# Rambles on the Golden Coast of New Zealand/Chapter 8

WESTPORT, BULLER, AND MOUNT ROCHFORT.
CHAPTER VIII.
N the early days of the West Coast, Westport was approachable only by sea. True, a number of diggers managed to make their way overland, mostly along the beach, from Greymouth, but the usual route was by steamer, either from north or south, to the Buller River. Nowadays, the traveller can reach Westport by mail coach from Nelson, as well as by similar means from the southern towns on the coast viâ Reefton. In this chapter I will ask my readers to accompany me on a trip by the old means of conveyance, by steamer, from Greymouth to Westport.
Sixty miles or thereabout of a journey north of the Grey, the voyager will reach the Buller River, Kawatiri in native nomenclature. He will notice, if the weather is clear, that past the Grey River the character of the country rapidly changes; the outline becomes more bold, and the Paparoha Mountains, running almost parallel with the coastline, rise in rugged contour, showing high serrated peaks, with the rounded forms of granitic mountains in the foreground. As he coasts along, he may, by dint of good eyesight and clear binocular, catch sight of the little settlement of Brighton on the Fox River, and of Charleston Bay. As seen from the seaward, a patch of white dwellings on a clear upland terrace with forest-clad ranges in the rear and lofty snow-capped mountains in the distance. If perchance there is an old goldfield wayfarer aboard he may hear a yarn, oft told and losing nothing in variety by its repetition, how men in the early days of the coast, when the first tidings of gold at the Buller were rumoured, travelled overland from Canterbury to the Grey, in itself a perilous feat, and thence, nothing daunted, made their way along the coast, crossing the dread Razorback, forcing their path, by mountain, stream, and trackless forest, some dying by the way, others turning back appalled, all enduring privations which men, in these days of easy locomotion, little reck of, and he may listen to the tale with half wondering disbelief. It is true though that the West Coast exploration was fraught with much peril to life and limb, much long enduring privation and hardship.
Mr Reuben Waite, to whom I referred in a previous chapter as one of the pioneers of this district, thus relates an incident of the early difficulties to be contended with:—
“On one trip, indeed, the ‘Gipsy’ was away thirteen weeks. We entered every harbour in Blind Bay, Port Hardy three times, and West Wanganui twice (driven by stress of weather). Off Rocky Point a sou’-wester met us, and nearing the Mohikinui we were becalmed two days. These were trying times, when the vessel, full of provisions, was in sight of two or three hundred diggers almost starving, and yet we could not reach them. ​At length a light breeze brought us off the Buller, and we could plainly hear their shouts of ‘Welcome,’ and presently, with dingy and kedge, we worked her over the bar, amidst the clamour and cheers of the hungry diggers, who were watching us. While we were still in the roll of the seas, canoes came alongside, off went the hatches, and out went the flour and other provisions. When we got ashore we found the baker already making dampers in his oven, for when he saw the vessel close he lit his fire for baking. For a time there had been nothing but potatoes (eked out with eels, nikau, pipis, etc.). There was a lot of damaged flour, which had turned yellow and musty, and was intended for the pigs, but it all went for bread. Such was the state of affairs at the Buller in October and November 1862.” The work of gold finding, as we have already noticed, went bravely on. In the rivers and ranges, north of the Buller and at the Pahikis southward, new ground was opened up; the then busy townships of Charleston, Brighton, and Addison’s sprang into being; along the slopes of the Mount Rochfort ranges hardy miners clustered; and at the Mohikinui, thirty miles north, a bustling little township arose, and over as far north as the Wanganui, Ohimahana, and Karamea streams, the ubiquitous never-daunted digger found means of transporting his swag and tucker. Fortunes were made and spent, and the fame of the Buller goldfield spread afar. At the mouth of the Buller River a busy sea-port town arose, which has a history all its own, a tale of moving incidents and strange vicissitudes.
