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I hereby certify that, after investigation of the publisher's lists and other records, the average circulation of the New Zealand Railways Magazine for the 12 months ended May, 1928, is in excess of 20,000 copies per during the whole of that period and that, during the months of February and March, 1929, the circulation has increased to over 22,500 copies.
Controller and Auditor General.
After a winter well suited for alpine sports and for that kind of holiday which seems to demand for its full satisfaction the atmosphere of the high levels, the return of spring brings with it the spirit of unrest that travel is best calculated to assuage. Although all kinds of people have a preference for the springtime—“the only pretty ring-time” —none welcome it more than those who have had to carry on throughout the winter the steady routine of work.
Thus the popularity of the low-fare excursion period which the Department provides coincident with the school spring vacations, is assured of public support. It was this year joyously welcomed by the people, young and old, who had the good sense to take the chance of a health-reviving holiday at a time when the quickening pulse of the season made change a good thing for both mind and body.
To townspeople in particular, travel in the springtime is necessary to keep them in touch with the evidences of reawakened nature which the country alone produces in full measure. The little lambs frisking in the fields, the “day-old” calves trucked to maintain a thriving industry, the blooms bursting on the trees, and the flowers opening in their wealth of scent and colour all supply material for that chapter in the story of the year which tells of post-winter renewal.
Even our versatile humorist, Mr. Ken Alexander, has succumbed to the spell of the spring season, and sings, in this issue, of “the cryptic cry of the early spud” and other strange phenomena. The spring unrest, however, cannot be quelled for everyone during the brief spring excursion period, so the travel movement carries on and over with only a brief lull, into the full swing of summer holidaymaking.
But the spring unrest does more than make one want to “rise and go, where the golden apples grow.” It produces, also, that spring-cleaning spirit which affects every good housewife, unsettles dust and cobwebs, and brings about a brisk business in new brooms. This same spirit carries over to the workshops, the station, the goods-shed, the signal-cabin and the track. It leads mean to analyse their work with a view to betterment, to try experiments in new ways, to tune up their jobs, and to refresh their minds and methods in keeping with the revival which Nature is carrying on around them. All who are sensitive to the insistence of spring should welcome the unrest which it brings, for it supplies the finest possible external incentive to progress and self-improvement. To neglect the call of spring in this direction is to fall behind in the general movement towards development which the years bring, and to lose touch with the great driving force that has brought
This is the time when new ideas are brought forward most hopefully, when enterprise gains the interested attention of investors, when plans that have been in cold storage all the winter are brought out for an airing and have their best chance of acceptance. For with the spring unrest comes a spirit of hopefulness and optimism that makes for better business and lays the foundations upon which the ultimate progress of the year is built.
The glorious springs that New Zealand enjoys are among the things that help this country to maintain and improve her great productive records, and we, as railway-men, can heartily welcome a good spring such as that upon which we are entering, for it means increased traffic and better opportunities for proving our usefulness to the country as a whole.
Two new, complete trains have now started building in the Railway Workshops at Otahuhu.
In these are incorporated the very latest practice in railway carriage construction, many of the old features of New Zealand carriages having completely disappeared. The windows are of plate glass and are of the balance type, opening from the top to the bottom, and are frameless. One of the many important details which have been included is the fitting of vestibules to all cars, thus securing, by an enclosed space, a more complete connection between the carriages, and doing away with the old type open platform at the ends of cars.
G.P.O. Box 1133, Auckland, July 18, 1929.
The Honourable Mr. W.B. Taverner, Minister of Railways,
Wellington.
Dear Sir.–
You would do me a great favour if you would allow me to express to you, not only on my behalf, as Organising Secretary for the “Emden” Reception Committee in Auckland, but also on behalf of Mrs. Thedens, my sincere thanks for the courtesy which you have shown in issuing invitations to us during our stay in Wellington while the German cruiser “Emden” was there.
Your generosity has greatly contributed in making our sojourn in your city a most pleasant one, and I respectfully ask you to convey our most hearty thanks to the Officers of your Department who co-operated so successfully that I do not wish to miss this opportunity to congratulate you upon their efficiency.
It would please me very much if you would consider my services at your entire disposal at any time that occasion might present itself.
I have the honour to be, dear Sir,
Yours faithfully,
(Sgd.) O.J. Thedens,
Austrian Trade Commissioner for New Zealand.
Each first-class car is fitted with a coupé to accommodate six passengers. These coupés have proved most popular on such trains as the “Golden Arrow,” which some consider to be the finest train in the world. Special attention has been given to the seating, which will be considerably more comfortable than our existing seats, being of the reversible type. They will have three positions, i.e., day, semi-lounge, and total recline. The metal work for the seats is being made of aluminium alloy, thus saving 501bs. in weight per seat as compared with the existing type. All seats are so arranged in the car as to give a clear view from the seat through the related window. The cars are fitted with atmospheric steam heating apparatus, and generous electric light and fans. Each car is fitted with a lavatory with hot and cold water. The whole of the water capacity, 160 gallons, is carried below the under-frame, and is raised by air pressure. Each vehicle of the train is sheathed with Vitron enamel plates. The object achieved by using this sheathing is that there is no painting required, the surfaces being easily cleaned by the use of a sponge and hose. The whole train will be finished in Midland Lake red. Another new feature is that for the first time in New Zealand automatic couplers will be used for the cars of the two trains.
At the end of each train is a specially constructed and generously equipped observation car. This car has windows 3ft. 6in. in width, it has a rounded glass end, and is furnished with lounge chairs.
Many improvements are being embodied in the second class cars. Each of the Rotorua Express services will consist of a total of eight vehicles.
In a statement to the Press the Hon. W.B Taverner (Minister of Railways) gives some interesting particulars regarding the rebuilding programme of the Department in the matter of bridges.
The Government's policy of giving New Zealand industries as much support as possible in contracts for public works is exemplified in the recent acceptance of tenders for the new Ngaruawahia and Whenuakura bridges. The steel plates and shapes (a total weight of 500 tons) will be imported from Great Britain, but the whole of the fabrication of the steel work will be done in the Dominion.
In addition of the encouragement of local industry, these works have another interesting aspect as they mark the beginning of an extensive programme of reconstruction of the old original timber bridges.
Altogether, the New Zealand railway system has about 53 miles of bridges, including a total length of about 32 miles of timber construction. Most of the old wooden bridges were made of native timber, chiefly kauri or totara. They served their purpose well under the lighter traffic of the past, but they have to be replaced now by stronger structures to meet the new needs of the much-changed times. Increasing traffic has demanded the adoption of heavier types of engines, exceeding the weights for which the bridges were originally designed, and native timbers in bridges have been wholly replaced with the stronger and more durable Australian hardwoods. These, in turn, have a limited life, and as the need for heavier engines still persists, and timber increases in cost, it becomes uneconomical to maintain the original types of bridges in service. Therefore reconstruction in steel and concrete to a high standard of strength is found advisable.
Attention is being focused first of all upon important main lines, so that restrictions on the running of some of the heavier engines can be removed, with the resulting economies in traffic operation.
The Ngaruawahia bridge carries the Main Trunk line over the Waikato River at Ngaruawahia, near Frankton. The existing bridge (timber and iron with cast iron cylinder piers) was built about the year 1876. Practically all the original native timber have since been replaced with ironbark in the course of maintenance, and much of the ironwork has also been replaced or strengthened. Present-day engine loadings now far exceed those of former days, however. Therefore, the old bridge, with its materials rapidly deteriorating in spite of careful maintenance, has now reached the end of its useful life.
The new bridge will have three 120ft. spans and three short approach spans. The main shore piers will be of mass concrete resting on piles, and the river piers will be reinforced concrete cylinders, ten feet in diameter at the base, sunk to a depth of about 40 feet below water level. At both Ngaruawahia and Whenuakura bridge sites, borings have been put down near each new foundation, and test piles driven and loaded with test loads in order to determine as far as possible the conditions to be met with in constructing the foundations.
The Whenuakura bridge crosses the Whenuakura River between Rangikura Patea, on the Marton-New Plymouth section. The new bridge will have a single main span of 142 feet resting on reinforced concrete cylinder piers, and three 60ft. plate girder spans.
The original bridge, constructed of native timber, in about the year 1880, consisted of two 60ft. trusses and nine 20ft. beam spans, all carried on high timber piers. One of the main piers and the two 60ft. truss spans were carried away in a heavy flood in January 1922. A temporary reconstruction has served to carry the traffic at a reduced speed up to the present. The old timbers are now worn out, and the extra temporary piers, constructed in mid-stream, have caused heavy scour and weakening of the foundations which can only be relieved by the removal of the temporary piers now obstructing the waterway, necessitating the construction of a long main span. The wash-out in 1922 was mainly due to a log jam between the bridge piers, and the new main span has been made long enough to prevent any such blockage in future.
The general programme for the improvement of our car stock includes many features which will help to make train travelling more attractive, but progress with the work could not be made on a large scale until the principal workshops on our system had been modernised. Now that the new workshops are in full occupation, progress in supplying that elusive quality of service which lies in comfortable and good-looking vehicles should be rapid and productive of good results. I think it will help us to compete successfully with road services that have come into the field recently over routes served by the rail, where the day, or the greater portion of it, is necessarily occupied in travelling. On a run such as that between Auckland and Rotorua we will be able to make the trip more interesting and convenient to through passengers than it could be by road. Where the density of traffic warrants it, observation and coupé cars, certainly can supply opportunities for either work or entertainment, that road services cannot provide. Music, reading, private business, discussions, or secretarial work are amongst the things that the new daylight passenger train rolling-stock will make possible to travellers. With this we hope to build up a social atmosphere on our trains that better equipment, increased facilities for recreation, and higher standards of comfort will encourage. The general attitude of the staff towards passengers is already distinctly good, but, quite naturally, the members of the staff are affected by their surroundings. Practical experience has indicated that the are made capable of better service with each improvement in the appearance and quality of the trains they handle.
Meantime many small matters are receiving attention, for I recognise that slight and inexpensive alterations can often add greatly to the convenience and comfort of the traveller. For instance, seats may now be reserved for children under three years of age without the payment of a fare. Another new feature has been the introduction of an issue of “Tourist Excursion” tickets for second class travel. Up to the present only first class tickets of this type have been on sale. The second class “Tourist” ticket will supply remarkably cheap travel. The rate to be charged has been fixed at £7/10/- for four weeks’ travel in one Island, or £13 for seven weeks’ travel over all the railway lines in New Zealand. The average cost of a full day's travel by rail on these tickets will be only 6/-per day as compared with the average of about 8/-per day for first class tourist tickets. The new issue should prove very popular with those who wish to travel cheaply over considerable distances for holiday or business purposes. They are being introduced now so that they may be taken into consideration by the public, when planning their annual holidays, as a particularly cheap method of seeing New Zealand.
The “Daylight Limited,” the scenic train of the central North Island will this year be introduced at the end of September. This is much earlier then usual. The service is popular with those passengers from the South Island who want quick connection with the northern portions of New Zealand. It is also a very useful train for business people. Visitors to the National Park will find the train a particularly convenient one. The longer that was not possible when the service was put on only for short periods.
It is pleasing to be able to record an increase in goods traffic during the financial year to date of approximately 75,000 tons, with an accompanying decrease in traffic costs of 2.82% per train mile. These figures are a true index of our success in holding and increasing the freight business of Department while at the same time conveying it at a
Good work has been done through the special efforts made by the workshops locomotive staffs at Lower Hutt and Hillside to overtake the work of heavy repairs to locomotives. The figures presented to me indicate that during August the output in this respect has been approximately 30% in excess of that for which the new workshops were designed. I desire to express my appreciation of the fine effort made by the staff in picking up the inevitable arrears resulting during the change-over between the old and new workshops.
We expect to be in a better position than last year to deal with the coming summer's traffic, partly as a result of the improved workshops output, and partly because some of the general work of railway improvements, such as the main line deviation at Auckland, the duplication near Frankton, and central train control will facilitate the despatch of trains and make easier the handling of traffic.
General Manager
Entomologists may be interesting to other entomologists—let us hope so heartily—but who believes that psychologists could be upliftful to other psychologists? Would a duly qualified medical practitioner be pleasantly thrilled by the technical lecture of a chiropractor on the art and crafts of mending or ending patients? If a High-brow is not a bore to a Low-brow he certainly is to another High-brow.
* * *
One of the most painful bores is he or she who is afraid of boring you. Usually this kind of bore is not dull-witted, but the fussy solicitude is disconcerting. Perhaps the narrative is tedious, but the knowledge that you will be suddenly asked, “Am I boring you?” keeps you from lapsing into the detached reverie which you could otherwise have, with an occasional nod as a polite expression of interest.
The ordinary fully-qualified bore fully believes that he is entrancing. He would no more think of saying “Am I boring you?” than “Am I jarring your wisdom teeth?” or “Am I making you feel manslaughterous?” His one desire is to speak, and as long as you let him speak he does not notice whether you are listening or not, so that you are free to let his words bounce from you as hailstones from an iron roof, and slip away into your own thoughts about the bank rate, the balance of trade, or the licensing question.
* * *
If there is a worse bore than the man of one idea or one ideal it is the man of many ideas and many ideals. You can learn something from the man of one idea, if he has intelligence and has used it well in his searches and researches. True, he will give you a hogshead when you only want a glass, but he does bring you something worth while. The man of innumerable notions and commotions of thoughts and thoughtlessness is like a donkey-engine that has run amok or a motor-cycle climbing a hill with the exhaust at full blast. His patter and clatter simply numb you and make your brain feel like bran.
