The Voyage Out
Published in Memories of New Zealand Life by Edwin Hodder, 1862
I went on board the John Blank, a very Gershom, knowing nobody,
and nobody knowing me. It was one of the most miserable days
within my recollection when the vessel left England. A nasty drizzling sleet
was falling, a north-east wind was searching with a deadly vengeance among
the very marrow of one's bones, and a dense fog, of that jaundice-looking
kind which seems as ifit were disease in form, was hanging over the Thames.
It is nothing to anybody what my feelings were when I found myselffloating
down the river, perhaps, for the last time; being borne away from home, and
country, and kindred; nor am I bound to say whether I waved my hat to
figures grown indistinct upon the shore, or sighed a sigh of regret....
The first night of my life on board ship was strange and memorable. As
soon as the day had faded, and nothing remained to be seen on shore, I went
below to reconnoitre and estimate the chances of pleasant company during
the passage. At two tables, covered with brand new oil-cloth, which must
have cost at least eightpence a yard, and seated on low forms without backs,
covered for appearance-sake with green baize equally costly, were my
fellow-travellers and companions. With few exceptions they were all people
who had moved in good positions in the middle class of society. They were
mutually bemoaning the hardships before them, and the way they had been
treated by the ship owners in being consigned to such miserable quarters,
protesting that had they even dreamt of what they now knew, they would
never have set foot upon the John Blank. And truly they had cause to
complain; the hatchway, which had been left open during the day, had let in a
large quantity of water, making the whole place wretchedly cold and damp.
Two miserable oil-lamps were burning, and with their combined strength
shedding as much lustre on the scene as one rushlight would have done. The
steep wooden steps up the hatchway were wet and slippery. The steward,
who upon the prospectus was described as 'giving every attendance, and
studying the convenience and comfort of the passengers', was discovered to
be a purely fictitious individual, having his existence only in the fertile
imagination of the shipowners; and the whole arrangements, which were
declared in that most untruthful and fabulous prospectus aforesaid to be
superior to any vessels on any line of passenger ships', were found to be
altogether of the most unsatisfactory kind.
There were about twenty adult passengers in the second cabin, and a
juvenile population, which, if estimated by the uproar, doubled that of the
adult. One cabin was set apart for single men, and into this I was consigned
with three others. We sat down that night on our boxes, which were jammed
together on the floor of the cabin, a compartment eight feet by six feet,
containing four berths like coffins, just wide enough to lie in without turning,
and talked over the prospects before us. To me they presented no very
agreeable aspect. Our cabin was about the most uncomfortable in the whole
ship; it was totally dark when the door was closed, even on the brightest days.
The deck overhead was badly caulked, and let the rain through; and it was so
small that three had difficulty to find room inside at the same time...
I will not dwell upon the horrors of sea-sickness; they can only be
appreciated when felt, and those who have gone through the trying ordeal
cannot possibly want to have their memories refreshed with such a subject.
Suffice it to say, we found our ship to be in every way adapted to give us as
good a benefit of the disorder as any craft that was ever built. I will not
indulge in invective; but ifever there was a miserable Bat-bottomed tub in this
world, that made lying pretensions to be a first-class clipper built, more
deserving than another to be made a wreck or bonfire, it was the John Blank.
Ceaselessly rolling as if she gloried in it, and was wreaking a bad revengeful
spite on those she carried, our vessel never gave the poor sea-sick travellers a
moment's rest.
At the expiration ofa fortnight the worst ofthe sea-sickness was over, and
then we began to settle down in our floating home, and get into some
systematic order.
Every passenger had to engage in domestic matters, for this reason-there
was nobody else upon whom domestic matters could be thrown. We had no
stewards, no cooks to prepare our food, no attendants of any kind, and
although it may be perfectly true, man wants but little here below, still that
little sometimes involves a great deal of trouble.
I will just give an insight into one day's .work, in order that any
adventurous person, who thinks he should like to take a trip to the Antipodes
under similar circumstances, and is wont to speculate on the poetry of life at
sea, may re-consider the matter before he makes up his mind.
