Hanson-Allen Family

80 Years in New Zealand

by Charles Hanson Allen

Chapter Four - Surveying

In June 1886, our survey parties, under Mr John Annabell, District Surveyor, Wanganui, did the trigonomical survey from the coastline between Hawera and Manawatu, and joined the Auckland survey parties on the top of Ruapehu. One party erected the trig station, but Mr Cousins, of Auckland, took the return bearings south from there and saved us climbing up the mountain again.

In the course of this work we had to canoe our supplies up the Wanganui River to the nearest place we were going to, and then swag the food on our backs the rest of the way. We had to go sometimes two of three days distant, and on arrival there we had in the first place to clear the hill selected of all timber near the top of the hill that would interfere with the lighting of the other trig stations. Then we had to build the pyramid with bush timber and calico, put in an iron pipe, and dig a circle around the pipe to identify the place in case of removal by any hostile Maoris. 

During this work, we had to fell many very large trees at Ratanui (large rata tree). On the left bank of the river some thirty miles up, we felled a rata tree, no doubt from which the hill derived its name. It was 23 ft 6 ins by 17 ft 6ins in diameter. It was not a very tall tree, but as it was on the top of the hill, we had to cut it near ground level or the butt would interfere with the lighting. Otherwise we should have just climbed the tree and chopped off the branches only. There were nine of us and it took us nearly 1½ days to chop it all round, and not as usual with a front and back scarf.

I stood on the bottom half before the tree fell, and it would be some six feet from the top of the scarf to the lower one, and some ten or eleven feet in depth. Of course we could not tell which way the tree would fall, but by keeping close to the tree and listening to the cracking just before it fell, we could tell which way it intended to fall and so we were quite safe.

Another very large rimu tree we felled on a hill on the east bank of the Mangawero River opposite Pakihi Clearing, some ten miles south of Ohakune, was 16 ft 4 ins in diameter. It was a very tall tree with a barrel of some eighty feet before there were any branches, and it was perfectly round. We had cleared all the rest of the hill and put up the trig station by the Friday evening, and we usually went to the main camp on Saturday evening. So on Saturday morning we went down to this tree intending to put in the morning chopping what we could do, and then we expected to have to return on Monday to finish it. We tried the tree by tapping it with the backs of our axes, but it seemed as though it was solid right through; but to our surprise it proved to be hollow, with only some 2½ feet of wood round the circumference. And so we felled it before dinner time, although there were three of us on the job.

Shortly after this the boss arrived and Porter, Warner and myself went with him to take the bearings at the various trig stations that were already erected. We did not waste time by following any tracks as a rule, but went as straight as we could from one trig station to the next. After taking the various bearings required, which usually took from two to four hours, we proceeded to the next place. 

On this particular trip we were going down the valley of the Mangawhero River and it was flat or very easy country all covered in medium bush. We went several miles and stopped to boil our billy to make tea and have lunch. After this we proceeded on our way and had not gone far when the boss said, "Charlie, you are going the wrong way, up the valley instead of down."

I said I felt sure that I was going the correct way and Porter said, "I think Charlie's right," Warner said the boss was right, but he was a bit of a crawler and evidently thought it paid to back up the boss.

Annabell said, "Charlie, give me the slasher and I will take the lead." I gave it to him and said, "Mr Annabell, as we are going down the valley on the eastern side, the first stream we come to, the water will be flowing from left to right."

We walked for an hour or so and came to a stream the water in which was flowing from right to left. I said this was the stream we boiled our billy at and had lunch. The boss could not understand it. I said, "Let us go a few chains up the stream and see" - and we found our lunch place.

The boss said, "Charlie, you had better take the lead again," which I did and we arrived at the next station just before dark. There we pitched our fly, had tea, and turned in for our well earned rest. 

During this work, we always got up before daylight, had our breakfast and got to the trig site ready to take our bearings at the break of day. It was generally clear of mist then, and that usually occurred in winter time, as it was then. We had taken a few rounds of bearings when the mist rose and interfered with our work, as we could not see the other station. 