The voyager, after passing the Three Steeple Rocks and Cape Foulwind with its lighthouse perched on precipitous cliff, will find his craft steadily bearing towards the Buller. He will here scarcely fail, even if suffering the depressing influence of mal de mer, to notice the wide expanse of coastal scenery margining what is known as the Buller roadstead. The coast, which from the point of departure at the Grey trends to the northward for about fifty miles, then turns to the north-west for the next forty, until Rocky Point, the most westerly promontory of this part of the island, is reached. From the Buller mouth to this point is a continuous series of embayed beaches and picturesque headlands, the latter jutting out into the sea, backed up by high forest-covered hills, and behind these again, clad, for many months in the year, with dazzling snow, will be discerned the great mountain chain forming the backbone of the island, and whence the rivers of the West Coast take their rise. Crossing the Buller bar, the voyager will find not a narrow tortuous channel, but a wide and straight run in, up which vessels sail without danger, and where, already, a coal fleet comes and goes, carrying Mount Rochfort black diamonds to the markets of the world. Preparations have been made, a quarter of a million or more of pounds sterling spent in wharves, staiths, and railways, the coal is in the hills in millions of tons, the accumulation of ages, a store which a legion of cyclops could scarce diminish, and its production, as a marketable commodity, has now been fairly established. For this consummation dwellers on the banks of the Buller have long waited, and are, at last, realising their most sanguine expectations. It is, however, with past experiences rather than present expectations we are now dealing.
​The steamer moored to the wharf, and our traveller ashore, he will, if curiosity inclines him, find no trouble in picking up a narrator of old times. He will hear, possibly with surprise, that the channel up which he has just sailed marks the site of early Westport; that where the broad yellow sands spread out at low tide, bush and scrub and verdant sward once grew, and cottages nestled in bright gardens; that there in consecrated ground the dead lay in peace, and lovers wandered ’mid leafy shadows. He will be shown where streets and wharfs once stood, and busy commerce had habitation, and will hear how, suddenly,
“A wind woke from sleep
And, or ever that evening ended, a great wave
Like a wave that is born of an earthquake grew, And smote them.”
And how, not only once but many times, the trouble came upon them, and they were sore beleaguered: the pitiless breakers in front of them, the flooded river sapping away its crumbling banks on one side, the marshy, uninhabitable, scarce explored bush on all others. He will hear of habitations being carried bodily out to sea, of whole streets demolished with the swoop of one turbulent tide, of a long continuing tussle with adverse elements, and will wonder if ’tis possible, under any circumstances, for a British born community to own itself beaten. Westport has at least survived its troubles, and many of the earliest residents, who endured all this toil and turmoil, still cling stedfastly to the spot where they so long wrestled with misfortune.
Running out from the upper portion of the town is the Westport and Ngakawau railway, constructed expressly to open up the coal traffic. This line traverses a country whence much wealth has been wrested. About midway on the line, the Westport Coal Company’s mine, and others, have been successfully opened, from which large quantities of coal are now being shipped. Towering above all adjacent elevations stand the Mount Rochfort ranges, the most striking feature in the scenery of the district. The railway line traverses its base, and as the train rolls along the flat and somewhat swampy country in the direction of Waimangaroa, the traveller will mark that the lower slopes of the range are blurred and blotched with traces of digging work, and there will be pointed out to him, if curiously inclined, the sites of Caledonian, Giles, Rochfort, Deadman’s, and other terraces, whereon, scarce twelve years ago, tunnelling and sluicing claims were in full swing, and in mining parlance good gold was getting. The Terrace men were for a time a power in themselves; strong in numbers, sturdy in union, they carried the sway in local politics. Many a tale could be told of candidates’ adventures and misadventures among them. And so too in all other matters of local import, what they found to do they did with all their might. To-day the scene is changed: a few stray waifs cling to the old spot and fossick out a living, lured ever by the hope that some day a good lead will be again struck and bygone glories and attendant prosperity again revived, and the hope is not all visionary. Mining ​experts assert that a good lead extends all along the West Coast from Collingwood to Jackson’s Bay, and that it has been merely lost, not worked out, at Mount Rochfort. Speeding along, the train soon reaches Waimangaroa, a budding township of some promise. Here a line diverges to the coal workings, and here is centred a busy community. Again speeding on, the train, still skirting the foot of the ranges, and crossing