At six o'clock every morning we were awakened by the stentorian voice of
the third mate, who acted also as a storekeeper, bawling out, as loud as he
could bawl: 'Water!' Now, this cry had become perfectly intelligible to us,
and it meant that one person from each mess was to get up, find his keg, take
it on deck, and receive four quarts of water - the day's supply for a mess of
four persons. Arrived on deck, perhaps fifty people would be standing round
the water cask, while the storckeeper doled out the day's allowance, without
any regard to the patience of his customers; and this operation was performed
every morning, wet or fine. At seven o'clock, having washed in salt water
with marine soap, the supply of fresh water being so limited as to preclude the
luxury of washing in that (and having felt during the operation that were it
not for the old memories of childhood-associated with the lines,
Not like to be washed? not like to be clean?
Then, go and be dirty, unfit to be seen-
the victim to such circumstances would have foresworn any ablution until the
voyage's end), preparations had to be made for breakfast. It was usual for one
person to cook for all in his mess, and undertake the whole of the household
arrangements for a fortnight, and then resign in favour ofsome one else, and
so on in turns, the person in office assuming, for the time being, the
high-sounding title of'Captain of the mess'. Breakfast was the mainstay of
our existence, and generally consisted ofa pot of bergou each-a farinaccous
dish, known by the Scotch as 'porridge', and by the English as 'chicken's
food' -reckoned by all to be wholesome, but not highly esteemed as a relish.
This had to be cooked; and the difficulties attendant on so seemingly easy an
operation would form one entire chapter, if Soyer happened to be writing on
the same subject. First of all, a given quantity of oatmeal was placed at the
bottom of the respective pots, with an equivalent of water; the 'captain' then
proceeded to the galley, an inconvenient place, capable of holding three
persons, provided they were fire-proof, and could bear being par-baked
before the roaring fires. On our vessel there were about 200 passengers, one
hundred and fifty of whom had to use this galley fire for all cooking purposes;
so I shall not be judged guilty of exaggeration when I tell the reader that the
captain of the mess had often to stand a couple of hours waiting a chance to get
at the fire to cook the morning's porridge. At eight o'clock, hot water was
given out for the coffee. The captain had to appear again at the galley with his
hook-pot to receive a limited supply of dirty-looking water, boiled in the
same copper in which all the meat was cooked, doled out by a dirty cook,
through the instrumentality ofa dirty ladle. Supposing the vessel to be rolling
much, the difficulty to prevent oneself going head foremost into the
lee-scuppers, hot water and all, had to be cautiously guarded against.
The mess then sat down to breakfast, and a pretty mess it generally
was - bergou burnt, and the brown parts having a strong tendency to adhere
permanently to the bottom of the pot; biscuits musty, and not unfrequently
suggestive of lively features in natural history. Coffee without milk (for it
was not supplied in the ship's rations, and none of us had brought any on
board, so that for the whole four months we never had a drop), tasting
strongly of greasy water, and requiring to be drunk with closed teeth to serve
as an extempore strainer - drunk, too, out of tin mugs which retained the
heat, and could not be put to the mouth until the coffee it contained was
cold - this constituted the repast.
After breakfast, a general rush was made on deck by the passengers to
breathe the fresh air and forget the meal, while the doomed 'captain'
remained below to wash up the breakfast things in cold salt water, clean out
the pots and cans, sweep out the cabin, and perform the usual bed-making
and other occupations - relieved occasionally by a morning at the wash-tub.
He would then collect all jars and stray pots he could find to receive the
week's provisions from the storekeeper; a surly fellow, who delighted to
make the second-cabin passengers wait until those in the steerage were
served, 'just to bring their pride down, and take some of the shine out of
them', as he used affectionately to express it.
