A PIONEER’S EXPERIENCE.

Otago Witness, Issue 3017, 10 January 1912, Page 81

A PIONEER’S EXPERIENCE.

THE WETHERSTONES GOLDFIELDS. JOHN OLn T ER ; SAILOR AND MINER. Though not coming quite under the heading of Gabriel’s Gully experiences, the story of Mr John Oliver, who now resides at Pounawea, relating as it does to the adjacent Wetherstones field, i« particularly interesting, not alone for the narrator’s account of his actual work on the field, but also for the incidents in a long and varied career.' Oliver arrived at the Otago Heads from Melbourne in the American chip Versailles in September of the year 1861. He formed one of a party of some 300 Australian miners who were coming to Dunedin to exploit the Otago goldfields, the news of the discovery of cold here having just previously reached Victoria. On the eh ip coming over Oliver took in as mates three others—Harry Callow, David Hackney, and William Chesney. The voyage from Melbourne was marked by an uncommon incident, as when three or four days out a child was born on the ship. Tire Versailles duly arrived at the heads, where a tragedy nearly occurred to mark her arrival. bearing that If the sailors were allowed to take a boat ashore they would promptly desert, the captain arranged that some of the passengers should row him to land to enable him to clear the ship. Instead of passing the boat astern, however, it was left alongside the Versailles, and the sailors, who were watching their chance, rushed it, and started rowing off for dear life. The chief mate immediately jumped on to a spar on the gangway and commenced firing at the boait’e crew with a revolver. “The first thing,” remarked Oliver, “that called my attention to the occurrence was the mate running past mm I then saw him fire, and a bullet whi z'd over the shoulder of the man r; steering oar. I sang out, ‘Take a h- ••• him, beys 1’ and a big Orkney r.iao • ' • standing close by caught th-> > '.he arm and pushed it hie' - ■ ■ •<! so that ho had to cease fk.r ; >■ Ifikney man. and as raanv Av ■ •- ■ . r , R * s co uld get near, then f- ! • mat.-* and held him, while (»,. v wvr-'chcd the pistol from his grasp. T l '-* .•••; ■.. n,l mate was standing on the d’cv'khous.* threatening these who held the chief and no in ting a pistol at them, but the supercargo of the ship, a man named “ Professor ” Parker, rushed up and persuaded him not to fire. “They called Parker the champion swordsman of Australia” reminiscently stated Oliver. “lie had the reputation of being so at any rate.” The sailors got clear away. Breaking the thread of his story, Oliver said the Versailles was an American ship, from Boston, chartered to bring the diggers over from Melbourne. It was the time of the American civil-war, and the captain would not risk taking his vessel home for fear of being captured h ythe Confederates. Strange as it may appear, the Versailles ultimately sailed for America, was captured by tlie Shenandoar, and burned off the Cape of Good Hope. The mate of the Versailles then hoisted the police flag, and by this time the news had reached Dunedin of the arrival of the ship from Melbourne, and the old Geelong came down to take the passengers up the harbour. Oliver remarked on the fact that at that time there was not another vessel in Port Chalmers or Dunedin—not even a fishing boat. The Geelong hauled alongside and offered to take the passengers up to Dunedin for 2s 6d per head. One of the sailors who wanted to desert was rigged up by the diggers as one of themselves, Everyone had to go past the mate, and the sailor-digger got past with the, rest. Shortly after the mate missed this man, and jumping up on the deck cried out to the captain of the Geelong, “You have got one of my men aboard.” The captain replied, “Como and take him off, then,” and shortly after called out to let go the rope holding the steamer to the ship. The mate vociferously asserted that

he would not cast off the line unless he got back his sailor, and the Geelong’s captain retorted that if the line was not thrown off he would pull the Versailles out of the water. The mate still proved obdurate, and the engineer was instructed to send the engines full speed astern. The Geelong at once went astern, and the chain of the Versailles’s anchor commenced to rattle through the hawse plates as the ship got tightened on the anchor. Then the tow-line broke, and away the Geelong came to town. ‘T wonder someone wasn’t shot over that business,” remarked Oliver as he concluded the incident.

