into New Zealand came from the archipelago of Tonga-Tabou,18 which is situated some twelve hundred miles to the north.
There are, basically, two reasons that this population is decreasing rapidly and destined to disappear in the future. The first cause is illness, especially pulmonary phthisis, which wreaks great devastation among Maori families. The second, still more terrible, is drunkenness, and it is to be noted that Maori women are first in rank in this dreadful abuse of alcoholic liquors.
In addition, there is reason to believe that the Maoris’ eating habits have been profoundly modified. Thanks to the missionaries, the influence of Christianity has become dominant. The natives were cannibalistic in days gone by,19 and who would dare say that such ultra-nitrogenous food did not suit their temperament? Be that as it may, it’s better that they disappear rather than eat each other, “although,” as a very observant tourist once said, “cannibalism never had but one goal, battle: devouring the eyes and heart of the enemy in order to become inspired by his courage and to acquire his wisdom!”
Maori arms and musical instruments*
These Maoris resisted British invasion until 1875; it is at that time when the last Maori leader of the King Country region surrendered to the authority of Great Britain.
Around six o’clock, Mr. Hawkins, the captain, and Nat Gibson returned to the office for dinner. Then, after saying goodbye to Mr. Balfour, they had themselves brought to the brig, which would be ready to hoist anchor at the first glimmer of dawn.
*Facsimile of an illustration published in the Great Voyages and Great Navigators by Jules Verne (Hetzel’s note).
*Facsimile of an illustration published in the Great Voyages and Great Navigators by Jules Verne (Hetzel’s note).
5
A Few Days at Sea
It was six o’clock in the morning when the James Cook hoisted anchor and, with all sails set, began to get under way. The captain had to maneuver his way through the harbor and leave it through a narrow opening. After skirting Point Nicholson, thanks to much tacking, he found where the headwind was gusting and entered with the opposing wind blowing from the north. But when the ship reached Orokiva,1 the sea breeze from the west allowed the captain to cross at close quarters the vast gulf along Ikana-Maoui’s coast between Wellington and New Plymouth, beyond Cape Egmont.2
The James Cook, cutting diagonally across the bay, thus sailed away from land and would approach it again only at the latitude of the aforementioned Cape.
The distance to cover along the western shore of North Island was about a hundred miles. With a steady breeze it could be crossed in three days. Moreover, given the wind’s direction, it would be impossible to remain in sight of the coast, whose hydrographic contours Harry Gibson knew perfectly. There would be no difficulty for the brig in maintaining its proper distance.
This first day went by under quite pleasant conditions. Mr. Hawkins and Nat Gibson, seated near their quarters, indulged themselves in the delightful sights and sounds that a ship at sea can provide. Leaning a bit under the wind, the brig rapidly cut through the long swells, leaving behind a frothy wake. The captain was walking back and forth, with quick glances at the binnacle facing the helmsman, and exchanging a few words with the passengers. Half the crew was forward on watch, the other half was resting in their quarters, after having received their morning rations. Several fishing lines had been cast off the stern and by lunchtime they would not be pulled in without bringing in some of the fish that were so numerous in these seas.
It is also well known that the localities around New Zealand are highly frequented by whales, which are hunted with great success. In this vast bay, a number of them appeared around the brig, and they easily could have been caught.
This led Mr. Hawkins to tell the captain as they watched these enormous mammals:
“I have always wanted to combine whaling with coastal trade, Gibson, and I believe the one would bring in as much profit as the other.”
“It’s possible,” replied the captain, “and the whalers who reach these waters easily fill their hold with barrels of oil, fat, and whale bone.”
“In Wellington they say,” Nat Gibson observed, “that whales are easier to catch here than elsewhere.”
“It’s true,” said the captain, “and that is based on the fact that they have less hearing ability than other species. So you can get within harpoon distance of them. By and large, any whale you catch sight of, you can catch, period. Well, unless bad weather takes over. Unfortunately, storms are just as numerous as they are fearsome in these seas.”
“Agreed,” Mr. Hawkins replied,” someday we’ll outfit for whaling …”
“With some other captain, then, my friend. Each has his own way, and I’m no whaler.”
“With some other captain, fine, Gibson, and with some other ship too, for it takes a special outfitting that the James Cook wouldn’t allow for.”
“No doubt, Hawkins, a ship that can take on two thousand barrels of oil during some campaign that might last as much as two years, and longboats for pursuing the beasts, and a crew numbering as many as thirty or forty men, harpooners, coopers, blacksmiths, carpenters, sailors, apprentices, at least three officers and a doctor.”
“Father,” affirmed Nat Gibson, “Mr. Hawkins would not neglect anything that this type of outfitting requires.”
“It’s an expensive undertaking, my boy,” answered the captain, “and in my opinion, in this part of the Pacific, coastal trade yields more dependable results. Some of these whaling expeditions have been ruinous. I might add that whales have sometimes been hunted out, so they tend to move toward the polar seas.3 To find them, you have to go to the Bering Straits, the Kourile Islands,4 or the Antarctic seas. These make for long and perilous trips, and more than one ship has never returned.”
“After all, my dear Gibson,” the shipowner said, “this is only an idea. We’ll see about it later on. Let’s just stick to coastal waters, since they have always turned out well, and then sail the brig back to Hobart Town with a good cargo in its hold.”
Toward six o’clock in the evening, the James Cook crew came in sight of the coastline along the Waimah Bay and across from the small ports of Ohawe.5 A few clouds appearing on the horizon made the captain decide to lower the topgallant sails and take reefs in the topsails. It is moreover a precaution taken by all ships sailing in this area, where the gusts of wind are as sudden as they are violent, and every night the crew pulls in the sails for fear of being surprised.
And, in fact, the brig was fairly well buffeted until dawn. It had to move out a few miles, having noticed the lights of Cape Egmont.6 When day had come, the brig passed by the harbor of New Plymouth, one of the important cities of North Island.
The wind had grown during the night. It was now a stormy gale. The crew was unable to use the topgallant sails, which had been tightened the day before, and Mr. Gibson had to be content to shake out the reefs from the topsail that had been drawn the night before.
