THE GRAND OLD MAN OF THE SOUTH.

Hokitika Guardian, 30 March 1927, Page 4

THE GRAND OLD MAN OF THE SOUTH.

MR S. FIDDIAN CELEBRATES HIS | 90th BIRTHDAY. (Contributed.) There was quite a festive little gathering of friends at the home of Air and Mrs Bob Thompson, at the Alanakaiau River, near Bruce Bay. on Friday, .March 18th, to celebrate the 90th birthday of Airs Thompson’s uncle, that “ Grand Old Alan or the South,” .Mr Sam Fiddian. < t i s..i- 1.1,, ‘jirl*

Curiously enough lie spoilt his 30tli birthday at Big Bay. just within tnc boundary of the province, so that lie has now completed sixty years’ continuous residence in Westland. He was born at Lye in the county of Worcestershire, England, on March 18th, 1837—the year of the accession ol Queen Victoria. He served his time in England in Llie building trade, and when twenty years old. left the Old ( ountry by himself with the sum of 39s in his pocket, to come uiiL to Australia where lie had an aunt living at Geelong. Alost of that 30s was spent in supplies for the voyage and the enterprising young emigrant landed at Alelbournc with the sum of 4s (Id in his possession. All this he had to pay for his steamer fare up to Geelong, and when a dray arrived with Ids kit of carpenter’s tools, he had to borrow from his aunt to pay the driver! For some years he foli’owed the gold rushes round the Australian diggings —visited Ballarat and Bendigo and many another place famous in those days, with varying luck. On one occasion. when returning more or less ‘ broke ’ from the Ovens district, he put up for the night at a country hotel, well-kept and pleasantly furnished. In the middle of the night lie was awakened by a .tremendous row. which turned out to he caused by a i’ittlc argument between the publican and Ins wife. Chairs and pieces of furniture whizzed and crashed about, and as the battle seemed to ho approaching his door, tlic young traveller, who was anxious to remain neutral, fled out of the window and slept the rest of the night between two haystacks! After spending four years in A ictoria. Air Fiddian set sail for New Zealand, attracted by the stories of the Otago goldfields. In October. 18(31. ne came to Gabriel’s Gully, but had no i’ll ok at the diggings. For one thing the weather was most discouraging. There were eight weeks of continuous rain, so that the hay. which had been put lip in cocks, became covered with a luxuriant growth of young grass about three inches long!

AYith a mate he then took to pitsawing, which proved much more remunerative than mining, as pay was at the rate of Is !!d nor superficial foot for boards Uin. x j'in. In three months lie had saved It7o. From the goldfields he went in Invercargill. where he pursued his trade as a builder, erecting several buildings, including a hay and (urn More and a public house.

About that lime a railway was started under the direction of a contractor, named Davis, to run out to the sawniii'.ing country at AYiiiton’s Bush. The rails were of wood—eight inches square—often of white pine, and as soon as they began to be used, devolopi'iied some wonderful splinters, often sticking no as much as two feet in the air. Also, in wet weather, the rails hi'came so slippery that the engine wheels couldn’t grip and the train came to a staiulstll. On one famous occasion—the opening of the McCarroway Bridge—a gieat crowd of residents. arrayed in their best, journeyed out in open trucks to witness the cereliouy. But, alas! rain descended in torrents, as the return journey was begun. The engine was stoked up and clouds of smoke and showers of sparks descended on the huddled humanity hi the trucks. The wheels whizzed, hut would do nothing but slip! So, after a prolonged ordeal by fire and water there was nothing for it but to face tin' dreary wade home through seven or eight miles of mod and slush. And such mini! It was no uncommon thing for the journey of seven or eight miles to AYnllaoevilli' to take a liaifi'oaded dray draw n by double teams of

horses, seven or eight days to accomplish. However, if the railway wasn’t always an unqualified success, the eluting of ihe wooden rails was certainly a proUkible occupation for a young and energetic sawyer, and Mr Fiddian continued to make money until the railway work stopped. The stoppage was due to the fact that though the local Provincial Government had raised