Arriving in Dunedin, Oliver’s party could not secure accommodation and had to pitch camp amongst some timber, placed where the Gridiron Hotel now stands. They stayed there for the night. Looking out next morning, Oliver discovered that an old Victorian mate of his —a man named George Shand—had opened a baker’s shop on a site now occupied by Stewart’s fish-shop. Shand said he had been up to the diggings, but was hot greatly enamoured of the and had come back to Dunedin bo follow his vocation of a baker. “In the forenoon I met Jock Graham,” laughingly narrated Oliver, “selling maps showing a short road to Gabriel’s Gully across Maungatua. This route cut off about 25 miles, and we made up our minds to go that way. The next time I saw Graham he was selling cats at Wetherstones at a pound each. We "Ot in as much ‘tucker’ as would carry us up to the diggings, and started off over West Taieri, camping that night at the old Outran! bridge. The following day heavy rain came on, and we discovered when we came to the Waipori River that it was in flood. Some draymen, however, were on the road with provisions for the fields, and they offered to put us and some others across on their horses for a shilling a-p.iece. One fellow who had a 501 b bag of flour strapped round his neck, fell off his horse, and went floating down the river, chest up, with never a kick. One of us, however, ran down the river, reached out with a long-handed shovel, and pulled him ashore. That night we camped in a blind gully, and it came down a regular waterspout. I never saw so much water in so short a time since I have been here. Our tent was not pitched properly, and the water poured down the blessed gully just like a sluice. I was one of. the middle men, and the first thing I knew was ‘Bill’ Ghesney nudging me and saving, ‘Put your arm over here.’ I replied “You are wet, now: you had better stick to it.’ Bill gave a lift, and away came the water on top of ns, just as if you had got a dip in the river. It was' a dark night, but we pulled down the tent, rolled up our swags, and started off again. There was no sign of a track, but we got on a ridge and walked along it.” The party had only been walking half aii hour of so when Oliver began to feel that his legs wore receiving very severe treatment from the pricks i>f the speargrass—his mates had Yankee top boots, and were not inconvenienced at all, —and finally refused to go any further. The four of them thereupon threw down their swags and slept in tne wet till daylight made its welcome appearance. • Coming across sfeime dry manuka next day, they boiled the bdly and their blankets were dtried, and then the miners trudged on ns far as the saddle between Wetherstones and Gabriels. “It was a Sunday night, ’ T “dd so-- the tents of the miners at Gabriel’s. But not a tent was to he seen at \\ etherstones. It appeared as if the latter field had been given up, and only one or two holes were to bo seen. I went an to Gabriel’s to get some tucker,’ but the shopkeeper would not sell me any. seeing it was Sunday. After a hit of argument I got some old ship’s biscuits, a bit of old cheese, a little flour, and then managed to buy a quarter of mutton Or 10s. 1 thought the mutton very dear, as in Ballarat we could buy a whole sheep for 2r> 6d.” The next morning Oliver’s three mates went over to Gabriel’s to have a look at the place, while he himself went down to Wetherstones and did a bid of prospecting. To use hr's own words; “Some one had sunk a hole in a blind gully on a reef dipping into a gully Of course, they never got any gold. I went just a few feet off this hole and dug down about 7ft or Bft, getting a prospect of seme 7dwt or Bdwt t,a the day. On getting back to the tent I found my mates there looking pretty hire. They had been in Gabriel's, and had come across some of their old mates, who told them that it was nothing but mst. a little patch. All the ground had been taken up. My mates thought they would make tracks next day hack to their homes in Victoria. I said ‘You can ] lease yoursef tes, boys, but I have got a prospect to day, and I think I can do just as well here as I can in Victoria,’ and I showed them my prospect, and they were quite overjoyed.” Another journey had to be made to Gabriel’s to get the full complement of mining utensils, and then a small paddock was opened at Wetherstones. It turned out to be just a pot-hole, with no other gold anywhere near, but the four miners took 15oz of gold out of it. By this time there was a great number of men scattered over the ranges and bark up the gully. Everybody was getting gold, and payable gold at that, on the ridges. There were very fi w who were not making a pound a day. The rest of the miners who had come over in the Versailles had arrived, hut these had been delayed through coming the long road. Some of these Victorian miners camped near Waipori, and instead of coming on to Tuapeka struck into Waipori and commenced mining there, while others turned in to Waitahuna these min era—all of them experienced diggers—were, says Oliver, the first to get payable gold m these localities. Oliver’s experience of mining made him sure that with the number of rot-holes about there must be a lead of gold somewhere, rut the difficulty was to locate it.

