NEW-ZEALAND-L Archives

From: "Olwyn Whitehouse" <>
Subject: [nz] "Glenmark" shipboard diary Sept. to Dec. 1865 for sale on ebay- who wrote it??
Date: Sun, 10 Jan 2010 11:51:43 -0600

There is a shipboard diary for sale on ebay. The seller in Salem, Oregon got
it at a local sale.
http://cgi.ebay.com/Diary-Lost-Ship-Glenmark-London-to-New-Zealand-1865_W0QQ
itemZ380194714964QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item58855ef554


Who wrote it?? There is a name on the inside cover. See image.’
http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~nzbound/diaries.htm



Passenger list

http://www.immigrantships.net/v2/1800v2/glenmark18651218.html



1865

Voyage of the "GLENMARK" from London to Lyttelton, Canterbury, New Zealand.

The diary measures approximately 5 x 7 inches, 1 1/8 '' thick. This is from
the first 30 pages of approximately 170 pages of writing.

One of the preliminaries to a voyage to the Australian Colonies, is the
necessity of spending some time in the port of departure, and though vessels
are advertised to sail punctually at a certain date there is often I may say
invariably considerable delay and in my own case nearly a fortnight gave me
rather too much time on my hands in the Metropolis, which I was far from
enjoying as many people manage to enjoy themselves therein, in fact I don’t
think I ever spent a more miserable time rambling about the streets of
London with no other object than to kill time, is, I think to an active mind
one of the worst possible punishments to inflict, and to have one’s nights
turned into days by the pestilence that walketh in darkness, and the
consequent idleness of the delay, is quite enough to make one feel
depressed, and out of sorts, walking day after day to the ship or shipping
office and finding each day some fresh delay, by no means increase my stock
in patience or good temper, and I heartily wished to be on the bounding
billows and enjoy for a short time “A Life on the Ocean Wave” but at length
the welcome news was imparted to the intending passengers that the ship
would sail on the following day, and in consequence many spent a night on
board in the docks.



I for one, as I dreaded exposing myself to the Black Marauders who had made
my nights in London miserable and sleepless, and on the morning of Sept 7th
after the customary formalities of the government officers visiting the ship
had been gone though the usual pulling and hauling commenced, and the good
ship began to move gently through the forest of masts, which filled the
docks and at length she glided out into the noble river which make London
the Metropolis of the world, and as the ship passed the last dock gates the
crew came on board and they gave a deafening shout which was immediately
responded to by the crowd congregated on the pier head to witness her
departure and after another good hurrah from the motley crew, the order was
given to steam a head and away went the tug boat puffing and blowing like
some – breath spent demon of the deep, and then commenced that beautiful
panorama which presents itself to the eye on a sail down the Thames, on one
side we successively left behind the ship building yards and docks of
Blackwall, the Victoria docks and numerous other places scarcely worth
mentioning and on the other hand Greenwich Hospital in the distance the Old
Dreadnought who saluted us as we passed. Charlton and Woolwich with its
Arsenal and dockyard the great factory of England’s wooden walls and
ordnance while going down the river we were met by the Queen’s Steam Yacht a
beautiful vessel, and at length we passed Gravesend and the Old fort at
Tilbury and cause to anchor at the Powder Buoys off the Irish Marshes for
the night, it was a lovely day and that evening as the glorious orb of day
dipped beneath the waves of the little sea before us he poured forth a flood
of the richest orange light gilding every wave with its resplendent hue and
immediately the Silver shining moon arose in all her beauty rendering all
around as distinct as day with crowds of shipping near us shadowed in the
glassy waters made a scene of beauty which will be remembered by many on the
ship as a “Joy for Ever” at eight bells the boatswain’s pipe called the
hands to anchor watch and after spending an hour or two on deck to enjoy the
cool breezes of Evening most of us went below to their bunks and silence
soon reigned on board only to be broken by the bell tolling forth the hour
of the night, in the morning we were astir betimes soon enough to see the
sun rise from his watery bed which very much resembled the sunset of the
previous evening, it is impossible to see the sun rise anywhere as it is
seen at sea when he gradually yet swiftly rises from the faintest trace of a
crescent to full circle when he looks much larger then at any other time,
and soon begins to grow less as he ascends higher in the heavens.