Who or what are the worst bores? It depends on circumstances. If you are feeling seedy yourself, you are excruciatingly bored by the person who delights in chats about troubles of his internal machinery, which you like to ignore or forget. If your banker has just summoned you to his well-furnished office, coldly correct in all appointments, for one of those unrefreshing chats, the gross money-maker's talk about his cuteness in deals, his profits, his new motors, and his new week-end mansion by the sea is villainously poisonous.
Indeed, it would be easier to agree on who are the best inspirers of humanity than on who are the worst bores. A discussion of that question at an afternoon-tea party or any other party would disclose astonishing differences of beliefs and opinions.
What grievous suffering has been caused at public dinners by dreary speakers, with interminable matter-of-factness as flat as their monotonous voices! As a protection against such dreadful boring, would it not be fair to have a regulation compelling all orating or prating banqueteers to stand on one leg (with the other unsupported) during their harangues? The resultant brevity would not be always the soul of wit, but would be usually welcome. The application of a similar rule to sittings of Parliaments (in all countries), conferences, boards, and councils would do more good than harm.
As an alternative, in the case of Parliament, things might be so arranged to enable Mr. Speaker, by working an electric switch, to give mild, medium, or full-length shocks to tedious, irritating iterators.
The old days of Christchurch's Cathedral Square, Wellington's Post Office Square, and other resorts of political, social, or religious enthusiasts in Dunedin and Auckland, have gone, but the streets still have their public speakers. Their words are ground under the wheels of trams and motor-cars, and are mixed up with the horrible clanging and snorting of man's machines. Some pedestrians, giving most of their attention to fretful, threatful traffic, pause for a few moments, and move on; the composition of the listless audience changes from moment to moment. Amid the din one catches such fragments as “emancip” “means of produc,” “wage sla”—odds and ends that slip between the honks, hoots, blasts, and toots of murderous motors—and yet the battered and buffeted voices drone and groan on, hoping that even half a word, or half a phrase, may be better than none in helping humanity onward or backward.
* * *
Multiplicity of interests has its disadvantages from various viewpoints, but it does make for peacefulness among the public. Shrewd rulers of the Roman Empire worked on that principle with their lavish amusements for the populace. The emperors strengthened their personal positions temporarily, but weakened the foundations of the State.
When the public mind is spread thinly over a wide field of interests it is not a good seed-bed for sowers of disaffection. When that mind is rolled up between walls of difficulty and drabness the insurrectionist and the revolutionary have their chance.
* * *
The present feminine fear of fat in the British Empire would seem very silly to a Moor, who likes his women to be palpably plump. If they lack the ideal curves, they feed up until they gain the desired outlines. The men would be pained and horrified by any attempts of their women to slip into slimness, and would regard such elimination of fat as an unholy sacrifice to false gods of beauty (or ugliness). Frenchmen, too—although many of the fashionable Parisiennes are still devoted to the flat slabby styles—have not lost their admiration of enbonpoint.
At a function held on 14th August, officers representing all branches of the service gathered to do honour to Mr. John Cameron, District Traffic Manager, Wellington, on the occasion of his retirement on superannuation after completing forty years in the service of the Department. In the course of a fine speech, the General Manager of Railways, Mr. H. H. Sterling, paid the following tribute to Mr. Cameron's work and worth.
Mr. Sterling stated that as on previous occasions when members of the staff had gathered together for the purpose of farewelling a superannuated member, he approached the matter with mixed feelings of pleasure and regret. They all felt the pleasure that one who had honourably served the Department for forty years had at last attained the right to enjoy untrammelled the pleasures of private life. He was pleased to see so large a representative gathering of Mr. Cameron's fellow officers. It showed to how great an extent he had gained the esteem and confidence of those with whom he had worked. It indicated that Mr. Cameron had held the scales of justice evenly and with honour to himself and those associated with him.
“In your view,” said Mr. Sterling, “as railwaymen of the Wellington branch of the service. Mr. Cameron has been a just and upright ‘boss.’ This is a big thing to say of any man—that he is so able to hold the scales of justice that he is universally regarded as unswervingly upright. But I can say it from the point of view also of-one who has to look at Mr. Cameron's work and judge its effect on the Department and the public. On this account also I desire to express how deeply sensible we are of the loss which the Department has sustained in his departure.”
Mr. Sterling went on to say that the efficacy with which a traffic district was controlled could be judged somewhat from the complaints which arose in it. On this point he could say that so far as the Wellington district was concerned, during Mr. Cameron's six years’ regime the complaints had been nil. (Applause.) As General Manager he had never had cause to lose a night's sleep through anything arising out of events occurring in Mr. Cameron's district.
Mr. Sterling said that Mr. Cameron's record of experience and the ability he had applied to his work had produced an officer of the highest quality. While at Invercargill he believed Mr. Cameron had worked through every job in the office below that of District Manager. Mr. Cameron had done his duty by the country and so placed the country under a debt of gratitude for which superannuation was but a poor return. (Applause.) The staff felt that they could not let Mr. Cameron go without some tangible evidence of their esteem and recognition of his long period of service in the Department.
Mr. Sterling then presented Mr. Cameron with a handsome grandfather clock suitably inscribed, a splendidly upholstered easy chair, as gifts from the Wellington district staff generally, and a handsomely bound book as the particular gift of Mr. Cameron's own office staff.
Mr. Sterling said that he hoped that the gifts would serve to remind Mr. Cameron of the best wishes they all extended to him for a long and pleasurable retirement. At the same time, he hoped that Mr. Cameron would keep in touch with his fellow-members of the service and afford them opportunities of drawing on that store of knowledge that he had accumulated during his long service.
Other speakers who paid a tribute to Mr. Cameron, both as a railway official and as a man, included Messrs. H. Valentine (Chief Accountant), G. H. Mackley (Chief Clerk), P. G. Roussell (Superintendent of Transportation), J. W. Reay (Assistant District Traffic Manager), G. G. Stewart (Officer in Charge of the Publicity Branch), C. Harrington (in charge of the Locomotive Branch, Thorndon), R. Hampton (Secretary Railway Officers' Institute), W. Shierning (Transport Officer), W. H. Gill (Secretary Wellington Branch Railway Officers’ Institute), W. Marshall (representing the Commercial Branch), G. H. Fanzlow (representing the Refreshment Branch), F. G. Molesworth (representing the Amalgamated Society of Railway Servants), and others.
Replying, Mr. Cameron, who was greeted with loud applause, said that public speaking was to him an ordeal at any time, and it was more so on this occasion on account of the special circumstances. He could not claim to have earned all the encomiums which had been so generously given him, but he did appreciate the splendid send-off. In all his dealings, said Mr. Cameron, he had always endeavoured to merit the goodwill of his staff, and any success which the Wellington district might have achieved, and he must say that they had at least held their end up, was due to the co-operation of the staff. He keenly appreciated the gifts and the goodwill which they carried with them.
Very enjoyable musical items were given by the Melody Four—Messrs. R. S. Alwright, S. Duncan, F. A. Bryant, and W. Marshall—while Mr. W. H. Rennie was an able accompanist.
Just half way between Wellington and Auckland, Tongariro National Park gives the populations of these cities splendid facilities for open-air recreation. Formerly the preserve of the robust tramper and mountaineer, National Park is now easily available to everybody, because the new Chateau Tongariro, within twenty minutes by motor service from National Park Station, provides the most complete comfort in the wilds.
Two o'clock of a dull winter afternoon at Thorndon Station; midnight sitting before a log fire in “The Lodge” at National Park. Outside, a moonlit landscape, with “Christmas-tree” effects, for there was a lovely covering of clean crisp snow. This week-end rapid transportation was made possible by taking the Auckland express to National Park, and a short motor run to that fine heritage of the nation which is at last to be made fully available to all classes of New Zealanders. That it can be reached, either from Auckland or Wellington, so quickly and easily by rail, constitutes its greatest advantage. When the facilities at the Park are ready to cope with large numbers of people it is easy to forecast a remarkable week-end business. Train services will no doubt be re-cast to meet the demand, and thousands of busy people will be glad to take this chance of a holiday in the winter-time, when holiday opportunities are hard to find.
National Park has long attracted the more vigorous class of holiday-maker, prepared to “rough it,” and regarding that experience as part of the fun. For years they have enjoyed a monopoly of the many attractions of this wonderful area, with its remarkably varied sights. But there had to be a good deal of preliminary work. Arrangements had to be made to transport equipment to the huts, and then the visitors were thrown on their own resources. National Park was not exactly the place for a restful holiday. Many who knew it in those good old tramping days are regretting the transformation which will make it a conventional tourist centre, but that seems to be a selfish attitude. By the changes which have come about through the enterprise of the Tongariro Park Tourist Company, the pleasures of holidaying in this area are to be extended to every class in the community, whether they prefer to travel with chocolates and cushions, or just a ruck-sack.
There has been a wonderful transformation at the old Whakapapa hut site. The groups of huts and the central Lodge now fall into the background, for the dominating feature to-day is a magnificent building resembling a Georgian mansion. The site has been well picked, for it commands views of the wide plains with forest on the horizon, Ngauruhoe standing out clear from base to summit, and Ruapehu with its permanent snow-caps in the background. Chateau Tongariro, which is almost ready for guests, is an immense stride from the humble wooden huts, but it stands as a monument to the faith of the National Park Board and the lessees, in the possibilities of the Park when New Zealanders realise that they can live luxuriously in the wilds. There is nothing suggestive of the hotel type about the new Chateau. It stands just clear of the beautiful beech forest, and is so well designed that when the grounds are cleared of the present jumble of building material, Chateau Tongariro will fit nicely into the whole picture.
When it is formally opened, readers will learn from the newspapers a large number of facts about its structure—how many bricks and tons of cement it represents. Here may be given a few rapid impressions which come of a tour through the nearly completed building. First, the setting up of the main floor above the general level of the ground enables glorious views to be enjoyed without distractions of foreground detail. Whether this was a brilliant inspiration of the architect, Mr. H. Hall, of Timaru, or planned for the convenience of placing a boiler-house, a cafeteria, and many other useful appendages to a large establishment away from the main floor does not matter—the idea is a happy one. It has led to another notable feature, an inclined carriage-way to the main entrance, which is provided with an extensive colonnaded portico. When future guests reach the Chateau entrance they will discover, without leaving their cars, that the portico frames one of the most remarkable views to be obtained from any hotel entrance in the world, for it is set exactly in line with a vista of an active volcano. Framed by the pillars of the portico is a perfect view of Ngauruhoe, from base to smoking crater.
The public rooms are all planned on extremely spacious lines, and will enable the Chateau to cater easily for considerably more guests than will find accommodation in its ninety bedrooms. The main lounge, its plate-glass windows providing glorious views of the mountains and plains, has a floor area of 3,000 sq. feet, the centre finished in beautiful parquetry and “sprung” for dancing. Leading from the lounge is an equally spacious dining room, again providing wonderful views. Decorative effects are chaste, and not overdone. The walls of the lounge and dining-room are finished in old ivory, delicately gilded. There is a strong but effective note of colour contrast in the jade green patterned carpet of the dining room.
There are three storeys above the main floor, each having as the central feature a large writing lounge. The bedrooms have been planned to give a wide variety of accommodation, and the affluent tourist who desires a high degree of luxury will find his wishes have been anticipated. However, the Chateau has not by any means been built exclusively for rich patrons, but so cleverly has the plan been designed that there is not a “back bedroom” in the building. All rooms have a pleasant aspect, and all corridors are lighted from outside. There is electric light, of course, and one excellent lighting idea, which could only occur to people thoroughly experienced in hotel practice, is that ground lights, about a foot from the floor, illuminate the passages, so that the staff may carry out duties late or early without bright lights shining to the bedrooms through the fanlights. As there are 43 bathrooms, there should be no dressing-gown queues at the Chateau.
Every bedroom has a lavatory basin with hot and cold water, and the whole building is heated by a system of low-pressure steam radiators—at least one in every room. Again, an intimate knowledge of hotel conditions is displayed in the building of partitions solidly in hollow tiles, and floors of concrete, making for completely soundproof rooms.
One could fill a few pages with interesting details of the building, but something must be left for descriptive accounts when the opening ceremony arrives. To turn to out-of-doors, the first feature of interest in the front of the Chateau will be the 18-hole golf course, and putting green, all of which will be visible from the building. At the back will be a kind of “civic square,” where will be grouped prettily among the trees all the huts which have served mountaineers in the past, and a number of additional buildings accommodating at present the staff of over a hundred workmen which Messrs. Fletcher Bros. collected to make a quick job of the big contract.
In the mid-winter months, there is usually plenty of snow around the Chateau, but the best ski-ing ground is at Scoria Flat, an easy walk of an hour through a delightful beech forest.
In the summer, the attractions of the Park are widened, for with the long days, Ngauruhoe can be climbed and comfortably inspected—if it is not too active—in a day trip, while Ruapehu, approached over the snow slopes, will always be a particularly fascinating day's outing, with the crater lake at the southern end as the objective. Many shorter trips of real interest could be described, but this article is intended only as an introduction to a wonderful holiday centre, which for the first time in its history is being made comfortably accessible to everybody.
