DUNEDIN IN THE SEVENTIES

Otago Witness, Issue 3519, 23 August 1921, Page 51

DUNEDIN IN THE SEVENTIES

A SAILORMAN’S ADVENTURES. “BILLY THE BO’SUN ” STORY. A VISITOR WHO HAS “ MADE GOOD.” Venturesome young men who wandered out here 40 or 50 years ago to “see life” were rarely disappointed. They were a hardy, versatile lot, well able, as a rule, to meet the emergency as it arose, and ready to turn their hands to anything. Adventure was sure to como their way, and they EE v 10 mos *' if- The great majority of them “turned out well,” but not many were able to achieve such decided success from, such humble beginnings, as did one who is now revisting Dunedin after 42 years’ absence. His story as it refers to Dunedin is a most interesting one, and is a striking illustration of how a man, if he has it in lum, may make his way in the teeth of adverse circumstances. “Billy the Bo’sun,” as he prefers to be known, comes back to the scene of some early struggles and escapades as a fellow of two scientific soulCu*oS !' no \ v rl over the world. But the bo sun can tell his own story better than anyone else: A. eg! I am very interested to visit Dunedin again, for it is 42 years ago since I, va s here, and there have been many changes. My first visit was in 1879, when I arrived in Port Chalmers in my ship, the Cockermouth, on August 6, having left London in the previous April. She was a 1296-ton ship and we brought out 41 passengers. They were tho good old days of the windjammer. It was no easy job. It was hard work, no comforts, and particularly hard fare, and nothing beyond bare Board of t rade “whack,” varied occasionally by self-concocted dishes with names strange to landsmen, but common property with all seamen. Fancy these dishes on a menu: Dog's body. cracker hash, dandyfunk. Appetite is the best sauce for hunger, and however unpalatable (hey might be to-day. thev were very satisfying in those days. The voyage was just the ordinary one, but saddened by a tragic incident. V hen wc were running down our casting T aloft with one of the ether midshipmen to take in the main top-gallant sail. My shipmate was first up aloft, and consequently took the weather yard arm. I was close behind, and went to the leo side. T took a glance round the mast. Only to nnd that niv shipmate was not there, and looking down on (he deck, I saw his body lying flit. He had fallen from aloft and was killed. This event east a gloom over the ship for the rest of the passage. Poor, old Cleverby! I,ike mvself he was a first voyager. Tt was his last. Bv the time we arrived at Port Chalmers I had decided that a sailor’s life was a pretty rough-and-tumble business, so I decided to do what maiiT others did in those days, and that, was “clear out.” and clear r -uf T did. I deserted. From then on till November 14 my experiences ashore were to saw the least of it, varied and decidedly interesting. It was not till. my ship had cleared the Heads that I dared show my face in Dunedin after various trials and tribulations, which in no way damped my spirits. My first job ashore was in the theatrical line, selling oranges and lemonade at the Princess Theatre. That experience was short, for I managed to got advancement to a temperance hotel and took the exalted jrosition of night watchman for a very small wage but plenty to eat. That was what appealed to me in those days. Unfortunately I foil from grace. My duties were to keep awake and watch, call the boarders, light the kitchen fire, and wait on the table, and wash-up. After that my duties had finished for the day till I went on the nightwatchman business again. At that time I had not a very strict sense of duty, as you will see, for unfortunately I wont to sloop one night and consequently failed to carry out the rest of my duties, and instead of lighting tho fire and calling the boarders at the proper time. I got about one hour behind time. Then ti.o trouble commenced. Instead of repeating the usual formula at the breakfast table’’ “Chops, steak, or sausage, boiled, fried, or mashed potatoes, tea or coffee,” I found myself once more in the cold, cold world—viz., the footpath, and glad to escape the vengeance of everybody in the Temperance Ho( el. Mv next venture ended sadly also, and be it said with remorse and shame, I took to drink. Hearing that an “appointment” was open to an energetic youth as boots at a non-temperance hotel, I made the application. The good lady who ran I lie place considered I was just tho very thing she was looking for, so I got the “appointment” and commenced duty forthwith. One morning when cleaning out the billiard room, one of the other men employed in “the house” asked me if I’d ever tasted schnapps. Well: I hadn’t. So he suggested I should pop in a small trap-door between the billiard room and ihe bar and hand the bottle out. The spirit of adventure got hold of mo and my companion assisted mo through the opening about 18 inches square. No sootier had we helped ourselves and tasted, than the worthy kuulladv appeared. The result was more cold world. About a night or two on the old wharf I decided to make tracks for Port Chalmers to look for a homeward-bound ship. On tins occasion I decided for obvious reasons to walk, and set out la(e or.o evening. When at Ravensbourne my attention was attracted to a light on the water, a dog barking on the beach, and two men struggling in the water. I called out loudly to know what was tb.o matter, and got back for answer: “ Come down here and give a hand.” I got down to the railway line, down to the beach., and ran to the scene of the trouble, which was this: The sergeant of police of Ravensbourne was trying to rescue a D.T. subject from drowning himself. With my assistance we got him eventually, handcuffed, or. the railway line. The sergeant instructed me to run along to the stationmaster and stop the Christchurch express, which was almost due. When I got back to tho sergeant of police the D.T. subject bad got himself wedged between the rails somehow or other, and, as we could hear the train approaching through the cuttings near by, it was necessary to act quickly to save further tragedy. Some rather rough usage on the head reduced tho D.T. subject to a state of insensibility, and we were thus able to get him clear from the rails, none

