THE BISHOP AMONG THE WHALERS.

New Zealand Graphic, 24 December 1891, Page 19

THE BISHOP AMONG THE WHALERS.

Colonial life has many sides, but the variety used to be far greater in the past than it is now a-days. Rough ways have been smoothed, and the rough old whalers and halfwild bushmen have been replaced by more civilised beings. Many a dark crime was committed on the coast of New Zealand in the old days at the whaling stations, that probably used to appal even the principal actors themselves, after their recovery from the fit of drunken madness that had led up to the committal of crime. But if a germ of repentance did begin to shoot in their hearts, it was crushed out of all form by the next drunken spree they indulged in.

Few of the old whalers were known by their real names, as nick-names had effectually replaced them, and of these they were not a little proud. The baptismal name would, however, be retained ; but a prefix was added to it. Some of these sounded rather blasphemous, though the weatherbeaten old whaler had no intention of thus committing himself ; but indeed the peculiar language in which he used to express his likes, loves, and admiration for certain things, appeared to those, unaccustomed to his ways, strangely like cursing and swearing of a pungent character, but given utterance to in the softest tone he was capable of, though if expressing his disapprobation of things in general (a rather chronic state with old sailors) fastidious people would shut their ears and retire at once. If anyone who reads these lines ever visited the Wairoa whaling station, in Hawke’s Bay, in the forties or the fifties, they will acknowledge 1 rather under-rate than over-rate a state of things that existed during those periods. But these rough whalers could not be accused of want of hospitality ; none were more ready to bestow the last meal they had on the stranger who visited them. If a cask of rum had been tilted on end, and the head knocked in, you would be entreated to • dip your pannikin in, you old ’ (any adjective will fill in the blank); did you refuse the kindly invitation ever so politely, you would at once lose caste, and be held to be a useless, wretched, milksop. I knew a man who chanced to be present on an occasion of the kind referred to. He had strong reasons for keeping on good terms with these sons of Neptune ; but he disliked spirits ; they made him ill. He was invited to join in the drunk going on over a 30 gallon keg of 20 O. P. rum. To refuse was a danger not to be lightly risked ; but he got out of the difficulty by saying, in a melancholy and regretful way, that he was on the very verge of D.T.’s from a bout of drinking he had just come away front, at the last station from which he hailed. This was held to be a good and valid excuse, and redeemed his character in their opinions, when a tin billy of tea before him replaced the one of rum he had been requested to ‘ scoff. ’ One very powerful fellow, a half-caste Australian black, was known by the name of Shiloh. He was ‘ cock of the walk’at the Wairoa, being a first-class boat-steerer, harpooner, fighter, fifty-two inches round the chest and a hard drinker. These virtues retained him possession of the position he had gained. Another noted character was known by the name of Jack. Somebody, though, had remarked that Jack looked like a ghost, so he was given the prefix of Holy, and ‘ Holy Ghost Jack’ was an individual known far and near in Hawke’s Bay. But there was nothing like blasphemy intended in either of these cases. In all probability these sacred names had never been heard of as such in all their lives by their unsophisticated wearers. Such was the existing state of things at the Hawke’s Bay whaling stations at the time I have mentioned.

Occasionally a gang of whalers would come to Napier for a spree, and though they would spend their cash freely and insist on standing a treat to everyone, whether they liked it or not, the two hotel-keepers (it hotels they could be

called i had to be mighty eivil to their rough and ready customers, or take the consequences, from which there was no appeal or redress. < Ince, during my stay in Napier, some more than usually rough play had been going on at the Wairoa, which had ended in one individual forming a back log to the fire, during a drunken spree and fight, and a policeman was about to be dispatched to arrest—some one! Ou this news reaching the whalers of the Wairoa, they took it to be an insult —an infringing of their rights — and one and all declarer! their firm intention of making another back log of the bobby when he arrived. His threat they did not have the opportunity to carry out, as the Magistrate, Mr Alfred Domett, did not think it piu dent, under the circumstances, to send the |>oliceman. There were not a super abundance of these useful men in the days I speak of—a few could better be spared in these times.

Bishop Selwyn, a man devoted to his calling, and brave as a lion in the cause of his Master and for what he thought was right, was prompted, doubtless by his energy, to pay a visit to these men living at the Wairoa. In due course he arrived there, and introduced himself to the whalers, tell ing them be was the Bishop, and asked them to come to prayers the following day, and listen to what he had to say. To this they cheerfully assented. ‘ There is no pride in he,’ said they, • and he's a right sort o’ chap he be, though he be a parson. ’ A large building was prepared, and next morning soap and hot water was passed freely round, and the men donned their best rig out in honour of the Bishop, and assembled near to the building and waited. ‘ Well,’said His Lordship on coining up, ‘are you all here, and ready to begin ?’ ‘ Aye, aye, sir,’ replied one of the foremost, • but hadn't we better wait till Shiloh comes *’ (Shiloh was the halfcaste Australian black.)

The bishop, naturally enough, took this for a piece of irreverence little short of blasphemy, and sternly rebuked the man for what he thought was levity ; but the offenders were held excused on His Lordship being told that the only Shiloh they knew was ‘ the best (adjective) man on this ’ere whaling station,’ and that it was only his just right to start fair at praying with the others. This being settled, and Shiloh having an ived, they all entered the building aud His Lordship mounted the pulpit prepared for him—the founda tion of which looked suspiciously like having been fanned of rum casks. ‘ Are we all here ?’ asked the bishop.

One of the whalers sung out— ‘ Hold hard a bit, Mr Bishop, here’s Holy Ghost Jack a running like blazes across the paddock, and he’ll be here directly.’

After Jack had seated himself, the service began. All behaved with the greatest decorum till about the middle of the sermon, when the lookouts stationed on the high cliff over the bay to watch far sperm whale, sang out ‘ Whale O ! Whale O ! I’

Instinct is stronger in many instances than reason, and in less than five minutes the whole of the congregation had swarmed out to the sheds and began to launch the whaleboats. One boat’s crew being short of a hand, would have lostitschance; but the bishop seized an oar, and pulled stroke after the whales, and was loudly cheered and praised for the pluck and skill which he shewed in the management of his oar and knowledge of boating. Two sperm whales were the result of the days’ work, and as His Lordship’s visit was believed to have had something to do with the good fortune, he was voted a good fellow and offered a share of the spoil. The Bishop, however, gave them some good advice, and bade them farewell, resuming his tour.