When Timaru was Tussock

Timaru Herald, Volume CXLVII, Issue 21529, 16 December 1939, Page 41 (Supplement)

When Timaru was Tussock

A PIONEER LOOKS BACK

SHIPWRECK MEMORIES

(Contributed by A. J. MORRIS) \UHEN lime goes flying it behoves man to get into his best stride so that lie shall not be left behind in the race for life against Nature. In this district the evidence of his advance is manifest to all and the fruits of his labours in overcoming all obstacles and clearing the way to prosperity clearly shows that the pioneers were of the stuff that kingdoms are made, otherwise from what source did they obtain the grit and stamina that forthwith showed itself in the rebuilding of the town after a nor’-west gale had swept it away in flames and smoke?

When I first saw daylight, some three - quarters of a century ago, Nature's rule was practically In the ascendant. The site of our town was then freely embellished with tussocks, wild Irishmen, and a few cabbage trees, but contained no native bush. In a few of the gullies and around the lagoons and creeks could be found a fine assortment of koromikos, manuka scrub, flax, cabbage trees and small shrubs. All the forest trees which had at some previous age been growing over practically the whole of the district had disappeared, and only in the Waimataitai and Otipua gullies could be found buried in the banks rf i the creeks some huge trunks of the old j trees. Evidence of this previous i afforestation was for many years out- I standing on the hillsides where could be seen the innumerable pock-marked holes which had contained the root crowns of trees which had evidently been blown down during some prehistoric tornado or cloud burst. There Was nothing to show that they had been destroyed by fire. Those dug up out of the creeks proved very acceptable to the adjoining property owners not only for firewood but for fencing and rough building purposes. At the time ot my nativity there were comparatively few houses about cur embryo settlement, and the wild pigs and wekas had the free run of the countryside until they were all hunted down and turned into edibles. Timaru was not declared a borough until some time afterwards, not until such time as its citizens of credit and j renown collectively considered that they had advanced .sufficiently far into th > walks of life to take to themselves 1 the burdens and privileges, which they ’ had reason to assume were theirs by j th - rights of inheritance, to make 1 easier the vicissitudes of their fellow townsmen. And right well they car- | ried out their trusts. Work there was I not much of in those good old times, 1 but man lived and thrived on bread ' or damper and mutton with a few potatoes and vegetables occassionally, and not only considered himself wdll off. but was so. Wages and Costs On an analysis of the past and' present conditions he was infinitely; better off then on one shilling an hour than he is now on the high wages and high cost of living. He did not ex- | pect nor did he ask for all the luxuries of life as human nature does these times and many of them have since become well-off or wealthy. Then it was a case of hail fellow well met, and every Jack considered that ne was as good as his master. Men knew little of their fellow men, and so long as those fellow beings played the game no questions were asked as to who or what they were. Scions of nobility and society were sent out to New Zealand to better themselves and more than one belted earl played the game of “boots” or rouseabout in a pub unknown to its I inmates. We all made our own amusements without the assistance of picture j shows (excepting panoramas and dioramas) without other extraneous matters to afford us the material for our entertainment. Theatricals were few and far between because the staffs ! and scenery had either to travel by ! small steamer like the famous ‘‘fast! and furious” Beautiful Star, which' could at a pinch plough through the ocean at eight miles an hour on a forced draught, or by Cobb and Co.’s coaches with such well-known whips as Martelli, Cramond, Knight. Griffin, Meikle, or others, on the box scat. Otherwise if one did not possess a bullock dray the journey to or from Christchurch and Timaru had to be performed on horseback or by Shank's pony with a bluey on your back. . . . About once a year the runholders and other lords of creation from the backblocks took charge of the town for a week’s jamboree and then the town •‘hummed” with revivant life. One of their games was to barricade the road in front of the Melville Hotel and collect toll on every vehicle that passed through, the total proceeds being handed to the Hospital. Those coaches were a great institution not only in making Beswick Street their daily rendevous and stabling quarters and thus causing that street to be perpetuated as the living “hub” of the Timaru universe but a source of great surreptitious joy to the juveniles who wanted assistance to get home early by hanging on behind to a tail strap, until some envious juvenile on the footpath yelled to the driver, “Whip behind.” Like a flash of lightning the lash of the driver’s whip curled itself round the squirming form of the young hangeron to the amusement of the onlookers. But those coaches otherwise served their useful purposes, particularly when they carried the Queen’s representative on his official gubernatorial visit to our midst. Then there would be the building of the triumphal arch of welcome round which the elite and all hands and the cook would congregate ready to do the honours to His Excellency. A messenger on horseback would be sent to the top of Belfield Hill with instruc- ' tions, as soon as he sighted the coach. I to ride post haste to Timaru to spread the glad tidings so that the powers . that were should have time to get 1 everything ready to welcome our visitor with military honours as he passed un- ' der the Arch of Welcome. Then the rest '

