Big Omaha Maritime Historical Trust

Scow racing in years gone by

Scow racing in years gone by.

Stirring contests in Auckland waters.

Smart vessels and hearty crews.

(By P.A. Eaddy) Appearing in the Auckland Star 7 August 1937

The seafaring fraternity of the present generation would find it difficult indeed to visualise the Auckland Harbour some decades ago when the popularity of the old time regatta was at its height. Today it is but a memory cherished to be sure, but dimming with the years. For those who remember are growing old …

In the early newspaper records of the Auckland Anniversary Regattas, it is found that many craft took part in the scows’ races. The sporting element was strong in them, like those old skippers, who lined up at the starters flag with their ungainly vessels. The contrast between the scows with their square bows and sterns, and devoid of bulwarks almost for their whole length, with the trim, white painted yacht like island schooners must have been odd in the extreme.

In spite of the grotesque and lumbering scows, the regattas of the early days were far more picturesque than the fixtures of today. Picture a great land-locked stretch of water alive with sailing craft of every description and in the centre of all activity a beautiful full rigged clipper, gay with vividly coloured bunting and lying peacefully at anchor.

Probably, she would be one of the colonial wool clippers, spick and span with her painted ports and a touch of salmon boot topping showing at her shapely cutwater. The usual practice was to throw the flagship open to the public and her decks would be thronged with happy crowds from the young city. Old fashioned paddle wheel ferries would ply to and fro between the flagship and wharves and as the morning advanced and the wind freshened into a whole sail breeze from the sou’west, the earliest starters would be seen in racing trim and anxious to be off.

Aftermath Events

These first comers would be the island schooners, which raced over a long course around Tiritiri Island. They were more like private yachts than trading vessels and the racing between them was very keen. Occasionally, if the skipper of one vessel disagreed with the judge’s decision, he would issue a challenge to the winning craft and some days later a fresh race over a much longer course would be staged. This would thoroughly test out the contestants and settle conclusively which was the faster. These aftermath tussles created, amongst shipping men especially, a far greater interest even than the actual regatta.

Years later, when the Island schooners were no longer, the same arguments, challenges and final sailing contests took place among the scows, which made quite a brave showing in their own events. In 1884 the scows were sent for the first time on the longer course around Tiri, races before that being over the inside Harbour course.

In that year there were lined up off the flagship the scows Result, 56 tons, Vixen, 25 tons, Progress, 49 tons, Pukapuka, 27 tons, Ruakaka, 44 tons. The flagship was the full rigger Turakina, which made a magnificent spectacle with gaily flying bunting and crowded decks. The wind blew strong from the westward, which gave the contestants a fair wind out to Tiritiri and a beat to windward on the return leg.

Crowding sail upon sail, the scows made a great showing as they left the flagship on the first run down the Harbour. As they rounded North Head they were lost to view to the spectators on the Turakina, but their movements were signalled back from the station on Mount Victoria. Rounding Tiritiri the Result stood to close to the shore and struck Cambria Rock, knocking her centreboard to pieces and bursting her centrecase. She filled quickly, and, being in dire straits signalled for assistance to the steamer Ringarooma, which was inward bound from Sydney. The steamer hurried to the rescue, and passed a towing hawser to the stricken scow.

Battle up to windward

All went well until they came abreast Rangitoto reef, when the Result turned over on her beam ends. Her crew stood by, and, clinging to the upturned hull, were towed in that fashion to an anchorage in the harbour. Here she was taken alongside a barque named the Planter and righted with the aid of tackles from the barque’s rigging.

Meanwhile the four remaining scows were battling up to windward. The little Vixen, with her more shapely hull and round bows and bilges, took up the lead and finished a good first with Pukapuka lying second. In this race the Vixen held her own with the large Island schooners Cygnet, Fanny Thornton and Louie, which were sailing the same course, and opened the eyes of the Island traders, who could scarcely believe a flat-bottomed vessel could show such a fine turn of speed.

Trading cutters also mustered well for their particular race, the old favourite Sovereign of the Seas being the winner with Leo and Mercury following in that order.