swamp and stream, intersected country where the expenditure of many thousands was entailed before the permanent way for rails could be formed, the Ngakawau stream is reached. Here again the traveller will be told of coal seams discovered, of a company formed, of much ado being made to get a steamer in and out of the little inlet connecting with the sea, then a clamour for railway communication, and how, when the railway was made up to within a few chains of the coal pit, all works were stopped, a padlocked door prevented ingress or egress into the mine, and the rails have ever since lain rusting. But seeking less for facts unsatisfactory than striking scenery, the traveller will find ample charm in the views along the railway route. Huge mountains, bare heath, breezy upland, widespread plain, swamps suggestive of sport aquatic, ranges timber clad to the very summits, the exuberant foliage of New Zealand brake and fell, glimpses ever and anon of the bright blue sea, pleasant picture spots of cottage life and rural occupation, all combine in charming panorama, and the eye never wearies. And yet this will scarce suffice: his aspirations will soar yet higher, the views of the distant mountain tops will tempt him to scale heavenwards to see what comes within human ken and vision up there, where the huge masses of rock, torn and tossed and splintered in grotesque confusion, as if piled up by the fantastic caprice of genii, seem to mingle with the clouds. Some day when the coast, now almost untrodden ground to tourists, becomes better known, the assent of the Mount Rochfort ranges will form an incident in every traveller’s programme. To-day the feat is rarely attempted save by occasional survey parties, and yet it is comparatively easy of accomplishment. Visitors inspecting the Westport and Koranui Company’s coal inclines on the lower slopes of the Waimangaroa range, will now find the thriving township of Denniston. Before this township was formed, what was there to be seen is best described in the following extract from the narrative of exploration, published in 1861, by Dr Julius Haast, who had, in the previous year, been engaged in topographical and geological exploration of the Western District of Nelson Province, following after Messrs Rochfort and Mackay, who had previously penetrated, and in preliminary measure explored, the country. Copies of Dr Haast’s pamphlet are now scarce, and hence extracts therefrom, in these present reminiscences, will prove of interest. After describing a first attempt to make the ascent, and his native guides becoming disheartened by the cold and snow, for the ascent was made in mid-winter, he says:— “On the 5th July I again ascended the mountain; there was not a cloud to be seen, and the whole country lay like a superb panorama before me. To the north appeared the Rocky Point of Taura-te-Weka, with other headlands, stretching into the sea. Above these rise a mass of mountains, amongst which towered the snow-clad giants of the central chain. Deep ​valleys indicated the courses of the great rivers, amongst which the valley of the Karamea was most conspicuous. Towards the east lay the Lyell Mountains, with their bold unbroken outline, over which appeared the rugged peaks of Mount Owen, and of the mountains at the head of the eastern branch of the Matiri. Beyond the Lyell range, where it sloped towards the Buller, rose Mount Murchison, the three peaks of which, visible from Nelson, are well known. Following the line of the large opening between the Lyell and Brunner ranges, and the eastern mountain chain commencing above the Top-house and running to Mount Franklin, the highest point in the Spencer Mountains is observed, and a series of lower mountains forming regular cones, which plainly tell the history of this great fissure. The valley of the Tutaki, the Matakitaki, and the Maruia were also visible, and above the eastern chain, in the direction of the head of the Rotoroa lake, appeared Tapaianuku, the highest summit of the Kaikoras. Towards the south-east and south the rugged lines of the Brunner range were visible, broken through by the Awerau, the principal tributary of the Inangahua, over the broad valley of which the view reached to the Grey country and the Black Hill. This splendid panorama was further bounded by the Southern Alps, in front of which Kaimata lay conspicuous. More towards the south, across the Buller, I looked down into the valley of Ohika-iti and Ohika-nui, shut in at their heads by the rugged masses of the Paparoha chain, the whole presenting one of the finest and most magnificent views that it is possible to conceive. . . . The Papahaua chain consists of two ranges, one near the sea running north, the other, six miles to the east of it, at the Buller, running north-west, the two afterwards uniting in a common centre. I named the highest peak, upon which I had fixed my station, Mount Rochfort (3572 ft.), after the first European who had ascended it; the highest point in the eastern chain, Mount William (3611 ft.); and their common terminus on the north, Mount Frederick (3500 ft.). Between these two chains lies a platform, from 1300 to 1800 ft. high. The plateau is intersected by an incredible number of small streams, rivulets, and precipices, and is covered with manuka and sub-Alpine scrubs.”
