DANCERS STRANDED

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 813, 6 November 1929, Page 11

DANCERS STRANDED

BOAT WHICH FAILED TO ARRIVE “WHAT WILL FATHER SAY?” The night was dark and stormy, but the 50 couples who had danced until 1 a.m. didn’t mind that. What they were more concerned about was that they were stranded on Bayswater Wharf, with only the slenderest likelihood of reaching the City that night, or more strictly, this morning. The trouble was that on the invitations there had appeared the assurance in black and white, “Boat will leave for the City at 1 a.m.”, but there was no vestige of a boat, that is, one that was of any use. True, a ferry lay at the quay, and all had tumbled aboard. They waited five minutes . . . ten . . . but nothing happened. The doleful understanding was then borne upon everybody that the ship was there for the night, and so probably were the guests of the Takapuna Boating Club. The watchman on board, was very sorry, but he knew nothing about a special boat. In any case he couldn’t very well work it himself. That being that, everybody waited, having made himself at home in the glowing and sheltered cabins. It was a touching scene. As 1.30 struck the gi,rls could no longer conceal that What-will-father-say?” look. Their hair unmarcelled in the gale, their wraps drawn more closely, they gazed at the rolling - tide and wondered. In the meantime officials of the Boating Club had not been inactive. They were quite sure a launch had been ordered. Telephone calls to the City were unable to raise the boatman. Everyone was muttering to himself sotto voce. Then the commodore, Mr. J. J. Maclcay, had an idea. His own launch! She was large and safe, and —but he had no licence to carry passengers other than guests for a holiday cruise. Out on the sullen tide the Hanene strained at her moorings. He would make the attempt. To put himself on side with the powers that be, Mr. Mackay got into earnest communication with the wharf police. Would they send a man down to see that everything was all right when the Hanene arrived at Auckland? Well, they quite appreciated the position . . . yes, they got him . . . very awkward . . . sorry, but couldn’t guarantee that nothing would come of it. At all events, the club couldn’t see its guests in a fix. The Hanene was manned, and the entire 100 dancers accommodated aboard. Mr. Mackay, in dress shirt, his coat left in the clubhouse, shoes removed, and trousers tucked to the knee, made an unconventional yet none the less efficient seaman. Only three-quarters of an hour late, the company landed on the city side, good-humoured and appreciative of the prompt and novel solution of a delicate problem, which had its origin in the forgetfulness of the launchman. He admitted it this morning.