The ship thus brought to our rescue was a New England whaler, that had
been cruising about in pursuit of the sperm whale. The captain asked
six hundred dollars for taking our whole community to New Zealand.
The demand was by no means extortionate. Indeed, it was a moderate
sum--considering the trouble and expense he would have to incur: since
he had already lost a good deal of time on his way to the island.
The voyage to New Zealand might occupy several weeks--during which time
we would be consuming no small quantity of his stores.
But although this price was not too much for the Yankee skipper to ask,
it was more than the Dutch skipper was able to pay: since the latter had
not got the money.
The passengers were called upon to subscribe the amount. Most of them
objected. They had paid a passage once, they said, and would not pay it
over again.
To this the captain of the whaler made a very reasonable rejoinder. If
there were just grounds for believing that the money could not be
obtained, he would have to take us without it: for he could never leave
so many men on so small an island, where they might perish for want of
food and water. But as we did not claim to be out of funds, the fault
would be our own if he departed without us, which he would certainly do,
unless the passage-money was paid. He also gave us warning, that we
might expect to put up with many inconveniences upon his ship. She was
not a passenger-vessel, nor was he supplied with provisions for so many
people.
It was clear that the six hundred dollars must be raised some way or
other; and a movement was immediately set on foot to collect it.
Many of the passengers declared that they had no money. Some of them
spoke the truth; but the difficulty was to learn who did, and who did
not.
Amongst others, who solemnly declared that they had no money, was a
ruffian, who had been selling tobacco at the rate of forty dollars per
pound. This fact was communicated by the individual, who had
repurchased, and paid so dearly, for his own weed.
The fellow was now emphatically informed, that unless he paid his share
of the passage-money, he would be left behind upon the island.
This threat had the desired effect. He succeeded in finding the
required cash; and after much wrangling, the sum of six hundred dollars
was at length made up.
Next day we were taken aboard the whaler; and sailed away from the
island in a direct course for the port of Auckland.
I never made a more disagreeable voyage than on board that whaler.
There were several reasons that rendered the passage unpleasant. One
was, that all on board were in an ill-conditioned frame of mind; and,
consequently, had no relish for being either civil or sociable. The
diggers had been detained several weeks--on their way to a land they
were anxious to reach in the shortest possible time--and they now were
to be landed at Auckland instead of Sydney. Another voyage would have
to be made, before they could arrive at the gold fields of Australia--of
which they had been hearing such attractive tales.
We were not even favoured with a fair breeze. On the contrary, the wind
blew most of the way against us; and the ship had to make about three
hundred miles, while carrying us only fifty in the right direction.
The whaler, moreover, was an old tub--good enough for her proper
purpose, but ill adapted for carrying impatient passengers on their way
to a new gold field.
She was kept as much into the wind as possible; but withal made so much
lee-way, that her course was side-ways--in the same manner as a pig
would go into a battle.
There were no accommodations either for sleeping, or eating the little
food we were allowed; and we were compelled to rough it in the most
literal sense of the phrase.
By the time we should have reached Auckland, we were not half the
distance; and both the provisions and water of the ship were well nigh
consumed.
Between seventy and eighty hungry and thirsty men--added to the original
crew of the whaler--had made a greater destruction of his ship's stores
than the captain had calculated upon; and the third week, after leaving
the island, we were put on an allowance of one quart of water per diem
to each individual. Meat was no longer served out to us; and simple,
though not very sweet, biscuits became our food. We were also allowed
rice; but this, without garnishing, was still more insipid than the
biscuits.
We thought it hard fare, and complained accordingly, although we had but
little reason for doing so. We could only blame our fate, or our
fortune; and so the captain of the whaler was accustomed to tell us.
"I warned you," he would say, "that you might expect to have a hard time
of it. I'm sure I did not advertise for you to take passage in my
vessel, and you have no reason to complain. I do the best for you I
can. You are growling about having to eat rice. Millions of people
live on it for years, while working hard. You have only to live on it
for a few days, and do nothing. I hope, for both our sakes, it won't
last long."
It was just, because they were _doing nothing_ that the grumblers were
so loud in their complaints.
In justice to many of the passengers, I should state, that those who
complained the most were the very men who had paid nothing towards
remunerating the captain for his services. They were some of the worst
characters aboard; and, without making any allowance for the
circumstances under which we were placed, found fault with everything on
the whaler. I believe, they did so for the simple reason that she was
an American ship.
Luckily we reached Auckland at last, though not a day too soon: for by
the time we sighted land the patience of the passengers with each other,
and their temper towards the captain, were well nigh exhausted. Had we
remained at sea a few hours longer, some strange scenes would have taken
place on the whaler, which all aboard of her would not have survived to
describe.
No doubt the Yankee captain saw us go over the side of his ship with
much heart-felt satisfaction, though certainly this feeling was not all
to himself. His late passengers, one and all, equally participated in
it.
I saw but very little of Auckland, or rather of the country around it;
but, from that little, I formed a very favourable opinion of its natural
resources and abilities; and I believe that colony to be a good home for
English emigrants.
Being myself a Rolling Stone, I did not regard it with the eyes of a
settler; and therefore I might be doing injustice either to the colony
itself, or to intending emigrants, by saying much about it.
Guided by recent experiences, there is one thing I can allege in favour
of New Zealand as a colony, which, in my opinion, makes it superior to
any other; that is, that a home can be there had _farther away from
London_, than in any other colonial settlement with which I am
acquainted.
From Auckland to reach any part of Australia required a further outlay
of six pounds sterling.
The gold-diggers thought this rather hard--alleging that they had
already paid their passage twice; but they were forced to submit to
circumstances.
For myself, after remaining in Auckland a few days, I obtained a passage
in a small vessel sailing for Sydney, which port we reached, after a
short and pleasant run of nine days' duration.
I had been exactly five months in getting from San Francisco to Sydney--
a voyage that, under ordinary circumstances, might have been made in
fifty days!
Volume Two, Chapter XIV.