In making the descent, Dr Haast and his companion, Mr Burnett, made diligent search for coal, having previously found some small bits on the banks of a rivulet higher up the mountain, and he thus describes the discovery which led to subsequent exploration of the great Buller coal-field:—“At length my search was rewarded, for having passed up a little waterfall in a deep gully, I saw that the overhanging rocks were compact grits, and although my whole party had passed over the fall I at once returned, and having moved the moss which covered the stratum below these grits, I found to my great joy a large seam of good coal. Of course I stopped my party, who very soon returned to assist me in uncovering the seam, which, on removing the moss and ice that encumbered the fall, proved to be eight feet two inches of pure coal. A further examination of this valley, which I named Coalbrook Dale, proved that this seam was striking and dipping regularly.”
Subsequent explorations of the Buller coal-field made by Mr Dobson and others have revealed seams 20 ft. thick, and the existence of wide spreading coal measures.
​The aspiring tourist, reaching the summit of Mount Rochfort, a feat in mountain climbing which we may hope ere long to find, and often, among the records of the Alpine Club, where it will well compare, if not in difficulties of progress and perils by the way, with adventures among European crags and peaks, at least in story of wide expanse,
’Of antres vast and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks and hills, whose heads touch heaven,”
| Coarse grits, with small beds of fine grained sandstones, | 80 | ft. |
| Conglomerate, in a matrix of white quartzose sand consisting of rounded pebbles of quartz and quartzite, | 30 | „ |
| Ferruginous sandstone (grindstone), | 6 | „ |
| Conglomerate, | 40 | „ |
| Sandstone, arenaceous, whitish green, | 8 | „ |
| Conglomerate, alternating with smaller beds of sandstone, | 200 | „ |
| Very micaceous grits, | 120 | „ |
| Shales, | 15 | „ |
For the next 500 ft., the same attenuating succession of grits and shales continues, as observed in the gullies around Mount Rochfort, but without any apparent indications of coal. The shales, where not too micaceous, are replete with impressions of plants, all specifically the same as those in the Grey coal-fields, of which Voltzia is here the most conspicuous. Below them again for several hundred feet, slaty sandstones occur, succeeded by the grits and shales, amongst which I discovered a coal seam. In descending from Mount Rochfort, and crossing in an easterly direction the mountain plateau, intersected by innumerable streamlets, the rocky walls of which everywhere offer good sections, we again find ourselves, after having passed over all the strata before enumerated, amongst grits and shales. Having examined at least 80 ft. of these sandstones, the following strata, in descending order, are met with:—
| Tabular arenaceous sandstones, occasionally containing concretions of clay sandstone, | 30 | ft. |
| Coal seam, | 8 | „ |
| Shales, with small coal seams, | 20 | „ |
| Grits, sometimes very micaceous, sometimes coloured by carbon, | 70 | „ |
The coal seam strikes regularly from north-north-east to south-south-west, with a dip of ​6 degrees west-north-west. I traced it on both sides of the valley, and followed it also in other directions where transverse valleys have been cut through it. The following is an analysis:—
| | | | | Buller. | | | | Sydney. |
| Carbon, | ... | ... | ... | 74·24 | ... | ... | ... | 74·13 |
| Hydrogen, Nitrogen, Oxygen, | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ | ... | ... | 25·76 | ... | ... | ... | 25·87 |
| | | | | ———— 100·00 | | | | ———— 100·00 |
It may be as well here to add that the analysis of both coals was made upon surface specimens, which had been exposed for probably an indefinite period, both to the action of the atmosphere and to that of water, so that we may expect, on getting into the seam, that the amount of carbon will be found larger. The valley where this coal seam occurs lies 1914 ft. above the level of the sea” (We may add here that subsequent research has not only revealed other seams of coal besides this, the first discovered in the Buller district, but that experiment has corroborated Dr Haast’s opinion that the coal possessed higher carbonic value. Readers are referred to the official records prepared by Dr Hector, the Government Geologist, Messrs Cox, Dobson, and others.)