The constructional engineers concluded that the best means of meeting the situation was to erect a workshop on the spot where the necessary steel-work could be prepared. Electricity was generated to operate the various tools demanded. The rainfall averaged about 96 inches per year, and at times the insignificant stream flowing through the V-shaped fissure was nothing but a foaming torrent, sweeping everything away in its mad rush.
The constructional engineers were faced with the erection of one tower springing from the bank of the waterway beneath to a height of 270 feet, while other towers of 249, 208, 175 and 110 feet in height respectively were demanded. The spans were of equal length, viz. 100 feet, flanked on either side by approaches, and the undertaking called for the use of about 1000 tons of steel.
The foundations comprise concrete pedestals which were sunk into the ground, and these carry steel towers somewhat after the American pattern, giving lightness, with rigidity and strength. Every piece of steel was riveted to its neighbour by means of pneumatic tools, which not only expedited the task of securing the sections together, but eliminated the possibility of accidents arising from the swinging of sledge-hammers, especially at the greatest heights. The spans of steel connecting each tower with its neighbour were erected from the rail level, without recourse to false-work. Owing to the many and careful precautionary methods adopted, the erecting work was carried through without the slightest hitch or the loss of a single life. When the task was completed the strength of the constructional engineers’ handiwork was tested thoroughly by a train of the heaviest locomotives used upon the New Zealand railway being run across the bridge at varying speeds, until the maximum attained in practice was reached. The Makatote Viaduct stands as one of the finest pieces of its work of this type that ever has been completed in the Antipodes.
Another striking engineering achievement was the building of the Central Otago railway which runs from Dunedin to the interior of Otago. The line not only threads knots of mountains, but also spans numerous rifts. Indeed, so much bridging became necessary that the railway has become known as “The Bridge Line.” In completing this road nearly every type of structure known to the engineer was adopted. The largest structure is the Wingatui Viaduct, where the rail is carried about 146 feet above the floor of a broken, winding gorge on a creation of steel comprising three spans, each measuring 196 feet in length, and five smaller spans, each of 66 feet, supported on pyramidal steel towers. Another work of a similar character is the Flat Creek Viaduct, where the rail runs across the rift about 100 feet above its deepest part in six spans of 66 feet each. These mountain creeks, it may be pointed out, are simply masses of rocky boulders in the dry season, but when they are called upon to carry away the accumulation of water, they are nothing but torrents tearing along with fiendish turbulence, and bearing down considerable quantities of heavy stones, against the batterings of which the erections of the engineer would be futile were they not carried out upon the most substantial lines. In contrast to the permanent metallic structures is the Waian timber trestle on the South Island main trunk line, which measures no less than 613 feet from end to end. Verily, New Zealand may be described as the land of the bridge-builder in excelsis, owing to such varied opportunities to demonstrate his skill.
CHAPTER XVI
ACROSS SIBERIA BY RAIL
The success with which San Francisco was brought within two or three weeks of Europe by means of the Union and Central Pacific railways prompted far-seeing individuals to aspire for a similar acceleration of travel around the other half of the northern hemisphere. This could be done by driving the iron road straight across Europe and Asia, and it was pointed out, in support of the scheme, that the industrial and commercial centres of western Europe would be brought within about a fortnight’s journey of China.
The construction of a railway across Siberia was discussed for over half a century. In 1851 Count Mouraviev-Amoursky, the Governor-General of Eastern Siberia, suggested that he should be brought into more immediate touch with the heart of the Russian Empire. He suggested that first a highroad should be built across the continent, upon which the iron rails should be laid later, thus converting the channel of vehicular and pedestrian traffic into a railway.
It was a brilliant idea, but like many other great schemes suffered from being premature. However, as Siberia developed, the building of independent railway lines in various parts of the country, to be connected together by short links, thereby forming a chain of railways stretching from the Baltic to the Pacific Ocean, was mooted frequently. The Government viewed the recommendations sympathetically, but nothing definite was arranged.
In 1869 the administrative authorities scattered throughout Asiatic Russia became so energetic in their demands for improved communication with western Europe that the Government entertained seriously the bonding of the empire. The question arose, however, as to the most advantageous location. What direction should it follow in order to serve the most promising interests from an economic point of view? This was a problem that demanded searching investigation, but meanwhile the railway commenced to move eastwards, the existing system of Russia in Europe being driven more and more towards the Ural Mountains. By 1888 the railhead was within easy reach of the eastern frontier of Europe, having gained Zlatoost.