I90I] GOOD-BYE TO CIVILISATION 85 



it was not until Monday that we arrived at Port Chalmers, 

 owing to delay from a strong head wind. Captain Rich, of 

 the 'Ringarooma' had kindly promised to make arrangements 

 for the funeral of our poor shipmate, and though we only 

 arrived at 4 p.m., an inquest was immediately held, and the 

 body buried with naval honours at 6 p.m. Bonner was a smart 

 young seaman, already popular on board, and his untimely 

 death was much felt ; but in the busy life we were now leading 

 there was little time for sad thought, and the gloom of this 

 unfortunate accident was rapidly dispelled in the activities of 

 the voyage. 



Of all the stores we carried, coal was perhaps the most 

 important, and I had determined to wedge in every ton we 

 could carry, more especially as, through the generosity of Mr. 

 John Mill, of Port Chalmers, such coal as we received there 

 was a free gift. 



Early on the morning of the 24th we managed to increase 

 our already crowded deck cargo by the addition of 45 tons of 

 coal, which with 285 tons already in the bunkers, brought our 

 total up to 330 tons, a quantity which, although it may not 

 sound great to those who know the consumption of modern 

 steamers, sufficed for all our needs for more than two years. 



At 9.30 A.M. we left the wharf after saying farewell to the 

 few friends who had gathered in the port even at this early 

 hour. The ' Ringarooma,' to whose officers and men we were 

 so deeply indebted for assistance in the past, ' manned ship ' 

 and cheered us yet once again, and soon, in company with a 

 tug, we were wending our way down the long, tortuous channel 

 which leads to the sea. 



By noon we were clear of the harbour bar, with a good 

 offing, and with a fresh breeze from the N.E., we loosed our 

 sails, and were soon briskly bowling along towards the south 

 under steam and sail. A hoarse shout and a hoarser whistling 

 from our friendly tug, a final wave from the signal station on 

 the cliff, and we were away. The last view of civilisation, the 

 last sight of fields, and trees, and flowers, had come and gone 

 on Christmas Eve, 1901, and as the night fell, the blue outline 

 of friendly New Zealand was lost to us in the northern twilight. 



