FIFTY YEARS A SAILOR

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LV, Issue 172, 7 December 1912, Page 2 (Supplement)

FIFTY YEARS A SAILOR

A STuliY ',)!.' Till'; HAST COAST. (By Colonel I Miter, C.8., T.U.) "Archibald Duncan: His Hook, 1.52 U." This liim-t\ -two yi-.iv old. legend, encloscd in an ancient liible among forgotten books on the library shelf, recalls to wind pathetic incidents in the later life of a line old Scottish saiior, Captain A. Duncan, and liis faithful helpmate Jean.

.U Omaiiuka. a warm sheltered little iaiiii harbor at the north-east end of Aiiaura, Hay, the good old sailor, after lifiy ,\ ears' sea-faring, threw out his peril amni moorings and laid up for the enjoyment of shore life. With the consent of the chief, I'ila iioao, and the ready assistance of the Maoris, he built himself a commodious and comfortable raupo house, wood-lined. One end, the living pari, he fitted up in nautical fashion, resembling the old-time ship's cabins, with bunks, lockers, drawers, charts, compass and nautical instruments.iu every appropriate place. A bookcase contained oldtime books, some of a religious and devotional character, others nautical. The most used and prized was the old calfbound Bible.

A FLKS'i: MEETING. A iirst introduction to the old sailor was lather a rude, rugged one. It was in the early part of 1865, during the outbreak of the Pai Marire war on the East Coast. I had a special duty to perform, and travelling by land being slow, un.-aie and difficult. 1 employed a whaleboat and a -Maori crew. Late one night we landed near Duncan's house. His small boat was hauled up on the beach, with the steer-oar projecting well out aft. In running our boat ashore on the slight surf it struck the steev-oar, unfortunately breaking off the blade. Among the group on the shore, met to greet us, was the old captain, clad in sea packet, sea cap, and telescope in hand. Seeing that we were likely to foul his boat, the old man, in the old gruff sea-dog voice, hailed us, I perhaps being the only one who understood him, the crew being Maoris. -'Sheer off, you lubbers!" "Port your steer! Port your steer!'' Too late. The damage was done. "Did I no tell yc, ye tentless lubbers, to sher oil'?"

Placing the telescope under his arm, he walked up and down the beach in great anger, breaking out in vernacular Scutch. "Kanuitc rir a te koroua," said the chief, when from the door of the house was heard the voice of'a female with a pleasing Scotch accent, ''What ails ye, Archie, mon?" "Keep ye ben, Jean, the tentless lubbers have broken my steers!" Approaching the couple I then expressed regret and offered to pay for the damage done. "And who may you be? Someone shall pay!" "A soldier." "I might have kenned that. Perhaps a marine, neither soldier nor sailor, ot you would have told them to sheer off." The old lady here interposed: "Archie, dinna be uncivil. Quit yer anger and ask the gentleman ben." I followed the couple into the house and the old lady at once invited me to join them at their evening meal, which I gladly did. Everything was beautifully clean and neat. The vivacious spirits of -lean .-oon allayed the anger of the "skipper." as she called him to others, and, although to outward appearance an austere, gruff salt. [ soon found him to be a kind-hearted, God-fearing man of the old Covenanter school. A pleasant evening was spent, the good lady keeping up a continuous fire of good old Scotch jests and' anecdotes, many of which the skipper evidently enjoyed, but he would not show- his appreciation, still maintaining his customary austerity of face. Many an incident of their past life was told me after they found I knew something of the "Auld Land." They had cruised life's sea together upwards of forty years, in all parts of the world. Before retiring to the comfortable shakedown prepared for me, screened off in a corner of the store-room, behind a boat's sail, the ancient Bible was brought nut with great reverence and chapters were read by the skipper, who occasionally stopped to explain in quaint but reverent terms their meaning and teaching. The evening's devotions being ended, I. was retiring, when, with a solemn mysterious beckoning of the hand, the skipper invited me into the inner cabin. The old lady, unseen by him, smiled, raised her hand to her mouth, and made the sign of drinking. Producing a bunch of keys from his pocket, he unlocked and drew out a drawer in the sea-chest, from which he took two old-fashioned tumblers, as broad at the base as at the. top. then followed a black, rotund bottle, also of the old-fashioned stout shape, from which he poured out two measures of commissariat, without having spoken a word. Then sniffing and looking happily at the dark red fluid, he said: "Real old -lamaiia. o.l'. You need not fear, it will pass you through the night watch." I could not slight the hospitality and the commissariat was commissariat in those days. The old skipper was gratified, smacked his lips, shook hands and said "Good-night." As we were passing out again the "guid wife" with a, merry smile said, "Archie, ye didna' gie the laddie a bosun's ane." With a deprecating glance at his Joan, the old skipper again said "Good-night."

