A Narrative of a Nine Months' Residence in New Zealand in 1827

Having made up my mind to visit the island of New Zealand, and having persuaded my friend Mr. Shand to accompany me, we made an arrangement for the passage with Captain Kent, of the brig Governor Macquarie, and, bidding adieu to our friends at Sydney, in a few hours (on October 20th, 1827) we were wafted into the great Pacific Ocean.

There were several other passengers on board, who were proceeding to New Zealand to form a Wesleyan missionary establishment at Hokianga. Amongst these were a Mr. and Mrs. Hobbs, who were most enthusiastic in the cause. They had formerly belonged to the same mission at Whangaroa, when a war which took place amongst the natives totally destroyed their establishment; and, after enduring great varieties of suffering, they escaped, but lost everything they possessed, except the clothes they had on. We had a very fine wind for nine days, and on the 29th we saw a gannet, a sure sign we were within a hundred miles of land, for these birds are never seen at a greater distance from it. True to our anticipations, towards the afternoon the water became discoloured, and at midnight we saw the land.

This interesting island, of which we now got sight, was first discovered by that eminent and enterprising Dutch navigator, Tasman, subsequently to the discovery of Van Diemen's Land. His voyage from Batavia in 1642, undertaken by order of the then Governor-General of Dutch India, Anthony Van Diemen, was one of the most important and successful ever undertaken, for it was during this voyage that New Holland was discovered, of which Van Diemen's Land was then supposed to form a part, the extensive island of New Zealand being supposed to form another portion.[1]

The slight intercourse of the discoverers with the natives had so calamitous a termination, and the exaggerated accounts it was then a kind of fashion to give of savages, stigmatised the New Zealanders with such a character for treachery and cruelty, that their island was not visited again for upwards of a century, when the immortal Cook drew aside the veil of error and obscurity from this unexplored land, and rescued the character of its inhabitants from the ignominy which its original discoverers, the Dutch, had thrown upon them. This immense tract of land was imagined by Tasman to form but one island, and he most unaptly gave it the name of New Zealand, from its great resemblance (as was stated) to his own country.[2]

In 1770 Cook discovered a strait of easy access and safe navigation, cutting the island nearly in half, thus making two islands of what had before been imagined but one. This strait bears his name, and is often traversed by vessels from New South Wales returning home by way of Cape Horn.

In 1827 His Majesty's ship Warsprite passed through this strait in company with the Volage, twenty-eight guns, being the first English line of battleship which had ever made the attempt. A few years since, Captain Stewart, commanding a colonial vessel out of Port Jackson, discovered another strait, which cut off the extreme southern point, making it a separate island that bears his name, and now almost every year our sealers and whalers are making additional and useful discoveries along its coasts.

These islands lie between lat. 34° and 48°S. and long. 166° and 180°E. The opening of the land to which we were now opposite, and which was our destined port, the accurate eye of Cook had observed, but did not attempt the entrance; and it is only about ten years since, when the two store ships, the Dromedary and Coromandel, loaded with spars on the coast, that a small vessel attending on those ships first crossed the bar; but although they took soundings and laid down buoys, the commanders of the large vessels were afraid of attempting the entrance, which proved their good sense, for their great draught of water would have rendered the undertaking more hazardous than the risk was worth. Yet during my residence in this country two large vessels crossed the bar, and recrossed it heavily laden, without the slightest accident-one the Harmony, of London, 400 tons burden; the other the Elizabeth, of Sydney, of nearly equal tonnage-but in proof that it is not always safe, a few months after this, two schooners of extremely light draught were lost, though they were both commanded by men who perfectly well knew the channels through the bar. It was a singular circumstance that both vessels had been built in New Zealand; one, the Herald, a small and beautiful craft, built by and belonging to the Church missionaries, the crew of which escaped, but the disastrous circumstances attending the wreck of the other, called the Enterprise, I shall relate in their proper place.

The morning of the 30th was foggy and unfavourable, but it suddenly cleared up, and exhibited the entrance of Hokianga right before us, and a light breeze came to our aid to carry us in. The entrance to this river is very remarkable, and can never be mistaken by mariners. On the north side, for many miles, are hills of sand, white, bleak, and barren, ending abruptly at the entrance of the river, which is about a quarter of a mile across. Where the south head rises abrupt, craggy, and black, the land all round is covered with verdure; thus, at the first glimpse of these heads from the sea, one is white, the other black.

The only difficulty attending the entrance (and, indeed, the only thing which prevents Hokianga from being one of the finest harbours in the world) is the bar. This lies two miles from the mouth of the river, its head enveloped in breakers and foam, bidding defiance and threatening destruction to all large ships which may attempt the passage. However, we fortunately slipped over its sandy sides, undamaged, in three-fathom water.

After crossing the bar, no other obstacle lay in our way, and, floating gradually into a beautiful river, we soon lost sight of the sea, and were sailing up a spacious sheet of water, which became considerably wider after entering it; while majestic hills rose on each side, covered with verdure to their very summits. Looking up the river, we beheld various headlands stretching into the water, and gradually contracting in width, till they became fainter and fainter in the distance, and all was lost in the azure of the horizon. The excitement occasioned by contemplating these beautiful scenes was soon interrupted by the hurried approach of canoes, and the extraordinary noises made by the natives who were in them.

FOOTNOTES:

[1]

The Dutch and Spanish had discovered N.E. Australia as early as 1606, and the Dutch had on several occasions visited the N.W. and South coasts of the Continent before the date of Tasman's voyage.

[2]

The name given by Tasman was Staten Landt. The name New Zealand was bestowed in 1643 by the States-General of the United Provinces.

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