RAFTING ON THE UPPER CLUTHA IN THE EARLY SIXTIES.

Otago Witness, Issue 3610, 22 May 1923, Page 60

RAFTING ON THE UPPER CLUTHA IN THE EARLY SIXTIES.

(By

Geo. M. HASSING.

Row, brothers, row, The stream runs fast; The rapids are near, And the daylight piast. —Mutton Town and Dunstan — In 1862, when Hartley and Riley’s rush to the Dunstan set in, the great drawback to mining progress was the entire absence of timber in the locality'. The scarcity was evidenced from the fact that empty gin and brandy cases were eagerly' purchased at £2 or £3 each at Mutton Town, which sprang into existence first. Indeed ordinary hand crtdles for sluicing the river wash brought £lO each. The buildings in Mutton Town and Dunstan (now Clyde) were, all composed of sods and calico. The soil fro-m which the sods were cut was of a sandy nature, and so, when they became dry and the strong northerly summer winds set in, clouds of flying sand swept down the long and only street of the Dunstan township from morn till evening, when the gale generally ceased. The result was that beds, lackers, cupboards, and food of every description became smothered with this fine sand. —Beginning of Cromwell. —- As the diggers worked their way up the Dunstan Gorge past Hartley and Riley’s Beach, they became anxious to try the Kawarau River, which enters the Clutha at a point some three miles above the said beach. An adventurous miner named William Docherty', with whom I afterwards explored South Westland, stripped, tied his clothes into a neat bundle, and having lashed this along with a tin dish on the top of his head, he plunged, like Horatio of old, into the seething waters of the Clutha, below w'here Cromwell bridge now' stands. He succeeded in reaching a point above the junction of the Kawarau, and getting splendid prospects wherever he tried, a rush was made for the punt at Wilkin and Thomson’s sheep station some 35 miles further up the Clutha, and just above w'here Albertown is now' located. There supplies were obtained, flour at 2s 6d, and mutton at Is 6d per pound. Then a similar journey down the other side of the river to “The Point,” or “The Junction,” by either of which name it was known for several years till altered to the name of Cromwell. After this it was not long before a flat-bottomed punt, under the guidance of “Old Peter” w 7 as placed at the Junction. Then a better boat was put on by Pat and Charlie, and later a really good one by John McCormack, who afterwards became a famous bridge contractor in Australia, and, possessed of considerable wealth, died there a few years ago in Sydney. Finally, in 1864, Hill’s bridge was erected, and paid its proprietor handsomely. Of course Cromwell, like Clyde, was also originally constructed of sod and calico, blit owing to its situation at the foot of a terrace it was not so subject to the sand nuisance. Timber for building purposes and mining was the principal thing needed but the nearest forests wmre at the head of Lake Wanaka and Lake Hawera, some 60 miles distant. At that time no one was working in the Hawera Bush, but at Wanaka several sawyers were cutting timber for the Wanaka Station. Mr Henry Hill, a contractor who built the Black Forest Railway in Victoria, after putting the first boats on the river at Clyde and Mutton Town, made his way up the Wanaka and purchased all the timber that the sawyers had on hand. This, with the assistance of a gang of men under the management of Mr David Robertson, who died a few years ago at Evansdale, he built into small rafts, which were floated down the Makarora River without much difficulty, a distance of some 10 miles, where it enters Lake Wanaka. These small rafts, after being landed, were then built into a large raft of unlimited size. The timber was well secui-ed, and the raft, fitted with a mast, large tarpaulin square sail, sweeps for steering, and a boat attached, sailed with the usually prevailing strong northerly winds for the source or head of the Clutha, a distance of 36 miles. Here the large ra r t --as broken up and the timber landed. Small rafts, each containing about 3000 ft of timber, were put together. These were fitted with wooden toll-pins or rowlocks in which to work sweeps 25ft. long. This plan is the one still in use and has been in vogue for many years past. Mr Hill, however, did not odopt this system when he first sent down timber from the head of the Clutha. He aim pi v lashed the timber by' means of flax into bundles of 100 f- or so, and sent the bundles adrift, say, some 10.000 ft or 12,00&ft followed by men on each side of the river provided with long poles to push off any bundles that stuck at points or got into eddies. Of course many of the bundles got stuch on rocks and islands in the river where they could not be reached by the pole men. The bundles that escaped obstruction were finally captured bv the boat men at Clyde. It was soon found that this plan did not work well, besides it entailed a very considerable loss. Hill nexttried small rafts of 1000 ft each, with a man on board armed with a light but strong manuka pole to guide the raft. This was an improvement, but still very risky, for had it not been for the lifebelts worn by the men, several would have lost their lives. Those small rafts were navigated bv means of the pole to a landing place between Lowborn and Cromwell; but it was frequently a most difficult matter to catch the landing place, and once past it there was absolutely no choice but to shoot through the roaring, rocky gorge above Cromwell. This really happened to one man known as “The Boatswain.” His raft, after entering the gorge, turned a complete somersault, but he managed to climb on to the bottom of it, and brought