For several years after that regatta the scows race was abandoned, as the owners and the skippers of the bona fide square bilge scows refused to race their vessels against the Vixen which they claimed was not a genuine scow. In a sense they were within their rights as the Vixen was in a class by herself, and would have been better matched racing solely with the schooners.

The regatta of 1898 when scows were again racing was a memorable one. Six vessels entered, namely the Shamrock, Pukapuka, Rover, Waipu, Orakei, and Rimu. The wind was fresh from the nor’ east and off North Head the Shamrock, Rover and Waipu collided. The Waipu lost her main mast over the side, but the other two carried on although they had lost their chances of being placed.

Lifting of ban

The race was fought out between Orakei and Pukapuka. The former won a great race after losing her fore top mast in the last leg up the Harbour. As the Orakei rounded North Head on the return she passed close to the dismasted Waipu. The crew of the latter vessel appeared to be enjoying themselves lying at anchor and sheltering under the lee of the centreboard casing amidships.

In 1902 the ban on round bilged scows must have been lifted for then two craft of that description, the Vixen and the Vesper competed in the scows race. Needless to say they were both placed, the Vixen first and the Vesper second. Four years later the event was altered to one for all comers, scows, ketches and schooners taking part.

From 1906 until 1914 the sailing events were well patronised. Among the fastest during those years were the schooner Greyhound, ketches, Will Watch, Tararawa, Endeavour, Albatross and Edna, and the scows, Vesper, Vindex and Vixen. In 1907 the Vesper and Vixen sailed a dead heat, but the ketch Moonah was placed first on time allowance.

The course was sailed around Tiritiri in a strong easterly with a big sea running. The traders made a splendid picture, and on the race back all kites were carried alow and aloft, the competitors being driven to the last ounce. Conditions the following year were quite the contrary and the race developed into a drifting match. The craft were out all day and night, the Vesper being first home the day after the regatta. Throughout the calms and flukey winds were encountered.

A hard sou’wester made the race of 1911 a most exciting fixture. Cracking on canvas was the order of the day and kites were not taken in until, in some cases, they were blown right out of their bolt ropes. In that race the Vindex lost her fore top mast for the second year in succession.

The enthusiasm displayed by the masters and crews of these flat bottomed traders of the New Zealand coast could not have been excelled by the sailors of the trimmest yacht when it came to preparing for a race. Instances occasionally occurred of scows registering as post entries when as far as a hundred miles from Auckland some days before the regatta .

Sporting spirit

Strenuous efforts would be made by all hands aboard to reach Auckland in the scheduled time and sometimes, laden with a full cargo of timber, they would creep slowly into the Harbour the morning of the race. Long before daylight and for many hours without a break the men would toil at discharging the cargo.

At last the scows would be seen heading for the flagship. The crew of the latecomer would feel desperate. Spare sails and gear would come aboard and the timber would be transferred ashore in double quick time. Ringtails and watersails would be lashed hurriedly to the scows booms and gaffs, and all would be in a state of bustle and confusion.

Suddenly the skipper could delay no longer. “That will do the cargo”, he would shout.  “All hands on to getting the vessel away!”  “Set the mains’l and fores’l”. “Replace the mooring lines with slip lines!.”  “Hurry men”.

Order after order would be bellowed forth. “Stand by to take this keg,” would float down the wharf where a brewer’s dray had just arrived and out would roll a welcome 25 gallon keg. Great loads of bread and cheese would follow, for the scows often carried 20 and 30 men in racing crews.

At last the anxiously awaited order would be given. “Let go the for’ard slip line. Give her the heads’ls – back them to wind’ard”. And around she would swing with a great swirl of white water under the lee bow and with slackened sheets and straining gear off she would scamper for the flagship. Little matter if the complete deck load were not discharged – it would act as stiffening ballast when beating into the wind, and, besides, it was the race which counted.

In their sailing races the scows more than proved themselves and when one thinks of them slogging back from Tiritiri hanging onto sail like a veritable clipper, drenched with spray and spume, handled by expert sailormen of a class now almost extinct, cheered to the echo by the exultant spectators in the flagship as the winning vessel slipped past, then one thinks of the sailing scows with a pardonable pride.

 

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