WEEDS CHOKED RIVER AVON IN EARLY 80’S.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18550, 25 August 1928, Page 1

WEEDS CHOKED RIVER AVON IN EARLY 80’S.

OLD RESIDENT TELLS OF PADDLE STEAMER JOURNEYS ON STREAM.

Mr Harry Gardiner, in the following letter to the “ Star.” gives an interesting account of a paddle steamer which ran on the Avon in the eighties:—

I think the. Maid of the Avon was the last paddle boat on the Avon. I do not remember whether she was a maid or not, but I do remember that the name was on the bow. However, the one I am going to tell you about was rejuvenated—with many glands-r----and she really became very young again.

When I was a lad, in the year 1880, and had served six years at the engineering in the Christchurch railway workshops, 1 was visiting a friend of mine named Jack King. He had a blacksmith’s shop in Montreal Street on the opposite side to the back of the Normal School. It was rather a big shop for one man to work in. Mr King's father kept a hotel just further north, at the corner mentioned before Well, in this shop was a large boat. It was about 30ft long, and, I think, had been used in the water before, because Mr King said to me, “ There you are, I larry! What do you think of that lot ? I will sell you the whole bang lot cheap—paddle-wheels, four cylinders and everything belonging to her. You can do her up and have some fun with her on Saturdays (this was the day oft).” I was at once bent on going to sea. I became enthusiastic as soon as I saw her. and wished I could have her. I looked over the mechanical . parts—the only parts I was able to give my opinion about — and said thej T were very crude. ” Well; what about the boat?” he asked. I said I did not know anything about boat building “ Well,” he said, “ let me tell you they say that, she is one of the best little boats ever built in Canterbury. and I am prepared to sell the Tot at less than what the hull cost to build.” “ Well,” I said, “ what is your price for the lot?” “I have no set price.” he said, “ and, as you are able lo do what is wanted to the engine, I know that you are the most likely chap to buy it. It does not belong to me.' : I said to myself, “ I must see Uncle Tack about this. He is of a mechanical turn of mind (Mr J. Garland, proprietor of the Railway Hotel), and also Unde Tom Swinton. foreman of the fittings shops, Christchurch Railways.” I received a very good hearing from the. former, and I said he could see what ray Uncle Tom said about it. Gf course. I was at the blacksmith's shop as often as I was able, and one fine day I found Mr J.G. and Mr T.S. there. They took no notice of me, and I pretended not to notice them, in a way, only to be respectful to themI laving had no father since I was four, they were the best friends I had, especially Mr Swinton. lie called me to him and said: “What do you think of it, lad?" I said: “I do not like the engine much. Uncle,” and he smiled just a little, looking away. I said: “If the price is not too much, would it cost very much to have the engine done up?” I then went away because I could see that it was on my account they were interested. Mr Swinton looked round for me and said: “What about the boiler?” This, no doubt, was to instruct me. I said that I could not 6ee much wrong with it, except that, perhaps, it was not big enough. “That is quite right, my lad.” said my uncle, and I felt as I had never done before. I was very pleased, but was shaking all over, ar.d he could see that, so he got out his ivory rule and ran it over the boiler. “Forty ballons,” ‘ said Uncle Jack. “That is no good.” lie turned to me. “But,” I said, “there is a pump and an injector.” “Even so, she would not take you five miles on that river, where I suppose she will go some day.” Looking at Uncle Jack, he said: “She wants a combustion chamber ‘tacked’ on to her.” This was all French to me. but I had confidence in the knowledge he had of these things, and so rlid many others. He ran his rule over the boiler in a different way this time, and in a few minutes he worked out in figures exactly the size of this new part and the size of the plates required, etc., etc. “Take this to Scott 8r05.,” be said, “and send the other gear there in the morning, Mr King. I will -send a t»oiierraaker along as soon as they have the plates ready, and he will finish it in a few weeks. He can put in his Saturdays off and the nipper will give him a hand.” (I was then out of work.)

I was very pleased about the boilermaker, for I knew him very well. He told me what to do during the week, drilling holes in the plates and so on, and He put in the Saturday afternoons and, as was stated, in two weeks the boiler was ready to go into the boat. The other repairs went from Scott’s foundry* to the boat when she was launched. All the cylinders and the other gear were connected to the paddle wheels. There were four cylinders working on an angle of 90 degrees, either paddle wheel could be put out of action, and either side could be reversed, and it will interest the boys