Early in the morning the powder boats came alongside and we took in several
tons of Gunpowder as cargo. Enough in fact to send ship, cargo, passengers
and all else out of existence in less time than it took to stow it away on
board, and after riding at anchor all night, at 4 A.M. on the morning of the
9th we were once more under way and with the aid of a steam tug were soon on
our way to the broad blue sea, keeping the coast of Kent in sight and noting
the rapid disappearance of many pretty places on the shore Ramsgate, Margate
and several other places whose names I could not learn, we at length reached
the downs and anchored off of Deal which we could see very plainly, with
Walmer Castle once the residence of England’s greatest warrior, there to
await a favorable wind, and sad to relate occurred one of those melancholy
occurrences, which will happen in every day life, but which among a small
community as are necessarily on board ship, is felt much more than on land,
viz:- The Angel of death visited the ship. One of the crew who came on board
in a delicate state of health fell down in the maintop, it is presumed in a
fit, and died a few minutes after being lowered to the deck, a rude coffin
was soon constructed by the Carpenter, while all on board looked on in moody
silence, the occurrence having thrown a temporary gloom over nearly every
one in the ship, but soon the Carpenter’s melancholy task was finished and
the corpse of the Poor Sailor was deposited in the rude box thus hastily put
together, and hid from the gaze of all save the All Seeing Eye of the
Omnipotent deity. After being wrapped in dear old England’s Union Jack. The
Blue Peter hoisted at the fore called a boat from Deal and his mortal
remains were conveyed ashore to find a grave in his own native land, and I
trust that, in the words of Dibdin “Although his body’s under hatches, His
soul is gone aloft.” That evening the whole sky wore a threatening aspect
and night came on dark, cloudy and overcast and during the night the wind
increased and blew stiffly through in an unfavorable quarter.



On Sunday 10th the breeze still continued and was blowing quite a gale from
the Southwest so that a whole fleet of Shipping ran for shelter into the
downs, but towards night it lulled and the dark clouds which had been
hanging around all day gradually dispersed and we had a beautiful view of
the Kentish Coast, particularly the bold promontory known as the North
Foreland, crowned by its celebrated lighthouse. The wind dropped down to a
light breeze during the night and about 4 A.M. on Monday morning all the
sleepers on board were aroused by what sailors call a shanty a rather
musical melody sung in the nasal twang of a Yankee, while all joined in each
of the two lines necessary to form the chorus, at which part they heave with
a will and the windlass slowly turns around, I could not mange to catch the
words of the song throughout but the refrain was quite distinct after
listening for some time I heard “ I wish I was General Jackson’s son, A
hurrah for Santa Anna, For he’s the boy to make them run, all on the plains
of Mexico.” After some little time the Anchor rose from the water, and we
soon began to move through the green sea. While similar melodious airsborne
along on the breeze from the surrounding vessels told us that others
intended to make a move as well as ourselves. The anchor being weighed we
were soon going before a light breeze towards the coast of France, which we
just sighted and tacking again we were soon in sight of old England again
nearly opposite Dover, which we could just see lying at the foot of the
White Cliffs of Kent. We could plainly see Dover Castle and the far famed
Shakespeare’s Cliff. I can fully realize from a Seaward view of it the
beautiful description given in King Lear “How fearful, and dizzy ‘tis to
cast ones eyes so low! The crows and choughs that wing the mid-way air,
(Show?) scarce so gross as (beetles); Half way down hangs one that gathers
Samphire – dreadful trade; Methinks he seems no bigger than his head, the
murmuring surge, That on unnumbered idle pebbles chafes Cannot be heard, so
high:-”as it must indeed be fearful to look over the edge of such a beetling
cliff on the wide waste of waters beneath, but as the good ship is walking
the waters “like a thing of life” we must bid adieu to the ‘White Cliffs of
Britain” for a time, as we are alternately tacking off and on to the French
and English Coasts, as the wind is in an unfavorable quarter and, of course
the ship cannot sail nearer than within about six points of it.