The 'captain' would then have to provide the day's dinner, and when I held
that honourable post this was always the crowning point in the day's misfor-
tunes. I once prided myself upon my hands, and would spend many a leisure
half-hour in contemplating them with quiet satisfaction. Now, I had to turn
up my shirt sleeves and bury them in a conglomerated mass of flour, water,
chopped suet and plums, to make a 'duff' for dinner. This operation always
took place in our washhand-basin, for we were told at the shipowner's in
London that nothing need be taken on board save a hook-pot, tin mug, plate,
knife and fork, and spoon each, supposing one plate amply sufficient for one
person at all times, and everything else on the same scale. Having, therefore,
no other supply, and being similarly situated in this respect with most of the
others, we were obliged to make our puddings in the same basin in which we
washed; and - I dread to say it, for fear I should offend some of delicate
palate - being very, very badly off for pudding cloths, we used often to
recourse to a stocking in lieu thereof, in the leg of which our rouly-pouly duff
was boiled.
Our meat was generally either salt beef or salt pork, which, having been
towed overboard to cleanse off all impurities and stale brine, was tied round
with copper wire or string, to which a piece of wood was attached bearing the
initials of the 'captain'. When the hour for dinner arrived, a bell rang, and the
passengers thronged round the galley at which the cook presided, standing
before the huge copper, fishing up the different pieces of meat and singing out
each time, 'Who belongs to E.H., or H.G.?' as the case might be, when the
proprietor in question would signalise himself in some way among the
crowd, and press forward to receive the portion bearing his initials.
Tea was a popular meal but unsatisfactory, having only a variation from
biscuit and butter to butter and biscuit, accompanied with a decoction which
upon analysis we discovered was principally composed of superannuated
birch-broom, but described on the 'dietary scale' as tea.
This was the usual day's work, and a troublesome affair it was. We all
complained bitterly, and spent two-thirds of our time in grumbling; but after
two months' initiation it came to us as a matter of course, and we were so
accustomed to our grievances as hardly to regard them. Now be it known, I
do not attempt to describe passenger ships generally, but merely the John
Blank; nevertheless, every intending emigrant should be remarkably cautious
before taking a passage in any ship, and have a distinct understanding as to all
the rules and regulations, even to the most minute points, before starting. If it
is stated 'everything will be provided', it may be taken as a rule that you will
not get half what you want, and therefore it will be well to prepare for
emergencies. If we had provided ourselves with little luxuries, in the shape of
seats for the deck, eggs, cheese, biscuits, summer beverages and jams for
private cabin use cloths. crockery, culinary utensils, and other things of the
sort, half our troubles would have been obviated.
Time and patience would fail to tell all the disagreeables of the voyage; how
rats held a soirée dansante nightly upon our beds - how cockroaches of fabul-
ous size would put out the candles - how the ship was badly caulked, and for
two months of the voyage we did not know what it was to sleep in a dry
bed - and how innumerable little causes of discomfort occurred for which we
had not bargained. However, we all shared alike; and being fellow-sufferers
we soon came to be mutual sympathisers, and sympathy generated
friendship, insomuch that when the voyage was over many of us sincerely
regretted its termination as it broke up our large family-party...
Yet notwithstanding all the discomforts of our voyage, which were
many, and the daily, nay hourly, annoyances to which we were subject,
either from the cabin passengers, who looked down upon us because we
were literally beneath them; or from the steerage passengers, who regarded
us as upstarts; or internal strifes and vexations among ourselves, which were
not unfrequent: notwithstanding all this, there were on that voyage, as I
have since found there are on all voyages, pleasures and enjoyments
commensurate with the disagreeables.... One incident connected with a
courtship on board our ship I must relate.... In the second cabin was an
ancient maid of the dubious age of thirty or thereabouts, rejoicing in the
name of Amelia, which her affectionate little nieces construed into Aunt
Mealy. This lady was much sought after, not so much perhaps in
consideration of her personal attractions as for a store of jams and other little
delicacies which it was known were stowed away in her cabin, and, for any
killing compliment, might change hands. There was in the first cabin a
young man who was going to New Zealand, for the simple reason that his
society was not required at home. He was what is termed in the colonies
'cranky'; that is, possessed of an unusually small modicum of brains, and
having a strong tendency to imbecility. He had not an imposing appearance,
being diminutive in stature and possessing a most insinuating cast in one
eye, which always seemed struggling to look round the corner. But with
this identical eye he spied out Miss Amelia soon after leaving England, and
whether he fascinated her, or the eye was evil, is not known. We will
suppose the former was the case, for Miss Amelia soon exhibited symptoms
of partiality towards the first-cabin youth. A violent flirtation ensued, and
when the sun had drowned itself in the sea, and the clear stars shone in the
heavens, the sentimental pair would promenade the deck and say - but I
don't know what they said.
