RAKIURA.

Waikato Times, Volume 94, Issue 14770, 8 October 1921, Page 9 (Supplement)

RAKIURA.

A GLIMPSE OF STEWART ISLAND. (By Te Pana, Christchurch.) A break in the ragged clouds piled high on the horizon showed a glimmering patch of pearl-grey. The tumbling waters, dull leaden in hue, with misty foam caps, threw back a shimmer of light, a long shaft like a silver track gradually extending as the clouds faded away. A rosy red flicked up and coloured the stray wisps in the void ; it crimsoned the wave tops, and spec id like a scarlet blot throughout the sky. .lust above the rim of the sea the great flaring disc of the sun sent its flame streamers dancing. They touched the bluffs at East Head, sped along the coast and pink-tipped Mount Anglem, with its head wrapped still in fluffy night attire. The whole range of vision showed land, sea and sky under coloured light. Hakiura, the natives named Stewart Island: llakiura, the land of heavenly glows. And the. old Maoris, seeing with keen eves, were apt in their designation. The sunrise shades thrown on the island make it a natural poem in colour. . To the seasick traveller the trip across Fovcaux .Straits is like a journey through the throbbing waters of a cistern adjacent to Hades. But on landing at the tiny wharf at HalfMoon Bay, with his qualms passed from him, he gets a first glimpse of something of the natural beauti of the island. Nature has been lavish in spreading her charms. The crescent of yellow sand fringing the glassy water, the two long ridges of sheltering land, with clear-cut dols of • islands seemingly at their open end, the shining ‘‘mutton bird” trees, and the drooping rata touching the water is a vista of charm, soothing to Hie senses, pleasing to the i eye. The screech of sea-birds squabbling over the rcfuscu- from a near-by llsh shed, and the chug-chug of a motor launch arc the only sounds breaking a stillness which seems incredible, two hours’ steam from the noisy tittle port of Bluff. In early summer the rata trees fling their red-blossomed reflections into the sea; in winter, gicy skies arc mirrored in the bay. Whether under the lashing of a westerly gale or the glow of a brilliant sun, Stewart Island is a gem of beauty, an emerald in a silver setting of foam-flecked seas. Inlets and Seascapes. A.gap in the land two miles in width at the entrance, Paterson Inlet bites deeply, stretching for miles in a series of narrow waterways, broken with liny islands, and flanked by smaller arms, each calmly picturesque, and each lined with rata trees. Ulva lslc, near the entrance, is famed as sheltering the most southerly post office in the world. Here Waller Traill has built himself a home amidst towering native, trees in a quaint spot hidden far from the haunts of men. Away on a high point is the creek, where a remnant of Maoris, fishing for a living, dwell in the joys of sunshine, sea and sky. South is Port Adventure, fringed with tinv islets, which arc the homes of the' mutton birds, delicacy in the Maori pahs of New Zealand. At Port Pegasus there once was a tin mine. Two or three times a year a steamer drifted idly in and picked up a cargo. What days the weather was fine the handful of miners fished, and when the gales blew they delved for ore. Mason's Bay is a pastoral spot. Sheep graze contentedly on native pastures, and grow enough wool to provide an income for their owners. Of local industry blue cod fishing is first. The fame of Stewart Island oysters is known far and wide. But for the most part the bivalves are dredged in Fovcaux Straits by cutter crews from the Bluff. Oysterlng In the Straits. The nicn who handle the oyster cutters are great seamen. And they need to he. You may leave HalfMoon Bay or the Bluff on a clear morning, with only a light breeze blowing, and Mount Anglem standing clear to the west. An hour or two later a little white wisp of cloud can be seen flirting with the top of the mountain. It is a certain “bad weather" signal, and in half-an-hour it will be blowing a gale of wind with great foam-crested, roaring waves threatening the cutters. Sometimes the heavy sea prevents dredging operations; sometimes it does not. The oyster beds arc in a wild stretch of water utterly unprotected, so that the work in the Straits is always rough and dangerous. The dredge is a triangular frame of steel. At the apex, in a ring fitted for the purpose, a rope is made fast. From this, the side rods diverge at almost right angles, and extend down for a distance of four feet or more, where they are connected by I lie third side of the triangle which is the bottom of the dredge. There is a flat plate of steel over a yard in length, to which is bolted a row of sharp teeth. Attached to tlic plate and to the sides of I lie frame is a net of coarse fishing twine to catch the oysters raked loose from the bottom of the straits. cast is made, and Hie cutter drifts slowly over the beds, Its speed noticeably checked. On the dredge being hauled inboard, the not is usually full of mud and slime and small 'ovsters, with here and there a large one. The mess is dumped on deck and picked over—culchcd—while the next drift goes on. Ihe large ovslers only arc saved, the smaller‘kinds with the rubbish being returned to the sea. This is the life, living and gaining a living out in the free open under the sun and sky, witti the sea rocking beneath and the wind blowing gaily. For a full tide (he boats drift over the beds: then its up dredges and away to the Bluff. To ninety-nine men out of a hundred Hakiura, the land of heavenly glows, means nothing. But just mention Stewart Island oysters, and the whole hundred will claim a knowledge of them.