About midday we sighted Dungeness lighthouse bearing N.W.bW where our pilot
ought to have left us but as the weather was not very pleasant in fact too
rough for the pilot boat to put off for him he had to remain on board, on
the 11th and 12th we were completely becalmed and a dense fog surrounded us
so that we could not see a hundred yards from the ship, and the ringing of
the bells and the blowing of the fog horns which by the bye resemble the
bleating of a calf more than anything else I can liken it to in fact I asked
my next bedfellow if it was not the cow and whether she had been suffering
from a sever catarrh) were the only sounds to disturb the solemn silence of
the deep.



On the 13th it was no better but towards evening the sun poured forth a
flood of light and dispelled the dull miserable fog away a little, and a
very light breeze sprung up in a fair quarter but so light as to be scarcely
perceptible so that we could not make any progress, we are all very anxious
to reach Plymouth where we ought to have been some days ago, but these
little delays have to be patiently endured at sea where all depends upon the
wind and weather.



On the 14th a nice fresh breeze sprung up and carried us along in splendid
style and we soon passed the isle of Wright, Portland and several other
places on the coast and at length came in sight of the South Devon Coast a
rocky one too, where we sighted several romantic looking spots, and some
very pretty fishing villages lying close to the waters edge or perched
snugly in some cleft of the rocks sheltered by the highlands and downs,
while farther in land we could see smiling farms and orchards which
certainly looked charming from the sea, while here and there were
lighthouses stuck upon some outlying rocks or perched on some bold headland.
The Start light I noticed in particular as being a handsome and lofty
structure, all these sights were soon left behind as a fifteen knot breeze
was kicking us along endways and we soon came in sight of the Ram head and
Plymouth Breakwater a structure built from the bottom of the sea to keep the
wild waves of the vast Atlantic from intruding within the gentler waters of
the Sound here we took another pilot on board to guide us into safe
Anchorage taking the Pilot on board was one of the most exciting incidents
of the sail from London the cutter having dropped alongside and inquired
whether a pilot was wanted and being told there was, the cutter was left
astern in a moment the ship was going so fast but changing her tack she ran
athwart on bows and in the twinkling of an eye almost a boat was lowered
containing three men and was soon alongside and having put the pilot on
board was soon left behind a mere speck on the water we watched her for some
time till she was again picked up by the cutter and soon following in our
wake. As soon as the pilot was on board, we were surrounded by a fleet of
little boats from the town, the owners of which were each anxious to get as
many passengers as they could, and as much as they could, by them during the
time the ship lay there. I must give them credit for being for very
reasonable in their charges for we were lying nearly three miles from the
town yet they only charged sixpence each for taking us from the ship to the
town very soon after the Anchor was dropped nearly all the passengers were
on their way to Plymouth. The harbor is certainly one of the finest I have
ever seen and its smooth waters were literally alive with small boats, and I
quite enjoyed the sail across it, on the right hand is a large fortress
facing the end of the breakwater and sweeping the whole of the passage on
that side while the opposite side is similarly defended, in the foreground
facing the harbor is the citadel and another large fort on an island all
bristling with guns, on the left is the river Tamar a noble looking river
affording good anchorage for several men of war lying miles up the country.
All around the mountain scenery of Devon and Cornwall is certainly beautiful
and altogether was a scene I shall never forget! The Earl of Mount
Edgecumbes Park on the Cornish side is one of the most beautifully romantic
places I have ever seen, on going into Plymouth I was very much deceived in
the town as from a seaward view of it I had imagined it to be composed of
fishermen’s huts and fortifications, instead of which I found a large town
plenty of good buildings and trying as much as provincial towns generally
do, to assume London manners and appearances one of the most prominent
things was ”Lothen Dundreary at the Theatre Royal” loads of fish and the
odors of some not very fresh regaled the olfactory nerves, while a
babble-like confusion of tongues grated harshly on the ear as the vendors
should with stoutorian lungs the prices of their fish something like a
Billîngate in miniature. After spending a day in Plymouth we had to hasten
on board the “Glenmark” where the agent mustered all hams and the “Lord
Yarborough” took the tow rope on board and soon another shanty was commenced
and the rattling of the links of the cable told that something was in the