We single men in the second cabin were jealous, and justly. We were within
arm's length of the tempting stores, next cabin neighbours to Amelia herself,
and felt therefore we had a just claim to any spare affections she might have to
bestow. Not being thus favoured, we resolved to play a trick upon the 'lovers
so gay'. Accordingly we let a lady friend into our secret, and, as a matter of
course, at once obtained her co-operation. The first step was to have a letter
written by her in a neat lady-like hand, addressed to the first-cabin youth,
stating that 'Miss Amelia, not knowing distinctly what were the intentions of
Mr B-, and being anxious to prevent scandal for the future, would be
happy to meet him on the hen-coops on the poop-deck that evening at ten
o'clock, in order to ascertain upon what grounds Miss Amelia was henceforth
to meet Mr B---'
This letter was sent to the first-cabin youth, who was thrown into a
tremendous state of excitement by the unexpected success he had met with in
his first love passage. Dinner was not eaten by him that day, nor did he make
his appearance on deck until half-past nine o'clock, when he commenced
walking the deck at a furious and excited pace. The night was dark. At ten
o'clock a thickly-veiled lady made her way up the steps leading to the
poop-deck and was received at the top by Mr B--, who handed her
tenderly to a seat on the hen-coops. Not a word was spoken by either; the
lady seemed greatly agitated, and held a handkerchiefto her face; the amorous
youth seated beside her was the very impersonation of nervousness. Some-
thing must be said by somebody, and the youth felt it his duty to break the
ice, which, to judge by the perspiration he was in, could not be a matter of
much difficulty. I do not know what he said; at the best of times people say on
such occasions very stupid things which have no existence in fact; but he
proposed, formally proposed, and tenderly grasped Amelia's hand. But he
did it at his peril. In an instant she struck him a hearty box on the ears which
sent him sprawling on the deck, and ere he could regain his position on the
hen-coops, the young lady, in a violent gush of tears and sobs, fled from the
deck and retreated into the second cabin.
That night poor B- took out his razors, strapped them, and put
them back in the case; but for three days he remained in his own cabin, the
victim to cruel feelings.
Need I say we had borrowed our lady-friend's clothes, dressed up one of
the male passengers from our cabin to represent Amelia, and played a very
practical joke.
But the gist of the thing was to see the scrupulous care with which on all
occasions afterwards he avoided Miss Amelia, and, coward as he was, always
kept at arm's length. Nor was his discomfiture lessened when Miss Amelia
would call him from the other side of the deck, and endeavour to tempt him
into conversation. He always managed to get a mast, the skylights, or some
suitable obstruction between himself and his lady fair, before any conversa-
tion commenced. After a fortnight I told the poor fellow, in confidence, of
the joke which had been played upon him, and he never again attempted
courting during the passage.
But practical jokes, however amusing they may be at the time, often terminate
unpleasantly, or cause a subsequent disagreeable re-action upon the perpetrators.
This was not the case in the affair of Miss Amelia and B ; but in many other
jokes that were played, equally practical, the result was not so satisfactory.
It is usual to complain very much of the monotony of a long sea-voyage—but when
there are a goodly number of passengers, this is considerably relieved;
events are daily happening which render some oue or other the town-talk for a
time. Then the peculiarities of character, which are revealed more on board ship
in a month than they would be elsewhere in five years, present a very interesting
field for study, as the distinctive traits are brought out by daily incidents.
