowing the spray across?* the channel, and it rose: tm ' the hillsKes like the- duston tbeSjit t road-on a windy day. ■ ~ ‘ So frantic grew the wind, first on ope aide,-then an the other,,that the ladies had to retire' to the Cabin to give the menfolk room for them to 1 indulge in fancy gybing-' stunts. On two occasions they just managed to .save the twenty-eight foot boom from Unfitting on the masthead: Stronger grew the wind, laying the yacht over to si)rh an extent that the women used the Walls of the cabin' for the floor. Both of them were busy making sandwiches when there was a terrific gybe, and bread, butter, mid womenfolk were humped albout like corks. Eventually tho yacht was anchored in Te A waits, the Atalanta and the Nanette already being there, bnt the latter left almost immediately, going out on the turn of the tide. 1 HOME AT LAST. . Dp before tbe sun next morning, and very soon everything was ready for the trip across, an extr% hand arrived from the Atalanta, and so little wind was there that it was necessary to “out sweeps” to dear the entrance, then a glorious sail to Terawhiti, where the rip was still going strong, hut this time the crew had their sea-legs, so Ljmch was eaten off Island Bay. Hie wind foil, and the son poured down-on the now well-tanned faces of the crew. Jqst inside the entrance the Kotiri lay becalmed, “like a painted ship upon a painted ocean,” until a smart westerly sprang, up, the yacht seemed to awake, • and be in i tremendous hurry to get to the boat, harbour. 'What joy to see Ward Island agaib, Point HalsVrell, Oriental Bay, and the rugged lines of the city! Truly the joy of going away. is pleasant, but pleasant too is tbe joy of Coming back.