Sketcher.

Southern Cross, Volume 8, Issue 31, 24 November 1900, Page 12

Sketcher.

A BIG DAY AT THE BLUFF.

(Bt “ Ramblee.”)

The Bluff has made a big stride forward since the trial trip of the tug Awarua, one day in March fifteen years ago. The policy of progress then initiated by the Harbour Board has been continued, and the municipal authorities have vied with them in their determination to keep pace with the times. On shore, new buildings, public and pinvate, have gone up by the score. VV hile business interests have received due attention, the amenities of the place have not been overlooked, and to-day, thanks to the energy of the town council, the borough possesses one of the finest marine parades in the colony skirting the Bluff Hill for nearly three miles from the pilot station, with charming hillside nooks and retreats on one hand, and a magnificent seascape on the other. The most noteworthy additions to the public edifices are the Government offices a handsome two - storeyed structure in brick at the corner of Gore and Lee streets. Their formal opening and the naming of the Harbour Board’s new tug, the Theresa Ward, and the opening of Ward Parade, were made the occasion of a holiday on Wednesday last, and when visitors to the port, of whom there were over a thousand, reached there by one or other of the special or ordinary trains fthe bulk going by the 11.10 a.tn,), it was to find the whole population in the streets, with bunting flying in every direction. There was no doubt about it —the Bluff was out for the day, and was bent on having a good time, and enabling others to do likewise.

The weather, wet and cold at Invercargill, was much pleasanter at Southland’s port, and when the throng streamed down to the wharf to witness the naming of the tug, it was evident that there was a happy time in front of everybody. Here we are at the wharf, with the Board’s latest acquisition lying not far from the Union Co.’s stately liner, the Waikare. Curiosity is rife. Everybody is asking questions and expressing opinions, and everybody is complimenting the Harbourmaster, Capt. Macdonald on the excellent judgment he has displayed in securing such a fine boat for the harbour. A boxful of machinery inside, a thing of beauty as well as utility outside, as someone put it. Why, look ! Here’s a bottle of champagne dangling from a ribbon, one end attached to the tug and the other to the wharf. The Mercantile Rifles, smart, well set-up men in khaki, under Capt. Watson, march down to the spot, the Bluff Band, with Bandmaster Slater, despite a sprained ankle, on duty, take up a position, the crowd closes up, the Hon. J. Gr. Ward and his daughter, Miss Eileen Ward, come on the scene, and the young lady, smiling in spite of the weight of responsibility thrust upon her youthful shoulders, grasps the ribbon. Then Mr J. W. Mitchell, the genial chairman of the Board, faces the crovrded wharf, behind him a tug crammed with eager spectators. He recounts the history of the port, its ups and downs, its straggles against adversity, its advent into the smooth waters of prosperity, and then introduces the new tug, which has, he tells us, three times the power and twice the speed of the old Awarua. The Hon. J. Gr. Ward follows. He is in his happiest vein, and his hope that the new tug will be able to undertake two trips weekly to Stewart Island is greeted with cheers. The speech over, the critical moment arrives. Miss Ward gives a pull shoreward, then lets go, and the bottle is dashed and smashed against the side of the tug, and with the words —‘ I name this vessel Theresa Ward and wish her good luck, and hope He who rules all things will guard her,’ the ceremony is over. Then cheers, then a feu de joie from the volunteers, and music from the band; then the veteran Gifford ot

