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The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 68

The Auckland Islands

The Auckland Islands.

Islands which are known the world over, and whose record is one of disaster and suffering. Who can tell how many of the vessels posted page 8 as "missing" have ended there career on these Islands? Just as they, buoyant with hope, have got fairly under way, bound for home, the weather thickens, squall succeeds squall, the wind gathers hurricane force, the mist obscures the land, a sudden lurch, a dreadful concussion, and the gallant barque sinks heath the boiling, seething sea. We have painful records of many wrecks—as instance, "The Invercauld," "The Grafton," "The General Grant," and "The Derry Castle," but who can tell how many have occurred of which we know nothing? the sea burying beneath it angry billows every trace of identification.

If the weather we experienced between Port Pegasus and the Snares was bad I scarcely know how to define the passage to the Aucklands. It was a fearful one—mountainous seas, with a westerly wind of hurricane force—and as we were steering south our good craft had her work cut out. Some of the seas she shipped came over with tremendous force, and we encountered bitter squalls of rain and hail. None of us thought of sleeping; and I occupied myself by reading; occasionally going up to the bridge to admire the grandeur of the scene. About 7 a.m. on 24th January, we sighted the Aucklands right ahead, a very good landfall by dead reckoning, thanks to a perfect compass and an able navigator. The Auckland Islands, which lie about 300 miles to the southward of New Zealand, were discovered on 18th August, 1806, by Captain Abraham Bristow, during a whaling voyage in the ship Ocean, belonging to Mr Samuel Enderby. The discoverer named tie islands after Lord Auckland, and formal possession was taken of them in 1807. They extend over 27 miles north and south by 15 miles in breadth and are very mountainous, the altitude of the ranges being from 950 in the north to 2000 feet in the south. We saw the reef on which the Derry Castle struck, and passing south entered the magnificent harbour of Port Ross, the site of the Enderby whaling settlement, founded in 1850 by Mr Charles Enderby, and abandoned some years later. The first thing that claimed our attention was a monstrous sea lion disporting himself on the beach, occasionally going down to the water and returning to the bush and tussock. All available bands now went ashore, and before dinner the captain had a boat-house erected, and a dingy, provisions, and matches, along with instructions to castaways, carefully stowed within it. While we were engaged at this work the sea lions came ashore as if to superintend the operations going on on terra firma. They are very unwieldy creatures, and are only dangerous if when passing through the deep tussock you disturb one in his lair, when the chance of your getting away, except as a uniped, would be small. We saw some dogs, rabbits in hundreds, and seabirds in myriads. The captain tried to shoot the dogs but failed through having bad ammunition. While the boatshed was being built I photo, graphed the huts erected by the survivors of the Derry Castle (No. 15). These are compactly built of tussock, several of them being bound with thongs of sea lion hides. Near them, a wooden building formerly used as a depot, bears the following inscription:—"B'que Deny Castle, Limerick, lost north side Island March 22, '87, 8 survivors page 9 gone to depot other side harbour—matches inside, 18th June, '87, J. McGhie, passenger." I also took a general view of Erebus Cove, with the Derry Castle's signal in the foreground (No. 16)—one of the ship's life-belts on a firm square post and visible a long way off. Adjoining this signal was another post with a rag or two still fluttering from it—the remains of their distress flag. After dinner on board we started again to try and reach the scene of the wreck of the Derry Castle, but could not get to the beach for want of time, and so I photographed the reef from the shelves of the cliffs (No. 14). The rocks rise here quite precipitously, with very few breaks, to a height of from 200 to 400 feet, and our wonder was that any of the crew were saved at all. The sea breaks on the reef and on the precipitous rocks with great force, hurling the spray and drift right over the cliff. Getting on board again about 8.30 p.m. we steamed up to the depot at Erebus Cove, Port Boss. We landed provisions, clothing, boots, matches, and tools, and came across several interesting mementos of maritime disaster. The first thing was the canoe which the Derry Castle's survivors built, and which carried them from Enderby Island to Erebus Cove. The canoe is quite a wonderful piece of work, and must have tried their patience and stimulated their inventive faculties. The paddles are constructed from the blades of oars washed ashore from their ship, with handles of rough wood spliced on. The canoe is built of boards carried overland from the scene of the wreck, two and a half miles distant, and through a piece of dense, tangled scrub. The seams are covered by pieces of tin tacked on, and the canoe as a whole resembles a flat-bottomed duck punt (No. 17;. Entering the depot, which is one of the houses left by the Enderby enterprise, we found inscriptions all round, one of which informed visitors that the eight survivors of the Derry Castle bad been 91 days on Enderby Island, ten of these days without fire and without food other than such shell fish as they could pick up bitting at home with even the most meagre