which, here necessarily abridged, is given by the writer referred to in our introductory chapter, when acting in the capacity of special correspondent to the Otago Daily Times, during the editorship of Mr, now Sir, Julius Vogel.
DUNEDIN TO PRESERVATION INLET.
The steamer “Geelong,” commanded by Captain Thomas Hart, and under contract with the Provincial Government of Otago, sailed for the West Coast of that Province on the 5th of December 1867. She was advertised to proceed to Martin’s Bay, and to call at the various inlets en route. Freely translated, this meant that she was to call at as many of the inlets which intersect the coast between Preservation Inlet and Milford Sound as it was possible for her to visit, with a due regard to the quantity of coal she could carry, and to the other circumstances which are not yet quite within human control. The voyage was not intended to be a trading one, although it was not destitute of the elements of business. It was only an exploring expedition—an expedition for the exploration of probably the most interesting and romantic portion of the whole Colony of New Zealand—and by no means the least considerable, though previously the least considered, part of the Otago Provincial Estate. It cannot receive special record as the first voyage of exploration to the West Coast; but there must be a mistake somewhere, if it does not prove to be not only not the last expedition of the kind, but the precursor of many more. Those who were passengers were chiefly official:—His Honour the Superintendent, Mr James Macandrew (subsequently Minister of Public Works for the Colony), the Secretary for Land and Works, Mr Duncan, a member of the Survey Department, Mr Wright, and the Harbourmaster, Captain Thomson, with one of his apprentice pilots, Mr Liddle. As cabin passengers there were other six gentlemen, of various tastes, and from different parts of the Province; and passages and provisions were given by the Provincial Government to eight or ten good practical miners, who, however, as it happened, had not much opportunity of proving their skill.
Familiar as the eastern coast may be, it was not destitute of objects of interest to those who were out in search of the picturesque, or of subjects for reflection for those who had a preference for the practical. As the sun rose, and took his breakfast by “eating up the wind,” as our chief officer characterised the gradual reduction in the strength of the breeze, the magnificent valley of the Clutha was visible, with the Nuggets as the marked feature in the fore-ground, and in the dim distance the Tapanui Range. These were the elements of the picturesque. A practical question, which was not then suggested, but which might well be put, is—How long will it be before an equally eligible harbour, the Hollyford, in Martin’s Bay, be adequately appreciated, if at this time of day, after twenty years of settlement, Port Molyneux—the port of one of the finest natural avenues of the country—can present, as its coast line landmarks, little more than the Government flagstaff, and—let it be added—the Alexandria Hotel, for it was really an object of prominence more than the population would seem to justify? There was one hopeful sign of industrial progress. Near Coal Point, there was a stout smoke
