Historic HB: The life of Trusty the lighter

The lighter Trusty, in 1911 at Northe's slipway. Credit: Collection of Hawke's Bay Museums Trust, Ruawharo Tā-ū-rangi, 20787

Samuel Carnell, Napier photographer, mayor, Member of Parliament – and as a member of the Napier Harbour Board – was a staunch advocate of the (present) breakwater harbour, over the inner harbour (Ahuriri).

In 1905, frustrated at attempts to expand the present breakwater harbour he said:
"Although defeated this time, I have other cards up my sleeve which I intend to play with the object of circumventing the lighter brigade."

The "lighter brigade" referred to was the owners of vessels called 'lighters' – effectively barges which loaded and unloaded ships parked in the roadstead (a place outside of a harbour where ships lie at anchor). Lighters were either pulled by tugs, motorised, or had sails.

Ahuriri's port was too shallow (even before the 1931 Hawke's Bay earthquake) to allow large overseas ships to enter. Lighters would transport cargo to ships in the roadstead and unload any inbound cargo.

I was one of those "lighters" – the 59 ton (53,500kg) sail boat Trusty. I am actually English – and brought out in parts and assembled in 1864 for the Otago Steamship Company on the Otago foreshore. Most lighters were wooden then, but being of first-class construction, I was named Trusty, and I entered their service in 1865.

The Harbour Steam Company would take ownership of me, also in Otago (I can't remember when), and the owner, John Jones, passed away in 1871, and it was a sad day when I was put up for sale.

I, Trusty, was well pleased to be publicised as the "Harbour Steam Company's favourite iron lighter", and I was sold to a Christchurch company in July 1872. My first task would be to sail for Lyttelton on "the first fair wind" with a cargo of jarrah timber and ironwork. On occasion they let me out to sail to Wellington and back to my old home, Port Chalmers.

Escaping from my moorings or accidents would be a feature of my life (not deliberate, mind you). The first occasion was in 1877, when I was back in Port Chalmers. I collided into my friend, Ethel, and carried away her mainmast, before I grounded on a sandbank further down the harbour.

Describing me as a ketch, I was sold and moved to the North Island to Port Ahuriri, and in January 1886, when I had been overhauled, I entered service as a lighter for merchants Kinross and Co and would work the Union Company's steamers. It would be the end of my tripping around to other ports.

A deckhouse was added to me, and my cabin put in the hold in 1889 to create more space to carry more cargo. I was living up to my name – Trusty - but they wanted more from me. Potatoes, frozen meat, wool or even Mr Robert Holt's boiler – you name it, I got the job done.

Life as a lighter wasn't easy, and the tug Ahuriri, my mainstay, I think resented pulling me out to the roadstead to load and offload the ships. In rough weather, the swells made it difficult for me to avoid crashing into the ships, and there was the safety of the watersiders doing the unloading and loading. I once got caught in a strong tide in December 1888, and oops – smashed the cattle wharf and the towing boat.

In October 1890, I suffered the indignity of running aground on the bank opposite Dalgety's wool store (they called it the 'pipi bank'). Full of cement, I stayed there for a number of days, until I was refloated.

October 1890 wasn't the best month for me – I lost four casks of beer overboard on a Saturday evening when my rail gave way. This would have caused a near riot, save one of them being recovered (I had never seen such an effort to hastily recover overboard cargo).

My bumps and bruises continued – and I was hit by the Manapouri steamer in 1891, and I had to be put in the slip to fix the leak.

For the next 20 years I managed to escape too much trouble while faithfully to and fro-ing cargo.

But after such a long run, in 1911 I sunk in the Ahuriri harbour. My stern bumped into SS Kotuku, knocking a hole below the water line while I was being shifted during a flood tide.

Two divers patched up my side while five pumps were used to extract the water in my hold. I was then raised with a pump going to keep me afloat. And as pictured, I was taken to the Northe's slip at Westshore – where I got repaired.

Worse was to come in July 1912. Sabotage. My rope moorings. Cut. I drifted out of the harbour and ended up high and dry on Petane Beach. I was relaunched, and none the worse for my adventure. My cargo, of all things – was 50 tons of manure!

Two years later, in March 1914, upon attempting to enter the harbour entrance, I was driven ashore to Westshore beach. The tug Ahuriri attempted to rescue me but could not get close. I assume she had tried hard enough.

That night, I turned broadside, and was forced by the tide high on the beach.

Attempts were made to refloat me, but this time, it seemed, my luck would run out. My old wound had reopened and I leaked badly.

My owner's insurance company eventually gave up on me.

So there they left me. Probably the best lighter they had seen. Left. Abandoned.

I did serve one final purpose, I was used as a changing shed for bathers at Westshore beach.

After 1941, I noticed no more of my fellow lighters leaving Port Ahuriri for the roadstead cargo. The Breakwater harbour could now take large overseas vessels. And they were redundant, and as they say – that's progress.

I stayed west of the Westshore Life Saving club until the early 1950s, when what was left of me was finally removed.

Michael Fowler (mfhistory@gmail.com) is a contract researcher and commercial business writer of Hawke's Bay history. Follow him on facebook.com/michaelfowlerhistory