loans to pay tlio railway contractor, the New Zealand Government, with its •seat then ;it. Auckland, refused to sanction the loans! The creditors hnilt a fence across the railway line, held np the train and put bailiffs in possession of it. It was about this time that the Provincial Government called tenders for the erection of a new pa of. Nobody tendered, since it was well known that the Government had no money wherewith to pay for the works. The consequence was That all the prisoners with a sentence of le,ss than three months had to he released for lack of accommodation. ■After that .Mr Fiddian turned to the diggings again— spent two years at the Xokomai working a claim called the \ ietoria, which cost a lot in money and hard work and paid very little in return. That claim is chiefly memorable for the narrow escape from death which those working it had. Tlie.v had put down an open paddock (they didn’t shirk work in those days) to a depth cl oOlt. Iho lower 2f)ft was timbered with logs. T lie men had just conic up lor their lunch one day during a thaw "lien the whole of the upper sides fell "• burying everything—pump, tools, tnd all equipment, up to the 20ft nark.

■Alter that came various mining vonim\s with varying luck—none of it pecially good. I hero was an expedition to the I teach diggings at Orepuki, near Riverton, hut it brought no success. By this time the West Coast was beginning to call to miners. So. "ith eleven others Mr Kiddiau bought a whaleboat, 28ft long and 10ft wide at its widest. It had been built on Lake Waiola, near Dunedin, to carry firewood, and was an excellent seab'Jat as it bad need to lie), but very heavy to pull. In this small craft the party of twelve cheerfully set out from the Bi'uff with the intention of rowing round the south of New Zealand and prospecting Preservation Inlet. They had a good supply of provisions, including llOOlbsof flour. But they had hardly got started when a wild northerly storm came up. They couldn’t get hack against it to the mainland, so had to run towards Stewart Isi’and. Darkness came on as they neared the vicinity of Smoky Cove. The storm rose continually and seas wore breaking over the stern. One was kept continually bailing with a tin dish. An old Shetland Islander, as look-out in the bow. cheered them up (?) by reciting most dramatically : “ O pilot! ’tis a fearful’ night. There’s danger in the deep!” This was interrupted by his cry that they were among the rocks, and above the raging of the storm came the mocking laughter of the gull overhead. With wild energy, two men to an oar, the rowers fought to keep their frail craft out of the spouting breakers. Suddenly in the darkness, they felt themselves lifted into smooth water. The tide had carried them into Horse-

shoe Bay (next to Port William) and it presently stranded them on a shingly beach. Stiff and exhausted and almost perished with cold, they dragged themselves up to shelter. lit a fire and revived themselves with draughts of painkiller hot. After being weather-hound there, in company with two sailing vessels, for three weeks, they set out again on their adventurous journey. One night when they were in the open sea heading westward, a shape suddenly loomed out of the darkness. It proved to he a sailing ship, and when shouts ol warning got no response, they fired a gun twice, and just managed to slip under the ship’s stern amid the anathemas of a very much startled skipper, who had thought there was no one within a hundred miles of him. When Puysegar Point was reached adverse weather was again encountered and after fighting strenuous hut losing battles to get round, the little boat had to make hack into Chalky Inlet, whore it was weather-bound for seven or eight days. By this time the travel tors had gleaned news from other vessels of the gold-rush to the Ilanst Beach, so they determined to make that their objective. At the third attempt they got round Puysegar Point inio Dusky Sound. The voyage after that developed into a series ol battles to get round the headlands from one sound to the next; and so the little boat worked her laborious way north. Whenever meat ran short, some of the party would land with a gun and a dog (who was also a passenger by the boat), and get a good supplies of birds which were very pi'entiful. There was also an abundance of iish. From Alilforil .Sound they came to Big Bay (on Mr Fiihliau’s 30th birthday), then on to Jackson's Bay and arrived the following day oil' the mouth of the Ilanst River. Their troubles were, however, not yet ended, as a storm was coming up and the harbour master (Captain Turnbull) hoisted the danger signal and wouldn’t: let tlic* boat. in. So they’ll to run north for shelter to Aruott’s Point. Next morning, when daylight came, they coin'd see live diggers at work on the Little River beach, and with the cheery hope that these men would lend a hand if they should get upset in the surf, they turned the boat's head shorewnrds and made for the sand. However, they were saved the hazard of a beach landing by discovering the mouth of the Little River, into which they made a -ncresstul entry. Thus ended an adve.uturous cruise of eight weeks in an open boat, round one of New Zealand’s wildest coasts; and thus did Mr Sam Fiddian come to Westland. The story thoncolnrward is one of up- and downs of lock <>n the beaches —of adventures iniioimrahli' in the bush and at the mouths of the rivers. Nothing came amiss to the enterprising digger: lie made a L'l’d cheque cutting ;i fivc-fom track ii]) the north hank of the llaast River. With three mates he struck payable gui'd near the Arawata, south of the llaast. Ho nearly starved ; lie prospected through rough hush and broken country ; he crossed the rivers at their mouths on logs and rafts, lie crossed the great llaast—the king of all the rivers of Westland—in a baker's tub to which hi' had fixed an outrigger! Coming north, when the lower beaches were; deserted, with his mates, cariving about a pound weight of gold each, he would have starved if it hadn’t been for the discovery o' .some Hour tliatj they swept up from the ruined floor of a deserted store. Needless to say the rats had thoroughly picked it ovc;, !