Railwaymen throughout New Zealand may well feel gratified with the splendid response to the appeal on behalf of Mr. George F. Kennedy, fitter at the Addington Railway Workshops, who, as the result of two unfortunate accidents, has been afflicted with total blindness.
“I thank you fellow-railwaymen and the public on behalf of my wife, my family, and myself for the magnificent practical sympathy shown me in my misfortune,” said Mr. Kennedy in accepting the title deeds of his now freehold home in Jeffreys Road, Bryndwr, Christchurch, and a cheque for £200. The mortgage on Mr. Kennedy's home was lifted and the cheque given by a fund to which the public and railwaymen all over New Zealand contributed.
Mr. Kennedy, who has a wife and family of three, lost the sight of both eyes last year after eight years’ service. One of his eyes was penetrated by a splinter from a steel pin. Mr. Kennedy, after having his eye removed, was back at work only five weeks before the bursting of a gauge glass on an engine severed the ball of his other eye, which also had to be removed. The Government granted him a compassionate allowance of £2,000. His workmates and three men representing the public carried through an energetic canvass for funds. Helped by railwaymen from all over New Zealand, the fund rose to £1,109 18s. 9d. With this amount the committee in charge paid off the £794 mortgage on Mr. Kennedy's house, and arranged to carry out some necessary improvements, after which there will be a credit balance in the fund of £200.
The appointment of Mr. M. Dennehy, Law Officer of the Railway Department, to be Assistant General Manager of Railways was announced by the Hon. W. B. Taverner (Minister of Railways) on the 15th August.
Mr. Dennehy, in his position of Law Officer, was also in charge of the Lands Branch of the Department. During the General Manager's recent visit to Australia he was in charge of the administrative affairs of the Department. In the course of his service as Law Officer, he came closely into contact with the transport problems of the Department, which have loomed so largely in its affairs during recent years. He was engaged on the lands side of the Department's business at the time when large areas were taken over by the Department for extensions of the service, particularly at Auckland and Christchurch. Mr. Dennehy was a member of the Superannuation Fund Board for some years, being later appointed secretary of the Board. His connection with staff matters is somewhat unique. He was actively connected with the Railway Officers' Institute during fifteen years, and the last position he occupied in it was that of president. He was the officers’ representative on some of the principal boards which considered the questions of salaries and working conditions in the Railways, namely, the inquiry conducted by Mr. Justice (now Sir Walter) Stringer in 1919, and also that conducted by Mr. (now Sir George) Elliot.
Mr. Dennehy's close association with staff questions has thus proved, and will continue to prove, of great value to the Department. As Law Officer, practically all the Department's problems passed through his hands. This position has become more important recently, owing to the development of such phases of railway activity as the through booking of passengers and goods, and road transport. All these new activities called for legal guidance as to the powers and authorities vested in a State Department in relation to the general transport question. It is interesting to note that the present General Manager (Mr. H. H. Sterling) at one time occupied the position of Law Officer for the Department. It is generally recognised that study and knowledge of the law assist towards the development of that breadth of vision so necessary in dealing with the large issues of present-day business enterprise. In this respect Mr. Dennehy's long period of training has developed capacities and qualifications that specially suit him for the work in hand. He joined the service as a cadet in 1891, at Christchurch, and was stationed at Waipawa, Waipukurau, Invercargill, Wellington, and Wanganui. In 1915 he was promoted to the Department's Lands Branch in Wellington, and two years later was appointed assistant Land Officer for the Department, a position which he occupied until 1921. After serving as Land Officer for three years he was promoted to the position of Law Officer, a post which he has held until the present time.
In his current contribution our Special London Correspondent reviews recent railway developments in Britain and on the Continent, and gives some interesting particulars of the luxurious accommodation now placed at the disposal of holiday excursionists on the Home railways.
Summer holiday travel on an exceptionally big scale is this year being catered for by the railways of the Homeland. July, August and September are the months most favoured by the vacationist, and at this season family travel to the seaside looms large on every route. Cheap fares, fast and frequent train services, and, above all, the provision of most luxurious passenger accommodation, are features of this year's summer holiday programme. There probably never was a time when the holiday-maker was afforded such a wide choice of luxury accommodation as is the case to-day. To every resort of note, corridor, saloon and Pullman coaches are being operated, and it is now actually possible for the Londoner to make a day or even a half-day trip to the seaside and back by luxurious Pullman trains of a type hitherto reserved for the exclusive use of the traveller by the expensive “limited” services.
In this enterprising introduction of the Pullman car into excursion service a lead has been set by the L. and N. E. line. This system has embarked upon a great many Pullman services since the conclusion of the Great War, and these luxury services have proved most popular and remunerative. Pullman cars were, of course, first introduced on the American railways by George Mortimer Pullman, the Chicago coach-builder. The British Pullman organisation, established in 1874, is quite distinct from the American undertaking, and it is by arrangement with the Pullman Car Company of England that the Home railways now offer these luxurious cars to the public. The Southern Railway, or rather the various component parts of this railway prior to grouping, were the pioneers of the Pullman in Britain. The world-famous “Southern Belle” Pullman Limited between London and Brighton, introduced twenty years ago, was the embryo out of which have sprung the innumerable Pullman services which to-day are placed at the disposal of the traveller over the Home railways.
One million eight hundred thousand passengers are conveyed annually by Pullman service in Great Britain. Apart from the “Southern Belle” service, the Southern Railway operates Pullman cars between London and Hastings, Eastbourne, Portsmouth, Ramsgate, and other holiday resorts, while an outstanding Pullman service is that between London and Dover, Folkestone and Newhaven, in connection with the Continental boat sailings. The “Golden Arrow Pullman,” between London and Dover, is one of the world's most famous trains, and it is operated in connection with the special limited Pullman train run by the Northern Railway of France between Calais and Paris. On the L. and N.E. line, luxury travel is provided by the “Queen of Scots” Pullman between London (King's Cross) and Glasgow, via Harrogate, Newcastle and Edinburgh; and the Pullman limited trains operated between London and Leeds, and London and Harwich. There is a complete service of Pullman trains
In seeking to attract the holiday-maker to the railway, the advertising departments of the Home railways have conducted most ambitious publicity campaigns during the past few months.
Railway advertising has reached an exceptionally high standard at Home, and some of the posters now utilised on the station bill-boards and public hoardings are really very fine works of art. Recently a poster exhibition held in London by the L. and N.E. Railway afforded the general public an opportunity of inspecting, at close quarters, many of these gems of the poster producer's art. Attractive landscapes, marine studies and humorous works, all are pressed into service to draw the passenger to the rail route, and many novel methods of display are to-day followed by the leading railways. On the Southern line a new scheme for utilising advertising space at stations has recently been introduced. This plan includes the use of “banner” boards erected outside all the principal stations, on which are placed every month, specially-written sales posters directing attention to some specific attraction or facility which it is desired to accentuate. This may be a cheap trip to London, a new guide book, and so on, the essence of the scheme being that each poster is drawn up in particular relation to the district in which it is displayed. In addition, about 250 picked sites on platforms have been selected at points where passengers congregate, and on these sites have been erected special 4-sheet boards with an enamel plate heading “S.R. Monthly Bulletin.” On these boards there is displayed every month a fresh message to the public, penned on intimate lines. At points where country railway stations are situated off the main road, and are approached by a smaller road, small boards have been placed at the junction of the two roads, having a blackboard with a glass front. On the blackboard there are filled in with chalk, details concerning train services, excursions, and the like, of local interest. One of the greatest advantages enjoyed by the small road carrier is that he is in the closest touch with the local population
While the Home railways are endeavouring to retain business to rail, they are also setting out on a big scale as road carriers. As month succeeds month, the number of motor omnibuses operated by the Home railways increases, and fresh agreements are being reached for joint operation with leading firms of road carriers. As yet, Britain cannot boast of any railway-owned coach stations such as are operated by certain of the American railways, for example, the enormous Forty-second Street Depot of the Baltimore and Ohio Railway, in New York City. By degrees, however, a network of railway-owned road services is being built up throughout Britain, and the closest co-ordination is aimed at between rail and road. As a matter of fact, road transport was indulged in by the Home railways long before the menace of road competition was dreamt of. The Great Western Company was a pioneer of railway-owned motor services, its road transport department having been originally established a quarter of a century ago. The first road service to be operated was that between Helston and the Lizard, in Cornwall. To-day, the Great Western Railway operates sixty-two passenger services by road, the route mileage covered totalling 1,600. In a single year as many as 10,000,000 passengers are conveyed by these road services, and now that working partnerships are being concluded with outside road transport undertakings, the carryings by road vehicles operated by the Great Western Railway will materially increase. Road transport for both passenger and freight has definitely come to stay, and there is no agency better equipped to handle road business than the railway.
In the London area there have recently been opened out two new freight depots which promise to be of the greatest utility in the speeding up of merchandise handling. One of these stations is the Paddington depot of the Great Western, and the other the East Smithfield terminal
Germany, Austria, and the other central European lands, are making real progress in railway development these days, and the success which is attending the recently favoured arrangement of operating most of the central European railway systems as State concerns, run on essentially commercial lines, is most marked. In Austria the Federal Railways were placed upon a commercial basis with a view to putting them on a sound financial footing. The result has been most striking. Under the old arrangement in 1923 there was a deficit on railway operation of about £1,792,684. In 1927 the financial results showed a surplus of about £4,500 in favour of the railway management, so marked were the improved working methods introduced in the new regime. Austria, by the way, is fast developing a nation-wide electric railway system second to none in Europe. Since 1920 some 390 miles of track have been electrified, one of the most notable achievements being the conversion to electric traction of the mountainous Innsbruck-Arlberg route in the Austrian Tyrol. The Austrian Government Railways are some 3,650 miles in length, and in view of the strategical position occupied by Austria as the centre of Europe, the railways of the land play a big part in international transport across the Continent.
Most visitors to our Geyserland region confine their travels to a few well-beaten routes. In the thermal country extending from Rotorua for a hundred miles southward there are places of wonder and beauty, still in their primitive state, which are scarcely known at all to tourists. Such a place is the Orakei-Korako Valley described in the following article.
Forty or fifty years ago the geyser valley of Orakei-Korako, on the Upper Waikato, was better known and more visited than it is today. There was a time when it was on a regular route of travel between Rotorua and Taupo. Now-a-days there are so many other places of interest accessible from Rotorua that this strange and beautiful ravine, pitted with hot springs and painted in vivid hues by thermal action, is not seen by the multitude who go to Geyserland. But its day will come again, and then maybe it will eclipse in fame some now popular scenes in the hundred-miles length of the Wai-ariki country.
Orakei-Korako is in the valley of the Waikato where it flows from the pumice plains north of Taupo into a mountain-girt region that extends nearly to Atiamuri. It is in that area between the two bridges on the Rotorua-Taupo roads, the one at Ohaki and the other at Atiamuri. Once there was a good-sized Maori village there, and visitors were put up in a large guest-house, a carved wharepuni. The place is now deserted except for the Maori guide and canoe ferryman. When its attractions become known as they should, no doubt there will be hotel accommodation there, but that time is not yet. Not only is the hot-spring valley worth the seeing, but the route from Atiamuri is, in my opinion, the finest in point of bold and craggy scenery and furious water-play in all the Rotorua-Taupo thermal zone.
You have the choice of two ways to this valley of strange sights. There is the track from the Waiotapu side by way of Paeroa hills and thermal springs to the east side of the Waikato. This was the old horseback trail in the days when Orakei-Korako was inhabited and was visited by many travellers. By this way the Alum Cave and the silica terraces are seen before the tourist crosses the river; the only ferry is a canoe, with old-timer Rameka paddling it. The other road is a much easier one, the through route from Atiamuri to Taupo or vice versa, an alternative road to the usual motor route through Oruanui and over the Tuahu range. This road, only a horse track when I first travelled it, follows the Waikato River for many miles, in fact nearly all the way between Atiamuri and Orakei-Korako—ten or eleven miles—one is alongside the river.
From Atiamuri to Taupo by the Orakei-Korako route is about 31 miles, making the total distance from Rotorua to Taupo 59 miles. This is a few miles longer than the present road via Waiotapu, but the greater distance is more than compensated for by the unusual landscapes. The main road from Atiamuri to Taupo has little interest for the traveller, beyond the fact that some small native villages are passed en route, until Wairakei is reached. It is eight miles from Orakei-Korako southward to the main road, thence 13 miles to Taupo via Wairakei.
Leaving Atiamuri, the Orakei-Korako road diverges to the left and skirts the banks of the Waikato River. At two miles is Te Niho-o-te-Kiore (“Rat's Tooth”), where the road passes close by the ruins of the redoubt built by the Armed Constabulary at the time of the last Maori war, 1869–71, to guard the river and prevent the Hauhau leader, Te Kooti, from crossing the Waikato. Flax and fern soften the outlines of the old fort, and give an air of antiquity to the parapet and deep trenches. The earth works on this hill top above the river command a prospect for many miles. The hillside slopes steeply down to the Waikato, where weeping-willows indicate the site of an old kainga, long since deserted. On the opposite side of the dark-blue river a wreath of steam curling slowly from the waterside indicates a boiling spring. On our side of the river (the left or western) there are also some hot bathing springs, now seldom visited. Passing the old redoubt we observe that its eastern side
At about three miles from Atiamuri we pass close to the Aniwhaniwha (“Rainbow”) Fall and rapids. Just above the cataract the Waikato flows round a sweeping bend, dark, smooth and deep, and impressing one with a profound sense of power. A rough path leads down to the very edge. Suddenly the glassy surface of the river is transformed into a madly-rushing torrent. The Waikato here is two hundred yards wide, fringed by fairly low banks, covered with flax bushes, fern and manuka. The bed of the river suddenly falls some thirty feet, just where a green islet divides its waters. Smoothly and swiftly the waters glide down an incline plane until they strike the island and its satellite rocks, and then the turmoil begins. The river breaks into a series of wildly foaming rapids, dashing furiously with thunderous roaring over the black rocks which protrude from the river-bed, and whirling down into a milky-white whirlpool. The mad waters rush from one side to the other, beating and roaring against the rock walls, but ever hurled back again into the fury of the fall. Clouds of spray rise high in the air; and when the sun is shining rainbows arch the falls.