Here is an example:—
Mrs. A. was the victim of fainting fits; if ever she went on deck and nobody
offered her a seat, she would faint from exhaustion. If the cook spoiled the pea-
soup, or burnt the bread, she would make a faint in order to get some medical
comforts from the Doctor; and a hundred other manoauvres, of which woman's
ingenuity is alone capable, were always at hand to assist her in any emergency.
One day she was seized with convulsions on deck. It was a fine day, and all
the passengers were promenading; so that the effect was really telling. One or
two rushed to the rescue, amongst whom was a John Bull fellow, who had a spite
against weakness in any form — woman's especially. He took her hand and rubbed
the fingers together, which were adorned with rings, so briskly, that she
involuntarily opened her eyes and exclaimed, "Oh !" The bystanders imagined she
was " coming to;" but this was not consistent with Mrs. A.'s idea of making the
most of an opportunity, so she relapsed forthwith into a prolonged faint. Our
John Bull friend was bent on mischief, and he said to those around, " This is all
nonsense; I don't believe Mrs. A. is fainting at all." Whereupon the bystanders
declared him to be a cruel, unkind, &nd unfeeling man.
When Mrs. A. recovered, she was assisted down the hatchway, and the first person
she found in the cabin was her John Bull attendant. "Well, Sir," she said, " I
regret I should have so long mistaken you for a gentleman. I could not have
imagined that any one with a spark of manly feeling could have behaved so cruelly
as you have done to-day."
"My dear Madam, what do you mean ? I am quite ignorant of having said or done
anything to offend you," he replied; for truth was unfortunately always at a
discount with him, if a joke was at stake. "
Why, Sir, you have lacerated my hand with your rubbing, and you declared I was
only pretending to faint, when really I was dreadfully ill."
"Pardon me. Madam, you are labouring under an error; I never said anything of the
kind."
"But, Sir, I heard you."
"Bravo !" he cried," then, my dear Madam, if you heard me, you were shamming
after all."
This story went the round of the ship; and it was observed that Mrs. A. never
fainted again, until she had first ascertained that John Bull was taking his
afternoon nap, or otherwise safely out of the way.
When our voyage was about half over, Christmas-day arrived—the grand gala-day of
the passage. It was to be celebrated by a dinner party; plum puddings were made a
week before the event; all the luxuries that could be collected were reserved for
the occasion ; and innumerable plans were laid for spending the day as much
according to old English fashion as circumstances would allow, despite the fact
that we were within the tropics. But on Christmas-eve a heavy gale of wind began
to blow, and on the morning of the eventful day had so much increased as to
render it unsafe for the ladies to be on deck, and everything was damp and
wretched below. The compliments of the season were given and received with a
sickly giggle, and nobody had the heart to be merry. The Doctor came down to
congratulate us, and presented each person with a bottle of some good port he had
on board as medical comforts. Everybody put on their best clothes, and wandered
about talking of how they spent last Christmas.
The great event of the day was to be the dinner party, and at one o'clock we were
all seated, waiting for it to be served up. But at the eleventh hour the cook
came down to say, that owing to the rough weather the meat pies—which were to
constitute the first course — were not done, and that when they were, he feared
they would not be fit to eat, as the sea had broken over the deck, swamping the
galley, and soaking the pastry with salt water. This was a sad damper, but we
tried to make the best of it, and had the third course first, namely, bread and
cheese — the former article being esteemed a great luxury after faring so long
upon hard biscuits. Then came the pudding—the crowning feature in the banquet;
but it came in a peculiar way. Our vessel, as I have said, was an awful roller,
and on this day she was reeling from starboard to port, and port to starboard,
each roll- giving a fresh impetus for another, and staggering with the shocks of
each wave. This rendered it a matter of difficulty to sit at the tables, which
were very foolishly constructed athwart ships — how much more then to walk on
deck ? One of the passengers who prided himself on his " sea legs " was deputed
to go and fetch the pudding; a post of honour which he felt to be a flattering
distinction. He went; he safely brought it as far as the hatchway, and then a
heavy sea struck the vessel's side, and the unfortunate pudding came rolling down
the ladder, and burst into numerous fragments at our feet! The pieces were
collected, scraped, and placed on a dish, and we still magnanimously endeavoured
to make fun of the matter; but when we commenced eating it, and discovered
that it had been boiled in salt water, and that our week's rations of plums and
flour, together with almonds and other luxuries, were all spoilt, human
patience could brook it no longer, and we lifted up our voices and howled
imprecations on the cook, and "John Blank," and everybody and everything.