wind and hastening up to see and hear all I could the first thing in fact
almost the only thing could be heard was “once I had a wife and she was such
a teazer” Haul haul away! haul away Oh! I did all I could but never could I
please her, Haul haul away! haul away Oh!” Which was soon finished “The
Anchors Weighed” And fished and the steamer moved gently through the water
which soon took us out into the channel and left us and we were away once
more on the bounding billows, bidding a long farewell to the shores of Old
England perhaps never more to return or view her cliffs again. “The white
cliffs of England how proudly they stand The Bulwarks that circle on dear
native land! These fortresses nature has knitted there To shelter the isle
of the brave and the fair, How nobly the storm and the tempest they have,
Mistook by the wind unharmed by the wave The pride of the world for ever
shall be The white cliffs of England The pearls of the sea.” As all the
sails are set we are now on the way to the broad Atlantic and shall soon
have to strain our eyes in vain for a view of Dear Old England. “But may
dishonor blight our fame, And clench our household fires; When we or ours
forget thy name, Green Island of our Sires” After beating about for an hour
or two we came within a short distance of the Eddystone Lighthouse and being
high water the rock on which the structure is built was entirely submerged
beneath the waves and the tree like form of the lighthouse alone stood above
the level of the surrounding waters to make the the otherwise dangerous
rocks conspicuous, before a light was placed on these rocks many a good
vessel had been lost on them in sight of home and not a soul saved. The
angry waves of the Western Ocean had beat against them now and frequently
dash completely over the lantern though fixed at a height of seventy four
feet above high water mark, it is one of the most celebrated lighthouses in
the world, and is the third one that has been built on these rocks and when
we take into consideration the heavy swell from the Atlantic and the Bay Of
Biscay we can appreciate the skill and indomitable courage required in the
construction of such a edifice, the first building of the kind erected on
the Eddystone was built by an architect named Winstanley and built of wood
and iron, and after shedding it’s welcome light over the rough waters of the
channel for five years the building with it’s inmates including the
Architect and his men who were executing some repairs, were swept away by a
violent storm in not a vestige of them or the lighthouse ever seen
afterwards, in the year 1706 another attempt was made to crown these rocks
with a lighthouse by a John Rudyerd an ingenious silk mercer of London, who
with the assistance of two shipwrights from Woolwich erected a building of
wood and iron similar to the former one in three years and it was lighted up
in the winter of 1709 and after braving the storms and tempests of
forty-five years, it was destroyed by fire and nothing but a piece of chain
and some pieces of iron imbedded in the rock were all that remained of
lighthouse number two, however no time was lost in commencing another, and
Smeaton the Engineer who’s name has been famous from his connection with
this work resolved to construct an edifice entirely of stone, dovetailed
together in all it’s parts in such a manner as to be almost as solid as the
rock on which it was built, it was begun in 1756 and completed in three
years and since that time it has stood proudly and defiantly before the
waves to all appearance as firm and durable as the rock itself; That evening
we beheld the sun sinking over the boundless Atlantic for the first time,
and as soon as he dipped beneath waves the light of the Eddystone poured
it’s refulgent beams over the wild waters of the English Channel, to guide
both the homeward and outward bound on their several ways- That night as
darkness settled down over the ocean the last view of the Old Country was
presented to our straining eyes and involuntarily called forth Byron’s
Memorable Words “Adieu! Adieu! My native shore Fades over the waters blue
The night winds sigh the breakers roar, And shrieks the wild sea knew; You
sun the sets upon the sea, We’ll follow in his flight. Farewell a while to
him and thee My native land good night.” I noticed among the female portion
of the passengers many a moist eye, and considering that many perhaps have
left behind dear and cherished friends I could not be surprised, that some
gloomy thoughts should arise in their minds, but these were soon to be
dispelled by the jolly carouse usual on board ship known as “Saturday Night
at Sea” when all the crew and nearly all the passengers assemble on the
top-gallant forecastle and to the lively strains of a flute and concertina
trip merrily through two or three dances, several songs were sung and one of
the crew gave us a genuine Sailor’s hornpipe which was followed by a
Scotchtreel in Burlesque, and the entertainment being over we went below to
sup and turn into our respective bunks, to dream of bags of gold in the New
Land, and of the Loved and dear ones at home.