My boss then had a bad attack of neuralgia in the head and was really very sick. So I made up a bed of fern leaves for him and spread out his waterproof sheet and blankets, and made him lie down. I then told him I would call him as soon as the other station was clear of mist, which was not until about 2pm. I then woke him up. He had had a bit of sleep and felt better, and so he finished taking the bearings required.

I always did the booking for him, as he did not seem to be able to get any of the other hands to do this work. After adding the figures, he said, "How did it turn out?" I said, "Beautifully," as all the figures balanced as they should if the work was correct. He said, "Let me have a look at the book." When he said the figures were all wrong, I replied that they were quite correct. Of course I could see that his head was not fit for adding figures. So I took the theodolite to pieces and put it in its two (containers, presumably - ed.), a thing I had never done before, as he would never allow anyone to touch his instrument - even though one was quite competent to do so.

We hoped to get to the Parapara on Field's Track that night if possible. So we divided the boss' things between the rest of us and started on our way. However, this track was following the top of the ridge and the boss was the only one of us who had travelled it before, and he was so unwell that he could remember nothing of the track. So we pushed on.

One who is used to bush work knows that when following down a main ridge there are other spurs running off it, and it is quite easy to take down one of these spurs, then you have to retrace your steps to the main ridge again. 

We had done this several times and then a heavy thunder storm with heavy rain started - and a few of these drops wet one through. The boss wanted me to stop and camp, but I said no, it was no use stopping now, so push on and try to get to the Parapara.

We went on, and then it became dark and we were on a razor back ridge only just wide enough to walk on. So I said, "Let's bang down into the valley. There must surely be flat enough ground there to put one fly up." After a few hills on the way, we got to the bottom and there was a sloping mud flat about fifty feet wide, sloping to a small stream. 

The lower side of this flat had evidently been covered by the stream not long ago, as there was about a foot of soft mud still on it. However, we made the best of things and erected one fly. I tried to find some tree fern to get the leaves for bedding, but could only find one in the dark. I climbed up this, and it only had one leaf about seven feet long with a rib about two inches thick at the lower part of it. So I took it along and laid it down, saying, "Boys, this is the best I can do for you."

We managed to boil our billy for tea, but it took about an hour to do so as all the wood was wet. One man had to keep blowing the fire with his mouth all the time, as otherwise it would have gone out. We were out of sugar and had about one pound of stick bread between the four of us. 

'Stick bread' is made of flour, soda, acid and salt, and usually mixed in the flour in the bag. Then you get a few straight sticks about one inch in diameter. Scrape the bark off the sticks and point each end. The dough is then twisted around the stick and toasted before the fire, turning the stick as the bread browns. Then the bread is drawn off the stick and is very like French roll, and if well cooked, is very nice eaten hot with butter.

We ate our stick bread and drank our tea, and then struck matches  for each other to get into his blankets. We just dropped our clothes and boots on the ground as they could not possibly get any wetter.

Our blankets were quite dry then, as each man had a rubber sheet to pack them in, and if they were packed properly and strapped tightly, one could even swim a river without the contents getting wet.

We were all fairly comfortable until about midnight, when Porter said to me, "Have you any matches handy? My back is very cold." I lighted a match and we found that the stream had risen through the heavy rain, which had kept on all night. It had come up over the place Porter was sleeping on, and there was water in the impression his shoulders and posterior had made in the soft mud under him and on top of his waterproof sheet.

I gave him one of my dry blankets and took one of his wet ones, and put it outside mine. Later on the stream kept rising and then we had to sit up to keep our heads out of the water. We remained this way with elbows on our knees to hold our heads up until daylight. This was mid-winter.

We then got up and hunted under the water for clothes and boots, and after wringing all the water we could out of them, dressed and also rung out our blankets and the fly. Finally, after a further three hours' tramp, we arrived at the Parapara Pa.

