A TRIP TO WHANGAREI.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 16, 16 April 1892, Page 395

A TRIP TO WHANGAREI.

BY

‘KIWI.’

HAD heard much of Whangarei Har- ' hour—its prettiness had been told me ImKbM I WSO many—therefore it was with pleasant ant *cipations that I purchased my ticket at Auckland for those waters. | At 10.30 p.m., punctually to advertised time, the s.s. Wellington cast off from the Queen-street Wharf and our journey began. The night air to a Laplander would, no doubt, have proved enervating, but to my North New Zealand susceptibilities it was positively chilly, so after standing on deck until we had passed H. M.S. Tauranga in mid stream, I went below, and, like he who ‘ drowned the tempest with his snore,’ was soon asleen.

The day was breaking when I awoke and went on deck. We were just abreast of the Whangarei Heads, and the mountains looked bluish in the misty light. In outline the Heads reminded me very forcibly of Mount Tokotoko on the Northern Wairoa, and seemed composed of nothing but solid all-time-resisting rock. The hill directly opposite Marsden Point is particularly striking, the summit forming a good representation of a spread eagle. Waipu landing, at

which place we called to leave some forty sheep, is just within the Heads, and has a fine water approach. It boasts a substantial wharf, a good beach, but little moie. Tons upon tons of white glistening sand have been blown up from the beach to the slightly higher land, and on a blight moonlight night the sight of this wind drift —which in day time is wearisome to the eyes—must be beautiful. After a brief delay at Waipu Landing, the propeller was again set revolving, and we were proceeding on our way up the harbour. This part was alone worth the trip, as the scenery was extremely pretty. A wide expanse of water, bounded on the right with towering mountains, and on the left by distinctly marked black and white cliffs, with here and there, just showing, a white or yellow tipped sandbank, is Whangare’ Harbour below Limestone Rock. The mixed bush coming down to the water’s edge and reaching away over the hills till its topmost trees stand out clear against the rosy sky, is a picture which Mr T. L Drummond has thought worthy of his artistic notice. The boulders on the shore showed by their roundness the action of the delicately green water, through which we were leaving a flaky train. The sun was now emancipated from the downy-looking mists, and was shining cheeifully behind us, tinging the tops of the trees and mountains, sandbanks and wavelets with here a scarlet and there a golden glow, and throwing fanciful shadows in relief on the glistening beach. The water was alive with fish, and the mullet and sprat, showing their beautiful backs and fins, danced and jumped like so many birds. The white sails of the cutters Fawn and Leo, with those of a few fishing yachts contributed the quota, without which a marine picture would be incomplete ; whilst the red buoys floating at anchor reminded us that there is oft times danger in Beauty's bosom, and marked the channel to the Railway Wharf. Whangarei is distant from this wharf about 2j miles by rail, but can be reached via the Iloetea River, by vessels

of light draught. The Hoetea, from the Railway Wharf, presents a good sweeping appearance, and winds in elbow fashion, between tall mangroves to the township. Whangarei, about 74 miles north of Auckland by the sea route and 80 by the road, is built partly on a flat ami partly on a gentle rise. The whole is surrounded by mountains—on the one side by the Pariaka and on the other by the Tikipunga Ranges. The business places are to be found clustered together on the level portion, whilst the orchards occupy the higher ground. Cameron-street, the principal thoroughfare, is broad and flat, and has a row of fine shops and offices on either side. Mr Hutchins’ Whangarei Hotel (the favourite house of tourists in the district), the Good Templars’ Hall, and the premises of Messrs Tucker and Co., carriage builders, aie here situate, as are also those of Mr T. L. Drummond, ironmonger, and the offices of Messrs Devore and Cooper and the Government Life Assurance. At the head of Cameron street on the right is the Colonial Bank Building, a fine wooden structure, beautifully panelled inside, and painted terracotta and slate without. Facing this on the left is the Bank of New Zealand, a plain but neat looking building of white. A few seconds’ walk along the road which leads to Kamo brings the pedestrian to the Presbyterian Church

facing the town fire-bell—a very appropriate arrangement, as both give warning of a similar danger. A little further on is the Wesleyan Church, and yet a little further the Anglican. The Roman Catholics also have a sacred edifice somewhat nearer the railway station. Local questions are thrashed out and general news disseminated by the means of two weekly journals— The Marsden Tinies and 7'Ae Northern Advocate. The new Court House in Walton-street is a credit to any country town (the building, I mean, not the fact of its existence), and was completed only late in last year. Like the Masonic Hall which adjoins it, it is built of brick, and has consequently a substantial appearance. The hall referred to has plaster facings, and much resembles in design the larger building of a similar name in Auckland. Of course, the township would be incomplete without a racecourse, and so a fair-sized grand stand marks where the field —a fine level stretch —is to be found.