A little way above the Aniwhaniwha the Waikato Valley becomes a gorge. Igneous rocks, torn and fused and fashioned in a multitude of curious forms, rise all around, become mountains. The cliff road is regularly marked for chains as with the scratches of some giant fingers—to the imaginative aboriginal perchance the talon-marks of the grim ogress Kurangaituku, who once haunted these parts. The scratches, however, are but the marks of the picks of the nimble co-operative navvies who cut out this rocky pass. In some of the wilder places an outer protecting wall several feet high has been built up of rough blocks of stone, on the verge of the precipice, the Waikato far below.
The noise of many waters is heard again, and presently we see more cataracts and rapids. These are the Haere-huka and Whakaheke. At the Whakaheke, about a mile below Orakei-Korako, in the middle of the river are two small islands, exquisitely green; they are covered with small trees and flax. These spray-bathed islets are apparently old-time slips from the steep hillsides above, which have partly dammed up the river, and so formed the rapids. On the larger of the islets, called Te Rewarewa, there was formerly a fortified pa, to which the people resorted for refuge in war time. It must have been sore straits that compelled them to cross those foaming waters.
Here, on the green banks overlooking the well-named Haere-huka—“Moving Foam,” or “Flying Foam”—we may pull up awhile and listen to the poetic story of its naming, and learn how yon great black rock there, smoothly-rounded by centuries of water-play, gave fresh courage, an omen and an inspiration, to the heart of a weary and all-but broken man. The rock is in the midst of the wildest part of the rapid, near the left bank of the river. Around its glistening dark head the mad river surges ceaselessly; spray bathes it ever; sometimes the angry little waves dash right over it and hide it from view for a moment. But it always emerges, the embodiment of eternal stability, in that turmoil of waters. This is the rock that gave its name to the rapids.
Just a hundred years ago a war-party from Rotorua camped on this spot one night, and gazed on the wonderful picture of river and rock and mountain in the summer moonlight. The
hapu of the Arawa) by Harakeke of Taupo. This man had won the affections of Taua's wife when he was on a visit to Rotorua. The fickle lady ran off to Taupo with Harakeke.
Taua sent round the fiery cross, or its Maori equivalent, among the Arawa clans, and raised a war-party to exact utu for his wrongs. He and his company of musketeers and tomahawk-men came upon a Taupo war-band camped in a valley some distance south of Orakei-Korako. The battle that followed went in Taua's favour for a time, but in the end he was beaten off and forced to retreat, and here in the gorge of resounding waters he made camp. Over-whelmed at the loss of their friends, the Arawa men in the council of war that night proposed to retreat to Rotorua and obtain reinforcements before renewing the war.
Not so Taua. He knelt by the side of the river, his spear-tongued taiaha weapon in front of him, stuck lightly in the ground and slanting against his shoulder, both his hands clasped on it. While the others were speaking he remained silently gazing at the dark rock in mid-stream over which the waters fiercely raged; sometimes its head was covered with spray and then it reappeared black and firm-set, glistening in the moonlight. Warrior after warrior arose by Marama's bright beams and urged Taua to return to Rotorua.
At last Taua rose to reply. His taiaha in his hand, he strode back and forth. Pointing to the rock in the midst of the rapids, he drew a lesson of good omen from it. “I have taken courage from that toka in the rushing waters and the flying foam. I am like that rock now; nothing will turn me back. Your arguments flow over me as the waters flow over that rock. Let us attack our foes again without delay. We shall triumph as surely as that rock stands victorious amidst the raging waters of Waikato!”
Taua's speech carried all before it. His followers became animated with his forceful and heroic spirit.
“Yes,” said the warriors, “let us strike the foe again! This time we shall be the conquerors!”
Long before daylight next morning the war-party was on its march southward again through Orakei-Korako. The warriors reached a deep valley on the old trail from Orakei-Korako to Taupo, a mile or two before it joins the present Atiamuri-Taupo motor road at the “height of land.”
Here at dawn they fell on their unsuspecting enemies. The Arawa were victorious this time and Taua avenged his wrongs; the utu was complete, and he returned to his Rotorua home satisfied.
And in memory of that moonlight night by Waikato side and the rock of inspiration, Taua took the name Haere-huka, and the place, too, is known by that name to-day. Haere-huka is preserved as a family name; it will never be forgotten. My old tohunga friend Taua Tutanekai Haere-huka is the grandson of the Taua of that story.
The landscapes here have a wildness, a rocky grandeur, that will some day make the Orakei-Korako gorge road a famous travel track. The craggy hills bear huge pikaus of rhyolite on their shoulders, and their sides are scarred and shattered by the volcanic forces of past ages. One could well quote from “The Lady of the Lake” an exact description of part of this road, as rugged as anything in Scott's country:
Far more wonderful, though, this Waikato river-pass scene than all the scenes of the Scottish High-lands, for, see, up the valley yonder there rise soft curling clouds, snowy white against the dark green vegetation and the darker rocks; the steam clouds from the geysers and fumaroles that pit both sides of the swift-rolling Waikato.
Up there the whole valley is alive, simmering, bubbling, thumping with thermal action. The boiling springs extend for over an area about a mile in length; much of this is dangerous to explore. Many of the hissing fissures and plopping mud-pools are not accessible; which is just as well; there are quite enough of them to be seen in and around the old kainga where the delicious bathing waters issue from the papa-kohatu, amongst the flowering aromatic manuka.
The strong river rolling through the gorge, to break in furious rapids lower down; the silica-terrace-whitened banks, and the smoke-like jets and clouds of steam from the boiling springs, compose perhaps the strangest picture to be seen in the Thermal Regions of ours. It is still in its wild state everywhere here; no bridge spans the great river, no hotel and no smartly decorative bath-houses jar on our sense of the artistic—Nature's tameless artistry—however much they would promote our comfort. Orakei-Korako still awaits the touch of civilised development.
A great geyser called Rahurahu was once the most wonderful sight at Orakei-Korako. It is said to have thrown its boiling water to a height of a hundred feet or more. It has moderated its pace these days; but a geyser has many moods and it may become the most furious puia at any moment. Here are little geysers thumping and splashing away quite close to the hurrying waters of Waikato. There is a delicious bathing pool, or series of pools, supplied by an intermittent geyser on the papa-kohatu. The water is similar to that of the Rachel bath at the Rotorua Sanatorium and the Oil Bath at Whakarewarewa. It is soft and silky to the skin, the most pleasant bath that can possibly be imagined, grateful indeed to one's weary body after a long ride or walk. To cool the hot waters to the right bathing temperature use is made of a convenient brooklet of cold water running down through the Manuka bushes close by.
The principal clear warm bathing pool is the place from which Orakei-Korako derives its name, which means the place of adorning; it was the looking-glass water at which the people made themselves pretty for parade, the open-air “making-up” room in fact. “O” is the place of; “rakei” adornment; “Korako,” meaning white, describes the glittering silica flat. Here the
(kokowai) and otherwise beautify themselves for social gathering or war-dance.
Dr. Hochstetter, the geologist who visited New Zealand in the Austrian frigate Novara seventy years ago, visited Orakei-Korako in 1860, and recorded the fact that there were seventy-six geysers and boiling springs.
On the opposite side of the river (the right or eastern) to the site of the old kainga and the principal springs, there are the most beautiful of the features of thermal action. These are the white silica terrace, the pyramidal bank of geysers, and the Alum Cave. There are glistening sinter slopes over which hot water flows, and there is a pink papa-kowhatu of silica below its maker, an ever-boiling spring called “Te Purewa's Throat.”
The White Terrace is about seventy feet in length, a wall like coral lace, with hot water flowing over it from small geysers. Mr. Geo. F. Allen, the veteran surveyor, who has made a more careful examination than any other visitor of the phenomena on this eastern bank, describes in detail that pretty spectacle, the “Pyramid of Geysers.” “At the foot of a dark purple cliff,” he says, “is a pyramidal bank of many-coloured earths, which contains eighteen or twenty small geysers or fumaroles. It is perhaps 30 feet high with a base of 30ft. or 40ft.
The earths of which it is composed are of many brilliant colours, yellow and green prevailing; with streaks of orange and vermilion here and there picked out with pure white. From the glowing mass of bright colours the score of little geysers and steam jets toss up in incessant, but ever-changing motion. The brilliantly-tinted earths and the sparkling ngawha (boiling springs) are backed up y the dark cliff, which, by its contrast, enhances their beauty, just as a bracelet of gems shows best contrasted with the purple velvet of its case.”
Then there is that fairy-like grotto, the Alum Cave—it deserves a more picturesque name. Blocks of pure alum lie scattered about the floor. The cave widens out to about forty feet, with a height at the maximum of perhaps sixty feet. In the depths somewhere is a ngawha. Mr. P. McLean, of Napier, who visited the Alum Cave in the ‘Eighties, made note of the fact that the best time to enter the place is when the sun is in the western sky, opposite the entrance. “Then it shines with modified light through the shade of the waving fern leaves, and dances and glitters along the frescoed roof that has not its equal in Fairyland. Red, mauve, brown, grey, white, black and green of all shades blend together all along the roof and back and sides in a harmony reached only by the efforts of nature, and reflect their ever-changing perfections upon the surface of a beautiful pool of perfectly clear green water at the farthest recess of the cave.”
Sixty years ago, coal, the product that was to make the West Coast famous, was discovered at Runanga. The honour of the first find went to the late Mr. H. McKenzie who arrived in the district in 1867.
Following upon his discovery (in 1868), a prospecting license over 1,000 acres was granted in 1871 to a small company formed at Greymouth.
In 1874, the property was taken over by a larger company of Greymouth business men who carried out extensive surveys. In 1888, the late Mr. McDougall, of Wellington, proceeded to England and there succeeded in floating a stronger company to develop the property.
Meanwhile the construction of the railway line and the bridge across the Grey River to give access to the coal field were started in 1893, but, owing to certain conditions, the company did not comply with the stipulations of the lease, which was cancelled. The Government subsequently took over the property, completed the various works, and opened the mine in the interest of the State.
Subject, of course, to that doubtful factor, the weather, a trip over this line, from Greymouth to Rewanui, a distance of a little over eight miles, is one of considerable interest.
Where the line diverges at the Grey bridge it will be observed that the mountain side has been cut away to make room for the railway, leaving a high wall of rugged rocks, which forms a protection for the main highway crossing the mountain above.
Under this rough projection of rocks is a large cave in the mountain side. As the train proceeds the traveller is greeted with magnificent vistas of bush scenery and high mountains reaching from Cobden to Seven Mile Beach, Point Elizabeth.
The construction of a deep-sea harbour at the latter point, in order to remove the handicap of the Grey bar, is still discussed periodically, and it appears to be conceded generally that the scheme is feasible. However, the enormous cost proves the stumbling block, and the matter is shelved and the deep-sea harbour scheme is still no nearer realisation. In this connection it is interesting to recall the long list of vessels wrecked on the Grey Bar since 1863. They are: The “Gipsy” (1863) (north beach), “Eleanor” (1865), “Swan” and “Excelsior” (1866), “Harriet” (1867) (south beach), “Jane Elkin” and “Cymare,” “Louisa,” and “Pat the Rover” (1868), “Bruce” (1869) (south beach), “Pearl,” “Constant” and “Lioness” (1882) (north tip), “Queen of the South” (1884) (south tip), s.s. “Wallace” (1885), s.s. “Gerda” (1888), “Thursa” (1895), s.s. “Hesketh” (1899), s.s. “Taupo” (1900), s.s. “Hawera” (1908), “Lauderdale” (1910). In more recent years the steamers “Kotuku,” “Opuri,” “Perth” and “Ngahere” have also become total wrecks.
But to proceed with our story.
Runanga, which is reached shortly after leaving Greymouth, is a picturesque little village with a population of about 2,000, An up-to-date miners’ hall and picture palace, a large co-operative
In order to obtain a better position as a stopping place for the trains on the main line to Rewanui and the branch line to Rapahoe, the Runanga Railway station was shifted from its old site, where it faced the town, and made into an island station facing towards Greymouth.
As the train proceeds on its journey from Runanga towards Dunollie, the traveller is interested in the beautiful king ferns, toi-toi and cabbage trees, which grow in great profusion along the railway line. Dunollie is a busy coal-mining settlement there being ten co-operative parties of miners employed in its mines. The output of coal runs into thousands of tons per annum, and train loads are hauled away daily in hoppers from the bins, to be delivered to the consumers. Owing to the height of the mines and their distance from the bins, a considerable amount of work and expense has been entailed in bringing them into operation. Some of the tracks to the mines have had to be formed by cutting away dense bush up the mountain side to a height of one thousand feet. Down these tracks the full trucks of coal are lowered on rails by means of wire ropes, the empty trucks being hauled to the top, simultaneously, on an adjacent track.