Ilia party sank an several places in search of the lead, but without success. They then took up a piece of spare ground, in between two other claims but the owners of the adjacent claims tried to oust them from possession. Major Oroker, the goldfields commissioner, was called in, and said Oliver’s party could remain in -possession. There were about 150 miners at Wetherstonce by this time, and vessels continued to arrive from Victoria, one of these being the well-known Lightning. These ships, on arriving in Melbourne, did not wait to discharge their cargoes —the ’tween decks only were cleared, bunks fixed up, and a departure made for Dunedin.

The first wash-up from the spare bit of ground yielded only loz, but by this time two members of the party had left and had gone mining where they could make a pound a day. Oliver was still cudgelling his brains as to the whereabouts of the lead, and got the two who were working away from the claim to peg off a piece of ground outside that belonging to one of their neighbours. In the spare piece Oliver and his one remaining mate bottomed right on the lead, and were getting plenty of gold—loz and 2oz to the dish,—while the other two 'who had taken tw r o other partners in to save trouble about the non-securing of miners’ rights) also “struck it” rich. The whole six worked from the peep of day to dark. The return® from this venture were, says Oliver, the best in bis long career os a miner. The original four divided the greater portion of the gold, the two later arrivals only getting their share from the second claim Oliver and his party then left for Dun edin. and got back there in the month of February. 1862. At intervals after this the ex-sailor w T ent prospecting at the Card real a, right through Central Otago, up the Shag Valley and the Upper Taler i. Oliver says he was the first man to receive a miner’s right from the late Mr Vincent Fyke —this was in 1862. During his prospecting travels he came across a party of miners Who had been sent out by the late Mr John Jones. They were working on a creek that ran into the Du ms tan. He was one of the first men to hear of Hartley and Riley’s venture, when they got their big returns. He had called bn the manager at the Black b Btatnon to get some mutton and a bit of flour, when lie was informed that two men were work - ing on the river gorge between Clyde and the Du ns tan. They bad wing-dammed the river with bags of sand and were thus enabled to clean up the bottom. He travelled to the scene of operations with a party, but by the time they arrived the river was in fic*>d. That was the day before the rush set in from Dunedin as a result of tbo news of the big return secured by Hartley and Riley. Before coming to Dunedm Oliver did a lot of mining in Victoria from the year 1852 to 1861, working at Red Hill, iandoit. Ocswick, Bakery Hill, etc. He says that a large number of the miners wmo came over in the went up to Gabriel’s Gully, had a look round, and immediately started back for their homes in Victoria. kVhen, bow'ever, the news reached Australia that the escort had brought 57,0000 z of gold in one triple Dunedin these men made another hurried return to Dunedin, and the big rush set in. Though he took no active part in die famous fight at the Eureka Stockade, ihe old miner can speak with authority of most of the incidents of that stirring episode. Hiding amongst the claims, he witnessed the attack of the soldiers on the. stockade, and saw Peter Lalor, the leader of the insurrectionists, shot through the shoulder as he stood on the barricade. Lalor was shot early in the morning, but was hidden by friends till 10 o’clock at i:i<r])t. when he was carried away to a bush hut, to which a doctor w'as summoned. This bullet wound ctict Lalor his right arm. It will be remembered that Lalor afterwards gained distinction as a member of the Victorian Legislative Assembly, in which he held the office as Speaker for some years. Oliver was subsequently associated with a man named Scobie, a brother of the Soobie who was found murdered outside Bentley’s Hotel at Eureka. This hotel was burnt down by the enraged miners, and Bentley escaped with his life only by getting away from the back of Ihe building and riding for dear life. Oliver say's this incident practically led up to the Eureka Stockade affair. The old miner served bis time as a sailor before coming to Australia, and went to sea at the aye of 11. He bad but one experience of shipwreck. On board the Amazon, sailing out of Hull with coal for New York they loot sight of the sun for three days owing to a dense fog. On the afternoon of the third day soundings were taken, Hie fimt mate putting a couple of cod hooks on the lead line. Seventy fathoms was the depth, and two cod were also hauled aboard, and much appreciated by the men for supper that night. At 4 o’clock next morning the thrilling cry of “Breakers ahead!” rang through the ship, and immediately afterwards the Amazon went on the rocks with a crash. The helmsman was hurled from the wheel, and when Oliver rushed on deck no one was to be seen. He let go the halliard and put the sail aback. The first boat put out was smashed against the side of the ship, and then the longboat was got out and kedge-anchored some distance away. The gig—in which were stowed away amongst other things a cask of water ‘ and a live pig—was also smashed, the stem being opened out and the cask of water and the pig being shot through the opening. “I never knew what became of that pig.” Oliver. “T did not see it again, anyway.” Temporary repairs to the gig enabled them to reach' the longboat, and a long pull took them to the shore. Oliver and another sailor were detailed to go In search of assistance, and late at night discovered n kind of round house, into which they staggered and fell fast asleep on the floor, being too exhausted to questions of the man in charge. Next morning they discovered that their ship had