Walking around the outskirts of the town I observed the fruit trees to be weighed down with fruit, the crop of peaches being especially heavy. As is the case with most flats, the peppermint plant is present in strong force, ami its smell, blended with the odour of peaches and many sweet-smelling flowers, is not at all unpleasant. About mid-way between Whangarei ami Kamo, nestled under the sheltering northern spur of Pariaka, is the little community of Mairtown. As may be inferred, the settlement derives its name from a member of a family that has played an important part in our Maori Wars. Mairtown is to Whangarei what the ‘ holiest of holies’ is to the temple : it is the orchard of the district. Here are situated Messrs Dobbie s Orange Plantations, known under the names of • Wairere ’ (Angry Waters) and ‘ Stonyhill.’ Two hotels, a few shops, several private houses, and a post and telegraph station constitute what is marked on the map as Kamo. It is about 3| miles distant from Whangarei, and is connected with that place by the Great North

Road. The locality is rich in coal, and the principal place of interest is the Kamo Colliery.

Whangarei offers great inducements to the tourist, and it is a pity that the place is not better advertised. The stalactic Abbey Caves and the Whangarei Falls are among the • Lions ’of the North. Mine host had kindly offered to show me these, and accordingly after breakfast next morning we drove out. After about an hour’s easy driving the noise of rushing water apprised us of our proximity to the Falls, and on the near side of a bridge which crosses the creek, Mr Hutchins puller! up and unharnessed and tethered the horse. A narrow foot path lay through tall ti - tree, and along this we proceeded until it abruptly ended on the edge of a fearful-looking precipice. A splendid view of the top of the Falls was obtained from this vantage spot, and I must confess that the estimation in which I held the Nihitapu Falls, as an Aucklander, was largely discounted by it. In three separate columns the water falls with an almost deafening roar for about 115 feet, ami leaping over huge, boulders, runs in a silvery, bubbling track till it is lost to sight in the heavy green foliage of the gully below. The construction of the masonry—for such I must call it—of the walls of the fall is beautiful, and certainly the most curious of anything of the kind, I have ever seen. It resembles in appearance the broken pillars of some ancient Eastern temple. The whole of the sides and the head of the cleft are composed of perfectly rounded columns, some of a dark reddish and others of a slatish colour. The tops of many are broken off, and the pieces lie strewn about in the clear pool of water beneath. The circumference of each of these pillars is, I should say, about twelve feet, and in the crevices between them grow the greenest of ferns and grasses. To reach the foot of the falls we had to retreat along the path a little way, and scramble in a down stream direction over some very rough

and stony ground. When the flat was reached and w looked up at the descending waters we felt repaid a thousand times for any little trouble we had had. If the falls viewed from the top appeared beautiful before, they looked transcendently lovely now as we stood at the bottom. Spray was falling in a ceaseless shower upon the upper end and margin of the pool, and the eddying breeze catching some of this wafted it first on the one and then on the other of the verdant hanks. Among the ferns growing all about in wild profusion were the most delicate and pronounced shades of colour, a pretty contrast, indeed, to the stately and grim looking columns of stone. The ground upon which we stood was as level and as green as a lawn, and was partly covered with wild blackberry plants. From these we picked sufficient of the fruit to allay our desire for them, and after taking a longing farewell look at the Falls, crossed the stream at the ford, ami made our way to the Caves. A guide was necessary here, and through the weird subterranean region we were led. Dark precipices, looking Satanically ugly in the flickering light of our candles, yawned at our feet, ami made one shudder at the bare thought of a slip. The beauty of the caves with their thousands of glittering pendantsand fanciful pillars was revealed by igniting a magnesium wire. Whilst the wire burned our guide showed us with pardonable pride ‘theorganof thecaves. ’ This beautiful stone, not unlike the pipe organ in design, gives forth various sounds on being struck in different places of the ‘keyboard.’ That many persons cannot view such marvellous works of nature without chipping and spoiling is a fact to be deplored. Some of the most fantastic stalactites have been ruthlessly broken by these Vandals, whilst the organ is almost ruinously chipped on the pipes and keyboard. < Hi ! for the whip of scorpions that

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