Besides the daily social events that happen on board ship, there are always some
external excitements occurring to relieve the monotony. Exchanging signals, and
speaking with other vessels, is very interesting, more especially if they are
homeward bound; writing letters, and corking them up in bottles, to be thrown
into the sea when the ship is anywhere near land, produces a general interest;
fishing, shooting, and snaring the albatross, is an endless amusement to the
lover of sport; and the appearance of whales, porpoises, sharks, or any of the
monsters of the deep, water spouts, lunar rainbows, and other phenomena,
are sure to produce an excitement among all hands. Then there are the different
appearances of the sea; sometimes rough weather, which, if esteemed agreeable
or otherwise, nevertheless effects a change in the course of events; and a calm
brings with it a number of opposite circumstances. Crossing the line, and
placing a hair across the telescope, in order to let the unlearned get a good
view; watching the glorious tropical sunsets, and picturing imaginary scenes in
the painted clouds; witnessing the departure of old familiar stars, and looking
out for the beautiful southern constellations, are all events of interest.
In our passage we sighted land several times; obtained a good view of Madeira,
partially of the Canary Islands, and went close to that curious island of curious
history, Tristan d'Acunha.
All these may be considered very minor and unimportant events, and so they would
be under other circumstances; but in the narrow limits of a board-ship world,
they meet with their due appreciation. It would be tedious to tell the oft-told
tale of ordinary sea-life here; to go into particulars of gales and squalls, the
doubts, fears, and anxieties of passengers, the disasters and calamities of seas
breaking on board, or the thousand little incidents which are patent to every
voyager. The descriptions which have been given must suffice to form an idea of
some of the ways of spending time, of the privations which have to be endured,
and the pleasures and enjoyments which are usual to such a life.
At length, after a hundred and thirteen days' tossing about on the restless
ocean, we began to near the shores of New Zealand. Everybody was on the qui vive,
day and night: " shore-clothes" were unpacked, the ship was made tidy, and active
preparations for landing occupied the undivided attention of passengers and crew.
The first palpable evidence that we were approaching land was given one morning
when the sounding line was brought on deck, and the Captain was seen perpetually
straining his eyes in one particular direction. A hearty cheer burst
simultaneously from the passengers when, in the far-distant horizon, a faint
streak like a cloud was discerned. Steadily onwards sped the "John Blank;" and by
noon, New Zealand, our future home, the land of promise, was before us.
But although we were in a bay, and land was ahead, it was not Blind Bay; and the
land before us was not Nelson, the port to which we were bound. The nautical
instruments of the Captain had misled him, and where we were the chart only could
decide. The ship was tacked, and forthwith put to yachting purposes—a coasting
tour. It was a successful one; for, in less than an hour, rocks and islands were
found to agree with the chart, and tell our whereabouts. We were far off the
course that should have been followed; but we willingly forebore grumbling, as a
chance now occurred of seeing to perfection some of the most beautiful of New
Zealand scenery before landing.
