Quite the best account of life on board an emigrant ship in the sailing-ship days was given by Mr. S. Philpott, of Auckland, in an article that appeared in the "Auckland Star" under the heading "Sea Memories," and it was so good that I have reproduced it here.

On Tuesday, June 17, 1873, a small family group might have been seen on a departure platform of what was then the Landport railway terminus (now the Portsmouth town station). Their somewhat bulky luggage would convey an idea that these were no ordinary local travellers, and the address written conspicuously on most of the packages would have completed the evidence: "John Blank, passenger to Auckland, N.Z., per ship St. Leonards, via East India Docks, London."

Arrived at London Bridge, cabs conveyed us to the docks. Fifty years ago the East India Docks presented an entirely different appearance from that which has prevailed during more recent years—the scene has been aptly described as being literally "a forest of masts." The vessels at the loading berths were moored alongside short jetties at right angles to the breastwork, over which the bowsprits (with jib-booms rigged in) protruded in a long parallel column with almost mathematical precision. Over the bows of each was suspended a large signboard, bearing the name, destination, etc, of the ship. About the third on the row from the main gates was one as follows: "For Auckland direct. This splendid iron clipper ship St. Leonards, 999 tons, (reg.) 100 Al at Lloyd's, Captain Petherbridge, will sail as above on June 17. For freight or passage, apply Shaw, Savill and Co."

Around and about the dock gates intending passengers loitered, they not being allowed on board until about 5 p.m. for the obvious reason that they would have been a menace to an army of carpenters busily engaged putting the finishing touches to the temporary berths, etc., erected in the "'tween decks," the scene somewhat resembling an exhibition the day preceding the opening—everything on top and nothing at hand, like a midshipman's chest. However, something like order was finally evolved out of chaos, and we sat down to our first meal. We went into the Basin the same evening, and were towed to Gravesend the next morning. On the Thursday a number of cabin passengers boarded us, and the tugboat hooked on again to take us another stage on the "long long trail." We fetched up in the Downs until the Saturday, when the tug took us to Beachy Head, and thence down Channel under sail. We had a light fair wind for a start. I remember passing St. Catherine's (Isle of Wight) on Monday evening (the 23rd) and seeing the illuminations at Spithead in honour of the Shah of Persia's visit to England.