ARRIVAL OF THE BATTLESHIP.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XXXV, Issue 1086, 15 April 1913, Page 4

ARRIVAL OF THE BATTLESHIP.

A STATELY ENTRY

Wellington, Saturday

After her long voyage half-way round the world His Majesty’s battle cruiser New Zealand dropped anchor in Wellington harbour on Saturday afternoon. Many warships of the King’s navy have done the same thing belore quietly and without evoking anything more than passing curious glances from passers-by. on shore. But Saturday the case was different. It was “an event.” There was a sense of proprietorship deep in the minds oi the beholders of the stranger. All looked upon her with a real personal interest. She was “Our Dreadnought.” Elaborate preparations had been made to ensure a fitting welcome for the battleship. The entry into what may be termed her home waters, even for a brief space, of H.M.S. New Zealand could not be allowed to go unnoticed. By mid-day people began to flock towards the wharves to board the various vessels proceeding down the harbour to take part in the marine procession. Others repaired to vantage points along the harbour front on hills commanding views of the entrance and down along the shore by Seatoun and Worser Bay. By 1.15 p.m. between twenty and thirty steamers and ferry boats had assembled off Seatoun. A strong wind was blowing, and the sky was heavily overcast, while a haze lay upon the water. Now and again the sun struggled through the clouds, but the vaporous mass quickly closed up again and shut out the brightness. AT THE HEADS. Punctually, as befitting a well-, ordered ship of war, the New Zealand appeared groping her way through the Heads. At first, she seemed little more than a huge black smudge moving through the haze, an unclean thing on the white flecked waters. As she drew nearer and the huge bulk of her could be studied, the eye glancing at the waiting flotilla of ships of peaceful endeavour and back again at the grey hull now abeam, conveyed , some idea of what a first-class battleship really is. WIDE EVED WATCHFULNESS. When the people on the waiting ships realised at last that the visitor was really with them there were some attempts at cheering, but the strong wind stifled these outbursts of sound almost in the throats of the cheerers. Finding vocal dis plays of their feelings out of order, they settled down to wide-eyed watchfulness. Somewhere off Karaka Bay the little Janie Seddon lay ahead. On her was the marshall directing the manoeuvres of the escorting fleet. Suddenly one saw the semaphore at work. As the warship signal fluttered up to the crossyard and down again, a weird shriek came from the waiship’s siren and was answered from other cratt. More flags moved up and the warship, which had been steaming slowly, seemed to dart forward suddenly, as if a huge hand beneath the water had given her a giant pushu MONSTER AND MIDGETS. The other vessels fell into something like order. The starboard were the Tutanekai, Cobar, Mararoa and smaller craft. To port were the Hinemoa, Amokura, Duchess, Stormbird and other ferry and coastal steamers. There seemed something specially appropriate in the presence of the Stormbird, the oldest steamer trading in Australasian or any other waters, a pioneer of a new order of things as effecting the British Empire navy. On the Stormbird a band blared forth, though what it played could not be distinguished half a dozen ships’ lengths away. Abreast of Point Jerningham the procession was joined by motor boats and yachts, the latter indeed lending a more naturally life-like air to the scene.

The wind was stiff, and the sea lumpy, so that little craft had a lively time. On opening out into the harbour proper, whence the city came into clearer view, clustered on the flat and on height above height, the battleship, still feeling her way along with the leadline, for seemingly it is one of the ways they have in the navy to take nothing for granted but to find out for themselves, turned in toward the Man-o’-war buoy, and the procession closed up.

LIKE a GREY SEA WOLE . When the New Zealand had come up with the wajtipg ships down the harbour and steamed past them, she looked indeed like

a grey sea wolf from the Northern lands hardly deigning more than the barest of recognition. As she moved in toward her moorings and a full stern view of her was obtained, she looked, for all the world, like an old grey duck squattering through the water with a hybrid brood scattered about in her wake. Occasionally a rift shewed itself through the clouds, and bars of sunlight streamed down on the dull hull, an occasional glint flashing out as some highly polished metal (such as the caps on the big guns) was touched by the rays.. Then the white Government steamers, the green and black ships ot trade, and the white winged yachts and restless motor boats were in turn touched by the brightness. HUGE ANCHORS DROPPED. The scene was now more animated, and lull of interest. More signalling from the warship marked her near approach to the buoy. Then came a shrill blast from her siren as two huge anchors plunged from her bows, and then a period of silence followed while the escorting ships marked time, so to speak. Would the anchors hold? A spreading patch of muddy water appeared around the battleship, and it was seen her way was stopped. The anchors held, and presently the ship began to swing round to the wind. The ferry stedmer Duchess, carrying a large crowd of Navy League children with a band, got up to windward, and the children sang patriotic songs of welcome. The warship’s band responded, a trumpet brayed, and then silence fell again. H.M.S. New Zealand had come home. Some of the escorting vessels circled about the big ship to give their passengers a nearer view of the huge floating fort, with its great 12-inch guns peering out of the barbettes, each a picture of innocence, behind the dazzling muzzle cap. Occasional cheers were exchanged between the warship and the passing craft, while here and there the crowds lining the different wharves took up the cry spasmodically.

FINAL CEREMONIES. Then gradually the spectators after gazing long and curiously at this youngest of evidences of the might of Britain—contributed by the youngest Britain of them all—made their way homeward, A few gathered at the man-o’-war steps to see Captain Halsey land as he went to pay an official visit to the Governor. A little later His Excellency returned the visit, and shortly afterwards the booming guns announced that the King’s representative had left the ship. The Janie Seddon ferried a Ministerial party out. After that, civic and Harbour Board representatives paid official calls on Captain Halsey, and Wellington's formal welcome was over.

There were no speeches at these visits.