Some friends accompanied us on board our steamer, and observing that the sky had become overcast with every prospect of a heavy downpour, I endeavoured to persuade them to return to shore, but they said the sky often looked overcast but soon became clear again, and that there would be no rain; still I was not comfortable, and presently induced them to go. Half-an-hour afterwards our time was up, the ship’s gun was fired, and down came the rain in such torrents as made me very apprehensive for the safety of my friends, lest their boat should be swamped. On arriving at New York I found a letter from them informing me that the rain filled the boat so fast that it was with some difficulty they could keep it afloat.
Our vessel was an exceedingly fine one, and was on her first voyage. Her length was 400ft. and she was 40ft. wide across the saloon. The appointments seemed to be all very good, although it soon appeared that she was insufficiently supplied with stewards, the consequence being that the meals were badly served. Everything, however, was done according to rule, and it was curious to see the order in which the various dishes were brought in. The chief steward rang a bell once, and the stewards marched into the saloon in single file, dishes in hand; two rings, right wheel; three times, place dishes on the table; and at the fourth ringing of the bell, remove covers and march out with them. It looked like a pantomime, and caused us considerable merriment. The head steward was a negro, and it was curious to note how he lorded it over the white stewards.
A rough passage of four days brought us to the entrance of Auckland harbour. The previous day it was very stormy, and an albatross which had been following us for some time, frequently flying across the ship between the masts, at length either flew, or was blown, against one of the masts, and fell dead upon the deck.
In approaching the town of Auckland a number of islands of curious shape, surmounted with rocks bearing the appearance of castles are passed. Auckland looks well from the harbour, which is a very fine one; behind the town a mountain rises to a considerable altitude, greatly adding to the picturesqueness of the view.
Our ship was the largest that had ever been in the harbour, and we expected soon to have a number of boats plying for hire, but none appeared until half our limited time had expired, and consequently very few passengers went ashore. We took a quantity of coal on board, the quality of which was very bad, giving off volumes of the densest smoke. It is much inferior to the New South Wales coal, which in its turn is not equal to English.
For the first ten days the Pacific greatly belied its name, being in a state of great commotion the whole time; indeed, most of the way to San Francisco the roll was very considerable. As we neared Kandavu, in the Fiji Islands, the dreaded coral reefs began to come in sight. Some of them stretch out for fifteen miles from the land, and are known to approaching vessels by the white crests of the long lines of breakers. Navigation is very dangerous, and the harbour of Kandavu is a very difficult one to make. Just before entering we passed within fifty feet of the masts of a sunken ship; but, having brought a native pilot from Sydney, we got inside safely. The harbour is exceedingly beautiful. For some distance from the water on each side the ground is covered with cocoa-nut and bread-fruit trees, large ferns, and a great variety of bright green foliage, while beyond is a range of hills of beautiful shapes and well wooded.
It being Sunday only two or three boats made their appearance, the missionaries not permitting the natives to come out to trade or to gratify their curiosity on that day. Knowing this we were not a little amazed to receive a visit presently from the missionaries themselves, who were rowed by eight very intelligent natives, having no clothing worthy of mention. Some of our party taxed the missionaries with their lack of consistency, and were answered that they came “by invitation.” The natives have fine open faces, with good foreheads, bright and restless eyes. They are of a dark chocolate or liver colour. Their hair is very abundant, but they spoil it by putting quicklime upon it, turning it to a dirty reddish brown. Their vivacity is astonishing. They laugh and chatter in a ceaseless chorus, but their language is not musical. One old fellow was particularly voluble; he was in a boat, and was giving instructions to his crew in a fearfully loud voice, which sounded like the slipping of a ship’s cable through the hawser-hole.
It was great fun to watch the children diving for money. If you threw a sixpence into the water they would go after it and catch it before it had gone down many feet, quickly reappearing to ask—like Oliver Twist—for more, and with a grin, disclosing teeth which made us envy them.
Some of our fellow-passengers went ashore, and were much charmed with all they saw. The little children very much delighted them by coming up and putting their hands into those of their visitors, leading them off to show them the bread-fruit and banana trees.