Sketcher.

Southern Cross, Volume 2, Issue 12, 23 June 1894, Page 6

Sketcher.

THE CRUISE OF THE HINEMOA. A BLOW AT THE SNARES ; We, of the good ship Hinemoa, are at anchor on the S.E. side of the main island in a little bay, perhaps threequarters of a, mile wide, of horseshoe shape. Off both headlands of the bay there stand grim sentries in the shape of rocks rising from 50ft; to 150 ft. above water. The shores of the bay itself run up to 600 ft. —-at one part almost perpendicularly ; and at; the best of declivity so steep as to require all the coolness and agility of a goat or chamois to climb, much less descend. The surface is sparsely clad with vegetation—scrub or coarse herbage. The sun —it is 10.30 a.m*—is shining wintrily upon the scene. Light clouds flit across his face. The wind is from the N.W., and we are supposed to be comfortably “ under the lee ” of the land. Well, so we are. to some extent, but the island- is small and a proper “nor’wester” seems to find its way into every nook and corner. See how it swirls round that point to the right and cuts off the tops of the breakers, sending them aloft as. “ spendrift ” to career across the little bay, and make innumerable fragments of rainbow as the blinding spray drives along. There, down a gully comes a drift of mist and spray -—one could imagine the coast to be perforated with tunnels, and Boreas plying his bellows on the other side. On deck the crew are working in the least -exposed spots they can find; passengers ascend the bridge, firmly gripping their hats, and after a more or less comprehensive glance descend to the warmer depths below. The only really comfortable-looking bipeds are the winged ones the Cape pigeons and other sea-birds that hover around the steamer in delighted anticipation of some (to them) rare delicacy. How easily and beautifully they poise themselves ; j how gracefully they yield for a moment to the rough impulse of the wind, only to recover lost ground, and with an upward incline make their way right in the wind’s eye. The sea is not high—the waves are ; literally pressed down by the wind. Besides, we are in deep water—some 40 fathoms—and with the wind off the ; land. How long shall we have to try to practise the virtue of patience ? Neptune may know, but not the most weather-beaten of our ship’s company. But the glass is fairly high, and, if anything, on the rise, so we hope and —-Jistep for the dinner-bell.

U I C K WORK. It will be readily understood that when anchored or merely “brought to ” off some of the more conspicuous headlands upon which it is desired to place guide-posts, or indeed at any time except when work such as the building of a permanent depot is in hand, there is a strong desire on the part of the captain to “ move on ” as soon as possible. This is shared by the crew who perform their part of what is a most difficult and dangerous service with a will. And let it be said here that stout hearts, steady nerves, strong and supple limbs, keen sight, and good judgment are qualities without which serious accidents, instead of being rare, would be of everyday occurrence. For the finger-posts need to be planted as a rule in exposed positions —where most likely to catch the eye of a drifting boat’s crew or passing ship in distress. The exceptions are at the head of the few inlets at which there are neither shelter huts, boat sheds, nor proviso n depots. The mode of procedure is describable in a few sentences : The steamer is brought as close to the shore as prudence, assisted by constant soundings, may dictate. A boat is lowered, fingerposts, crowbar, axe and shovels handed in, three or four men follow a« best they may, watching their chance as the boat rises on the top of

a wave, or steamer and boat subside, at the same moment into the trough of one. Strength and dexterity are required to keep; the frail craft from dashing against the steamer’s side, and getting “ stove in” before the Order to “ shove off ”is given. “ All ready ?” % Ay, ay, sir!” and away swings the boat, slowly gathering way as the sturdy oarsmen bend to their work. Her objective point is, generally speaking, a boulder beach or a ragged and jagged rock wall, against which at one moment the sea laps gently and the next dashes with such force as to send the spray 30ft. or 40ft. high, even in comparatively fine weather. The steersman has to watch for an opportunity of heading his boat to a likely point for the shore party to leap off and on to the rocks —or into the water, as the case may be. They must shift for themselves for those in the boat have to back off might and main before the next “ roller ” comes iii with a crash that, if the bdat were to get broadside on, would make match wood of, her in less time than it would take to tell it. It is perhaps worth noting here that in most situations on the east coast of the islands a profuse growth of kelp extends some distance out from the shore, and forms a kind of buffer between boats and the rock, besides;tending to break the force of incoming waves. No sooner have the men scrambled ashore than they are seen to be busily engaged in forming a station for the guide post they have brought—not always an easy matter, for the coast line is often bare rock. Their task accomplished, the boat is again pulled in, the tools tossed aboard, and the men leaping in at a venture, and away •he goes to the steamer. Twenty minutes from the time of giving the order to “ lower away,” till the hands were back on board, boat hoisted, and the signal passed to “ go ahead,” is said to be the “record ” up to date. This, it will be admitted, is pretty quick work, but the celerity with which building operations are conducted more than matches it. One instance will suffice. A boatshed some 20 x 10ft. had to be erected on Rose Island. The timber cut to the required lengths, the galvanised iron, nails, paint, <fec,, are all ready on deck. At 10 a.m. the order is given to lower away and load boats with the material. By 10.30 it is landed and the heavy ground plates in position. By 12.30 the shed has been roofed, the sides enclosed (with galvanised iron) floor laid, and the finishing strokes of the paint-brush applied. White is always used for the final coat as being the most readily distinguishable colour. The boat shed in question will serve very well on a pinch as a dwelling, being, if a little draughty, perfectly weather proof. In it for the present is stowed the punt or scow in which the survivors from the Derry Castle succeeded in reaching Port Ross from Enderby Island —a primitive looking affair —“a thing of shreds and patches,” but on which the poor fellows, destitute of tools, and with only stones for hammers, must have spent a world of pains. It is still serviceable, and will no doubt some day be brought to the mainland as a curiosity in marine architecture.