The day was lovely; the bright resplendent sun seemed expressly employed in the
kindly mission of showing us our adopted country in the best light; not a cloud
resting over the land, seemed to give us a prophetic assurance of prosperity. It
was a glorious scene. Far as the eye could reach, ranges of mountains rose one
above the other, until the bold acute outlines stood out alone in the sky;
densely timbered hills, displaying the most faultless foliage, rose from the
water's edge, while others, covered with fern, and loose rocks and stones, looked
like old ruined castles and abbeys of a former age. One very singular freak
of nature was an island (described in the chart as Archway Island) formed of an
immense rock, washed by the sea into the form of a tower, with archways and
passages around, having all the appearance of an architectural design, executed
by the hand of man. Nature seemed to have made that coast one of her particular
studies, to comprehend a large collection of her many beauties, and the
lavishness of her varied designs.
On Sunday night, the 9th of February, in strict accordance with the unsabbatarian
principles which obtain among all New Zealand vessels, the joyful sound
of "Clear the cable," and " Let go your anchor," was heard. With a loud noise
the cable ran out, and the ship rode at anchor, the passengers all joining with
heart and voice immediately afterwards in singing— "Praise God, from whom all
blessings flow."
We were not able to go ashore that night, as no boats were put off to us, and we
were lying out about three miles from the harbour. It was amusing to look at the
different expressions of countenance as the passengers gazed on their future
home. There it was before them, a wilderness of hills and gigantic mountains,
densely timbered, and without one trace of the cultivating hand of man. Until the
harbour is fairly entered, all view of the town of Nelson is shut out; not a foot
of level land is to be seen from the sea, nothing but the everlasting hills. We
puzzled ourselves all that evening in trying to imagine where it was possible
the town could have hidden itself, and where level land could be found sufficient
for all the people who had come out in the "John Blank" expressly to farm.
Next morning all problems of this kind were solved.
At an early hour the tide favoured us, and we sailed triumphantly into harbour.
During that time, the scenes that were going on below deck were of a most
amusing, yet edifying and satisfactory kind. The termination of the voyage had
terminated all ill-feelings that had existed among us. Those who had been sworn
enemies throughout the passage, were now vowing eternal friendship over bottles
of beer; those who had injuries to forgive, or apologies to make, were
accomplishing their tasks with the greatest candour and good will. One elderly
gentleman was magnanimously pronouncing an absolution upon some person or persons
unknown who had stolen a cheese of his; and while all this was going forward,
simultaneously with the packing of boxes, sundry presents were being exchanged in
token of good faith.
A boat soon came alongside, in which I and my cabin companions managed to make
our exit, and arrive the first on shore. With light hearts, full of
thankfulness, we stepped on terra firma, and were received by the settlers, who
had assembled on the beach to witness the disembarkation, as cordially as
if we were old and intimate friends. We were besieged with inquiries—" How many
days had we been out ?" Any deaths?" "Was Mr. Jones on board ?" "Had we any
passengers named Smith?" and a hundred other questions, were eagerly put by
anxious relatives and friends. Some ladies were there, who presented us with
peaches, apples, and other fruits, which, after four months on the sea, without a
sight of any fresh fruit or vegetables, it need hardly be said, we gladly
accepted; others gave pressing invitations to breakfast at their houses; and one
or two, upon learning that our friends lived some miles up the country, kindly
offered to convey us in their bullock-drays. Here was a lively exhibition of the
truest hospitality; it was a treat to have our hearts gladdened with the sight of
a comparatively new virtue to us, illustrated so happily. Before we had been in
New Zealand an hour we felt at home, and were confident that we should not only
like the people, but their ways and habits. Doubtless it was very infra dig.,
and, to some folks' thinking, quite improper, for total strangers to introduce
themselves, shake hands with cordiality, offer presents of fruit, give
invitations to breakfast, and evince pleasure in welcoming mere strangers to a
new country. So let it be to those who think so. For my own part, I took it as
the evidence of warm-hearted friendly feeling, dictated by the best and noblest
principles, called into exercise by the memory of days gone by, when they had
landed strangers in a strange land. And now, although it is five years since that
time, among my intimate friends are several of those who welcomed me on shore
when I first landed in New Zealand.
Transcribed by Corey Woodw@rd
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