A TWELVE TO EIGHT. By Kismet.

Otago Witness, Issue 2651, 4 January 1905, Page 80

A TWELVE TO EIGHT. By Kismet.

Whir-r-r-r— and the rudely-awakened sleeper rubs his eyes and curses the alarum -clock that woke him, and the fate that made him a dredgehand. It is 11 o^elock pTm., and by 12 he must be at work on the dredge. -He rolls over to enjoy a few moments more, and who that has not experienced it can realise the agonising bliss, the overwhelming comfort of that last five minutes, perhaps accentuated by the knowledge that outside it is freezing hard, and the deck on which he must stand will be ornamented with icicles. The blankets never seemed so warm or, comfortable as when he must leave them. The weather constitutes no respite, be it frosty, rain, snow, or hail — even a quartet of "the four he must face it. - Further delay is at last impossible, so this weary mortal dons his' clothes, grabs his dinner i>ag, and departs into the aarkneas, feeling anything but a veil-used being. ' ■ The dredge as he nears it soon makes its presence manifest by the lights, and noise. - " Circumstances alter cases" — this remai'k applies very truly to the opinion formed by- one who sees a dredge working at night for, the first time and that held by the man going ■ aboard to take his ehift. The stronger the lights are the better it loo*ts. Electric light shows a dredge off to tl.e best advantage. Looking at it from some little distance a person unfortunate enough to possess an artistic mind may liken it to a floating palace, though on board it is far 'from being palatial in any detail. The onlooker must consider it has a very weird and- phantom appearance. The ljghte shining out of- the windows lind doors and dancing on the rippling water round the dredge, the dripping buckets crawling up, now in the light and now out of it, give an icea of unseen but irresistible power. As she heaves and. surges at her work some of the mooring lines will tighten and- rise above the water, only to fall back with a phosphorescent splash. The buckets , oreak and groan over the tumbler like the cry of conic monster in pain, while the water rushes and tumbles from the tail anxious, as it seems, to escape from ite captor and return whence it came. The lights s.ooard only accentuate the darkness of the night, so to the spectator the dredge and objects in close juxtaposition seem to be set in a frame of light. But a- man on work intent eees none of this, or if he did his . opinion would probably be brief and forcible. " What a of a noise the old tub makes" would likely sum up his ideas on the subject. On board all ie noise and clatter. The shifty to be" relieved seem, cheerful and expectant — the expectancy of a warm bed./ The' ".-relievers ' might ■ for the moment be tempted to think themselves popular so cordially axe they sometimes welcomed (especially if the night is cold and boisterous) ; but they fully realise it is no characteristic of their personality that causes popularity on this occasion. Twelve o'clock — the witching hour of midnight — comes, the dredge stops, and the 4-to-12 shift depart, leaving the 12-to-8 men to their lonely vigil. The first operation is to oil up, and then with a cry of " Are you right? " the fireman starts the engine, the winchman pulls the [ buckets in gear and goes to his which, knowing that, in the usual course of events, about 5000 buckets, which it is his dvity to keep properly filled, must crawl past him before morning. Needless to say he does not glory in his knowledge, neither does he start to count them, being kept too busy for that. Now the shift has started, and all around the world seems asleep, unless some j twinkling light proclaims the presence of a | burner of the midnight oil, soon that disappears, and unless the moon comes kindly forth all is blank and utter darkness. The rising of the moon at dead of night is a grander sight than many realise. Its soft rays touch the hilltops, scattering the darkness, and jas it rises still further the light comes further down the hillsides till all the land lies in the moonlight gleam. • To the uninitiated a description of the winchman's dtities and method of winching may b© of interest. For descriptive purposes, we will suppose he is on a land dredge. The dredge is moored by five wire hnes— two bow lines (port and starboard), two stern or quarter lines, and a headline, which, as its" name implies, goes out m front and holds the dredge up to her work, this being necessary as the buckets naturally shove he* back as they come in contact with the face. These lines are fixed on shore to "backers." A backer is a beam of wood sunk longways in the ground; a trench is cut at right angles to it through which the lis«i leads.

