A Vanishing Fleet

A VANISHING FLEET—THE TRADING SCOWS OF AUCKLAND

NEW ZEALAND’S OWN.

UGLY DUCKLING of SEA.

(By P.A.Eaddy)

Article in Auckland Star 17 July 1937)

Born of humble beginnings, to grow thrive and blossom with the passage of time, craft of one kind or another with odd peculiarities and personalities all their own, have, since the days of the ancient Phoenician, graced -the waterway, of every sea girt nation of the world.

Think of China and its turgid, teeming Yangtse Kiang, and the fIeet, ungainly junks spring to mind. Just as China has her junks and the Arabs their dhows, so have the Japanese their sampans, the Melanesians their lakatois, the Nova Scotiamen their bluenose schooners, the Portuguese their caravels but to mention but a few. There are still the cutters and ketches of the Pacific Islands the kanakas’ outrigger canoes, the Baltic Sea barques, and a hundred and one other vessels of a hundred and one types and descriptions. But what of New Zealand? What of the tiny island colony, the insular, insignificant red dots down under the Southern Cross? Has New Zealand ever produced a type of vessel all her own? The answer is that New Zealand has a vessel which is New Zealand through and through -the scow. The lowly, complacent, angular scow the object often, of scorn, abuse and vilification by sailors who manned the deep watermen of a day gone by; the boxlike contraption which developed into a well rigged and seaworthy craft of no mean performance in its later years; in brief the scow was and is inseparably linked with the name of this country.

Remarkable Sailing Qualities.

But that same self-effacing little vessel was built for a purpose. She was given her block-ended and shallow hull because she was required to accomplish a heavy, thankless task no other vessel could attempt. And the fact that she fulfilled that obligation truly and well without complaint and without resentment, sometimes under the hand of a driving commander and an unappreciative crew, only shows what a stout craft fine was.

The ugly duckling, the Cinderella of the mercantile marine, she performed a noble service for man and bore up against adversity like the patient draught horse. What she lacked aesthetically she more than made up in utility. Beast of burden she may have been, compared with her queenly sisters of the deep, but she was not the sluggard detractors chose to paint her and she possessed sailing qualities remarkable for her design. The very name “scow” conveys little or nothing it owes its derivation to the Dutch “schouw”—to many New Zealanders, particularly inland or in the southern portions of the Dominion. Many of them have never heard it. Maybe that is their misfortune. It is probable also that they never heard the lilting swing of Frank Jessup’s stirring stanza:

Squat and low in the sea she wallows.

Booms a-swing to the sea which follows;

Sullen to answer her guiding hand

A timber scow out of Maoriland.

Possibly the poet has treated the scow a little unkindly. Possibly he could have been a trifle more sympathetic in the choice of his words—but then, the scow does not want praise. If, in the, early years of settlement, the upper portions of the North Island had not been densely draped in timber; if there had been large, easily reached rivers to float the logs to the sea, there would, as likely as not, have been no scows. And so, the scow does not complain.

Beginning in Auckland.

Auckland was like that. It nestled on the side of a large landlocked and sheltered harbour and there was not the draught for deep keel vessels to load the timber felled in the hinterland. Thus Auckland, although the idea first originated in the great inland waterways of Canada and the United States, was an ideal birthplace- for the flat-bottomed, square-bilge scows.

In those days, 70 and 80 years ago, the kauri pine flourished on the shores of the Hauraki Gulf and small bush sawmills were established along the coast. It was at these mills that the first scows loaded their freights, and with their decks piled high with massive logs weighing singly up to as much as 10 tons, they soon became a familiar sight around Auckland waters. They were peculiar in that they carried the whole of their cargo on deck.

The genuine log and timber scows boasted no fine lines at all; square on the bilge, square on” the bluff of the bows, square of stern, with square chimes, their hulls were far from things of beauty, and yet, when one considers the mission for which they were constructed, it is realised that they could not have been greatly improved. The centre-board was an innovation of later years, and the earliest’ scows were fitted with leeboards instead. Although these are of proven worth on Thames barges their presence among New Zealand’s scows was of short duration.

