REMEMBRANCE.

Thames Star, Volume LVII, Issue 159224, 13 September 1923, Page 5

REMEMBRANCE.

LOOKING BACKWARD. (Contributed by C.L.S.) “Are ail these boats out of commission?” Idly the, question, was asked, as; the ferry boat glided past the many steamers, coal-hulks and other vessels at anchorage off Northcote. “Some of them.” was the reply. The Talune is there,and away over is tiie old Rotomahana, which once ran to and fro on the Thames line, ‘ ‘do you remember her? 1 ’ “Remember her?” Instantly, the mind flew Back to childhood’s days what memories surged through the mind and forced themselves to the front?

“Rotomahana?” There she lies —rusted——small—out-of-date. Can that small steamer really he thO “big steanwr” and delight, of our childhood day/! once so big, so roomy, so comfortable ? What pleasures, and alas, what “tragedies’ she calls to mind! The long look ed for holiday to Auckland. I sit again in Jack Connell’s cab with its blue door and large brass handle, borne along the seemingly endless wooden wharf, and there she lies- the “Rotomahana”' at the end. The narrow gangway is passed over and I am put in charge of the captain. rHow many Thamesites have travelled under his care ? As boys and girls going to Auckland for holiday? I see again the upper deck, and peep down the skylight to watch the steward setting the table beneath it. I see the long steep steps leading to the lower deck. I. see again the steps leading into the saloon,-R ,0 TOMA H A N A ,on each step, worn bright and shining with use. How we loved to dwell on each one and count the letters and spell thein out.

How many falls we got in doing so! How very often impatient adults thrust the youngsters aside as we werit up steps only to jump back again into the saloon to the mat at the stair footer 'to cling to the mast which came up at the foot of the steps. The long saloon table over which hung the swinging lamps and between them the swinging shelf with glasses and pot plants. The importance of sitting at the long table on the long horse-hair seat with its swing hack. The difficulty in getting quickly away; then the rolls—-not included in the menu—proved too much for the young traveller. I see again the ship’s clock,the filter, the sideboard and 1 smell again the stuffy ladies’ cabin at the left hand side. I see again the blue clad purser or steward whose name I cannot remember, but whose kindly nature is still green in my memory.; how kind he was to the children of Thames, who swarmround him as he counted the ‘silver’ of the ship. “Rotomahana!” do I remember? Is it not, rather, will we ever forget you? But is that really you? “Did we ever trust ourselves in you across the wide and often stormy Hauraki Gulf ? I gaze and gaze at you and through the mist of years I see you again big big! roomy! -and steady! piloted safely year after year by the ever remembered Captain Farquhar, loved by all children.

Quickly the Albatross glides by, and the gaze travels down the harbour to where the Wakatere is coming in.

Children are coming up from Thames to-day for their school holidays. But away back there lies the ‘Roto’ v unknown to the present children. How many old Thames boys and girls will recall their past holidays at the name and sight of ‘Rotomahana’ How many can see again the old wooden structure in Queen street the N.S.S.Co. tee, with its wooden shed when the Rotomahana came alongside ? The long line of touting cabmen- their cabs behind them- and hear again the cries- “Hansom, Sir?” “Hansom ?” ‘ ‘Handcart?’ ’ ‘ ‘Cab, Sir ?” To-day the motors await the children or they are whirled rapidly away by electric trams, but I am back again in the past -“Handcart,Sir?” “Yes,Sir!” The green and red carpet bag, they, round tin hat-box are carefully placed therein - “Thank-you, Sir!” We proudly follow, and come to the ’bus awaiting us. Bobbie drives that bus. We get in, or rather, on the seat beside him, and Oh! joy! as we go Up hills another horse is put on as leader. Bobbie sounds a bugle - the bus fills, up our corner comes too soon we :• get our modest luggage ~ horses stop “Good-bye, Bobbie.” And we arrive at our destination. Rotomahana! ! ! do we Thamesites remember ?