been wrecked on Sable Island, “the graveyard of the Atlantic/’ near tho Bay of Fundy. They were Interviewed by the “governor” of the island and relief was sent to their comrades, who were brought to the round house.

The question arose of trying to salvage some of the cargo of the Amazon, but each morning the crew went back to the beach the sea was too rough to launch a boat. At the end of a week, however, a crew—which included the “governor”— determined to try to get out in a light boat procured from the station. phe was pushed into the breakers by walling hands, but, says Oliver, stood right up on her stern and then tell back into the trough ot’ the next wave, splitting one of the bottom boards from end to end. The crew rowed on, however, but On reaching the wreck found that a Yankee fishing boat had been there before them asd cleared everything movable out of the wreck. Strange to relate—“l don’t know how they missed it,” remarked Oliver—a cask of rum had been left behind. Of course, it had to be broached, and the ■governor” began to imbibe somewhat freely and made himself obnoxious to the cook of the Aonazoa-'a great big fellow; he was a corker,” chuckled Oliver. On boarding the longboat again the cook peremptorily ordered the halfdrunken “governor” to bale out. The “governor” replied that he had nothing to bale with, when the ook pullced off a thigh boot and told him to bale with that, and the “governor*’ set to work. On reaching shore the “governor” was fur ther ordered by the cook to bear a hand to pull the boat up on the beach,. He however, demurred, when the cook roughly pushed him to one side. In a drunken rage the “governor” picked up an American axe and aimed a blow at the cook’s neck. Fortunately his arm was grasped just in the nick of time to avert a tragedy. This “governor” then ordered the Amazon’s crow to a distant hut, and signalled for a revenue cutter ,and on its arrival charged the crow with mutiny. A lieutenant and his men arrived with handcuffs, etc., to arrest the allegedly recalcitrant crew, but after listening to their side of the story asked them to come with him, and took them off the island as passengers. Oliver then stayed in American waters for some time, sailing down 'rom New York to the West Indies. Oliver has also sailed on the New' Zealand coast mostly round Stewart Island, —and he worked in Dunedin for some time at the erection of the tongue wharf. For 20 years, off and on, he has resided at Pmnawea, and, as showing his confidence and love for the supposedly treacherous sea, he sets off periodically from the township in a small flat-bottomed boat, crosses the Gatlins bar, and rows xmsh fforfl — conical ha- .ania.rw; pv(wr oceanwards seven or eight miles to ply the calling of a fisherman. He quietly returns with the incoming tide, and then disposes of bis catch on the beach. The old salt has a remarkable memory. He relates the above incidents as if they had occurred but yesterday—and running through them all is the feature of most sailors’ yarns —a full appreciation of the humorous side. Truly this sturdy old man is' made of the same stuff as the sailors who helped Captain Cook to make his perilous voyages in these southern seas.