and a hungry surveyin' who begged a slice from a loaf of blend made of it. thought himself poisoned entirely when he discovered some of the souvenirs the rats had left! It was a long and adventurous journey on foot up to llniee Bay, but the party got through successfully. Mr Fiddian went on the few milt's further to Hunt’s Beach, where he had a fair amount of success with the surface gold. After the .surfacing worked out, two mates joined him in cutting a water-race, constructing a waterwheel and fluming to bring in water raised ten feet from the river. The

success of the performance greatly impressed the Maoris, of whom there were a number living on and near the lionch. “Ah Tutu! (for so they railed him). Him the feller! Ho makes the water run uphill ! ” The claim proved a good and faithful one and paid its miners C'l a day for three years. At the end of that time Air Fiddian bought out Mr Tims.

Ward from the Hunt’s Bench Store and Accommodation House. Mr Ward had joined Mr ( has. Douglas in taking up land at f’aringa and bringing down a few sheep and cattle to run on it.

; Mr Fiddian had become greatly rc--1 speeted among both the diggers and the Maoris and exercised an immense influence for good. When disputes or disagreement arose, he was constantly appealed to as an arbitrator. And there was never any appeal' from his judgments; his wisdom and absolute integrity were so proverbial. lint his business venture of necessity went aground through circumstances over which he had no control. Hi- had bought in on a falling fide. Freights were enormous (CTO a too from Hokitika by sea!) and the population decreasing. When the claims worked out, the miners went away—leaving their debts behind them. It is characteristic of the mail that Mr Fiddian shouldered all these debts himself, never passing them on to those from whom ho bought. Though it took him eighteen months of incessant work to “get i’ovel with the hank,” he never rested until lie was clear. And then all the diggers had gone and ho was left alone on the beach, lie made a living by running a few cattle in the hush, and, as soon he was able to get a title (with the advent to power of the late Hon. R. .T. Scddon) he took up 200 acres of land on tlie Manakaiau River, and a further 10 acres on the beach. “ I have it.” he explained, | “ on a 090 years’ lease, with the right 1 of renewal—hut I’ll not trouble.” he : adds, with a twinkle, “ about tho re- j newal.” I I let ween twenty and thirty years 1 ago. his life was despaired of. That j was the occasion of the Rev. H. K. 1 Newton’s famous ride south through j the unbridged rivers at the height of j j a record flood, carrying the medicine I and instruments hv which his life was! saved. "

Mr I'iddian has always been famous for his hospitality. There was never a man so poor, or so disreputable, or so much of an outcast, that he woui'dn’t take him in and share with him whatever he had. Many and many a down ami out digger has lived to liless the name—ami the kind heart.—of Sam Fiddian.

And there he lives now l>v the side of the little Manakaiau River, two or three miles north of Bruce Bay. J;le lias his devoted niece and her husband to care for him an he has the interest of watching his grand-nephews ami -nieces grow up round him. Despite his great age. he is surprisingly hale and hearty. He is a little hard of hearing and not quite so active as he used to he, hut he is wonderfully ai'ert. and his memory is marvellous.

“Despite the hard life I've had,” he will tel! you on his 90th birthday,

“ and all the trials and vicissitudes I’ve been through, do you know, I fell stronger to-day than-I did the day I was horn!” May he be able to say the same thing with the same twinkle in another