Bishop Selwyn and his party left Plymouth on December 26th, 1841, in the Tomatin. The long voyage in a sailing vessel was spent in preparing for the work that was before them. To Selwyn’s great joy there was a Maori boy on board who could be used to teach him and his party the Maori language. Lady Martin thus describes the voyage:
“We had a quiet, prosperous voyage in a small barque which would be thought very squeezy nowadays. We had none of the modern luxuries required in steamers—no fresh bread, no stewardess to wait on us, no delicate fare. But we had compensations of an unusual kind. If we had plain living, we certainly had the opportunity of high thinking. Our party consisted of the Bishop of New Zealand, his two chaplains, both men of great gifts, and other clergymen and students. There were daily classes after breakfast for all who wished to learn the native language. There was no printed Maori grammar, only a manuscript grammar and vocabulary, and copies of S. Matthew’s Gospel, just printed by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge. But we had a walking dictionary in a Maori boy, who had been brought to England by a gentleman and sent to school for two years. He was not a favourable specimen, for he had been the plaything of the servant’s hall in holiday time, and had little more than superficial civilization. However, he was very useful on board, and undertook to teach correct pronunciation.”
The Bishop writes in a letter to his mother:
“On Monday, January 3rd, we began regular habits; reading the daily prayers at eight in the morning, and the Psalms and Lessons, in the original languages, each at their appointed hour. Besides this, there is a New Zealand class, comprising nearly all the party, and a mathematical class for the study of navigation. The whole of the morning is thus occupied, leaving the evening to the discretion of the party, and for preparation for the next day. On Church festivals when the full service is read, the Eton practice of a whole holiday is followed. The advantage of this regular plan is generally admitted, as, instead of the voyage being tedious, very few find the day long enough. We have taken different departments for the study of the New Zealand language. Mr. Cotton and Mr. Reay are making a Concordance of the native Testament. I am compiling from the Rarotonga, Tahitian and New Zealand translations of the New Testament, a Comparative Grammar of those three dialects, which are all from the same root and illustrate one another. I hope to be quite familiar with the three dialects by the end of the voyage, which will much facilitate the plan which I have conceived—and which may God give me grace to carry into effect—of extending the branches of the Church of New Zealand throughout the Southern Pacific.
“I am studying practical navigation under our captain in order that I may be my own Master in my visitation voyages.”
One of the clergy of the party was appointed as chaplain to the steerage passengers, two others as chaplains to the crew. There were daily prayers in the steerage, and the steerage passengers attended all the public services. In Holy Week one of the six clergy on board was chosen to preach every day, and on a lovely Easter day, service was held on the quarterdeck when thirty-four communicated.
On April 10th Selwyn was able to write to his mother:
“I can now converse with Rupai fluently in New Zealand. My navigation has prospered, so that I can now find the ship’s latitude and longitude, and shape her course.”
On April 14th, 1842, the ship reached Sydney. There Selwyn had the opportunity of meeting Bishop Broughton and learning from him something about the affairs of the Church in this new world. Broughton was filled with affection and respect by what he saw of the new Bishop, and inspired with great hopes for the work he might be able to accomplish.
The Tomatin had received some damage in going up Sydney harbour, and the Bishop was too impatient to wait till its repairs were completed. He succeeded in chartering a small brig to convey him and a few others of his party to New Zealand, without waiting for the Tomatin. There had been those who dreaded the coming of a bishop, thinking that the conditions of New Zealand were not suitable for an ecclesiastical dignitary. Captain Hobson had said: “What can a bishop do in New Zealand, where there are no roads for his coach?” The Bishop’s conduct soon dispelled all doubts. He landed at Auckland on May 31st. His first act on reaching the shore was to kneel down on the sands and give thanks to God. On the following Sunday, to the delight of all, he said prayers and preached in Maori. The next place he visited was Paihai, and Mrs. Williams thus describes his arrival in her diary:
“While Henry was engaged with his Bible class, William came in and exclaimed: ‘the Bishop of New Zealand on the beach!’ He went down and found the Bishop dragging up a boat in which they had come from Cape Brett, steering for this house with a pocket compass. The Bishop’s manner was most prepossessing. When summoned to tea, both the Bishop and his Chaplain seemed surprised at the long tea table of the two families of Williams, set for twenty-four.”