Some of the co-operative parties use electric power for haulage purposes. There are four parties near Dunollie yard, five more a quarter of a mile further on, and another one near the first tunnel. One of the parties, owing to the difficulty of putting in a siding, has to make arrangements for a special train to bring the coal down.
The train journey from Dunollie to Rewanui takes the traveller through country of great interest and variety of scene. The high mountain, covered with dense bush, the narrow valley through which the train climbs, the rock-bound cliff with tall trees overhanging, and streaks of coal showing on its surface, and, far below, the river, all hold the attention.
A centre-rail system of railway track provides for safe train journey through this narrow valley of jutting rocks.
By those who would enjoy a pleasant walk down the incline from Rewanui to Dunollie, the distance a little over three miles, could be covered comfortably in an hour. In the course of this walk ample opportunity is presented for taking photographs of scenes of rare beauty and charm, for here Nature wears her finest robes.
That the new station building at Auckland is now taking definite shape will be seen from the photograph below.
The massive steel framework is completed, and from it can be gained some conception of the impressive from and dimensions of the finished structure.
The white platform in front of the building is the elevated carriage way, which will be connected with Beach Road by ramped approaches, one of which can be seen on the left. Beneath the carriage way are the extensive luggage and baggage rooms, extending back under the main building.
The great booking hall, surmounted by a series of light roof trusses, can be seen in the middle of the framework, while the various offices extend in three storeys on either side of it.
To the right of the picture can be seen the new high level embankment connecting with the line to Newmarket.
The foreground, at present occupied by the main lines and carriage sidings, will be laid out as an extensive plaza with grass plots and gardens surmounted by a central flag pole.
Stretching into the distance to the right are the new train platforms, with their “butterfly” type reinforced concrete verandahs. These are an outstanding feature of the layout, and form a fine example of what can be done with reinforced concrete under skilful treatment.
The various platforms are connected to the main station by ramps and subways for both passengers and luggage.
The site of the new station is entirely on land that has been reclaimed from Auckland Harbour. This has necessitated very heavy piling, not only under the building itself, but under all retaining walls and platform verandahs. About 700 piles, ranging in length up to 70ft. have been driven.
The facade of the building will be in brick, with terra cotta embellishments, and the basement will be faced with New Zealand granite. The main feature of the front exterior is a grouping of three massive arches with windows set in solid bronze. The same feature is repeated within the booking hall, which is of spacious dimensions, being 110ft. by 40ft., with a ceiling height of 50ft.
It is aimed to have the building replete with all modern conveniences, and electrician and plumbers are busy with the reticulation of the building for hot water, steam, lighting, power, telephone and clock systems.
The new station will function not only as a railway terminal but as a high-class modern hotel, except for the absence of sleeping accommodation.
There will be lounges, rest rooms, bath and dressing rooms, toilet facilities, also dining, afternoon tea and coffee rooms, while shops will supply the eleventh hour needs of travellers.
The contractors, Messrs. J. T. Julian and Sons, are making good progress, and it is confidently expected that the station will be available for public use close to schedule time.
Railway systems, along with others, are not quite free from the possibility of error. Ours is nearly so. But there have been amusing errors in the past. The following is vouched for as a correct statement of an incident which occurred on the Otago section of our railways many years ago.
Some readers may remember Mark Twain's story about Jim Blaine and his grandfather's wonderful ram. The following story begins about a ram, though there was, in the opinion of others than the owner, nothing wonderful about it; but from this difference of opinion sprang the current of events which caused the railway staff in Dunedin some anxious moments.
Farmer Watt, of Manuka, exhibited some stock at the local Agricultural Show, but the ram, which he had expected to be adjudged first and champion, was not even mentioned in the prize list. A few days later farmer MacBeth, the County Chairman, was met by farmer Watt, who complained of the state of the roads adjoining his property. Incidentally, he commented on what he considered to be an unfortunate choice of a judge for the sheep classes at the Show. Now farmer MacBeth was one of the stewards at the Show and he warmly defended the choice and the decisions. Finally farmer Watt summed up his arguments thus: “Well, he's no judge of sheep anyhow, and you're no judge of sheep either if you agree with him; and as to the road, it is about the worst in the county.”
“Maybe, maybe,” replied farmer MacBeth, “but there is one improvement that can be made right away, and that is to clear the gorse off it. That fence of yours is fifty feet wide. The clerk will send you notice at once.”
So farmer Watt, in spite of his remonstrances, had to cut the gorse, but, before he had cleared it away, a heavy rain storm washed it down the creek, causing the culvert under the railway to become blocked. A railway ganger named Watson found the water backed up and threatening to breach the lines. In clearing the culvert he received a thorough soaking, but, being a conscientious worker, remained on duty to see the last train through his length, with the result that he contracted a severe cold.
There had been a big slip near Manuka, and, for the convenience of working trains while the block lasted, a telephone had been installed at the station. Owing to the possibility of further trouble in the way of slips the telephone was not removed, but, as it was not in service, it had received little, if any, attention as regards maintenance. The customers of the railway found this telephone extremely useful for ordering trucks and making enquires on railway business, and had come to regard ganger Watson as unofficial caretaker.
A drover by the name of Clark, on a recent journey to Burnside, had the misfortune to lame his horse, and was forced to leave it at Dunedin for treatment, and to hire a substitute from Berry's stables. When the injured horse was fit to be sent home it was forwarded by rail to Manuka. Clark met the train and informed the guard that he wanted the horsebox to send a horse to Dunedin that afternoon. Guard John Collie advised Clark to get ganger Watson, who was working near, to telephone
Alec Smart was a promising young railway guard who had received a good training at Dunedin, and had recently been posted to relieving work. He had what the Scots call “a guid conceit of himself.” He sometimes offered unsolicited advice to his elders out of the fullness of his knowledge, and occasionally was snubbed for his pains. This time he was fully determined to attend strictly to his own business, and let others solve their own worries. He was in charge of the afternoon train from Lawrence, and, on arrival at Manuka, found there a lad with a consignment note for a horse, but no consignor for the corpse he was instructed to lift. He asked the persons still on the platform, but could obtain no information. There were only two vehicles in the siding—the horsebox and a “K” truck, so he assumed the corpse must be in the latter. He opened the door and saw a long object like a coffin, covered with a tarpaulin. The absence of a consignment note was strange, but he had his order, and the person who gave the order must take the responsibility, so he took the “K” truck and the horsebox to Milton.
When he took his waybills to the office there, the clerk expressed his opinion of a guard who brought in loaded trucks without waybills or consignment notes for their contents; but Alec produced his order to lift, maintaining that that was sufficient for him—the accounting was not his business. He declined to part with the order, but suggested that the clerk make out a memo. waybill and insert, in place of the consignee's name, the words “By order of Traffic Inspector.” This was done, and Milton passed the truck on to Dunedin. When it arrived in Dunedin, no application was made for the corpse. It was Christmas Eve, and the parcels office staff were very busy, so the hour was fairly late before the clerk in charge thought of making enquiry. He telephoned various undertakers, but could get no information. The Traffic Inspector's office was closed, and he was unable to get in touch with any members of the staff. Finally, he abandoned his enquiries for the night, and sent a porter down to the loading bank to lock up the truck. The porter came back to say the truck had gone and the shunter knew nothing about it.
The yard foreman had had a busy day. The coal mines and the timber mills had rushed in extra supplies to last over the holidays; from the workshops there had been what was, by one officer, facetiously described as a “goal delivery” of the vehicles that had been imprisoned there for repair, and there was the last moment seating of wagons for holiday
So when Joe, coming back from the passenger yard, saw a “K” truck chalked conspicuously, “Hillside for repairs—leaky roof,” he added it to his rake, and took it to Hillside.
Next day (Christmas Day) as many of the staff as could be spared were off duty. The chief parcels clerk found on his desk a memo, waybill for a corpse, and attached to the waybill a note from the late-shift clerk, to the effect that the corpse was unclaimed and he was unable to find the consignee. The Traffic Inspector's clerk was called up, but all he could say was that Milton had advised there was a corpse to be lifted at Manuka and he had instructed Lawrence accordingly. Milton was interrogated, but the only information he could give was that the ganger at Manuka had sent a message that there was a corpse to be buried at Dunedin, and that it would be loaded for the afternoon train. There was no evening train on the Lawrence branch, so a man was despatched on a bicycle to Manuka, only to return with the report that ganger Watson had been granted sick leave and had gone away, it was believed, to Balclutha, for medical attention. Clark was not at home, and where he was no one knew. It was ascertained from Balclutha that Watson had been there, but no one knew his where-abouts. Enquiries seemed to have reached a dead end.
When the matter was reported to the station-master at Dunedin, he directed that the corpse be sent to an undertaker till the consignee could be found. It then transpired that the corpse was missing. There was no truck number on the memo. Waybill, but the guard's sheet showed “K” 873 lifted at Milton and put off at Dunedin. “K” 873 could not be found in the yard. The number-taker had no note of its going out, but thought it might have been used as an extra luggage van without his knowledge. Enquiries were sent off to terminal and junction stations, and guards’ sheets for outgoing trains were examined, but the truck could not be traced.
On Boxing Day the staff had plenty of other things to think about, but when the rush had subsided and the principal officers had foregathered in the evening to discuss the business of the day, and the plans for the morrow, the matter of the missing corpse was mentioned. The yard foreman recalled that he had sent some trucks to Hillside last thing on Christmas Eve, but so far as he could remember there was not a “K” truck among them. The Traffic Inspector said there was no such truck as “K” 873. It seemed as though another dead end had been reached.
Meantime, an irate farmer from Manuka was at Milton station using strong language about the Railway Department, because the manure he wanted for sowing his turnips, and which, he was advised, had been duly handed to the Railway had not yet arrived. A reference to Waitahuna showed that truck “K” 573, containing the manure, had been put off at Manuka in due course.
On the morning of 27th December, truck “K” 573 was found at Hillside containing ten sacks of superphosphate wrapped in a tarpaulin.
About the same hour, ganger Watson, then on his return journey, was advised that his presence was required. As a result of his statement, Milton reported to Dunedin—“Ganger states that there was no corpse from Manuka, should have been a horse.”
The puzzle was solved.
A new series of twenty oil-burning 2-10-4 type locomotives has been ordered from the Montreal Locomotive Works for service in passenger and goods traffic over the Rocky Mountain section of the Canadian Pacific Railway. The new engines are designed to develop a tractive effort of 78,0001bs.
Alone upon a river's bank serene An angler stood, and all around was green And looked it.
He waited till the evening sun grew dim, Then saw a fish—or else the fish saw him—And hooked it.
Proud as a cockerel with a crimson comb He took the fish—or else the story—home, And cooked it.
Recording angles hov'ring o'er his bed Weighed what he caught, weighed also what he said.
And booked it.
Lord Grimthorpe, who visited New Zealand last year and spent a pleasant time big game fishing in our famous northern waters, has, since his return to the Old Country, written in eulogistic terms of the tourist attractions of the Dominion. In a recent article in the “Yorkshire Post” he advises those of his readers who can, to avail themselves of any opportunity offering to pay a visit to “this lovely and hospitable corner of he Empire where people, climate, and sport all combine to make the visitors feel thoroughly at ease.”
“Four days out from Fiji,” he writes, “and the hills and inlets of New Zealand break upon the view. The entrance to the harbour of Auckland is beautiful. Deep blue sea, girt with wooded heights and innumerable bays and coves, and frowning Mount Rangitoto, standing sentinel over the scene, form an unforgettable picture.
Having arrived in Auckland, the ‘Queen City’ of New Zealand, the next thing to be decided upon by those whose intention it is to engage in the thrilling sport associated with big game fishing in New Zealand waters is how to reach Russell, the picturesque fishing headquarters. There are alternative routes. By coastal steamer—a journey which takes a night—or mainly by train, a journey which occupies a day and brings the traveller to Opua, the terminus of the railway, whence launches run direct to the fishing camp. For the scenic splendour alone of the journey a stranger to New Zealand would be well advised to travel by rail.
Arrangements may be made some weeks in advance with the New Zealand Deep Sea Angling for a launch and accommodation at Otehei Bay.
The launches used for this sport in the Dominion are about thirty feet long and decked over forward. They contain a cabin and an open cockpit aft. There are usually two revolving chairs, one forward and one in the cockpit. During fishing operations, the butt of the rod is fixed in a movable socket, fastened to the seat of the chair and the angler dons a sort of harness which hooks on to the rod and causes the strain of playing a fish to be taken by the muscles of the back. Thus, apart from reeling in and guiding the rod, no work is done by the arms.
There are many varieties of rods and reel on the market, all of which are more or less satisfactory, but so far none which could be considered perfect has as yet been designed. The general requirements are, however, for a stout rod of about seven feet in length, a geared reel with powerful check (9to fix on top of the rod, not underneath) which will carry about 400 yards of line. At the end of the line is about 30 feet of wire trace, holding a single hook, about the thickness of a prong of an ordinary fork, with a length of about three inches, and diameter of one inch.
Let me describe a typical day's fishing from the camp at Otehei Bay, Urupukapuka Island.
(This camp contains a large central building with verandah dining rooms, lounge, and bathrooms. Nearby are several neat wooden bungalows, each containing bedrooms.) It is a fine warm morning with a slight breeze, and a
Once clear of the Islands, one of our party stands in the bow of the launch keeping a sharp lookout for signs of fish on the surface, for often a fin or a tail may be seen. However, nothing is seen this morning, so our first object is to catch bait before taking up our position off Cape Brett.
We soon locate a school of kahawai, or small kingfish, making a great disturbance on the surface, and, letting out two hand lines, direct the launch through them. Two or three are soon caught and placed in a tank prepared for the purpose.
The next stopping place is left to the discretion of our expert boatman. The engine is stopped and the boat allowed to drift.
The kahawai, which is a fish not unlike the trout (weighing three pounds or more) is put on the hook, and one of us takes the forward chair, fixing the rod in the socket, letting out about ten fathoms of line, and holding the line over a finger. From the chair aft, another fisherman does the same.
Now is the time of anticipation. The mind is filled with a mixture of thoughts. Fears of losing a fish when hooked—doubts of being able to stick it out if the sea gets any rougher—excitement at the prospect of catching a world's record fish—and, after an hour or two, surmises that the fish we have heard of have gone to the South Pole.
However, to-day is to be a lucky day, and very soon a good strong tug is felt at the line. A shout of delight proclaims the fact, and the other fisherman reels in his line.
With all possible speed, the lucky angler throws out about ten fathoms of line, and while the slack of this is being taken up sets himself comfortably in the chair attaches the hook of his harness to the rod, drops the end of the rod on to the gunwale of the boat and prepares to strike. All the slack being taken up, he leans forward, grasping the rod firmly in both hands (bearing in mind to have the check on the reel full on) and hurls himself back. This he does at least twice to ensure that the fish is properly hooked. Meantime the boatman has started the engine, and is prepared for all emergencies. The fish hooked is a good fighter, and the next thing we know is that the line is running out at an incredible speed. The reel screams like a steam whistle. In a few seconds the fish has taken out 200 yards of line. Then goes another 100 yards, and the fortunate fisherman is beginning to wonder what will happen when all the line is run out. The strain ceases, and as the angler glances up he has time to see an immense blue and silver body come flying out of the water, turns a somersault ten feet in the air, and go in again head first. He now knows that he has on
The boatman now steers nearer the fish, and some line is reeled in. Suddenly there is another crash, and off goes the fish again. As a rule these fish go straight out to sea, and cases have been known of their taking a boat ten miles out before allowing themselves to be landed. The angler gradually establishes the mastery, and during quiet moments is able to pump the fish, that is, to lower the rod to the gunwale, hold the line, slowly lean back as far as the chair will allow, then drop the head of the rod quickly and reel in the slack. After the fish has run seven or eight times, and has broached (or leaped) perhaps ten times, two and three quarter hours have elapsed. At last the angler has the mako alongside, and the boatman gaffs him.
This is the type of fight put up in a greater or lesser degree by all the big fish in New Zealand waters. That the thrills and excitement of playing these monsters can hardly be equalled by any other sport may easily be imagined.
Zane Grey, the noted American author and fisherman, who has world wide experience in fishing, calls these waters ‘the fisherman's Eldorado.’ and that is not an exaggeration description.
But to return to the story of our anglers after their triumph. They continue to fish till evening, but without further fortune, although they see in the vicinity other anglers playing swordfish, and, to add to the interest and excitement of the day, see these monsters of the deep leaping and somersaulting in the air.
Back once more at Otehei Bay, the catch is officially weighed, and the fisherman turn in, well pleased with their day's work.
The expense involved to those engaging in this thrilling and health-giving sport is not prohibitive if shared between two or three, for a launch may be hired for about three pounds a day, plus petrol, and to share the delights of the chase, and the fun with a friend adds additional pleasures to the wonderful sport of big game fishing which New Zealand offers to the world.”
The people of Wellington and Manawatu were astonished at both the speedy comfort in travelling over the line and the beauty as well as the potentialities of the countryside. For a great part of the distance covered by the railway two solid forest walls flanked it with open cleared spaces about the stations. To the people of Wellington the opening of the line brought fresh vistas of beauty, new fields for commerce and added chances for settlers.
On November 29th., the first through train carried 500 passengers on an excursion from Wellington to Palmerston North, the 87 miles being covered in 4 hours 35 minutes. Palmerston banqueted its visitors in the Theatre Royal, and appropriate speeches were delivered. The practical operation of the line on a regular time-table commenced on December 1st., two trains running daily in each direction and connecting at Longburn with trains of the Government system.
From conversations with the last of the company directors it appears that the company did not expect ever to run a train. Their “job” was to build a line even at a loss. However as we have seen the Government had already found these hard headed and honest business men difficult to deal with. The Government did not seem inclined to take over the railway except as a bargain, and this would jeopardise the security of debenture holders and the English share-holders. Thus the Company still had a railway, but at what cost? The line was open but was not unencumbered. As already stated, creditors stood at £111,097 (most of this was due to the Colonial Bank at a high rate of interest) while coupons to the value of £14,000 were almost due and bills payable stood at £15,000. Already also it was seen that the rolling stock, both passenger and freight, was insufficient for special periods; it was also thought that capital could be very profitably expended in draining 15,000 acres of the Makerua swamp.
In their endeavours and plannings the directors were encouraged by the receipt of £3,258 as deposits from land sales and £16,845 as the net profit from the line, both before and after December 1st., 1886 equalling a return of 5.76% on the total cost of the railway (£831,961). The Board now asked for and received permission to sell 30,000 further shares, with the debentures complementary to them. The issue of new shares was quickly subscribed and the debentures all sold. Of the shares, 24,000 were taken in London and 6,000 in New Zealand. The debentures were sold at par. The money obtained was used to wipe out the last overdraft
The capital now consisted of £850,000 subscribed in £5 shares and £680,000 in debentures. This was the last charge in the capital of the Company until near the end when the total debenture stock was reduced out of accumulated reserves.
The staff of the Company were highly capable, remained loyal throughout, and gave good service. Mr. Higginson, the chief engineer who saved the Company over £20,000 in profits by completing the line ten months in advance of schedule, was awarded a bonus of six months salary, or its equivalent in land.
Here was a railway built by a company which had been floated and enthused by a merchant, a lawyer and a none too successful grocer. Later the grocer became general manager and showed the way a railway should be run, the indebtedness of the Company being diminished and reserves built up. Years after his decease in 1919, the Company he had controlled in its early struggles returned, in liquidation, £3 for every £1 share.
One of the chief factors which contributed towards the success of this railway was the attention given to the engines and rolling stock.
Many of the cars and wagons were built in the workshops of the Company from imported parts. Most of the new passenger and freight stock or materials came from the United States. The passenger cars had a great reputation for comfort.
Speaking of the lighting at the annual meeting in 1898 the Chairman (Mr. T. G. Macarthy) said: “I think that we can claim that our trains were the first in the Southern Hemisphere to which the principle of lighting by electricity has been successfully applied.” This was at a time when the Government railways were still experimenting with the “Pintsch Gas” system without mantles. In 1903 the cushioning of the second class cars was proceeded with and the same year all rolling stock was equipped with the latest type of quick-acting Westinghouse brake. The first dining car in New Zealand ran over this line in 1888. A six-coupled Vauclain compound engine, built by Baldwin, hauled, in 1896, a train estimated at 432 ½ tons from Long-burn to Paekakariki over a ruling grade of 1 in 100. Another hauled from Wellington to Johnsonville over a 1 in 36 grade a train of 160 tons 16 cwt. while a similar engine hauled 320 tons from Paekakariki to Wellington.
The Government engineers frequently inspected the railway in all its branches and their reports indicated a high standard of maintenance throughout and good provision for the future or the unexpected.
We notice in the report of the Company in 1889 the following phrases: “We have opened up a vast area of country for settlement, and have already located on the lands a large number of farmers, who with their families, are already converting the forest into grass lands, carrying large quantities of valuable stock. Through the facilities we have been able to offer, numbers of sawmills and flaxmills have been completed adjacent to our line, employing many hundreds of people and putting an end to any cry of unemployment within a hundred miles of the city.” Numerous writers in the press of that day echoed those sentiments, indicating the rapid transition from depression to prosperity when other districts had not reached the worst period of the “slump.”
Flax began to boom in the 1889–90 period. The story of the Makerua area reads like a fairy tale. When the line was just located toi-toi and Maori heads were the chief plants. One year after the advent of the railway embankments and drainage, flax appeared along the banks and quickly spread until the whole area was covered with it as the dominant growth. The tackling of the drainage of this important area was undertaken with true foresight. The Company set to work to cut outfall drains through the dunes and drift sand which had blocked up the river. As a result of the lowering of the water level thousands of acres on the edges of the swamp were made available, tramways were laid and the ground made available for the cutters.
In the annual report of 1890 the chairman (Mr. T. G. Macarthy) said that of lands allocated to the Company 45,573 acres had been sold to date for £78,594, but 8,955 acres had realised £22,999. This indicates the difference in qualities and values. Before the line was finished the land accounts were all too heavy on the debit side and too light on the credit side. Expenses of surveying, sub-dividing, advertising and roading tied up much capital needed for the line. After the opening of the line settlement proceeded apace, most of the fertile flat on slightly undulating land being taken up and profits made.
(To be continued in our next.)
It is the privilege of few besides authorised members of the Railway staff to take control of a locomotive with a train of loaded vehicles behind. Yet, if given the chance, few there are who would not care to avail themselves of a rare privilege of the kind—to experience the thrills of negotiating grade, curve, bridge and tunnel, to see the flash of signal lights on the road, and generally, to assume the responsibility of a locomotive driver. However, if one is fortunate enough to know the “bosses” of the “R.S.R.” the miniature railway at Auckland, one may realise a cherished dream of childhood—to drive a railway train.
I recently accepted an invitation to inspect the rolling-stock and track of this miniature railway and, in due time, presented myself at Headquarters, No. 24 Kimberley Road, Epsom, Auckland. The “R.S.R.” by the way, is a company unincorporated and unregistered, but strictly limited; limited as to the number of its shareholders and employees, and badly limited as to capital. To its ambition, however, there is no limit.
After the usual courtesies, I was taken downstairs, for there, in the basement, is Rapata Terminus, the most important station and what represents the metropolis. I do not propose to describe the township, though a very creditable township there is. I made straight for the railway station, but, finding it under reconstruction, established myself at a convenient point “up the yard” and from there obtained a distant view of the reconstruction work and portion of the township. Noticing a light train in the siding, I inquired from the “boss” when it was due to leave. “In a few minutes,” he replied, “but come round to the shunting yard at Stewartville suburb and see what is going on.” We moved off as suggested to Stewartville, where was a more elaborate yard than that at Rapata. The Stewartville station too, literally plastered with advertisements, was a more pretentious building. An engine shed with its white-washed pits, coal stage and water-tank, completed the equipment. In the sidings I noticed an abundance of rolling-stock, open and covered wagons, cattle and sheep trucks.
Being absorbed in inspection, I was startled to hear nearby the familiar “ting-ting” of the tablet signal announcing the departure of a train from some station. Glancing up the line I noticed the “stick” drop and presently heard the rumble of an approaching train. Round the bend she came, then up the straight and into the station in good style. It was the “local” from Rapata. A carriage, a couple of covered wagons, and a van of the type one occasionally sees on the Helensville line, comprised the train. The engine was D. 109, an old type, a representative of which one seldom sees on the larger railway system of the Dominion. “She is due to run down the main line presently with a ‘ballast,’“
“Now,” said the “boss,” when he had assembled the “ballast,” “you have driven many a loco. and you know all the points of the game. Go ahead, or rather go astern this time, as you must back out up the line again.” Since there was a whistle cord I pulled it, and much to my surprise “pop” went a whistle somewhere. Then observing that the lever was in reverse I opened the throttle and out backed the train—my train as I familiarly thought of her then. Away out over the distant points she went, and there, under instructions, I pulled her up, threw the lever over and opened up again. Off she went on the main line, taking the sharp incline which led through a tunnel out into the sunshine (or the rain as the case may be) and didn't she go, even with the throttle shut! “Here”! I shouted. “What the deuce?”
“Run your hand-brake down,” said the “boss,” and I hastened to obey, with a noticeably steadying effect upon my train. Nevertheless, she rattled through the tunnel, over a trestle bridge and away round to Bible Creek station, by which time I had regained my nerve sufficiently to pull my train up in creditable style at the platform. I left it there while I inspected the track. I was shown a “junction-to-be” from which a flying survey south had already been made; and I was shown the probable southern terminus. However, I gathered that the extension was not likely to be carried out until a substantial “loan” had been floated. So far, I have refrained from remarking on the scenery, relying on the accompanying illustrations to convey to the reader the excellence of its general appearance, but in my opinion it is the most pleasing feature of the whole system. It is so naturally New Zealand Railway scenery. While we were discussing the track and the scenery the “ballast” passed us on its way home, some of the staff having evidently decided that routine could not be indefinitely interrupted by visitors. Re-entering the basement I had a further look round Stewartville and expressed some curiosity as to the question of control. “It is all very well,” I remarked, “to control a train from this place as one can see almost any spot on the existing route, but what is going to
“That is easily answered,” said the “boss.” “Let me demonstrate. A passenger train has already been made up at the top station, and, in consideration of the importance which we attach to your visit, (I bowed) we are prepared to despatch it in advance of timetable. The officer in charge of Rapata will be instructed accordingly. Now watch what happens.” In a couple of minutes the tablet announced departure of the “passenger” from Rapata. Shortly afterwards another signal conveyed to Stewartville the instructions to “take over.” The “boss,” who was temporarily in charge at the last mentioned place and stationed at the “cab” at once threw his lever forward and assumed control of the train, announcing to Rapata immediately afterwards that he had done so. Rapata thereupon put his lever in mid position and “washed his hands” of further responsibility. The “passenger,” drawn by L. 266, a beautiful little model as I observed later, came through at a great pace and pulled up in due course at the railhead.