of the day and night was given over to feasting and jollification. That was long before the construction of the Canterbury railways, or “Snailways” as they were facetiously called to commemorate the record breaking speeds developed by the engines. First Railway It was a great day for Timaru when the first train ran a few miles to the north of the town and many availed themselves of the cheap rides. But greater was the jubilation when the first train came through from Christchurch. Every man's breast then swelled with joy at the knowledge that we then became an integral entity of the living world. The journey in comparison to and from Timaru and Waimate by bullock waggon used to occupy an average of two weeks. In spite of all of life's drawbacks in our settlement we had plenty to occupy our minds. Caroline Bay was then a bay of deep water and if anyone had then declared that eventually it would become a silt accumulation to draw its thousands for fashionable bathing and other recreations he would have been ostracised into safe keeping. Visiting steamers on arrival circled round the bay and fired a shot from their signal gun to let the residents know that, they had arrived. The inception of the harbour works changed the spirit of our dreams. Those works were constructed to save the reputation of the port from further possible shipwrecks and to aid the handling of the imports and exports, but in the wildest flights of imagination it was never believed that the port would come to its present state of utility and service. The general conditions have changed—the seasons in particular very materially. Our well known nor’-westers used to blow sometimes with almost gale force, practically without cessation for about three months until the end of the year, the Agricultural Show day being invariably heralded in and out accompanied by the clouds of dust churned up by the vehicular traffic. But of late years those winds seem to have migrated to some other clime and in their place we have been treated to the easterly sea I wind which used usually to start at the end of the year and blow coni tinuously until Easter. Neither do we now get treated to the wonderful displays of sheet lightning that used to I illuminate the mountains to the nor’west. In the good old days the Timaru wrecks were the theme mostly disI cussed, or the probability of more, according to the weather. i Timaru Wrecks I How often have we watched to I see that famous two flag signal— I "Put to sea at once”—fluttering from the flagstaff at the lighthouse. And then the excitement on board each vessel as they loosened out the sails, slipped their cables, and headed for the open sea. But it could not always be so. The most surprising thing about the Timaru wrecks is the fact that they have always occurred in the most gloriously fine weather with not a breath of wind to help any one of those in distress to crawl away to safety. Those wrecks occurred so often that we all became ardent believers in the fatality that is supposed to be afflnitous to the number “13.” As | regular as clockwork as soon as number 13 dropped anchor in the roadstead so soon would an “old man” sea sweep into the roadstead. And then ' the anxiety of waiting up, probably all night, for the sound of the rocket brigade's signal rocket which was the announcement that some vessel was in distress. Generally the heavy sea made a olean sweep of everything afloat in the roadstead. On one occasion only a small ketch weathered the storm with no one on board the crew having clambered on board another drifting vessel which had collided with theirs. Most of the vessels came ashore at a right angle to their anchorage or broadside on to the sea. Several of them went ashore where the National Mortgage wool store now stands; that was before there was any reclamation of shingle on the south side of the concrete breakwater; some at the site of the base of the breakwater; one in front of the Government landing service; several on the reef from the boating club's shed to Caroline Bay; one on the site of the middle tennis court on the bay, the crew dropping from the end of her jibboom which protruded over the small cliff overlooking the courts; two under the factory cliff; and four at the northern end of the Benvenue cliff (this cliff having since received its nomenclature from the fact that the ship “Benvenue” became a total wreck there) the four having been drawn there as if by the influence of a magnetic lodestone, the space occupied by them being about equal to scarcely more than two ships' lengths. Coastline Changes It must be borne in mind that the coastline conditions in those days were ir ich different from what they are now. The beach line to the north before the breakwater prevented the shingle travelling up the coast was in most parts fully three chains further out seawards; and a quantity about equal