it into an eddy near Kawarau Junction, where he was rescued by the boatmen. Mr Hill carried on the rafting for about six months, when it was taken in hand by others, myself included. The journey (some 50 miles from the source to Cromwell) was a risky and perilous one. Tt needed men of strong nerve and capable of ewimming in rough turbulent water, and also possessed of a thorough knowledge of the river. I could name several brave but daring men who lost their lives at this work through not having these qualifications. —The Devil’s Nook and The Boiling Pot— The first serious obstacle in the river (a few miles below Albertown) was Snake Point. This, however, unless something went v.oang, was easily negotiated. The next (mar the confluence of the Luggate) was no doubt the worst danger on the journey. It is known as the “Devil's Nook.” Here the full force of the Clutha concentrates into a narrow, boiling central current, attaining a speed of about 20 miles an hour. This central rush of seething water spends itself with enormous force, and velocity against a rocky promontory forming a perpendicular barrier or wall. The impetus of the impact divides the rivor into two branches, one forming a great swirling eddy like a maelstrom ; the other, swerving in an opposite direction, continues its course downwards. Here the greatest coolness, nerve, and strength are necessary; for the raft, shooting down this central current right on to the rocky wall, has, by means of sweeps, to be swung into t-ho river branch at a distance of onv 200 or 500 yards from the terminal precipice. Should anything go wrong at this critical moment, the raft, with its occupants, would be hurled with mighty fury against the rocky wall and disappear for a moment, only to pop up again in the roaring eddy, from which there is absolutely no chance of again gaining the proper river channel. The raft, or timber of which it was composed, would career round and round in diminishing circles towards the centre, where it would be sucked under and disappear, only to appear again at its outside edge to continue trie same performance. Though I am aware that several rafts have got into this whirlpool, and could recount many a struggle for life, yet no lives have been nlost there to my knowledge. The men have always managed, while sweeping round, to grab some tussock or scrub to enable them to scramble up the rocky face to safety. The timber, however, would have to be dragged ashore somehow, and carted some distance down the river to be again rebuilt into a raft. The third serious impediment is some six miles below the Devil’s Nook, and is known as the “Boiling Pot.” Here the river enters the Maori Gorge, immediately above which it concentrates into a narrowchannel containing near its centre a huge rock just below the surface of the ordinary river level. The force of the current raises the water into a huge wave like a breaker on an ocean beach ; and as the raft must necessarily plunge through this, the result is that it generally sinks three or four feet below the surface, but rises again as soon as relieved of the wave pressure. With heavy timber especially, each man holding on to a strong flax life-line attached to the raft, this sudden plunge used to add zest to the voyage and was eagerly looked forward to as the final bit of exciting sport on the trip. From this point to the landing place, a couple of miles above Cromwell, perhaps—with the exception of Knobby Island oi Quartz Reef Point—there is, with a thorough knowledge of t-ha river, no difficulty in navigating a raft. Indeed, in ’64, I remember coming down the river in darkness after leaving the Lind is Junction, where we were stuck for a while on a shallow-bar. It was so dark that I could scarcely discern the landing place. On that occasion I had with me on the raft Mr Thos. Coop, afterwards for many years postmaster at Roxburgh, but now residing retired in Dunedin, and also the late Mr Robt. Kidd of Cromwell. Rafting on the Upper Clutha in those days was a splendid paying but a dangerous business. Owing to the risk few engaged in the occupation, and these mostly owned the timber conveyed. This used to sell in junk readily at" about £6 per 100 ft in Cromwell, where it was pit-sawed to suit purchasers, and here the late Mr William Grant and Mr George W. Goo tiger carried on tlie, timber trade. There was no eight hours working day and no half-holiday in those sturdy pioneering days. When rafting in the summer, after discharging the raft—that means carrying the timber ashore, sometimes un to our waists in water —we w'alked into Cromwell for supper and bed. Next morning at daylight, loaded up with ropes, we started to tramp the homeward journey of 42 miles to the foot of Lake Wanaka, arriving there about 4 p.m. After a meal, raft building would go on till dark, so as to have the raft readv for launching off the skids at daybreak next morning. Three trips a week us"d to be the, regular thing, barring accidents. It was strenuous w-ork; but we were young at that time and delighted in it. My last rafting was done about the year 1876. when, on one occasion. I brought, Mr Deans, the Curator of the Otago Acclimatisation Society, as well as ail his tin cans, on a raft from Wanaka- to Cromwell. Mr Deans had just been depositing the first trout ova in the lake. Well do I remember his last words on parting at our landing place : “Good bye; this trip has been the most exciting experience of mv life, and I can only add, thank God ! it is’safely over.” My last raft came to grief at- Snake Point in this way. I had occasion to put into Albertown 'for a few' minutes to secure something on the raft. A party of eight shearers for Mt. Pisa station asked me for a trip down on the raft. I agreed to take those only who could swim. Three came on board, but as we swung off the other five jumped on the raft, with the result that the raft was barely afloat, and became quite unmanageable. As I could not shove thorn overboard, I had to take my chance.

It came when we were abreast of Snake Point. Here some heavy pulling was required, when just at the critical moment the toll-pins carried away, and we went on to the rocks. I, however, managed to land them all safely. The last one, James Johnson, known as Big Jim, 1 fastened on to a couple of planks, and thus managed to s\\ im ashore, towing him behind me. Excepting Captain E. C. HeJditch, of Wanganui, and myself, the pioneer rafters of the Upper Clutha have now all passed to the Great Beyond.