“Now,” explained the “boss,” “when our southern terminus is finished, Stewartville will retain control until the train gets almost out of the stationmaster's sight, whereupon he will signal the southern terminus to take over. There is no interruption of a train journey, although there is apportionment of control and responsibility.
I took my departure shortly afterwards, feeling that the combined responsibility of station-master, engine-driver, signalman, trackman and shunter, centred in one individual, might at times be something of a strain, even on a miniature railway.
We shall be carried at the rate of four hundred miles a day, with all the ease we now enjoy in a steamboat, but without the annoyance of sea sickness, or the danger of being burned or drowned!
It is certainly some consolation to those who are to be whirled at the rate of eighteen or twenty miles an hour, by means of a high pressure engine, to be told that they are in no danger of being seasick while on shore; that they are not to be scalded to death nor drowned by the bursting of the boilers, and that they need not mind being shot by the scattered fragments or dashed in pieces by the flying off, or breaking of a wheel. But with all these assurances, we should as soon expect the people of Woolwich suffer themselves to be fired off upon one of Congreve's ricochet rockets, as trust themselves to the mercy of such a machine going at such a rate.—Quarterly Review. London, 1825.
The social side of railway life at the Department's new workshops in the Hutt Valley has been advanced a further step by the formation of an Apprentices’ Club at the workshops. The club, the management of which has been placed in the hands of an enthusiastic committee of apprentices, with the apprentice instructor, Mr. G. Carter, as chairman, has been established to promote the educational and recreational interests of the apprentices, and to foster good fellowship amongst them. This is a splendid objective.
By way of launching the club officially, the committee recently arranged a most successful dance function, which was held in the commodious Social Hall at the workshops. This gathering was presided over by Mr. Walworth (Workshops Manager), who, in an appropriate speech of welcome to members and their friends, outlined the aims and purposes of the club and expressed the hope that it would long continue as a constructive social influence in the workshops. He read apologies for the unavoidable absence of Mr. G. S. Lynde (Chief Mechanical Engineer) and Mr. E. T. Spidy (Superintendent of Workshops), both of whom welcomed the formation of the club and expressed confidence that its educational and social activities would benefit the boys individually and collectively.
The Social Hall presented a pleasing spectacle. Beautifully decorated with coloured lights, flags, pot plants and flowers (with an added touch of colour provided by the pretty frocks of the ladies) and comfortably heated by means of electric radiators, the setting for the inaugural function was all that could be desired.
The musical side of the arrangements was another feature that enhanced the interest and pleasure of the evening, the vocal items rendered by Messrs. Christensen and De Faur, and the instrumental music provided by the orchestra formed of members of the workshop's staff, under the leadership of Mr. A. E. Clark, being distinctly creditable. Mention must be made, too, of the excellent supper served most efficiently by members of the workshops dining room staff, and to the able manner in which Mr. McFarlane carried out the duties of Master of Ceremonies at this the first social gathering of the club.
(From Our London Correspondent.)
On account of the distance separating the two lands, New Zealand railwaymen cannot, unfortunately make the trip to the Homeland as often as might be desired. Now and again, however, some fortunate individual finds his way to London town, and religiously “does” all the sights of the metropolis, paying particular attention to any item of railway interest. Apart from the better-known show places, there is one side-trip which might very well be commended to the attention of visiting railwaymen, and this is a pilgrimage to the Railway Museum established at York by the L. and N.E. line. Many of the old Homeland railway locomotives, and much ancient equipment, is housed in the Science Museum at South Kensington, London. The York Museum, however, probably possesses an even finer collection of historic engines and Railway relics, and is a veritable treasure-house of Railway history. Old locomotives occupying a place of honour at York include George Stephenson's Hetton Colliery engine of 1822, a Stirling single-wheeler built at Doncaster in 1870, and the daffodil-painted locomotive “Gladstone,” once run on the old London, Brighton and South Coast line. Examples of early railway carriages include a Bodmin and Wadebridge Railway coach of 1834, while in addition there are innumerable signalling, bridge and similar exhibits to delight the heart of the railwayman. Where is the man connected with the “Iron Way” who would fail to answer to the thrill of inspecting at close hand the world's first metal railway bridge, designed by George Stephenson, and erected at West Auckland on the original Stockton and Darlington line more than a century ago? This is probably the most interesting of the York exhibits, and it is certainly one of which any railway might be proud to possess.
If brought together British railway tracks would stretch twice round the world. The number of passengers carried by the four main line groups each year is equivalent to 27 journeys for every man, woman and child in the British Isles, whilst the mileage run by passenger and freight trains annually is well over 400,000,000, or approximately equivalent to two journeys to the sun and back. Three-quarters of the coal produced in Britain is conveyed by rail, whilst 65,000,000 tons of stone, iron and other minerals and 60,000,000 tons of general goods, and some 300,000,000 gallons of milk are conveyed annually by rail.
Dear reader, have you not, since the drying of the winter rains, noticed in the gluey dawn, a certain feverishness about Nature's small-goods in your immediate proximity? Have you not yourself experienced a sensation of reckless abandon, provocative of goose-flesh on the wave lengths, a glugging of the glottis, and a buzziness in the head?
Have you not, during your matutinal egg-and-spoon race with “Baby Ben,” detected a certain jazzical jocundity, a sort of rhapsody about the flora and fauna around your domiciliary woodpile?
Have you not noticed your soul expanding like a sea-soaked doughnut, at the sights and sounds, the flights and bounds, of that delirious dame called Nature?
Has not the Sitwellian significance of all things light and spoofical entered your perforated prescience, such as sin and syntax, daffodils and dough, passion and pastry, sonnets and sawdust, fat and fate, love and laundry, hope and soap, jelly and joy, rope and romance, odes and odours, and all the other abstractions and contraptions the ultra-modern metremonger merges into his political pasties?
Have you not felt the pulse of Nature beating over the landscape, like a grandfather clock with palpitation of the pendulum?
Have you not tuned into the cries and croonings of the growing crops—the tootling of the toadstool, the maternal murmurings of female fungi, the rasp of the raspberry, the querulous quack of the gooseberry, the turning of the turnip, the airchoke of the artichoke, the shriek of the leek, the mellifluous meowing of the pussy-willow, the springing of the infant onion, and the guttural gurgling of the swede? Have you not hearkened to the panegyrical pipings of the birds and beasts, i.e., the wireless warbling of the wire-worm, the glug of the slug, the burring of the early bellbird (also known as the “false-alarm” clock), the lacteal lilt of the milk-bottle bird, the swan-song of the spring chicken, the high note of the draper-bill, the ring of the ring-worm, the short pants of the carpet-runner, and, perchance, the voluminous vapourings of the lounge-lizard?
If so, and whether or no, dear reader, these adumbratory ambiguities mean one thing only—Spring has Sprung. Perhaps it would be more correct to say that Spring Is sprung, for there is a carelessness about the face of Nature betokening a stimulation of the spring-onion from extraneous sources—a sort of sportointoxication. Her “joi de vie” has a suspicion of “eau de vie.” There is about her conduct and deportment a suspicion of esprit de corpuscle, a quid pro quip, a fill-em-up-againness, connoting a disregard of the behaviour befitting a lady-bird. She has decked herself out in greens and gone on the “skate” with that notorious “back-to-nature”
Save” or “Up The Pole.”
Perhaps a squirt of rhetoric from the ink-syringe of the spring-poet, A. Bysmal-Bunk, will convey to you the methylated spirit of spring.
Enough of A. Bysmal-Bunk, and the rashness and rashes of Spring. Admittedly all the world's a-warbling, and life is one sweet din.
Speaking of din and the jag-pipes of Pan, have you ever, dear reader, considered the terrific turbulence of titillated oxygen, the enormous volume of agitated ether, the devastating immensity of reticulated rhapsody, murdered melody, and desiccated discord, masquerading as music, which is unleashed throughout this vale of blows in one little moment of time? Have you paused to gauge the possibilities of all this aerial agitation? Have you considered the resultant reaction if all these vocalists, bagpipists, saxaphonists, piano smashers, euphonium thunderers, organ crashers and unspecified puffers, pounders, twangers and twankers of note, valve, string and reed, were brought together, and, jointly and severally were to uncork one simultaneous blast—just one sharp, quaver or quiver. What think you, would happen?
Verily, the result would be not dissimilar to that cosmic crash scheduled by the ancient pessimists to occur on the last rent day when certain celestial soloists will announce, per trombo, the grand foreclosure of the mundane mortgage, and the audience and auditorium will disperse without notice.
But if it Were possible to gather all these “birds of the air” together and produce the greatest array of crashed bands ever offered to the public forbearance, I fear that when they pulled the cork out, the rebound would catch them in the wind and knock them back ten thousand runs, right to the mussel-bound era of music.
But let us consider music calmly and without malice aforethought. In the early days, when music was a vocation, confined to the vocality of bird and beast, and the swanee whistle had not yet been derived from the gum-chewing giggler, the boast that “music hath charms to soothe the savage breast,” might have had some foundation in truth, but in these enblightened days of metallurgical music, when the mania of the mob finds expression in the clashing of tinware, the bashing of ivory, the braying of infuriated fauna, and the howling of compressed air, all amalgamated in a medley remindful of an iron foundry rampant, a company of carnivora crying for meat, and a battalion of “Bolshie bottle-os,” it is possible that the simplest methods of soothing the “savage breast,” would be to swat it a wallop with some blunt wind-instrument.
Let us consider some of our contemporary splurgical instruments. Is it not fitting that, music having originated in the bellows of our four-footed friends, we should utilise their spare parts in the construction of our squawkers and rattlers?
I hate to mention it, dear reader, but what of the bagpipes? Thousands have asked this question with tears in their eyes, and the only answer has been a low moan, like the sob of a heart-broken haggis. The bagpipes remain one of life's mysteries. They have never been adequately explained. People sob, “Why are bagpipes?” and put chewing gum into their ears; but still from the oatmeal caves of Caledonia come these bags of irreconcilable alternatives, marked “Explosives,” “Aeropains,” or “MacHinery,” and sometimes even disguised as music. But let us be fair. Do not let our feelings carry us away more than five or six miles from the seat of the disturbance. Let us remember that for the manufacture of every nest of bagpipes, at least one poor quadruped has laid down its life for Scotland, for it is known that bagpipes are manufactured from the scooped-out personality of a sheep, or an ox, or an ass?
Having deflated the bagpipes, let us turn to the combination of horse's flyswatter and cat's mousetrap known as the violin—but often referred to as the vile-din, and worse.
Is not nature inscrutable, gentle reader, when we consider the fact that a horse's swisher brought into conflict with a cat's inner meaning is, more often than not, productive of a disturbance akin to the howl of that continental quadruped known as the hors-de-tomcat?
Of course you are aware that the notes of a piano are manufactured from the eye-teeth of an elephant—hence the jungle noises which frequently emanate from its little-known interior. Of pianos there are various species, including the grand piano. Suffice it to say that of grand pianos the baby variety is the most persistent and is provided with a self-starter which is difficult to stop. The “baby” usually performs from midnight until the first rays of daylight, and is at its best when completely unstrung.
And the drum—what of it? Of course you have heard songs sung about drummer boys who have played on and on relentlessly, although shot through the drum-sticks and wounded in the professional pride, but what do you know of the physiology and biffology of the belaboured boomerabang? When I convey
But let us turn from these musical morbidities to consider the railway engine as a vocalist. Truly the locomotive is a voco-motive. If you doubt the assertion, trusting reader, remove the cotton wool from your receiving set and station yourself in the vicinity of a crossing, or a tunnel, or a shunting yard. Then you will hearken to the sweet childish tootle of the baby shunter as it patters up and down the rails, learning its letters from the alphabetical rolling stock.
You will hear the full-throated “tally-ho” of a galloping Garratt, beating the wind down the straight; you will thrill to the soprano of an A.B. trilling like Galli Curci to her audience awaiting on the platform, with all the anticipatory emotions appropriate to these palpitating moments.
You will appreciate the tuneful humming of escaping steam emanating from some powerful black bass-tenor, relaxing momentarily at a water tank. The whoop of a speeding baritone greeting a tunnel, the sentimental salvo of sound emitted by a goods engine as he patters along the rails on a moonlight night, and the comic items rendered by the little “black-face comedians” on festive occasions and days of national rejoicing will gladden your ears.
You will stand enthralled by the glad chorus of the engines congregated in the yard preparatory to their long journeys, as they open up their throttles and give voice to that grand old song “A'Shunting We Will Go.”
This is virile, wholesome music; the songs are of joy and action; they are uplifting pæans to the wide open spaces, the wind and the rain and the beckoning hills; they are a challenge to the hothouse horrors masquerading as music and perpetrated with hammers on hardware.
