South Westland Dangers.

Hokitika Guardian, 2 September 1922, Page 1

South Westland Dangers.

THE CHAMPION RAFTER OF THE BIG WANGANUI RIVER. (A true story its told by the late John Wilaeys now written by his nephew, B. De Bakker.) Many years ago totara was declared a Government timber, being in great demand for wharves and bridges. Lnfontain, myself, and two others formed a partnership to work some of the belts of totara we knew existed up the Big Wanganui River. The late Peter Hende, who was the fenjyman at the mouth of the Big Wanganui river, (the South road being then not fully completed) on a team of horses packed our swags, tents and tools down from Ross, to a point on the ba.uk of what was then an unnamed creek, (now called after my mate/, Lafontaine’s creek), where we camped.

Our plan was to square the logs, make them into small rafts, for easy transport down the river, and at the tide line form all into larger rafts to he towed away to civilisation, and one morning the little tug boat callle t° the mouth of the river, and took our first raft along to Hokitika. No doubt there are many old Hokitika people who remember the Waiparn landing the raft at the end of the wharf. The cost for towage wns £3OO per raft, so after delivering the second raft, the party was broken up, as the industry did not pay. Me had at the start engaged several Wages men to square the timber, among ethers, Richard Hftrcus (Dither o rough diamond of a man) known up and down the const ns “Dick the Angel,” who was a Tasmanian native. After the second night in camp, we at once came to the conclusion that lie was tho oracle of the party; after the second week he had proved himself the finest axeman of the party. And when Lafontaine, after a month’s squaring asked for a volunteer to take tho first raft down the river some six miles to the mouth, it was Dick who stepped oil hoard, satig out “Let her go,” and was in « few minutes lost to sight. At evening he returned to camp and gave us an account of hi s trip, in such vigorous language that. T refrain to put its terseness in this translation. Though soine of us did take a raft or two down the river, Dick was so far ufiead of us in river-ersift, so fearless and bold, that the lion’s share of rafting fell to

After we had about ludf the timber for the first raft down to the seashore I was called to Ross on business. Lafoiituine said to mo as I Was leaving the camp: I will make tile timber we had got delivered on the road crossing into a boat, and /is it will take me to throe o’clock, if *you come back by the south road John, you will have an easy trip home, down th e river in the new boat. This I knew would lie much better than walking along the heavy beach sand, so I said to him I will he at the crossing at three o’clock (now called Mende’s Ferry), on Saturday. At four o’clock on Saturday morning with my dinner strapped to my belt, I left home at Ross on foot, and after fording the Mikonui river and the two Wnitaha’s (there were no bridges in those days) 1 came to the Big Wanganui well inside the time agreed on, as near as I could judge, about two o’clock, only to find the timber used up, and the boat gone, (I afterwards found out the boat- left at one o’clock), and like Burke and Wills I stood on the river hank deserted in the wildne/riiess, the nearest house some eight miles hack at Duffer’s Creek.

After a rest, and summing up the position, I came to the conclusion that rather than go hack, I would ford the river and make my way down its southern bank to our camp. I had been told about five miles. I stripped, and tying my clothes in a tight bundle (I forget to say before doing this I had gone down the river some distance to where it divided into several branches) I began to ford and after crossing several stiff branches I came to a line of native flax, and thinking I was across the river I dressed and after going through tlie llax came into an open paddock. So confident was I. that 1 was across the river that T began to think of a hot tea if I made camp that night, a ho]>e however, that was soon shattered, for after going through another harrier of flax I came to another stream of the river, I could then see that the paddock had been cleared on an island in the river, (this paddock like many otheir river bed clearings has long since been washed away).

However, to make tlie best of a had job I again stripped, tying my clothes in a bundle I once more began to ford; after reaching within thirty feet of the southern shore I came to a deep gut that at tlie first step put

the water up to my armpits, I could see at once that it meant swimming the very next step The fear of wetting all my clothes, as 1 would have to swim with only one hand, and hang on to my bundle with the other, made me hesitate, and the man that hesitates is lost. Bitterly did I repent afterwards that I had not swam the remaining distance of that ford, I retui'ned to the island and as by this time it was almost dark. I dressed again and beneath a couple of flax hushes and a Scrubby totara, crawled into shelter resolvihg after having ft sleep, in the mprning daylight to pick out a better ford and cross this remaining branch Alas, for my proposals, that night about twelvo o'clock I was awakened out of a sound sleep to feel myself getting sprinkled with rain, and indeed outside of my shelter it was pouring steadily, and as morning broke it was still steadily raining and I could see hy the leaves and sticks that began to float on the riv«r, that it had risen about a foot, I again deliberated whether to swim it, even at this stage, but abandoned the idea when T saw how much swifter the rain had made the river. The rain still continued all day and all the next night and the river kept rising, until I wondered it did not come over the island, as it was level with the water. i