On Sunday 17th a nice breeze sprung up and carried us along at a tolerably
good rate and we were completely out of sight of land but past several ships
but did not signal to any of them, it was a beautiful day though not
characterized by that distinction which marks the Sabbath ashore, and there
was no service held on board as is usual on board all good ships, but most
people on board turned out to promenade rigged up in their best On Monday
the same breeze continued and we were passed by a large steamer going South,
during the day the crew were engaged in housing the anchors and getting the
cable below so as to have everything snug for sea. About mid-day a large
specimen of the Sunfish or basking shark showed himself and after swimming
lazily alongside for a short time left us, and in the evening a shoal of
porpoises came playing about the bow of the ship sporting about like so many
dogs, but as night came on they dropped of astern.



On Tuesday we were quite becalmed and in the afternoon a slight headwind
arose forbidding all onward progress in fact “There we lay all that day In
the bay of Biscay Oh!” But we were consoled by one of the Sailors “A job’s
comforts by the bye” with the pleasing information that there were more
ships lost in that part of the Western ocean then any other in consequence
of it sometimes blowing a terrific gale, which suddenly subsides into a dead
calm for half an hour and then raging in all it’s fury again but no such
good luck came to our share and towards evening a shoal of porpoises showed
themselves ahead coming towards our bows, and as they are said always to go
against the wind this was haled as a good sign just at the edge of night it
became a little foggy and as it grew dark the sea began to assume a
beautiful luminous appearance round the bows of the ship and the crest of
every wave being tipped with a pale blue phosphoresent light as bright as
the clearest moonlight and every and orion* a fountain of liquid fire
appeared to burst up from the depths of the sea as some funny denizen of the
deep made an eddy in the water, just before turning in for the night as I
was on deck lending a hand I saw lying down under the bulwarks a coil of
what appeared to be the brightest silver cord but on stooping to examine it
I found it had just been hauled in and was simply wet with salt water on
which the phosphorescent light was plain giving to it a beautiful appearance
“There’s beauty in the deep:- The wave is bluer than the sky: And though the
light shines bright on high More softly do the sea gems glow: That sparkle
in the depths below: The rainbows tints are only made When on the waters
they are laid. And sun and moon most sweetly shine Upon the oceans level
brine, There’s beauty in the deep.





Another ebay item “Glenmark” N.Z. Must be Glenmark Station North Canterbury,
S.I.

http://cgi.ebay.com/c1920-SHEEP-NEW-ZEALAND-DIPPING-BATH-MARKET-GLENMARK_W0Q
QitemZ170424678613QQcmdZViewItemQQimsxZ20091228?IMSfp=TL091228174002r6542\

This thread:

• [nz] "Glenmark" shipboard diary Sept. to Dec. 1865 for sale on ebay- who wrote it?? by "Olwyn Whitehouse" <>