of to-day to know bow the reversing gear was worked. I have never seen anything like it since. Through the eccentric sheaves there was a round hole and on the shaft there was a keyed cam, and the reversing lever with forked end fitted into a groove in the cam. On to this cam was fitted a round piece of steel, just large enough to go through the hole in the eccentric sheave, but the round piece was twisted like a screw around the shaft, so that when the twisted piece was push rd through the sheave by the reversing lever it turned the eccentric sheaves to their proper position. Now the time came when all was ready, and the boat was placed in the river near the Victoria Bridge. The boiler was lowered into the boat over the bridge, with the assistance of all the men that were passing in those clays. They numbered about six, and this at lunch-time, too. Mr J... Brown was procured from somewhere as chief engineer. He was quite a stranger to me, but proved himself to be a very line and jolly fellow. After a lot of work and adjusting had been done we floated down to the Colombo Street bridge to see how much of the funnel would have to come off. So it had to Ije unbolted and taken down. Jack did not mind this; he was all smiles. A hinge was put on, and also a rest, so that the funnel could go under the bridges. The day came when all was ready to get up steam. Jack and I went for a trip on our own. We had some 1 rouble with the weeds and the watercress. Some of the stuff had stems quite an inch thick, and yards long. All went well this day, especially go mg through the boat club water. I *hink there was more water there then, and we had gone about halfway to Brighton when a nor’-wester came on. We had to stop now and again when it blew us on to the bank and ah among the weeds. When I was not at the helm I was I lushing the weeds off the nose of her and sometimes the paddles were like two traction wheels. Jack said, “Xevei mind. So much the less to go through jiext time.” jjThen the news got about that we

had got home in spite of the nor'wester, reserved seats were ordered at any price, and some had to be refused Jack Brown sang out when the passengers arrived: “This way 1 This way! The first and fastest boat in the river. This way!” And off we went. Some thought it would be nicer sitting down on the seats provided, but when she began to plough up the weeds they seemed to like standing better. Uncle Jack took the helm, but he soon found that without some way on she could not be controlled very easily down stream. And, of course, we soon found the bank, and sometimes went round and round. Jack said: “Let the nipper hax-e her. Jack. He knows the trick.” But Uncle Jack smiled, and so did I. So long as everyone enjoyed the fun—and they did—l could see plenty to do on ahead. After a little while she went all right. We did not go so far this day, but every one enjoyed the fun. Then it was decided that some things be altered. One was to alter the angle of the blades so that they would not catch the weeds. The blade covers also had to come off so that we could get at the weeds better. In about another week Jack and I had things put as ordered, working from 6.30 a.m. until it was too dark to see anything.

Among the next lot of passengers was a Mr W. Holdcroft, a first-class engineer—one of those sent for from Leeds, England. It was on some holiday and we started away about ten in the morning, and all went well, barring the usual weeds, which we all expected. As no one cared to sit down the seats were all turned up to make more room. We had gone down a good way and the nearer we got to Brighton the worse it was. There was very deep water at times, but it was not good going. It was decided to turn back on the course that we had been over many times. Those who were standing at the fire hold door began to wonder how we were going to get back on the small amount of coal they could see at the bottom of the boat" Some of them became quite perturbed about it, and told Jack he would never get back on “that lump of coal.”

Jack Brown said to me: “Did you get those bunkers filled up?” I said “Ye-es,” and pretended to be doing something with my head down, because I had to laugh. Mr Holdcroft, the man whom I had been working with for year?, took hold of me by the back of the neck and pulled me up to him, saying, “What bunkum is this you are telling us, matie?” Then I said to Jack Brown: “That’s the place, straight in there past the weeds. Let someone stand by with the hook in the bow, as the river is rather strong there, and may turn her too far out into the middle of the stream.”

Uncle Jack saw the joke and I jumped ashore. Mr Holdcroft said, “Where is he off?” and then from the rushes I dragged out three-quarters of a bag of coal which we had placed there some days ago. It will take too long to state what fun it caused. So we let the bow go and off we went again. It was getting late in the afternoon and Jack made her go, when we got into clear water without weeds. When we were near Cowlishaw’s Corner, with a good stretch of water by the club boatsheds, Mr Holdcroft erpied some very small bubbles all along the seam at our end of the boiler, and he said to Jack in a loud voice: “What steam have you got on her?” Jack said: “About 150.” “What?” said Mr Holdcroft, “open that d door or I am out in two ticks.” And he did make for the side, which made the boat rock. Jack said, "IS you rock her like that you will have the water off the crown of the boiler Then we will all go out.” “Why,” said Mr Holdcroft, “I would not trust her with more than SO at the most.”

However, we all reached a landing just near the Fire Brigade station at Colombo Street, all the better for a jolly good outing. It was found after that the crown of the fire-box had come down some inches.

I was later offered a job at the old ‘Press” office.

Just fancy, that was half a century ago, and many of you were not in existence.