The Voyages of HMS Clio : Part II The South Pacific

The Voyages of HMS Clio

Part II - The South Pacific

HMS Clio, Commander Henry Douglas Wilkin DSO, arrived in Sydney on 9 May 1904 at the end of an eventful maiden voyage. She had to spend some time in the dockyard so it was just over a month after her arrival – on 15 June – that she set sail for a cruise through the South Sea Islands. The purpose of her voyage was to survey the various reefs in and around the Cook Islands and other groups and then to blast gaps in the coral reefs to make safe entrances for loading and discharging cargo.

And the term “a cruise through the South Sea Island” appears to have been as good as it sounds: Clio turned out to be quite a party girl! On the other hand, her luck with the weather was a repeat of her experience in the Bay of Biscay.

The first leg of her journey was to Noumea (18 June) in New Caledonia and then on to Suva, in Fiji where she arrived on 28 June. While at Suva, a survey of the harbour was made, noting changes in the position of buoys and beacons. Clio left Fiji on 5 July and two days later arrived at Nukualofa, Tonga. Here she coaled and her commander and other officers paid a courtesy call on King George Tupou II, who returned the compliment and visited the ship.

Four days after arriving in Tonga, Clio set sail again for Niue, an isolated piece of land that Captain Cook had called Savage Island. Here attempts were made at blasting the reefs to improve landing at the island.

On 19 July, Clio had reached the Cook Islands and moored at the main island, Rarotonga, where they were royally entertained – or, according to the island correspondent of Otago Daily Times: “Since [Clio’s] arrival Rarotonga had indulged in a quite unusual round of gaiety.”

There had been an important island wedding, the bride being the adopted daughter of Queen Makea, and a feast was given to the white people as part of the festivities, including Clio’s commander and several other officers. On the following evening a ball was given by the Resident Commissioner, Lieutenant-Colonel Walter Gudgeon, and the Government officials to the officers of the Clio. It was declared “a great success, being attended by the leading European residents and Queen Makea and other Arikis of the island.”

The Otago Daily Times’s correspondent went on to report: “There have also been numerous very enjoyable tennis and cricket matches got up for their entertainment, while they in turn have given lunches and dinners on board.”

Lt-Col Gudgeon was to be a passenger on Clio during the next leg of her voyage, to the island of Mangaia, where he was to attend sittings of the Land Titles Court and the High Court. However, Clio’s main object of visiting Mangaia was to blow a channel through the reef near the village of Oneroa on the west side of the island. Poor weather with a high sea running made it impossible to complete the task and so, in order to avoid delay, Commander Wilkin decided to continue his voyage to Tahiti, promising to return in about a fortnight, when the weather hopefully would have improved.

In mid August, after about a fortnight at Papieté on Tahiti – where doubtless more entertainment had been provided by the French authorities – Clio headed back to the Cook Islands, but not before she had surveyed the position of buoys and beacons in the harbour at Papieté, which had recently been altered.

On the way back to Rarotonga, she called at the island of Atiu, where “she stopped for some hours and blew out a boat passage in the reef. She was unable to perform this same operation at Mangaia, owing to the weather being too bad, but she will try again at that place before finally leaving this group for New Zealand.”

Of course, once back in Rarotonga it was party time: “an entertainment was given to Captain Wilkin and his officers on the evening of the 19th at the Courthouse, inaugurated by a few local friends, and on Saturday evening, the 20th the ship’s company were invited ashore to spend the evening and have a good time, which they thoroughly did.”

Later, the Rarotonga correspondent of the Otago Daily Times reported: “Their stay of four days was referred to by one and all as having been of the very pleasantest. All hands contributed to make it so, and they were entertained at tennis, cricket, drives about the island, as well as evenings at various houses, and a ball in the courthouse, got up hurriedly, but none the less enjoyable for that.”

The poor weather continued to prevent Clio from blasting the reefs at Mangaia and at the island of Aitutaki and so she sailed south, through the Kermedec Islands to New Zealand.

Clio arrived in Auckland on 1 September. Over the next two months, she stayed in New Zealand waters, visiting, among other places, Tauranga, Gisborne, Napier and Wellington.

However, within 48 hours of her arrival in New Zealand, a few of her crew caused quite a stir.

On 3 September, under the headings: “Lively Scene in Queen street – Three bluejackets arrested” the New Zealand Herald reported: “Bluejackets from HMs Clio were in action in Queen-street last evening, and created a very lively scene for about half-an-hour. The disturbance arose through Constable Cummings remonstrating with one of the men-o’-warsmen, who was a bit boisterous, and resented the constable’s interference. A scuffle ensued, and the bluejacket was incited by about 15 of his comrades, as well as by some civilians. Two or three constables came to the aid of Constable Cummings, but for a while the bluejackets were in command of the situation. Constable Cummings received a hard blow on the right eye, causing a painful injury, and Constable Lipscombe, who was set upon by three or four of the sailors, had to protect himself by vigorous defensive tactics. Finally three bluejackets and a civilian were arrested and taken without more ado to the police cells. Dr Sharman attended to Constable Cumming’s wound.”

