Taniwha in Wellington

Taniwha are fabulous monsters of Maori legend.   Every village and locality has one. Even today, roads are diverted, because they would be crossing a known taniwha site.  A lot of them look like dragons, and a few are known to be eccentric.

Such as the taniwha in Wellington Harbour -- a taniwha that collects propellers

And how do we know it?  Witness today's press release:

The mystery of what is happening to Cook Strait ferry propellers has deepened with a broken propeller discovered on our replacement ferry.

KiwiRail still doesn't know why a propeller fell off the Aratere ferry on November 5.

And the plot deepens with the discovery that one of the blades has fallen off one of the propellers of the replacement ferry, Stena Alegra. 

The state-owned company says the crew of the Stena Alegra noticed a mechanical issue when the ferry was at sea on Thursday.

"When the ferry returned to port in Wellington divers discovered part of one of the ships four propeller blades on one propeller was missing," the company said.

Two of Stena Alegra's sailings on Friday have been cancelled as a safety precaution but the company says passengers and crew were not at risk on Thursday as the ferry has two propellers.

But that propeller-collecting taniwha is still lurking out there in the Heads...

Another tiger story from Mrs. Reid

On the 11^th December we left Saugor Roads, without losing any of our men by tigers, although boats from the ship had landed on the island almost every day. 

The next morning we discharged our pilot, just three months from the day we received one on board on our entrance to the port. 

A few days after we sailed we became somewhat settled, and soon formed ourselves at ease with each other; conversation, without stiffness or reserve, was kept up at table among our agreeable party, nor did it fail during the whole voyage. Capt. R[oss] was a well-informed agreeable man, and had seen much service in India, particularly under Lord Cornwallis, whom he served as military secretary; he was now returning to join his family in England. 

Dr. L[aird] was a particular friend of Capt R[oss], and a most worthy man, much esteemed by many he had left behind; he also had seen much service with the army under General Sir Eyre Coote, whom he attended until his death. His memory was sadly impaired, particularly respecting any recent event; but of any thing concerning the army, or occurrences of former times, he could give the most minute account. 

This loss of memory was attributed to the consequences of a tiger hunt, the history of which I shall give you. Mr. R[oss], himself, and a party of gentlemen, had agreed to spend a little time with a friend at a place called Couti, not far from Kedgeree, where they enjoyed the manly sport of bear hunting, and were generally successful. 

One morning they went out as usual, and left an elderly gentleman and a young man as his companion; these two had strolled from the bungalow on foot, enjoying the cool morning air. Nothing interrupted their pleasure until they passed an opening in the jungle, when their ears were assailed with a most hideous growl; upon turning to the spot whence the sound issued, they were horror-struck at seeing a large royal tiger worrying at the throat of a poor cow he had just seized.

They instantly started back towards the house, thinking every moment they should be attacked by the tiger. The young man very soon out-ran the elder, who called lustily for him to stand and look athe tiger in the face, assuring him it would not then attack them; at length the young man slacked his pace, and let the elder come up with him, who seizing his coat, cried, “now we are equal, you young dog, run for your life.” 

They reached the house in safety, which without doubt they owed to the prey which had already occupied the animal’s attention. Measures were now concerted for his destruction; accordingly next day a large party sallied forth, well mounted upon elephants who were trained for such an encounter. They were very soon at the place where the tiger lay concealed: they partly surrounded him but nothing could induce him to leave the cover. They fired many shots in all directions, and were in hopes they had killed him. 

The elephant upon which Dr. L[aird] was mounted being more bold than the rest, advanced to the jungle, when, just as he entered, the tiger sprang upon his neck; the doctor instantly fired his piece, and the furious animal quitted his hold, but the elephant was so frightened that he turned and set off at a rate which made it impossible for Dr. L[aird] to dismount until he came to a river, where in consequence of his apprehension that the elephant would ford, he dropped off behind, and hurt himself considerably with the fall; this however was not the worst, he now had to find his way back to the house, which was upwards of five miles distant, in a scorching sun: he was immediately seized with a jungle fever, from the effects of which his memory never recovered. 

The tiger was killed, but the party lost several gentlemen by fever before they returned to Calcutta, in consequence of which, neither Dr. L[aird] or Mr. B— ever attended another hunting party while they remained in India.

No wonder!  It seems that tiger hunts were even more dangerous than described in the Boys' Own books.  But bear hunting? In India? Surely it's a typo for boar hunting?  The only bear outside of the Himalayas is the insect-eating sloth bear, a most unaggressive customer. Or maybe Mrs. R. was such a rapt listener that the tellers couldn't resist embroidering the tale? Even if the speaker had a job to remember what he had had for breakfast...

Departure from Calcutta

Eleanor Reid takes a trip down the Hooghly to Saugor Roads, where the ship is waiting to be convoyed, and gets acquainted with their passengers.  