Pursuing this train of thought we are suddenly brought to the terminus of our treatise, and so must rake out the fires of inspiration, and leave any further ideas on the siding.
(Written after a visit paid to the Hutt Valley Workshops by representatives of the firm of Messrs. Donald and Sons, Masterton. We are indebted to the Secretary, Mr. A. Clemas, for the following impressions.)
Lights, and cleanly orderliness; a bewildering mass of machines and machinery; quiet, attentive forms; hurrying, busy figures; all these and much more pass across the vision and mind as the visitor enters for the first time the great mechanical workshops of the New Zealand Railways in the Hutt Valley, Wellington. A courteous official permit obtained us a ready entry and pleasant nod of welcome as we stated the object of our visit.
Soon, under expert guidance, we were being introduced to some of the world's latest mechanical wonders. Mighty goliaths of shining steel with a touch a gentle as a woman's hand, capable of accurate adjustment to the decimal part of a fraction of an inch, obeyed the bidding of blue-coated mechanics, the machine supplying the power, the man supplying the brains.
Process after process was explained to us as we hurried from machine to bench, and bench to tool rack, vainly endeavouring to follow the intricacies of “blue print” and expert detail. Here in this cockpit of continuous warfare—replacement against the ravages of time's wear and tear—one learns to appreciate the silent energy of electrical power and trained efficiency. The triumph of organised control proclaims itself on every side. There is some peculiar fascination surrounding a mass of moving wheels. From time immemorial Power has been the subject of hero-worship. The mind of man has schemed and planned to harness “energy” and make it subservient to his will. There is hope for the youngster who finds delight in taking a watch to pieces and more still for the one who tries putting it together again. Machinery is perhaps the greatest expression of man's supremacy over natural restrictions. Standing on the concrete floor of this modern emporium of power, the novice becomes painfully aware of how little he knows.
Unconsciously one learns something of the “wheels within wheels” of national enterprise. The smooth running of a great community commercial concern, the safety of life and limb, is enthroned under this vaulted roof—the acceptance of the responsibility is depicted on every face and in every attitude.
One impression lingers above and beyond all others, namely, that the “powers that be” when designing this up-to-date and model workshop recognised to the full that efficiency is best attained amidst light and comfort, and that the well-being and mental equanimity of the worker has been made a consideration of paramount importance.
The wee child in the illustration is dressed in a party frock of handkerchief linen in a soft pastel shade. Smocking trims the neck in front and back, from which hang gathered rows of pleats. The frock is fastened by buttons on each shoulder, allowing room for the head to pass through the very high neck.
Girl members of the “New Health” Society's staff were made the subjects of a test to ascertain the results of a course of irradiation with artificial sunlight and the inclusion of a regular addition of milk to the daily diet. This was conducted during the spring, a time when the girls would be likely to benefit from such an aid to the restoration of vitality lost during the winter; and such an assumption was endorsed by the success of the experiment.
Each individual was given daily a pint of pasteurised milk, supplied gratis by a well-known dairy company, and exposure to a mercury lamp three times a week. At the end of the period they all testified to increased well-being and vitality, and the report of the medical expert showed in each case increased chest expansion, while in five out of seven cases weight increased, especially those who had been distinctly below their best weight.
This experiment should be of the greatest interest to all concerned in the welfare of office workers, proving, as it does, the improvement in physique, and consequently, working efficiency, to be gained from either an increased milk consumption or the use of artificial sunlight in the winter months, or, better still, both together.
One egg, 1 egg yolk, 4 ozs. buttermilk (a short ½ gill), ½ teaspoonful soda, ¼ teaspoonful salt, 4 ozs. washed bran, 1 ½ ozs, butter. Grease six deep patty tins. Beat the egg and egg yolk lightly, add the bran, salt and soda. Then add the butter-milk and lastly the melted butter. Tightly pack equal quantities into the pans, put into a hot oven of about 450 deg. F., and finish baking in a moderate oven for about 30 minutes, or until the cakes will lift out easily without sticking.
Two eggs, ¼ pint water, 1 tablespoonful olive oil, 1 teaspoonful sodium bicarbonate, ¼ teaspoonful salt, 4 ozs. washed bran. Beat the eggs lightly; add the dry ingredients, then the olive oil and water. Bake equal quantites in six deep patty pans in a moderate oven about 30 minutes, or until the cakes will lift out easily without sticking.
A Maori, watching the winding of the station clock, was told that it was an “eight-day clock.”
“What that?” says Hori.
“Oh.” says the stationmaster, “it goes eight days without winding.”
“Py gorry, that the fine clock, eh! Eight days without winding,” says Hori; “how long he go if you do wind him?”
* * *
An advertising expert was advertised expert was advertised to deliver a lecture in Aberdeen on “How to Treat Your Customers.” Only two men attended — the chairman and the lecturer.
* * *
Tammas was out walking with his dog, and in passing a butcher's shop, the dog helped itself to a sausage and ran fast for home. Out came the butcher, and, addressing Tammas, asked:
“Is that your dog?”
“It was my dog,” replied Tammas, “but it's daen for itsel’ noo.”
“Whustle it back, then,” retorted the butcher; “it's awa' wi' a sausage.”
“Whustle yer sausage back,” replied Tammas.
* * *
Young Housekeeper: “I want a piece of meat without any bone, fat, or gristle.”
Bewildered Butcher: “Madam, I think you'd better have an egg.”
* * *
Although John and his wife had been married forty years, it was said they had never been known to agree—except on one memorable occasion. John bought a car, and in due course learned to drive—in a way. When he took his wife for her first ride all went merrily until John attempted to turn a corner.
“John!” screamed his wife, grasping his arm. “You're going to hit that pole.”
“I know it,” said John.
And he did.
* * *
“I never knew until I got a car,” said the bishop, “that profanity was so prevalent.”
“Do you hear much of it on the road?”
“Why,” replied the bishop, “nearly everybody I bump into swears dreadfully!”
* * *
Because he had crawled out on thin ice and rescued a playmate who had broken through, little Willie was the centre of a group of admiring men and women.
“Tell us, my boy, how you were brave enough to risk your life to save your friend,” said one of the ladies.
“I had to,” was the breathless answer. “He had my skates on.”
* * *
Meek voice over the telephone—“Doctor, this is Mr. Henpeck. My wife has just dislocated her jaw. If you're out this way next week you might drop in and see her.”
* * *
A man could save himself a lot of trouble by marrying his second wife first.
In a special article, the Southland Daily News deals comprehensively with the objects and results of Farmers' excursions as they are conducted on the New Zealand Railways.
“When a firm engaged in the manufacture of, say, tobacco wants to develop its business,” says the News, “it sets out to induce people to smoke and become consumers; when a firm engaged in the business of transport wants to develop business, it must set out to induce people to travel. It must create new business; in other words—it must persuade those people who usually stay at home to take a journey into other lands and see what other people are doing. This is the task the Railway Department has set itself, and nowhere can one find this new departure better expressed than in the Farmers' tours which have been conducted within the Dominion by this progressive Department. Already some six or seven Farmers' tours have been conducted successfully, and we are satisfied that the business has only made a start as yet. The writer was one of the party which left Southland for the North Island three weeks ago and can truthfully say that no more valuable work along educational lines has ever been carried out in this Dominion by a Government Department outside of that which deals with Education. When it is stated that 80 per cent. of the Southland party had never previously been across Cook Strait, it will be realised how great was the educational value of the tour.
The real educational value of a tour such as that just concluded is perhaps not realised by even those who participated in it. Just as there were 280 souls on board the Southland farmers’ train so would there have been about 280 ideas of what such a tour should embrace, but probably not one of those ideas would have sketched out a trip so full of interest and so varied in character as was that one so well planned by the Railway Department. With the experience of half-a-dozen other excursions to guide them, the Railway official knew just what would be most appreciated by a party of farmers on tour, and we are sure that the Southland excursionists would not have changed a single feature of the itinerary….
In every possible way the Railway Department excelled itself in the carrying out of this tour. Train arrangements were excellent, accommodation was always provided ahead, and the courtesy and efficiency of the Departmental officers accompanying the party were beyond praise.
One has only to travel with such a party to realise to the full that we now have a revitalised and thoroughly efficient Department controlling our railways. We can only congratulate the Railway Department and recommend those of our readers who have not yet joined a touring party to do so at the earliest possible moment and thereafter live out a more enlightened old age.”
The Sun
Sunbeam
Morning
Night
In fact, as well as in fiction, the railway is fast becoming an “Iron Way” in every sense of the term. Some time ago there was re-recorded the experimental utilisation of steel sleepers by the Southern Railway of England. Now this lead has been followed by the Great Western line, and lengths of track in South Wales and on the main line near Reading have been equipped with sleepers of a somewhat similar description. The Great Western steel sleepers are eight feet long. They consist of a plate three-eighths of an inch thick, pressed to trough form, with a bead along the lower edge of the trough for stiffening purposes. The sleeper is nine and a quarter inches wide by four and three-sixteenth inches deep for a distance of sixteen inches each side of the centre, and is spread to a width of eleven inches by three and one-eighth inches deep for the remainder of its length. The ends are turned down and splayed to a width of 12 inches. So far, experience gained with the steel sleepers has been most satisfactory. The only difficulty associated with the use of this equipment is the fact that steel sleepers cannot at present be employed on lines where track circuiting is utilised. Here is an opportunity for some brainy railwayman to bring forward a simple device to overcome this difficulty.
On the Continent of Europe the steel sleeper is not unknown, and on the German railways there is a considerable mileage of track so equipped.
Edgar, J. W., to Steel Wagon Shop Foreman, Gr. 5, Otahuhu.
Franklin, H. W., to Officer in Charge, Advertising Branch, Special Gr. 2, Wellington.
Islip, P. E., to Goods Delivery Clerk, Gr. 6, Timaru.
Kearin, M. P., to Booking Clerk, Gr. 5, Auckland.
Kerr, L., to Clerk, Relief, Gr. 6, Palmerston North.
Larkin, H. J., to Stationmaster, Gr. 2, New Plymouth.
Monteith, J. H., to Audit Inspector (North Island), Gr. 3, Auckland.
McCarthy, H. J., to Assistant Relieving Officer, Gr. 6, Te Kuiti.
Ramsbottom, T., to Chief Clerk, Gr. 4, Whangarei.
Small, F. J. D., to Record Clerk, Gr. 4, Head Office, Wellington.
Smith, G. F., to Allocator Clerk, Gr. 6, Dunedin Goods.
Vincent, L. M., to Section Clerk (Recoveries), Gr. 5, Chief Accountant's Office, Wellington.
Webber, J., to Yard Foreman, Gr. 5, Frankton Junction.
Worsfold, W. E., to Accounts Clerk, Gr. 6. District Traffic Manager's Office, Christ-church.
O'Kane, W. J., to Yard Foreman, Gr. 5, Greymouth.
Shunter to Guard.
Chapman, H. J. L., to Invercargill Passenger.
Signalmen to Shunters.
Elwell, J., to Otahuhu.
Purves, W., to Whangarei.
Porters to Shunters.
Burley, W. A., to Greymouth.
Cameron, W. D., to Palmerston North.
Harris, E. C., to Westport.
Nisbet, W. E., to Wellington Goods.
Sowry, A. G., to Relief, Auckland.
Windsor, W. S. J., to Spare, Christchurch Goods.
Lifter to Storeman.
Ross, C. J., to Hillside.
Striker to Iron Machinist.
Brady, T. M., to Gr. 1, Addington.
Storeman to Leading Storeman.
Buckley, H. H., to East Town Stores.
Ganger, Gr. 1, to Ganger, Sub-class 10.
Hill, C. H., to New Plymouth.
Labourer to Skilled Labourer.
Frater, W., to Kaiwarra.
Surfacemen to Gangers.
Garard, G. W., to Tarukenga.
Lukashefski, J. A., to Kiore.
Simpson, W. F., to Omana.
Teirney, J., to Ahikiwi.
From the Manager, Woodville Municipal Gas Works, to Mr. E. A. Smart, Stationmaster, Woodville:—
Owing to failure of our regular coal supplies coming forward, I was faced with the position of being almost out of coal stock. An urgent telephone message to our suppliers in Wellington for a quick supply of coal, and at the same time a request that the Railway treat the matter as urgent, was sent. How well the latter request was carried out is explained by the fact of the consignment arriving here in good time. For this I am very pleased and thankful. I am quite satisfied the Railway Department is out to give the best of service.
* * *
From E. Castle, Wellington, to the District Traffic Manager, Wellington:—
I should like to express my appreciation of the courtesy extended to women passengers on the Napier Express (and no doubt on other Express trains also).
While travelling alone recently—and not very well—it was pleasing to receive the assistance from a courteous guard, who arranged to bring me tea at Paekakariki and attend to my luggage, etc.
These kindly attentions must mean much to any woman travelling alone. The Red Cap porters are a boon, too.
* * *
From the Secretary, Wauwhetu School Committee, Lower Hutt, to the District Traffic Manager, Wellington:—
I feel it is my duty to thank you for the excellent transport arrangements which you made for us on Tuesday, 23rd July, for our visits to the Winter Show. Though over a hundred of us went, we were given ample accommodation at a charge which will induce us to make good use of the services during the coming fine weather for Saturday picnics and so on. The Tramways also looked after us well, and as you were responsible for that arrangement, we thank you for it.