fare and comfort it is impossible to conceive the distress they must have suffered. They could see the depot at Erebus Cove from their huts, but between them and it the sea rushes angrily through three deep channels. With what longing eyes they must have passed their time; seeing, almost within their grasp food, clothes, fire, and, comparatively speaking, every comfort, and yet being unable to reach them. Over the mantleshelf were two slates—one of them framed, the other a fragment. The larger bore the following inscription—"Sacred to the memory of the Captain, first and second officers, and twelve of the crew who lost their lives by the wreck of the Derry Castle, on the north side of Enderby Island, March 20, 1887, The eight survivors were taken from the island by the schooner Awarua July 21, 1887." Then followed the names of the survivors and of those lost, so far as known, The inscription on the broken slate reads:—"Sacred to the memory of 68 persons who lost their lives on May 14th, 1866, by wreck of the ship General Grant, on Auckland Isles." The writing on the first mentioned slate is done with burnt shell, but that en the other is apparently scratched in by a sharp nail, and is very neatly done. The margin of the land all around here is clothed for page 10 about 400 feet up with a stunted growth of small trees, and above that with ti-tree, red fern, and tussock, interspersed with creepers, bearing red and violet flowers. The soil is, if anything, better than that at Port Pegasus, Stewart Island, and at Erebus Cove the English grass wis knee deep. We landed a few sheep (supplied from the Wreck Fund, Invercargill) as there were no signs of rabbits or dogs. On Wednesday, 25th, we steamed to the head of the harbour, known as Sarah's Bosom (No. 18), in a bitterly cold rain, accompanied by severe squalls—quite as severe as those recorded by the author of "Wrecked on a reef; or Twenty months on the Auckland Isles"—one of the survivors of the Grafton. Indeed, from the time we reached the islands the bills had been almost constantly obscured by storm clouds. After landing and putting up a sign-board directing any persons who might be ship, wrecked to the provision depot, we took our departure. But as we got below the depot we saw a blue painted boat ashore and two square; columns, so we hove-to and went ashore we found the remains of a boat and two columns about 4 feet high and 18 inches square; also a flag of cement about two feet square and nine inches thick, which had doubtless at one time been the cap of one of the columns, and bearing the inscription:—"German Expedition, 1874." This marks the spot where the German scientists observed the transit of Venus, and also where Captain J. C. Ross made his observations in 1840. After we got aboard and under weigh we went as near as possible to Ross Island and saw quite a number of sea lions disporting themselves on the tussocky grass. The captain ordered the boat out, and with several of the hands we went ashore, the sight which greeted our view being worth the; voyage, even if we had seen nothing else. I "took" several groups of the lions (No. 19) but had exposed all my plates when a compact lot of 29 gathered together. In the course of my record I must characterise some statements made by former writers as somewhat "tall," bit when I say that these 29 seals were grouped within a square of from 45 to 50 feet 1 am very near the truth. I will go further and say that at one time I stood with my camera less than six feet from a pair of the largest, and you may rest assured I was ready to run at short notice—one thing in my favour was that these animals cannot travel fast. I don't think anyone ever saw a more humorous sight than these 29 sea lions making tor the beach. It was sublime; it was ridiculous; we laughed, and laughed again. The sea lion is of comparatively little commercial value, and I was indeed sorry that the close season for for seals protected also the sea lion, or hair seal, or we could have had some splendid specimens. When full grown I should imagine that each male, or "old wig," as the sailors call him, will weigh about seven or eight hundredweight, and each female about six. They live in groups one old male guarding several of the gentler sex, and should one of the latter desert without leave the chastisement is very severe. At one place we saw a female seal with a great portion bitten out of her side, probably the punishment inflicted on her by her lord and master. They emit a sort of bark or grunt when attacked, but will not fight unless provoked. The day being well advanced we had to push ahead. So page 11 on board we went and off to Carnley Harbour at the other end of the island, with its treasured mementos of the Grafton. The weather was still rough and cold, with heavy seas running. Passing round the north of the island we came on some very bold cliffs. The sealers tell as that they swing down cliffs 700 feet high, but we must allow a little for exaggeration, as the highest of the cliffs on the north and all along the west are not more than 450 feet in altitude, with one or two jutting headlands of from 450 to 600 feet. The seal caves are as numerous as the fur seals are scarce, and again I may say I think it scarcely worth while protecting the seal fisheries of New Zealand. There is no doubt that the seals frequenting these islands are only wanderers from their home further south, and for three months at a spell a sealer might work away at the Aucklands and report on his return that his seals were taken at Macquarie Islands (which are not annexed), a statement which would be difficult to disprove.