Before we arrived there, we gave them a few cooees, and when we finally got there they had a good log fire going in their whare and a good feed cooked for us. They lent us dry blankets and we stayed with them the rest of the day. The Maori women also kindly dried our clothes and blankets for us.

The boss was quite alright next morning and strangely enough, not one of us had even a slight cold from our cold, wet and unpleasant night before. I must say it had seemed a very long night to me.

My brother, Fred, met us at the Parapara with horses and we rode the forty miles to Wanganui next day - safe and sound.

After a few days spell at Wanganui, we were to go by canoe to Ranana, about fifty miles up the river. The Government had just at that time chartered the steamer 'Tuhua' to take the Commissioner up to the Waimarino Block. This was in connection with the final arrangements for the purchase of this block of nearly half a million acres from the Maoris. The block was mostly very heavy bush, except for some 50,000 acres of open tussock land at about the middle of the block.

Our boss said, "Let's wait until tomorrow and we can get a tow up instead of having to pole the canoe all the way." So next morning we started being towed, and had all our goods and chattels on board the steamer. All went well until we had gone about fifteen miles, and we were having a good time. I remember I was smoking a big fat cigar and reading Mark Twain's 'Jumping Frog' and other stories. 

Just then I heard something go wrong with the machinery behind me, and I knew instinctively that something was wrong. I had just made a big jump along the deck from the paneled engine room door, against which I had been leaning, when about half of the end of the cylinder blew through the door. I suppose it weighed about 1½ cwt. and would have broken my back had I not jumped when I did. 

The boiler on the steamer was in the bow, and cylinders, one on each side at the stern and about 2½ feet in circumference, were connected by steam pipes from the boiler.

I told the boat's engineer about hearing the machinery going wrong before I jumped, but he said it would be impossible for me to have done so after the coupling pins in the cylinder had broken. I said I did not care what he thought, because I had done so.

The steamer then had to go back on one cylinder to Wanganui for repairs and did not expect to get back again for a day or two. So we loaded our canoe and started poling up the river for the rest of the day. We did not make much progress, as there was a fair amount of floodwater in the river.

We went on until nearly dark, and then landed and pitched our tents. It rained heavily all night and so we did not get up as early as we usually did. We were just starting our breakfast when we heard the steamer's whistle about a mile down the river. So we hurriedly threw our breakfasts away and very roughly packed our swags etc., and loaded everything into our canoe to be ready to catch the steamer.

We put off from the bank and our first chain-man, Mr Chas. Pemberton, was steering the canoe. I being and old and experienced (fairly) canoeman, said, "Pemberton, you will run us into the steamer."

He took no notice of what I had said and proceeded the same way as he was doing. So I repeated what I had said. The steamer was at that time about a quarter mile below us. My boss, Mr Annabell, said to leave him alone, as he was steering.

I said to Porter next to me, "Jack, I'll bet you a pound that he puts us across the steamer." But before Porter could reply to what I said would happen, it occurred, and the steamer bow hit our canoe about fifteen feet from our bow. The collision upset our canoe and put everybody and everything into the river - except Porter and myself, who both jumped onto the steamer, climbed over the railing, and got onboard. None of the others could do so, as there was building along the side of the steamer which prevented them from doing so. 

Porter and I ran to the stern of the steamer and caught hold of our canoe as it came to the surface, and held onto it until we got all but two of our party onboard. Warner said that he had gone right under the steamer and under the paddle wheel. But we think in his fright that he had imagined that he had done so.

C. Pemberton swam out and got hold of the Theodolite, which was floating as the boss always made us strap two big slabs of cork onto it when we travelled by canoe. Otherwise it would have sunk.

We said that Pemberton grabbed the Theodolite to save himself from being drowned, but this was of course all bunkum, as he was a good swimmer. Porter and I pushed off from the steamer in a Maori canoe - five or six were towing up by the steamer at the time - and we picked up all things that were floating - swags, oars, paddles, poles, etc. - but all the flour, sugar and other goods were lost. I think every one of us lost a new pair of leggings and extra boots that we were taking for winter use, as we did not expect to be back at Wanganui for some months. We lost all our axes and slashers. I lost my particular axe that I was very fond of, as I could chop maire - one of our hardest bush timbers - and it would still keep such a keen edge that you could have shaved with it if necessary, and while most axes would have big gaps, or very likely the whole face would come off.

