Whalers Begin to Settle

BEFORE sealing had committed suicide — it wrought its own death in a recklessly huge slaughter of its prey—whaling came to keep it company. Then the wedge of settlement went deeper, although not far within the shore. Some of the sealers stayed when their old occupation was gone and they found in the new a further inducement to become settlers. Even ocean whaling created coastal haunts—yes, and homes—where refitting was done and time spent while awaiting the next convenient foray.’ And his family’ occurs in not a few records of the planting of these abodes meant for regular resort. In great part, this provision against recurring wants ashore accounts the earliest white invasion of Kororareka in the Bay of Islands, afterwards to be known as Russell, and there, before the days of British rule, attracted many at a loose end in life. From all the parts of the whaling world this broad, converging inflow came. For many years the United States had a consult here, in token of this persisting interest.

Shore-whaling, with its ‘stations’ whence look-out was kept and where all the work but the dash for passing whales was done, gave stability to many such settlements. Land in quantity was occasionally bought from native tribes; domestic stock was liberated there. From north to south was a string of these habitations, grouped here and there, as round Hawke’s Bay, in close mutual touch

The names of some are still famous. Not all the whalers were as black as the class has been sometimes painted; many cared deeply for the decency and arts of civilisation. Te Awaiti, in Cook Strait had its adjacent homesteads, trim and well ordered; Johnny Jones, of Waikouaiti, as good a farmer as whaler, did much for Christian missions.