There are waterfalls in abundance on this island, but owing to the Mountainous seas it was impossible to photograph any of them. I made a rough sketch, however, of a crest of the cliffs about 300 feet high, over which five streams of water were falling. The peculiar feature was that a few feet below the edge of the cliff the strong wind caught the water and turned it completely back, so that the appearance was that of five jets of steam leaving the face of the rock and flying up in fine spray about 150 or 200 feet. A prettier effect I had never seen, and the same thing was noticed at several points during that day's costing trip. We sailed inside of Disappointment Island, as close as possible to the land, and soon reached the spot where the "General Grant" is said to have gone into a cave when she was wrecked on the night of May 4th, 1866. Now, I don't care about taking all the romance out of a good story, but on the west coast of the Auckland Islands there is not a cave into which a cutter could find her way; indeed, I question very much if you could get into one of them with a ship's whaleboat. Therefore the cave part of the General Grant narrative is a "yarn," and if the steamer Southland found the cave, as was reported; those on board were smarter than this South lander, and got ahead even of Captain Fairchild, who has carefully examined the whole coast and is confident that no such cave exists. We entered a fine harbour on the north, and another on the south east, and took soundings, The latter is also a good harbour, but is not to be compared with Carnley Harbour, where we anchored at 8.30 p.m. While we were fossicking about for a site for the boat-house a heavy squall came on, the mountains, although close to us, were hidden, and the spray from the seas breaking on Monumental Island flew across the steamer like pellets of ice. To say that spray was cold is to describe it mildly.

On the 26th January the second mate and four others went albatross hunting, and had a rough experience, having had to travel eight miles each way through a thick scrub. I took the ship's whaleboat and went to Monumental Head and Monumental Island. I was very much interested with this part of the trip, having just read "Wrecked on a Reef," in which work was a picture of the mausoleum which I admired. page 12 I could indentify the place and that was all (No. 24). In the romance referred to there is a picture showing Monumental Island as closely hemmed in by cliffs of 400 to 500ft. whereas the passage here is about a mile across, with Monumental Island just in the centre. I took several photographs as we picked our way up hill (No. 23), our path being surrounded by sea lions. The cliffs from the top look very imposing, but truth compels me to state that they are not more than 170 to 200 feet high (No. 22). The seas which enter Carnley Harbour by this entrance are fearful, the surf breaking about 50 feet high and the spray flying over our boat a quarter of a mile off. Returning to the steamer, we landed stores for castaways at Camp Cove, a pretty little spot covered with bush of no great height but so dense that I could not find a single point from which to get a view, so I had to take one from the steamer's deck. There is no refuge for castaways, except a store room 7x6, but any distressed persons could construct a hut and make themselves tolerably comfortable. Some of the stores consisted of matches (in hermetically sealed tins), boots, clothing, and blanket which were placed along with the food. Returning to Monumental Head we picked up our hunters, who were laden with albatrosses, living and dead, and albatross eggs in abundance. The mist came down very dense about 5 p.m.. and we very cautiously groped our way and sounded around Fig. 8 Island, where we landed a ram and ewe as the feed looked good, the grass growing about, though rank, being very juicy, It was amusing to see the sheep take stock of the sea lions among the tussock; they evidently looked on them as very ferocious dogs. We now made for the scene of the wreck of the Grafton, where we anchored for the night.

The captain and I went ashore, and secured several relics of this noted wreck. We also found the remains of Epigwaitt (No. 28), the house for so long of the Grafton's crew. The remains of the house consist of the uprights made out of the vessel's masts. On the following day (27th) I took several photos of the Grafton (Nos. 25, 26, 27), one of them showing the skids or ways by which their re-constructed boat was launched. She has evidently been a very strongly built craft, the chief part of her planking and the knees being of blue gum. There was also some box and Oregon timber about her and one of the masts is of Western Australian mahogany and the other of gum. We also found her stove which we nearly brought away with us, but satisfied ourselves with some remnants of timber and copper bolts. Just as we were leaving I found the original hammer and took possession of it. The is a fine beach where she went ashore, covered with small boulders, and from which the water deepens rapidly. Indeed she could not have touched ground more than 30 or 40 feet from dry land. There are no rocks near and only about 1¼ miles of harbour water, so that even with a very stormy gale it would be quite impossible for an over whelming sea to get up. The locality resembles an inland lake and is not open to any sea. On reading "Wrecked on a Reef' I felt very much for the poor creatures described as being perilously drawn to land through enormous breakers, and alongside of great rugged boulders, but, alas page 13 for the romance—the Grafton could scarcely have gone ashore at an easier place for landing. I think that on the Auckland Islands there is better soil than even in the southern part of Stewart Island, and they might be successfully settled by and by, by a colony of say 1000 people. The bush just skirts the water, and the higher land is covered with tussocky grass. Volcanic rocks peep out on all the hills, and the boggy surface is very bad. The anchorage off Epigwaitt is, Captain Fairchild declares, the best he knows of in the islands. Within a quarter of a mile off the Grafton's homestead we cast anchor in five fathoms of water. Getting on board again in the evening we steamed off en route to the East Coast Sounds of the islands, a number of which cut far into the centre of the island, and are not laid down on any chart. In one of them, "Waterfall Inlet," (No. 20) the water was So deep that the steamer's jibboom was amongst the trees growing on the vertical cliffs, and the younger members of our party amused themselves by picking ferns off the rocks from the end of the jibboom (No. 21). These cliffs rise to a height of 300 feet at least, and are densely wooded with iron wood to the water's edge. We filled our tanks here with excellent water. The inlet is one of the finest sheets of water I have seen. We steamed out at 3.30 p.m. and made for