Akaroa settlement, some three miles distant, on the other side of the harbour, leaked, and he could only give us a small dinghy, with short oars, in which he thought we might make the passage safely,—the alternative being several miles' walk round the upper part of the harbour, we decided to make the venture.
The Bishop and Archdeacon managed to find room in the stern sheets, whilst I rowed with Horomona, but we were much too heavy a crew for such a little craft, and we soon found ourselves in difficulty, for a nasty squall came up, raising a rough head sea, and we had hard work to reach our haven, having to bail out the water with my straw hat. At the landingplace the resident clergyman was anxiously watching our progress, fully expecting to see our boat swamped. We were with him several days, including a Sunday, the Bishop visiting settlers in the various bays of the harbour, some of which were reached by boat,—then, making a tour of the bays on the western side of the Peninsula, which are separated from each other by very steep, forest-clad spurs, we eventually returned to Lyttelton in a whaleboat.
Not long afterwards I started with the Bishop on his Southern journey, for which we had three horses, one as a pack horse to carry clothes and other necessaries. The Bishop's plan was to visit all the principal settlers en route, holding services, and, as it turned out, with many baptisms, and an occasional marriage. He was often welcomed with the remark: "Well, my Lord, you are the first clergyman we have seen here." It fell to my lot to lead responses, read lessons, raise the hymn tune, and look after the horses. I shall not give you a diary of our journey, which lasted nine weeks, but limit myself to some incidents by the way which may interest you.