j i The dredged ground behind the dredge ii i I " tailings," the pond in which the dredge 1 * floats is known as " the paddock," while ; I the ground in front immediately againsi r tho paddock is "" the face." As the dredge works forward into the face, carrying il , ' through to the tailings, of course face, 7 paddock, and tailings are all advanced • further up the. claim. The ground is . winched by " benches." A bench is a 3 section of the faos eight or ten yards long, [ or the winchman may be guided by the [. surface or bottom irregxilariti&s of the j ground. The stern of the dredge, is left stationary while the bow is pulled from j one side of the bench to the other, the [ tail of the boxes swinging in the opposite direction, and thus depositing the tails , evenly. When the opposite! end of the t bench is reached the dredge is pulled up „ on the headline perhaps a foot, or accord- ' ing to the nature of the ground, be it tight t or loose. She is then pulled back across I the bench again, and this goes on till it is | worked six or seven feet ahead, when the ' stern is pulled over and a new bench started and worked in the same manner. 1 To the tyro it appears a simple matter to pull the " dredge back and forwards, ; and thus keep the buckets full, but the : experienced winchman knows it is easier > said than done. The essential qualities • necessary to a good winchman are confi- • dene© and coolness. If the dredge- has i hardly room to move owing to high ground i or opening out a mistake in tailing even i for a few minutes may give hours of '. trouble before she is properly extricated. If in a. tight corner and no room to swing then it is that the- winchman must be - cool and confident, ' and have dredge lines and tailings "in "his mind's eye." From the time he goes on to work a shift till the end he is always in trouble or else looking for it. Any of the lines may break or a backer pull out. If that happens it is no joke going out in the dark and a flat bottomed punt to fish up the line, all covered with mud and slime. To make matters worse, it may be raining; on account of the ground being wet backers usually choose rainy weather in which to pull out. A dredge punt is usually so clumsy and knocked about that it often seems to have a will of its own, which sometimes necessitates the use of language calculated to make the air blue before it will go in the straight and "narrow way. Besides the danger of broken lines and pulled-out backers, the irregularities of the bottom have to be watched, and the ladder raised and lowered accordingly. "The bottom" is the strata on which. the gold-bearing wash lies. It is sometimes pipe clay (which, being soft, can be well cleaned up), but more often hard reef, which, presents greater difficulties, being usually uneven and intersecte3*with crevices, j into which the buckets cannot enter. The I great drawback to dredging is the inability to properly clean the bottom — this has^meant liquidation to many companies y- though the, "gold was in the claim, the* bottom was^too "hard to clean, and the buckets stirring 'up the -wash, the gold .naturally falls to the bottom, and penetrates 'in the , crevices. • When a fall «omcs down the dredge must, be let back to clean -it up.- A bucket piru may break, the buckets jcorae" off, the tumbler, or a .hundred and one things hap- , pen to give trouble and work. So, in short, the winchman has to be constantly on the alert. Owing' to this constant strain and alertness the life is harder on a man's constitution than more laborious work would be. The fireman attends to the engine and boiler, and qn dredges- which have a sluice box instead of a screen has to keep that clear, chop up lumps of clay small enough for the water to wash it down, pull down .boulders, etc. In 'ground with a lot of clay this is very laborious, dirty, and disheartening work. Splashed with water and dirt he, no sooner gets the box cleared to the tail than it is blocked at the top again, and he has hardly time to rush down to put on a fire. As a rule, though, the fireman has a fairly easy time, and, as he is not confined to one place, his work is not so monotonous as the winchman's, as the latter in shallow ground has to winch nearly every bucketful. The shift drags on; 1, 2, and 3 o'clock come and go — this is usually lunch time, but no stoppage is made for meals, the men eating them as best they can. On many dredges a stop is made at half-time to oil (this "just takes a minute or two), then they start again. The two men see, very little of each other — their duties keep them at different ends of the ship. Now" and then the fireman will stroll along to the winch or the winchman go to the stern to see the tail, but beyond that there is little' communication. A winch room in winter being "cold as ,an iceberg, it is no' pleasure- for. the "winchman to pass the boiler and see" his mate ruddy and glowing standing , comfortably by • the fire. When the face is, very high difficulty is sometimes experienced in stacking the tailings which pile up r_ound -the "box, .and unless the winchman "exercises great care the box may be pulled off. He usually knows how the tailings are, but sometimes the fireman may saunter up to say the tail ia blocked, when all the thanks he gets may be a vicious d n, as the winchman bangs in a stern line clutch and 1 gives a pull on thei head line which makes the dredge pitch and creak as if rebellious at such treatment. Sleep is the deadly enemy of the night-shift man. Some nights ho may not feel it; then again it pounces on him at break of day. Who that has experienced it can. forget the awful grip it has on one in the early hours of morning. The eyelids seem to fall in spite of all resistance; then the knees unconsciously give way, and one gives a stagger to retain his equilibrium. There is no rest for the wicked, and weary work must be done. But when the feeling is on one he would almost give his very soul for bed. He feels himself pulling up the blankets and laying his head unon the pillow— then another stagger. Time goes on. Away in the east the sky seems to clear, the light gradually extends round the horizon, and objects become dimly visible, throwing stoange and grotesque shadows. Day is breaking, morning is coming— morning with its rest from toil for the night-shift man. It gets lighter and lighter, till at last the day has fully dawned. Smoke starts to curl towards the acy from the houses round about, evidence that again people are rising "to follow the furrow "of their daily task." The. world is waking! Still the dredge rattles and rumbles on as if to make sure that all may wake and see the new-born day. Then the whistle goes to warn the other shift. Oh! that whistle. To those at worlj it has a pleasant sound. It tells of kbour nearly done, it tells of breakfast and of bed; but how different it sounds to the man waiting to come out at midnight! To him it speaks of djscomioft and cold; it

s means leaving home and comfort for work-* i work at night when man should sleep. i If there is a land " beyond " with a t climate familiarly d&scribed as " hot," " and } any dredgers reach that sultry clime, then. b for them, I think, among the manifold , tortures of that land will b© a screeching I whistle, whose awful and deafening din 3 will accentuate the other mental and i physical agonies of that place. However, , let us hope there is rest for the dredgei hand after this life; he thoroughly dei serves it. Soon 8 o'clock approaches, and ; with it the day-shift men. They, having t snored the snoro o£ the just, are full of > work and breakfast. The clock points to i 8 : the winchman throws the buckets out i of gear, the fireman stops the engine, s then, with home in view, they " stand not > on the order of their going, but go at ■ once."