to that in width from part of the northern cliffs has also since been washed away. When this denudation first manifested itself the sea in heavy weather used to pour through the northern trestle railway bridge at Caroline Bay over the main road into what was then Perry's Pond and pedestrians had to wait their chance to get through between the heavy waves. At the same time the seas used to strike the rubble protection put down by the railway to protect the trestle bridge on the site of the present viaduct from being washed away. If. by any chance, passengers in the railway carriages had left the windows open for fresh air or to enjoy the view they were assured of a free gratis and for nothing salt water shower bath.

The sea not only caused annoyance about Caroline Bay and the cliffs in the immediate vicinity, which the railway had to protect with rubble, but it necessitated them building a stone retaining wall in front of the railway station about midway between the station buildings and the goods shed and it was not an uncommon thing for the station master and his staff to have to perform the unpleasant duty of clearing the seaweed and other flotsam and jetsam from off the railway lines before the morning trains could be despatched. There was a lot of deep study to be cogitated from the vagaries of the sea action in the good old days. When one saw a vessel straining at her cables with her stern to the action of the heavy seas it gave one room for thought. And then again how often have we juveniles imitated the example of our elders, especially the old Deal boatmen who in the early days of the port were imported to work the surfboats, who drove two sticks into the foreshore to get the alignment of a drifting vessel's foremast and then watch and calculate the drift of that vessel as she was rolled and tossed about by the mountainous seas. Rarely were they wrong in their judgment of the time they reckoned it would take the seas to drive her ashore.

Those days have passed and so will the knowledge of circumstances of equal import vanish into total oblivion. The rising generation cannot be made to understand or appreciate what has passed and gone before. Only the old hands remember or know anything about the days and nights spent watching the fate of some helpless and doomed vessel and her more than helpless crew as they strove to beat her out to a safe offing.

Black Sunday

The happenings on the famous Black Sunday of Timaru, May 14, 1882. are too well known to be detailed here. Suffice it for me to recall to mind one instance that will never be obliterated from the memory of those who saw it. On the Sunday morning after the Akbar was wrecked on the Ninety Mile Beach a string of about six vessels (including the well known frequenter of this port, the “Annie Bow,” which held the sailing record of seven days from Newcastle to Timaru) lay off the Ninety Mile Beach scarcely more than clear of the breakers with one small schooner just clear of Dashing Rocks. Not a breath of wind was there to help the crew of the schooner to weather the rocks on the lee shore. As the vessel was being driven helplessly down to the island reef to the north of Dashing Rocks by the fury of the waves the crew, as a forlorn hope, could be seen to strip themselves for a last swim to their certain death. Nothing but an absolute miracle could prevent that vessel from being dashed to pieces when she struck the rocks, and no human aid could save that crew. Closer and closer to that reef she was driven. But they say that an urchin sits up aloft to watch over the fate of poor Jack. Just as she rose on about the last wave to be dashed to pieces, lo and behold that miracle was performed—a catspaw of wind bellied out her sails and she missed destruction as she scraped her side past the reef and clawed out to sea and safety. The hundreds of persons, who, stupified in their helplessness, witnessed that drama left the locality with a knowledge that they could not explain away.