the Harbour Staff sends the Union Jack aloft and removes the board concealing the vessel’s name, someone calls out, ‘ Mr O’Brien, keep that end of the ribbon for Miss Ward,’ and soon after some 200 people are aboard, and the tug is outward bound. Not too far, though. She behaves beautifully, but it is rough outside, and a turn is soon made that gives the excursionists a good view of the quarantine buildings, and then homeward. Meantime refreshments have been liberally dispensed by the Board, whose members and exmembers are cheered to the echo at the instance of Mr Reed, Campbelltown’s youthful but energetic mayor, who bears testimony to the way in which the Board has co-operated with the Council in promoting the welfare of the port. Mr A. Bain says “ Thanks, old man,” in a short speech, Mr Pollard eulogises the staff, Mr J. A. Mitchell calls for cheers for our hosts, and here we are at the wharf again. The tug empties at one gangway and fills at another, and for the rest of the afternoon she and the Awarna are out and about the harbour on pleasure bent —that is, their passengers are. _ . At half-past two the public buildings have to be opened. Here come the school children, with Mr G. R. George, chairman, and committeemen McKenzie, Donaldson, and Dale, headmaster Young, assistant Millar, Miss Townshend, mistress, and Misses Gifford and Poynter. Mr D. M. McDougall makes a first-class marshal and the youngsters, the girls carrying parti-coloured flags, and all wearing their brightest smiles, are an inspiring sight. Then the tramp of armed men —the Mercantiles again, next the Fire Brigade, Capt. Georgeson at their head, and finally the Oddfellows, with N.G. Bro. McQuarrie and P.P.G.M. Bro. J. S. A. McDougall. The Bluff Band plays, and the Invercargill City Guards’ Band, who came down by the mid-day train, also beguile the time. From the roof of the railway station shadowcatcher Campbell, and a local knight of the camera, Mr B. Nichol, are hard at work on the crowd massed below. Presently Mr Reed opens the formal proceedings, and in a short businesslike speech demonstrates the right of the Bluff to have first-class public buildings. His voice is clear and resonant, and he makes good use of it—as one of the crowd says— ‘ He speaks very well indeed ; for a young man he is very good.’ Then succeeds Mr Ward, and by dint of figures covering the last ten years he drives home the fact that in every department of postal worx the Bluff has advanced at a marvellous rate. He speaks in highly complimentary terras of the architect, Mr P. Walker, and the contractor, MrMenzies; they had given the utmost satisfaction to the Government. The buildings, he explains, include post and telegraph offices, Customs, Magistrate’s Court, and offices for the representative of the Stock Department, Captain Raymond. He then declares the buildings duly opened. Mr J. S. Goldie, Mayor of Invercargill, thanks the Bluff people for their hospitable treatment of their visitors, and the rifles crack, the bands play. Now off we go to assist at the third item in the day’s doings the opening of the Ward Parade. A carriage and pair and a drag convey the official section of the procession, and the bands enliven the journey with selections. The most striking feature of this part of the ceremony is the presence of a number of cyclists, including four ladies, whose machines are tastefully decorated with native shrubs and flow'ers, supplemented in one case with beautiful lilies of the Nile. Past the Point, and on to a platform and behind a breakwind of brushwood, variegated with flags. Mr Reed makes another capital little speech, Mr Ward again excels himself, Mr J. W. Mitchell proves the value of tourists to a country, more volleys, ditto music, and the Parade is duly opened. Before leaving Mr Reed warmly thanks the visitors, and especially the Rifles and the City

Band, and the Rev. Mr McLaren calls for three cheers for the Mayor, and then, with the tugs gliding through I the water below, and the breeze fanning the heated faces of the weary but happy pedestrians, we plod back to the Bluff, and wait for the 6.20 p.m. train. The wharves, the .shipping, the hills, and last bat not least, the Sailors’ Rest, provide sightseers with ample material. The feathered and other curios exhibited by Mr Hutton, the courteous and capable care-taker of the Rest, are voted delightful—his skill as a taxidermist is shown in the treatment of albatross and penguin and other denizens of the islands of the Far South. But still the Bluff has a trump card to play—a banquet to the Hon. J. G. Ward, and we stay for that. So do representatives from nearly every part of Southland. It is a big feather, or rather a whole bird, in the caps of the promoters and committee —Messrs J. fl. Reed, Roberts, J. King, junr., Barker, Greorgeson, Parsons, D. M. McDougall, junr., Metzger, Horrobin, Bailey, and Oapt. Roberts, and Mesdames Roberts, Hamilton, Rose, and Finnerty. Messrs Kingsland and Son are the caterers, and never did better, a string band plays in first-class style, songs are sung by the guest of the evening, and by Messrs E. Kichol, F. A. Johnson, Hyde, and the Mayor. Speeches, too, of course, are made, that of the Hon. Mr Ward being at once comprehensive and interesting, dealing as it did with the Pacific Cable, the penny post, and other topics of widespread concern. The drill hall, commodious though it is, was crowded —the gathering has never been equalled at the Bluff, and never were a greater number of ladies present. It is a splendid tribute to the member for Awarua — one any man should be proud to receive and deserve.

But the train’s off Invercargillward, and I’m sleepy, and my paper’s given out, but just let me say once more —it was a big day at the Bluff. Bravo, the Bluff! Bravo, Southland ! Let’s give three cheers for ourselves, as the Hon. J. Gr. says.