The next day at the Police Court, the three sailors were charged with various offences including using obscene language and assaulting and resisting the police. Naturally, they pleaded not guilty.

The men were reported to be “David Thomas Moffatt, George Kerracker and C W Lunn”, but the reporter did not get the names precisely right.

David Thomas Moffat, 24, from Liverpool, enlisted as a boy in 1896 while George McKerracher, 30, from Pembroke Dock, and Charles Wilfrid Lunn, 26, from Derby, both enlisted in 1901. Moffat was an able seaman, while the other two were stokers.

New Zealand Herald reported on the case:

“Constable Cummings who appears in the witness-box with a bandage over his right eye, said that the disturbance commence through three or four sailors creating a disturbance opposite His Majesty’s Arcade. Ultimately one of the sailors fell upon the footpath and two of his companions thereupon started pulling him about. Witness told them to go home, and the men started to go, but before they had gone very far the same man fell again. Witness proceeded to arrest him, and then Moffatt interfered with the result that the prisoner got away. Witness then turned his attention to Moffatt, who used obscene language and struck witness on the nose and kicked him of the shins. When Constable Lipscombe came up 10 minutes later he managed to secure his man.

“Moffatt, who declined to give evidence on oath, said that when the constable interfered with him he was only doing his best to get drunken companion down to the ship.

“After an officer of HMs Clio had stated that the accused would be punished on board by stoppage of leave and wages, the magistrate said it was a great pity that the sailors had misconducted themselves to such an extent, but, taking all the circumstances into consideration, and the fact that accused would be punished on board, he would only order him to come up for sentence when called upon.

“Kerracker and Lunn were similarly dealt with. It was shown that they went to Moffatt’s assistance when he was arrested. Kerracker assaulted Constable Cummings and Constable Lipscombe then too him in charge. Kerracker thereupon assaulted Lipscombe. Lunn was clearing off down the street when Constable Curtin barred the way and threw him. In the struggle which ensued Lunn kicked the constable on the back and the legs, thereby laming him.”

The three men’s service records are interesting in that there is no indication of any significant punishment for McKerracher or Lunn. There is a note of “cells 10 days” against the year 1904 on Moffat’s record, but that could have been for some other offence – it wasn’t the first time he had been in trouble. However, the annual character review of each man for that year was VG [very good] and both McKerracher and Lunn were promoted to stoker 1st class before the end of their service on Clio.

More decorum was neccessary during the rest of Clio’s stay in Auckland. First, there was the arrival two days after Clio of the French cruiser Protet commanded by Commandant Paul Adigard who was Chef de la Division navale de l'Océan Pacifique, and was addressed as Commodore.

But Commodore Adigard was not a happy bunny.

At the time, there was a law – a provision in the Defence Act of New Zealand – which required the permission of the Governor to be obtained before the crews of foreign warships could land in the colony. Usually, when a Consular representative in Auckland expected a warship belonging to his country, he would obtain the necessary landing permit beforehand, but this hadn’t happened this time, so when the Auckland harbourmaster told the Commodore, he became almost apoplectic.

He declared that no such absurd law existed in any other part of the world, and that so long as it was in force no French warship would visit New Zealand and he would cable to his Government on the matter.

Of course, there was no difficulty in obtaining the Governor’s permit to land. According to the Auckland Star: “It came promptly in the most courteous form, the Premier telegraphing M Boeufve, French Consul in Auckland, extending on behalf of His Excellency and himself a cordial welcome to Commodore Adigard and his officers and crew. This telegram was presented to the Commodore by the Consul yesterday morning, but in the meantime the position had become somewhat strained, and the Commodore did not seem disposed to recede from the stand he had taken.”

The Consul maintained a diplomatic silence about the whole matter. An Auckland Star reporter noted: “He said that he preferred to say nothing on the matter at present, and merely promised a statement when it was cleared up – perhaps within a week or so. It was understood that the matter was being referred to the authorities.”

It was only a few months before – in May – that Robert Boeufve had become Consul and it would appear that Protet was the first French warship to visit New Zealand since he had been appointed, so he may not have known the procedure.

But it was the most junior actor in the saga – the harbourmaster – who was the one who got it in the neck and was told that in future he should limit himself to pointing out the warship’s anchorage.

Clio’s Commander Wilkin, as captain of one of the two Royal Navy vessels in port – the other was Commander Cunningham Robert de Clare Foot of HMS Psyche, had to work hard to smooth the Gallic temperament. And this, of course, meant entertaining.

