In 1849, the year after his voyage of observation in the Dido, Selwyn sailed again to the Pacific, this time in his own little yacht the Undine, which he had used in his visitations of the coast of New Zealand and the adjacent islands. The Undine was a tiny vessel of only 21 tons. The Bishop was his own navigator, and had no charts to guide him in those unknown seas. He set to work at once to make charts and maps, which were afterwards thankfully accepted by the Admiralty. He was so good at managing a ship that the captain of a merchant vessel once said it almost made him a Christian and a Churchman to see the Bishop bring his schooner into harbour. The Undine carried no arms; from the first the Bishop, though taking all due precautions, was absolutely fearless in landing on the islands. He said: “Where a trader will go for gain, there the missionary ought to go for the merchandise of souls,” and again: “It is the duty of a missionary to go to the extreme point of boldness short of an exposure to known and certain danger.” His departure from Auckland is thus described:
“We have just parted with our Bishop, and seen him go off on his lonely mission voyage. Our feelings have been strangely varied. We rejoice to see him enter on such a work, and are thankful for these opening prospects; and yet saddening thoughts and human fears will mingle with high hopes: fears of perils by sea and of perils by the heathen. Some at home and here talk of risks, and that the Bishop has enough to do in his immediate diocese, and that it is better to build up what is planted and the like. But it seems like a great instinct in our Bishop’s mind that he must dig foundations and hew stones, and heave them up single-handed; and they that come after him will do the polishing and ornamenting. Not that he is unfitted for the fine work. Few better able than he to construct and build up. But then everybody likes the nice work. Nobody likes the rough beginnings which have no present results and small glorification. Perhaps the very thing needful for him is to go with care on his lonely path sowing precious seed. We would fain see him go in a larger vessel. But he is anxious about incurring any extra expense. He has no fear and has run so many voyages in his little schooner that it is difficult to say much. He and his wife are scrupulously careful in all their own expenses while so large-hearted and handed in everything for the public good.”
The Undine started with a prosperous run of one thousand miles to Anaiteum, made in ten days. Such a voyage was a great rest and refreshment for Selwyn. He wrote to a friend in England:
“Few men are so entirely at their ease at sea, or so able to use every moment of time, perhaps more effectually because with less distraction than on shore. The effect of this is that in a voyage of reasonable duration I can master the elements of a new language sufficiently to enter at once into communications, more or less, with the native people. I feel myself called upon by these natural advantages to carry the Gospel into every island which has not received it.”
At Anaiteum a Presbyterian mission was established, and the Bishop in consequence did not attempt to begin any work there, but had much friendly intercourse with the Scotch missionaries. He met there according to appointment with Captain Erskine, commanding the Havannah, and the Undine accompanied the larger vessel in visits to some other islands. Captain Erskine considered the Bishop’s plan of travelling with no arms of any sort as “one of no little risk.” When he heard that some natives of an island, notorious for its hostility to white men, had been allowed to come on board the Undine, he wrote that he “was ready to allow that it required the perfect presence of mind and dignified bearing of Bishop Selwyn, which seemed never to fail in impressing these savages with a feeling of his superiority, to render such an act one of safety and prudence.”
The Bishop recognized clearly the risks he ran in visiting the different islands and wrote:
“It is quite uncertain from visit to visit in what temper the natives may be found. If any violence or loss of life should have occurred in the interval between the missionary’s visits, his blood may be required as much as that of any other white man.”
On this cruise, which lasted only two months, he went to New Caledonia, the New Hebrides and the Loyalty Isles, and came across many different men of many different kinds.
“On one day it is my lot to keep company with sandal wood traders, and on the next with her Majesty’s Men of War. As sources of information, the sandal wooders are most useful companions; I have received much kindness and civility from them.”
He thus described his future plan for the conversion of the Melanesian islanders: