FROM AUCKLAND TO GISBORNE, COASTWISE.

Gisborne Standard and Cook County Gazette, Volume III, Issue 324, 13 July 1889, Page 3

FROM AUCKLAND TO GISBORNE, COASTWISE.

[BY “NARRATOR.”] Is these liter days, when the great God Pau is dead. and bis pipes rotten long ago; when everything at high pressure is 'cribbed, cabined, and confined' by a dense, elastic, but well nigh impervious superstratum of conventionalism which heaves and undnlates with ths throes of pentnp human aspirations; f rarely bursting through, and soaring upward ' with eminence; and every intellectual nose must be kept unremittingly to a metaphorical grindstone, if it would surpass in acuteness its fellow noses. When we contemplate even cur pleasures with an ever watchful eye to the main chance, and (‘ bound to time ’) rush about the world in swift steamers, vainly imagining we are enjoying ourselves, as the show places of this earth pass in rapid phantasmagoric review before us. It is quite a treat to make an oldfuhioned trip in a quiet well ordered sailing craft for once in a way, and leaving the distraction and anxiety of city life behind, step upon its cleanly, reposeful docks, devoid of screeching winches, bellowing foghorns, multitudinous gabbling fellowpassengers, obsequious waiters, and marine Babeldom generally. There she lies at •Firth’s Wharf,* a trim white painted schooner of some 80 or 70 tons, whose symmetrical lines, sharp bow, tall massive spars and ample beam betoken power, speed, and comfort combined. The' Gisborne' is j ust getting under way for the capital of Cook County, from which she derives her name, and with hia gracious permission the reader and Narrator will step on board and take a passage in her. She sails with the evening tide, and we soon shake down into our comfortable quarters, remarkably comfortable for so small a vessel. There are two lady passengers. One, quite young, just convalescent after a Sharp attack of typhoid, She is seeking lost roses on the coast, and soon found them among the health giving sea breezes, Narrator is glad to say, a The harbor lights shine but brightly under Rhe starlit sky for a time, as we go out with •the ebb, and as the breeze freshens and our clipper gracefully bows her adieu to the Horlltan City, drop suddenly out of vision, slnglp/hjf twos, and threes, and altogether, Now we round the North head, and open out a vast, dimly defined prospect of the ' island Studded * Bauraki, with Tiri Tiri light beaming brightly on the port bow, The picturesque Haurski has been previously 1 done * unfier every conceivable circumstance, as has Mercury Bay, its islets, and every noteworthy thing contiguous thereto, by far abler pens than that of the Narrator, besides which the llgh? scpthwestpr grows chilly as the night advances, while the cabin light gleams cosily up from below, inviting to repose. A cheery, sunshiny morning succeeds with little wind, Which, however, carries us past Cape Colville, and finally leaves us at eventide becalmed among the Mercuries. Old ocean is in very gentle mood, and respires smoothly and Slowly in stupendous glossy undulations. Flights of marine birds form line, wheel and Storm their aerial evolutions on tbs islandndad horizon with mathematical regularity, sun goes down, and the stars begin to twinkle with scarcely an appreciable interval of time between. Mr Gregory, the mate, gets out his fishing tackle, and very soon flop, thud and gurgle, acmes an ' old man echnapper ' on to the deck, * Too large, 1 says the successful fisherman, and tries again. There is a rapid succession of * old men,* diversified occasionally by a few plsolne hobbls-de-hoyc, when Mr Gregory calls ' Hold I enough,’ and Jem bears oft some 12 or H fine fish to the culinary department, with the deprecatory air of a l cordon blue,’ ‘ Course decided by a coarse fish,' says he. Notwithstanding they are by his skilful manipulation transformed into very toothsome dishes, when we gather next morning round the breakfast table. Another beautiful day found us bowling along with the Still eoptinqing, end freshening South-wester (Which drawing more to the Westward, is be ginning to crisp the waves, and converts our peat little poop into an inclined plane at a perilous angle, for the owners of indifferent «ea legs) on our quarter. Leaving Mayor Island (seven miles in circumference, and 1,100 ft. high) behind ; a magnificent panoSol the sea gradually becomes revealed as we sail along. Five-or six miles t, on our port bow, the active island volcano ' Whakari * (er White Island) is disgorging an immense volume of mingled smoke and steam, which flattened down as it were Into solidity, by the wind, trends away in dense vaporous cloud masses to the Eastward, while to starboard, Whale Island (1,167 ft.) appears dimly in shore, nestling as it were under the shadowy base which envelopes the