There was a private dinner on board Protet one evening which the two officers attended, another on board Clio, which Commander Wilkin hosted, and several dinners and receptions at the homes of prominent residents.

Other members of the crew were also involved in event on land in Auckland. There was a triangular shooting match between teams representing HMS Clio, the Auckland Engineers, and the No 3 Native Rifles at the Mount Eden Rifle Range one afternoon. The eight-man team from Clio got the highest aggregate – 401 points.

On another evening, a sailor from Clio called “Mr Fred Moore” took on Mourzouk, an Algerian professional wrestler in Jack Carkeek’s troupe, in a contest at His Majesty’s Theatre. Mourzouk won in two and a half minutes.

On 8 October, Clio left Auckland and sailed along the East Coast for Wellington. First stop was Tauranga were several parties of crew were landed to play a football match against a local side (Clio won 3-0) and a rifle match against Tauranga Mounted Rifles (Clio lost by six points). The Clio resumed her voyage the next day via Gisborne towards Wellington.

As she was in the Cook Straits between North and South Islands, Clio had another encounter with the forces of Nature and – as on her maiden voyage – sustained some damage.

The gales which swept over New Zealand that month were some of the strongest and destructive experienced for some time. More than one ship either ran aground or was severely damage. Lieutenant Arthur Payne on HMS Tauranga was swept overboard and drowned. 

Clio did not escape unharmed. She encountered the full force of the tempest in the Cook Straits. She was unable to enter the bay at Wellington, so stood way towards Cape Campbell. A mountainous sea was running and waves constantly broke over the ship, washing the stern boat out of the davits. This was carried away, and the sails, which were set to steady the vessel, were blown to ribbons.

While Clio was in Wellington news came that a body dressed in naval seaman’s clothes had been fished out of Auckland Harbour. The man was about 13½ stone, and 5ft 9in in height, with close-cropped dark brown hair. This description tallied with one given to the police by Commander Wilkin of a presumed deserter, Patrick Higgins, who had last been seen alive on the Railway Wharf on the evening of 7 October, the day before Clio had sailed. However, with Clio now so far away, the body could not be formally identified, and the inquest jury returned a verdict that it was an unknown man. The condition of the body indicated it had been in the water from two to three weeks, which also meant the cause of death could not be determined.

After ten days in Wellington, Clio made her way back to Auckland via Napier, Gisborne and Tauranga. Once in Auckland, the entertainment started again. The Governor, Lord Plunket, gave an official dinner in honour of the King’s Birthday on 9 November, and Commander Wilkin attended together Commander Willoughby Pusey Dawson, captain of the surveying vessel HMS Penguin, then in harbour.

A few days later there was a shooting match at the Mount Eden rifle range between teams representing Clio and Penguin, which Clio won.

Originally it was planned that Clio should spend Christmas in Sydney, but when she sailed from Auckland on 18 November, she had to head north to Fiji, where she stayed at the disposal of the new Governor, Everard Ferdinand im Thurn, because of political problems at Tonga. Besides being Governor of Fiji, a position he had only taken up on 11 October, Mr im Thurn had also been appointed High Commissioner for the Western Pacific, which included Tonga.

It had come to his notice that the finances of Tonga were in a mess and it was thought that two native ministers had been cooking the books. The High Commissioner sailed on Clio to Tonga to see for himself and after he arrived there on 8 December, he went to see King George Topou. He ordered his private secretary, Merton King, and the paymaster of Clio, Arnold H Gulliver, to audit the accounts in the presence of the Premier and the Treasurer who were being kept under guard drawn from Clio’s detachment of eight marines.

The auditors started on the Saturday after their arrival and finish on the following Tuesday. With the audit concluded, it was shown there were large deficits in the accounts. They found a hundred dollars in the safe but, according to the books, there should have been 5,000 dollars. There were also debts of 3,000 dollars to traders and others. The Premier, Siosateki Veikune and the Treasurer – both Tongan chiefs – were arrested, and deported to Fiji “for your good and the good of Tonga”, according to the High Commissioner. They were placed on board the Government dispatch boat SS Ranadi, under charge of a warrant officer and four seamen of the Clio and taken to Fiji.

Meanwhile, Clio stayed in Tonga while the High Commissioner tried to force King George into accepting a new Premier and Treasurer of his choosing. Eventually the agreed, after being given an ultimatum that he too would be deported and on 25 January 1905, Clio returned to Suva with the High Commissioner. A few days later, she left for Sydney arriving on 7 February. During the first 24 hours of the trip full-speed trials were made, and she achieved an average rate of between 14 and 14½ knots.

After just over a month Clio sailed from Sydney to join the fleet at Hobart in Tasmania where she was to spend another month before receiving orders to join the China Squadron in Hong Kong.

She sailed from Hobart on 13 April and after a few days in Sydney, departed the South Seas for China.