ATTEMPT TO BLOW UP THE ELI WHITNEY.

Globe, Volume IX, Issue 1227, 8 February 1878, Page 2

ATTEMPT TO BLOW UP THE ELI WHITNEY.

The following amusing description of the first attempt to blow np the hnlk Eli Whitney, sank in Wellington harbor, is given by the “ Post ” The announcement that tho sunken hulk Eli Whitney would be blown np by Mr Coleridge, C.E., with dynamite, at half-past tour yesterday afternoon, attracted crowds of spectators to the wharf and breastwork. These long-suffering and muchenduring people waited with exemplary patience from the hour named until nearly 7 p.m,, or about two hours and a half, keeping their eyes anxiously fixed on the spot, whence a mighty column of water was expected to issue with a terrific roar. There were many conjectures ns to whether it was quite safe to stand near the buildings on Customhouse Quay, and one gentleman, the proprietor of a large and hai dsome store some distance hack in Brandon street, rushed with a careworn countenance to order all the windows to be opened lest the fearful concussion should shatter them. Dismal forebodings were uttered as to the fate of the' wharf and shipping, and tho operators, who were oh board another hulk, were gazed at with deep and solemn interest as predestined victims. The possibility of a vast wave being thrown up and submerging the city was discussed with much earnestness, and some regrets were expressed for the probable destruction of Messrs Turnbull and Co.’s new brick warehouses. Some of a more practical and material turn of mind remarked that there would be ” a jolly lot of fish killed, suppose we go out in a boat and got some ?” And so several boats were prepared surreptitiously, in readiness to secure the anticipated finny haul. Time wore on and weariness grew, and yet no explosion. At length a very grubby flag, in squares of black (very) and white (by courtesy), like a flabby chessboard, was mu up, and expectation, which had become languid, suddenly rose to extreme height. A pause—then a faint pop like the opening of a rather weak bottle of ginger-beer, and tne mast of the sunken hulk made a slight bow to the multitude of spectators as if in derision of their disappointed hopes and fears. And that was all! With " curses, not loud but deep," the crowd speedily dispersed to their cold dinners and lukewarm tea, with tremendous vows that they would never wait to sec another blowing np—“ no, never no more."