distant land. On the mainland, Mount Edgecombe (2,575 ft.) rears its lofty volcanic pone into the clouds which—t‘ Gather around its summits, as to show, How earth may pierce to heaven,” Hauling our wind slightly, we new stand for Maraenui, the first of a series of populous native settlements of the Southern Bay of Plenty seaboard, and as old night once more envelopes everything in his sombre mantle drop anchor immediately opposite the Village. Succeeding the plunge of the anchor and rush and rattle of the chain cable, almost perfect silence prevails ; only broken by the measured beat of the surf upon the adjacent peach. "Afew lights are visible moving about on shore, the stars beam out brightly, and over the volcano to seaward, hangs a dull ruddy glare, while the ocean on every side, and as far as the eye can reach—- “ Is spangled with phosphoric fi-e, As though the lightnings there had spent their shafts. And left the fragments glittering on the field.” Morning dawns, with the wind more to the westward ; a fresh hand at the bellows (as Jem says) and theses decidedlylumpy, while our good ship, with her staysail to windward, lies uneasily awaiting a boat from the shore, By-end-bye it eomes, the merest cockleshell of a boat, now impertinently visible with just ths tip of jits stem showing up above a huge watery mound, anon lost to sight in

the deep ocean furrows, A tall, stalwart Maori jumps on board, his mates having -Ml their work to do to keep their ■rail craft off the ship's side, He leaps Tbaek, a plough and some packages are •bundled after him, bands are waived, and the ’boat sinks out of sight from the deck In a moment, to reappear on the crest of a wave hundreds of yards away, rowing, rising, and falling shoreward, ' f pet draw, 1 ’’shouts Captain Skinner as we Once more * bend to the breeze,' and skirting the coast, here ample leisure for pbservafion pf |ts varied and interesting features.—A sharp outline of high forest clad ranges, descending steeply to the near margin of the Ocean. Between the woodland and actual beach, intervenes a (usually) fertile flat of varying dimensions, which, commencing at Maraenui {before mentioned), extends with greater or lees breaches of continuity all along the coast line of the Bay of Plenty, southward to Cape Runaway. This irregular plateau is frequently intersected by riven of some magni>ude, deep ravines, and bush olad gullies, is occupied at intervals by many exten*lve and populous native settlements, of jrhlph Maraenui, Omajo, Te Saha, Raukotore, and Crete may be deemed the prlnoipsl, There are several very respectable European settlers living a contented and apparently tolerably prosperous life, in comfortable homesteads along the Coast, the climate and sanitary surroundings being (so near the sea) Unexceptionable, and absolutely free from Swamps, or malarious influences of any kind, * ’But while I have been digressing about the geographical features, Ac., of the Coast, our good ship has arrived off the next village, of gmaio, and a smoke on shore indicates a faslra to communicate. This signal is, however, disregarded, as the Captain wishes to make Orate point before nightfall, and we hear away for the next and large settlement pf Te Kaha. I may mention here as illustrative of the numerous Maori population, that there are no less than seven native schools between Opotiki and Cape Runaway, and they all seem to be fairly attended. Also that from Te Kaha, Omaio and adjacent tillages, some 1500 bags of wheat, and 2000

Note,—* Scarcely shout. There are no pronounced shouts (in fine weather) on board Gisborne, and no oaths at any time that I evt* hswd.—N’aa&ator.

baa's of maize, besides (* keka ’) fungus, pigs, and other native produce is exported annually. Between Omaio and Te Kaha, juts out very ostentatiously from the irregular Coast contour the useful little peninsula of Awanui. It is with difficulty distinguishable to the unpractised eye from seaward, presenting only the appearance of a scarped headland of little prominence, l}Mt behind it . inlet, possessing s depth. of water~cd float small vessels in safety during the prevalence of the bad wind of this part of the Coast. ’The Gisborne,’ says Captain Skinner, * has often ridden out fierce N.W. gales under Awanui, with two anchors down. ’ [to be continued.]