This unwieldy appliance was soon superseded by centre-boards, which were easily worked and more suitable for the stretches of rough water in the open, and they did not give the commander the same anxiety in a seaway. As time went on the scows grew in size, and as many as three centre-boards were fitted to one vessel although the foremost was small and labelled a “fin.” The rudder, also, was the object of frequent criticism, gross and clumsy as it appeared, but it, too, was placed there for utilitarian reasons.

The Vixen.

The fleetest sailer among the earlier scows was the little Vixen, a flat-bottomed craft with rounded bows and bilges. She was built in 1883 by Charles Bailey, one of the most capable and best known ship, yacht and boat builders ever in Auckland. In size she could not be compared with big sisters of later years, but her name will ever be revered as one of the fastest of their class. Built to the order of Captain James Biddick for the transportation of cattle and sheep between the islands and ports of coastal Auckland, she made a name for herself almost from her launching. In the annual regatta of 1884, which was held in a strong breeze from the west’ard, the Vixen showed the way home in the scows’ race, which was held that year for the first time over the same course as the island schooners race. The course was around Tiri, outside the Auckland harbour, and back off the flagship at Auckland, a distance of 50 miles. Even though fast schooners also competed, such as the Cygnet, Fanny Thornton and Louie, which were regular traders to the South Sea Islands from Auckland, the Vixen rolled home in effortless style. The Pukapuka and the Orakei came next as regards speed, both these being genuine square bilge scows.

In the early eighteen-nineties the trading scows began to improve in build and rig. The hulk, although still flat-bottomed, were given more sheer, and with this greater lift in the bows and a cleaner entrance forward, they resembled in appearance deep draught vessels. The rig received its due attention, and many compared very favourably aloft with the spic and span island schooners. Their well scraped masts and spars and carefully blackened down rigging with not a ropeyarn out of place, were a credit to them. These later scows were lofty and carried a great press of sail and stood up to the weather well in a fresh breeze with gaff tops’ls, main topmast stays’ls and flying jibs sets, while many schooners would be scudding along under lower canvas.

It was a fascinating sight to watch a timber scow come into port and discharge her heavy burden of kauri logs. Up the harbour she would sweep, resembling from a distance a huge piled-up raft of logs urged along by the stretch of sail aloft. Then in would come her gaff tops’ls, down her three, and sometimes four, heads’ls, and with a roar her anchor would plunge to the bottom as she came shaking into the wind outside the booms of one of the mills. Her two great fore and afters would subside with a threshing of canvas and a squeal of blocks into subdued masses between the crane lines which stretched spiderlike from her boom topping lift.

Then agile figures would be seen climbing over her deck load of logs casting off parbuckling chains and cargo I lashings. Suddenly, with a mighty splash and roar, her first log would hit the water, to be followed in rapid succession by the remainder, the scow rolling like a beast in pain as each hurtled from the deck. Once in the water, the logs were soon rafted together and pulled into booms, where the mill hands took charge.

Well-known Scows.

Among the earlier scows, and some of the best known, two and three decades ago were the Shamrock and Excelsior, both, of 51 tons and built in 1893; the Irene, built 1889; the Rover, 1893; the Bee, 1891; the Rimu, 1895; the Bravo, 1897; the Scout, 1892; the Pirate, 1895; the Whakapai, 1896; the Herald, 1898, and the Ngaru, 1898. The .Shamrock and the Excelsior were keen competitors at the annual regattas and both could show a good turn of speed. Of the above the Pirate was the largest and was rigged as a three-masted tops’l schooner. She traded for a while on the New Zealand coast and later entered the inter-colonial running, carrying kauri across the Tasman and returning with Australian hardwood. Eventually she was lost in tragic circumstances on Portland Island.

Gradually the older scows went out of commission, some being lost at sea, some broken up or converted into towing barges, and others being buried under reclaimed mud flats or left rotting in some quiet backwater. Quite an interesting account could be written of these timber droghers and their voyages and ultimate endings, and in the continuation of this series some of the more notable of them, and the men under whom, they sailed, will be discussed.