ARCIITE'S COFFfX. On re-visiting the clear old folk some, time later, they told me incidents of a long life, she being the teller, the captain listening and at times interrupting correction*, lioth hailed from a Xorth British seaport, where their early life and loves began, but many years of separation followed ere a united course was steered, ending pathetically in this Antipodean home, far from kith and kin. Pointing to some broad, dark, smoked cedar boards upon lhe cross rafter of the outer room, the old lady said, "That's Archie's coffin." Xot understanding, 1 asked for an explanation, which she gave willingly, with a pleasant smile towards the skipper. -About thirty years agone Archie was commanding a brig trading to the West Indies, caught in a heavy gale, was east away on a lee shore, and nearly all hands lost. The brig was laden with cedar. The boat* w'er" goi away, the skipper waiting for the last one. when a heavy sea came aboard, sweeping everything moveable into the waves. Archie came up and found himself near a long cedar piaiik. to which lie at once clung, with one of the crew. After drifting some days they were driven upon a lonely beach, half-starved and exhausted. They were soon afterwards rescued and returned to Scotland, after having been reported as all hands lost, and T was iniournimr sad.. That was the, plank that saved Archie, lie had it cut up into lengths, as you sec. and vowed he would never part with it through life, that it should make his coffin when the time came; he said he would never be drowned while he had it aboard." She told me this pathetic story in her usual half-jocular manner, the captain looking serious the while, and rebukingly saying: ".lean, woman, ye needn't have told about the coffin."

AT WAR WITH THE HAUHAUS. Coming down from sentiment to mundane facts, the old couple next poured out a trouble that had overtaken them in their haven of refuge, owing to the outbreak of "TTauhauism." When the prophet of Te Ua, Kercopa and Patara came to the East Coast, spreading the the '\Pai Marire," religion, after murder-

ing the Rev. Yolkner at Opotiki, many Xgatiuorou embraced tin; new religion at Waiapu and Toiago Bay, also along the intermediate coast. Bloodshed and plunder followed, stemmed only by ihe loyalty ol ihe chiefs. .Viukeiia Kohcre. Itopata W'ahaw.ilia, llenare Petae and their comparatively few loyal followers, in the centre of Tokomaru Bay, a short distance inland, the Jlanhaus constructed a strong fortified pa called L'ukepapa, manned by some six hundred fanatics from W'aiapu, Toiago Bay and along the coast. llenare Potae, with some two hundred loyals, men, women and children, among whom were three Europeans, liill Ward, J. Henderson and J. Cassidy, all old whalers, entrenched themselves on ihe Te .Mawhai Point, the south head of Tokomaru Bay, just above the whaling station called St. Patrick's Cove. The position taken up wac naturally fortiiied, being almost unapproachable except at low tide, a very narrow neck only joining it with the mainland. Potae, while fortifying his position, sent a whaleboat to Turanga and Waiapu for assistance and arms, which he soon after obtained from Sir Robert McLean, then Superintendent at .Napier. Feeling his position now fairly secure, Potae, with his warriors, proceeded along the coast to Anaura to bring in other loyal, people, leaving only some eight men to defend the pa, with a lew fowling-pieces as weapons of defence. Reaching Umanuka, the war party found all on the alert, including Captain Duncan, who had all boats in readiness for escape seaward in the event of an attack. ■ Proceeding to Anaura village and Waipari, all stragglers were gathered by the war party, who then returned to Omanuka, staying the night. Potae requisitioned from Duncan all useful supplies, some £OO worth in trade value, only repaid many years afterwards by the Government through the efforts of the narrator. This parsimony of the authorities was always a sore point witn the old couple, who were comparatively ruined by the loss of their stock in trade. Potae warned them to return with him to Te Mawhai, but this they strenuously refused to do, and although left alone, subject to much risk, they were not molested, the Hauhaus, neither from inland nor from Tokomaru, not daring to come near the coast. On the night of Potae's absence with his party from the pa, all was stir and excitement in the rebel stronghold, Pukepapa. That day some success attendeu their raids of plunder and some bloodshed. One cold-blooded murder was perpetrated by the scoundrel Eru Peka (Baker), afterwards Te Kooti's bugler, shot four years later while a prisoner by Lieutenant-Colonel McDonnell's officers, near Rotorua—loo good a death for such a deep-dyed villain. On the beach at Tokomaru he waylaid the son of an old settler, known to be carrying guns, caps and powder. The boy saw the party and buried the ammunition in the sand, and when captured declined to divulge where. Baker then shot and tomahawked him, leaving the loyal boy's bodv on the beach.