Towards morning of the second night it cleared up, but the river still all day continued to run full, hut at evening it began to lower and show its banks though its waters were _ thick as |>en soup with slushy sediment. Strange to say, T was not hungry, the fact of being trapped like this, and tlie thought that I might he held up till I perished with cojd, seemed to cause a worry that drove away all appetite. That night (the third one) it froze and my damp clothes stiffened on my body. I was forced to walk up and down to keep circulation, and at daylight I had tramped quite a track in the soft soil. If T went to lie down

I began to shiver. Just as the sun rose I began to gather flax dailies for the purpose or making a raft of them. T had heard of the Maoris using flax stick rafts to cross rivers. In about an hour I had gathered quite a stack. 1 then began to tie them in bundles, taking care to secure each bundle in three or four places with green flax. T then cut two green sticks about, ten feet long, and after sharpening the sticks 1 counted twenty-two bundles. After threading eleven bundles on eaeb stick I bumped tlie ends of tbe cladie bundles on eaeli stick together as they lay on the ground, two more sticks run across the ends, and then numerous lashings of green flax completed mv little raft. J then cut a stick to act as an oar or a pole. 1 had built tlie raft dose to some water, a dead end ol the river.

Pushing the raft into the water I got on it to try it, and found it carried me nicely, but as T knelt on it’s surface, it bent slightly up, a little water wetting my knees. I then boldly pushed out into the river and soon was leaving .my prison island far behind. T had observed the wipe! before, starting and found that it was in my favour, i namely to blow me towards the south bank. I now began to enjoy the ride when suddenly with a swoop my little raft had gone over a hurdle in the liver, some buried stone or snag. I was thankful my craft had not thrown me off, or what would he worse got ripped to pieces. As I journeyed onward, the stream I was on met the main river which was now a mighty sheet of water, and as" I looked ahead at last, “blessed sight,” T could see the smoke curling up through the trees of our camp, but still a long way off. As I sat still and floated onward the thought came to me that it would be better to land as soon as possible, not such an easy thing to do as the river now bad a steep bank. As 1 looked ahead, banging in the water was a, little sapling. I resolved for this to be my chance to ]and. A few strokes of my improvised paddle, so as to pass directly under the branches. I remember the tension of the first fifty yards, then thirty, next ten, and T braced myself and grabbed the branches of a green young tree. Tu a second of time my little raft was whisked from under me, my sudden weight on the green sapling, that grew into the bank, causing it to bend so much that I clipped right under, and my bat was gone, but T hung tight, the current pushing me against the bank as the tree swung onwards, up which with the aid of a friendly root T climbed, once more on dry land.

After squeezing the water out of my elotlies anti elevating my feet to pour some of the water out of my boots. \ rested a little while, wonderfully glad to have escaped the cruel river. True, I had yet to swim La Fontaine creek, hut what did that matter. 1 had now come to the conclusion never again to hesitate to swim. T then wandered on and before long came to the said creek, and after picking out a good landing on the off side, boldly plunged in and swam across in a few strokes. A feu minutes more and 1 arrived at the huts, and gave Yankee George, a A alike© start, for I was shining wet hatless, hair bedraggled and tired looking. It was George’s turn to cook the dinner that day and he soon served me with some hot pigeon broth. After eating a little 1 tumbled into bed and was soon off to sleep “Dick the angel,” as usual, was down the river that day with another small raft, hut came home about tea time. Some of the others must have told him of m.V adventures, because lie came over to me as T sat at the eveninn meal, and shook hands and said—- “ John, I take off my hat to you. you are indeed the champion rafter of t'-e Wanganui.” It is true I ol.en ro.f per on solid logs, hut you have rafted '•or on a few bundle of ibis s icks. hut -mind von have had a close shave. John’s reply—“ Hick, 1 know it, rafting down the river was my only chance.” B.P.T?