too soon, for the express came by almost irnmodately. We managed to get our prisoner to the train, and eventually to Maciaggan street, where the police station was at that time. After safely locking our charge up I went with the policeman in a cab to his homo in Ravensbourne, had a comfortable bed and breakfast, and later on received a substantial .fee, I think got to Port Chalmers, but instead got a go to Port Chalmers, but instead got a ehip in Dunedin that day, which was then loading up for Ilokianga. She was a small barque of 280 tons named the Ansdel, of Newcastle, N.S.W., and on the 14th November I left Dunedin, and have not been here since until Tuesday, when I came along in the Christchurch express, through Ravensbourne, that had made such an impression on my memory. From Hokianvu, which was then a purely native place, with only a very few sawmillers, we sailed to Wellington, which appears _ more altered than Dunedin. In fact, Wellington then had more the appearance of what Port Lyttelton has today. The Ansdel was pa : d off, and early m 1880 I shipped Home before the mast m the old clipper Zealanilia. Captain Sellars, and eventually was restored once more fc o my anxious guardians. I hose were interesting days, and shipping news of that date recalls many interesting events. lor one_ thing the Rotamabana made her first New Zealand port Port Chalmers, arriving on October 1, 1879. The snipping reporter used all the adjectives he possibly could. “ She was an ocean greyhound. a floating palace, and a leviathan of the deep,” and even went so far ns to refer to “ her immense size and length, all of which was true in those days. There was a very famous little brigantine of Hobart Town, mind it was Hobart -town then, not Hobart. Siie was one of the prettiest little vessels that ever took blue water, and was well known in Dunedin, and made some remarkably fast passages, almost, up to steamer time. On November 14. 1879, she arrived here in under eight days with fruit. Another little Hobart Town built vessel was the Ilium Belle, schooner. T could go on ad lib recalling to mind many other vessels I (hen well known in the port in those days 1 What a change! The day of the windjammer is po.-st. dreirv vovacres < r .'re at an end. }nt t]io snilorman always looks back on the good old days when the New Zealand Shipping Company and Shaw. Sav'iii ships brought out thVr genera] cargoes to take back the colonies’ produce. You could get Home then for £l6. Of course not sa oon, but it would be bard to gc-t Home for that to-day in any class. A es. I can look back on a very interesting life at sou, and tho first experience dal not stop nr career in that direction; 1 not till 1 becarpo an officer. So I can claim to have helped in building up the dominion and the commonwealth of Australia and being a pioneer. In fact. I’m rather proud of it, and also that during the war l was still young enough to turn to again, on deck, which very many old sailor men did. One old captain, with whom I had faded, and who had been retired some years, when war broke out yoiuntecreii for the R.N.R., and was most indignant when told he was too old for active service. Mrd he was only 75 years of age, quite a young man. Not being accepted, he proved he was not too old. and went straight away and bought an old tub of a barquentine, and traded in his own ship nearly all the rime in danger zone. I met him in Sydney in 1917. and had the offer to go as second mate, but. on calm reflection, decided against ever going in sail again, besides which T had been away from the sea 30 years, and settled in mercantile pursuits, and have now retired altogether from active business. Any more yarns? Well, yes. plenty of yarns of adventure, but what I have'told you is interesting in this case, as it affects Dunedin, for which city I have always entertained an affectionate regard, and a'so for New Zealand. I am living in Melbourne now. where we have a Society of Ancient Mariners, Old Shells. We number amongst our members his Excellency the Governor-general Lord Jelliece. who inspected our pet. hobby, the training of the Sea Scouts. When he was visiting Melbourne some years ago -a rather amusing incident- occurred. In responding to the toast of his health, Lord .TePicoe bestowed unstinted praise on the way the old merchant service had hung on when the submarine menace was at its worst. He went on to explain how in the large ports in England special schools had been established for teaching the merchant officers how to dodge “ tin fish.” Then from the other end of the room came in loud stentorian true shellback tones: “ Yes, yer Lord, and I was one of nm yer Lord.” It bad the ring of “ Not guilty, yer honur,” in it. “ Well ! thanks. I don’t mind if I do. and just for old times sake, and to remind me of Dunedin, I'll try a schnapps and soda.”