The Hauh.au tohunga, surrounded by. his fanatic followers in the courtyard of the pa, harangued in customary Maori manner, with rush, jump, walk, halt, grimace, lolling out of the tongue and frantic gestures, finally sinking speechless to the ground. During his harangue he said: ''The signs are all favorable, the crescent and the star are in the right position for our atua, Te Mawhai is in our hands, my dream foretells it. Let two hundred be there at day-dawn and victory will be ours." The sun was just rising when the furious barking of dogs, followed by the sentry's cry, roused the occupants of Te Mawhai. Rushing to the east side of the pa, the few defenders saw the sea side rocks full of armed men, the tide at the time being well out; climbing up.the precipitous face was the storming party of some twenty men, Seizing a gun each, three of the young women, named Mere Arihi Tipuna, Te Kaiigi-i-Paea and Hine-Pa-huahua, rushed to help the defenders. One of the young women was the first to face tile foe and lire. Looking over the cliff she found a llauh.au had just reached the top. Aiming her gun, she closed her eyes and fired. Looking again she saw him rolling to the rocks below. Then rapid firing from both sides followed. Hati, the chief, incited the defenders, the old men loading the guns and handing them to the women. The guns being only fowling pieces, loaded with oldfashioned powder, paper and bullet, it was a matter of importance to be ready. The engagement was not long, the young women showing great bravery, fearlessly facing the foes and shooting down each as he attempted to scale the cliff. The Hauhaus finding the vcspulse so vigorously maintained, retreated, leaving thirteen dead among the rocks, and taking several wounded with them to Pukepapa. On the retreat some of the young Hauhau warriors were so indignant with the false prophecy that they threw the old tohunga down treating him with great indignity and rilling his lying mouth with filth. This old man was subsequently shot by Major Ropata's men.

The'To Ikwhai defenders sull'ercd little, only t'vo wounded, one, tbe old pakeluv, Henderson, severely. Me was afterwards taken to Auckland, where he died of his wounds. Fotae returned soon after the attack, very gratified all his women and children safe, but very enraged at the daring attack of the fanatics, many of whom were his own tribe. He then sent a whaleboat to Waiapu, asking Ropata Wahawaha to assist him in an attack on Pukepapa. They joined forces and captured the pa. After the dispersal of the Hauhaus at Tokomaru the united forces marched to drive, them from Tolaga Bay, and Omanuka again became the scene of a war party's rest, There they found Captain Duncan and his wife living with one faithful Maori woman, their loneliness only occasionally relieved by messengers bringing news of the wars going on around them. Both Ropata and Potae treated the old people with kindness, leaving them a plentiful supply of food. The engagement between the loyals and Hauhau forces at TahutahuPo, inland from Anaura and Tolaga, finally dispersed the fanatics in that locality and pcate reigned again round the home of the skipper.

THE DEATH OF JEAN. Being away on campaign J. did not revisit the "Rest" till after an absence of three years. Alas! the pathos of the change. The captain was alone, a changed, sad man, no longer the strong, austere expression of face, but depressed sorrow depicted in every feature. Silent"ly grasping my hand, eyes wet with tears, he led the way round the old home to the garden in the rear. Pointing beneath a flowering peach tree, he said: "She lies there." ' Looking, I understood. The earth oyer the mound was comparatively fresh. Turning in deep sympathy, I said "Jean?" ''Yes," he replied, "at rest. I must soon follow."

Strolling meditatively along to the native whares I learnt particulars of the separation of the faithful couple. The old lady had ailed for some time, and the skipper had been most devoted in his attentions day and night to his beloved Jean. The last night came, when after a chapter from the Bible, she passed to the other shore of eternal rest. To add to the great pathos of the mortal parting, it had always been anticipated that he would go first and that the cedai boards would form his cottin; but man proposes, God disposes. The forty-year-old boards were fashioned into a coffin, the last sad tribute of regard from the good old captain to his dear old helpmate Jean. Such was the fate of the cedar,

recalling Jean's words of past years. "There's Archie's roMin." Li: He eouh; she foresee it would be .'Sean's. The skipper became very melancholy, and was persuaded to visit Anckl-.iid under promise of return to his old home. Thh was not to be. He broke lrom his moorings and drifted to lha! shore upon which his dear Jean had been cast.

There remains' now but a memory to mark the spot where dwell the good sailor. The house was burnt down, the garden destroyed and tin- spot deserted by Maoris. There stands now only the peach tree beneath which is, unmarked, the grave of Archie's Jean.