We got our canoe and all that remained floating, and again got to the steamer, which had waited above the rapid where it had collided with us.

I might add that below all rapids there is a strong eddy at each side of the river, which runs upstream, while the main current in the centre runs downstream. Had Pemberton gone straight out into the main stream, he would have been alright. However, what he did was keep in the upstream eddy and put the nose of the canoe into the main stream. This caused the canoe to turn round broadside across the bow of the steamer.

We then went on as far as Ranana, and as all of us were wet through, we borrowed clothes from the crew and passengers while we hung out our clothes and blankets about the deck to dry. Had we had the time before the steamer arrived, we should have had all our clothes and blankets packed in their rubber sheets and strapped up tight, and they would not have got wet.

The fireman, Bill Rees, lent me a pair of trousers, but as he was over six feet, I had to roll up about a couple of feet at the bottom. Mr W.T. Owen lent me  long-tailed coat, and I think I must have looked a bit of a sight to the others, but I was dry and comfortable anyhow.

The steamer 'Tuhua' was built in Wanganui by Murray Ltd., and there was no guarantee when the Company ordered her, as to what water she would draw or whether she would be powerful enough to steam up the rapids. The Company wished to give the local people a chance, which might have been quite satisfactory had there been a clear guarantee that she would do all required of her. Otherwise it would have been far better to send to the USA for a suitable river steamer. They say that their boats can climb a bank and go across country after a heavy dew.

The steamer 'Tuhua' was a boat that Capt. Marshall, though a very skillful man, could not get to keep in the middle of the river. She would first run into the bank on one side of the river, and then onto the other side. She managed to smash up four out of the five Maori canoes that she was towing up, much to the great grief and many lamentations of the Maori owners. We kept a very sharp look out on the last canoe, and let her drop back at the least chance of danger, and so saved her.

Luckily when the steamer ran us down, her bows hit onto a thick iron band, while the canoe had many of (word missing?) to keep the top sides in their place. But it was nearly cut through, although it was about four inches wide by half an inch thick, or the canoe would have been cut in half. As it was, we only had a long crack along the side, which we easily repaired and made waterproof with hemp and pitch. We got some food and tools from the Pipiriki Store as the steamer returned, and other things later from Wanganui.

Near Ranana I was digging the circle round the trig station, which happened to be a low hill, the top of which was in good English grass. While doing so, I cut through the skeleton of a man. We took the bones out and hurriedly buried them, and said nothing about it as we thought the Maoris would cause trouble.

A few years later, I asked the Maoris there if anyone had been buried on that hill. They asked why I enquired. So I told them about my digging through the skeleton and they said they thought it must have been some stray traveller. The skeleton was in perfect order and the teeth good and sound, and it was only just under the surface of the ground

There was a beautiful large lemon tree by the river at Ranana where our base camp was. It was always full of fruit, ripe and green, and flowers. But on our return a few weeks later, this tree was cut down. I asked an old man why this was, and he said the boys were always picking the fruit. Rather drastic I thought.

I had to engage some extra men a little later on when at Wanganui, and my instructions were never to take men who could not swim. So I asked men who wanted to join my party if they could swim, and they said they could. I took them on, and on out first trip up the river by canoe, one of them was behind me poling up a rapid, when his pole hit a stone or some other obstacle, and he shot overboard. I went on, as we could not very well stop until above this rapid, and I did not worry about the man overboard, as this was quite a common occurrence. 

However, this man could not swim, though he said he could. Well, of course (word missing ?) blame him under the circumstances, but he would have drowned for sure, had it not been for a man on a punt just below. He saw him fall over and as he passed the punt under water, the man on the punt hauled him out with a boat hook.

To be continued.... (19 March 2005)