I now became uneasy about the ship, as my husband had been absent with her four days, and it was reported a ship had run aground on a sand near Fultah; in the interval, however, I was gratified by receiving letters from my beloved parents in England, conveying good news of them and all branches of the family.

The next day my husband returned to Calcutta, saying the ship had reached Saugor, and only waited to be dispatched; in consequence of which all was bustle and preparation for our embarkation.

As Messrs. Hudson, Bacon, and Co. had done all the repairs the ship required, they provided a comfortable vessel to take us down to Saugor. Two of Mrs. H[udson]’s sons were going home under our care, and their father intended accompanying them down the river. 

On the 6^th of December 1800, we left Calcutta; we had omitted seeing the Black Hole so often described by travellers; we often, however, passed the monument erected in memory of the wretched sufferers at the west side of the writer’s buildings, which forms one side of Tank Square. In the centre of the square is a fine piece of water, which supplies the inhabitants at all seasons of the year.

As the afternoon was very fine, we had an opportunity of again beholding the villas as we passed down Garden Reach, but they did not interest us at first. This is the case with almost every thing we are accustomed to have, either in view, or in possession.

The next day we reached Futtah, where we landed, and had an excellent dinner at the tavern, the only house of entertainment between Calcutta and Saugor. In the evening we again embarked in the accommodation boat, and next day reached the Friendship at Saugor, without accident.

On the 9^th, Mr. Charles Law came on board to dispatch the ship; he solicited this appointment in consequence of his sister in law going home with us to England. This business being finished, we were joined by all the passengers in the evening, viz., Miss E. L, Capt. R[oss], Capt. D—, Dr. L[aird], Mr. C— D—, and the children, three boys and five girls, with their native servants, ayahs, &c.

The Hon. Company’s ship Nonsuch was appointed to convoy the fleet to a certain distance; the ships ready to sail with us were the Minerva, Capt. Saltkeld; the Varana, Capt. Faner, and the Highland Chief, Capt. Greenaway; also the Santa Cruz, Capt. John Collie, who was to keep company until we were off the Island of Ceylon.

A world without GPS

As we all know, GPS depends on information beamed down from satellites.  Because of the wonder of GPS -- or so the radio has just informed me -- planes are capable of flying into Queenstown, Middle Earth, in the middle of the night, with satellite-beamed information  safely zigzagging them around the peaks that abound in the Southern Alps.

There are all sorts of stories about cars that blindly followed navsat (satnav) instructions and finished up falling into lakes, but it's no joking matter.  What would happen if a solar flare, a stray comet, or a series of collisions with space junk destroyed those crucial satellites?

It certainly wouldn't be possible to look up your route to wherever on google.

Or get a sneaky image of a street scene, somewhere.

Planes would fly the wrong way and maybe even fall out of the sky. What is the chance that MH370 was a victim of GPS failure?

We wouldn't know that hurricanes and tornadoes are on the way.  Or be able to plan for rain, or drought.

Illegal poachers and thieves who are currently caught because of GPS technology would scoot away free.

GPS-controlled tractors and harvesters wouldn't work any more, so food production would plummet.

Undiscovered ore-deposits and archaeological sites would remain undiscovered.

Your mobile phone would not work.  Nor would eftpos machines.

And flying into Queenstown at night would be a game of Russian roulette.

Read more about it in a book by Lewis Dartnell, with the intriguing title, The Knowledge: How to Rebuild our World from Scratch

From the collapse of satellite-based technology, I assume...

Mrs Reid discusses religion

On the first of December [1800] the ship left town, to complete her lading at Saugor. 

When the live stock was going off, the head Sircar, who was of the Bramin or priest cast, begged to have one of the kids, which was entirely black. I asked his reason for selecting that; he said intended sacrificing it to his God, and that at the same time he would pray that we might have a fortunate voyage. I told him he should have no kid from me for any such idolatrous purpose, and enquired what sort of a god or gods he worshipped; he replied that his god was my god also. I told him I did not believe in his deity Brahma; he said that might be, but that I believe in the great Supreme of all, who inhabited the heavens, and created the sun, moon, and stars, with this world; who had also created Brahma, vishnu, and Sheevah, inferior gods, to rule on earth, and superintend the affairs of mankind. 

I asked which of his gods required poor human creatures to sacrifice themselves in the Ganges to sharks, which I understood was their practice every year at a certain time. He said it was very true that it was so, and happy were the souls that were so taken from the body; that the god Varoona, who presided over the sea and all waters, immediately transported their spirits to the Supreme. 

I also asked him which of his gods required a woman to burn herself upon the funeral pile of her husband? he answered that such sacrifices were not enjoined by any law in their sacred books; that it was a voluntary act, that the soul of such a woman would be for ever happy; but that if she was pregnant at the time of her husband’s death, she was not allowed to burn herself. He confessed, however, that the wife, who did not sacrifice herself, would be degraded and despised by her family. 

I told him that I trusted the time was not far distant when his gods would cease to find worshippers, and yield to the pure influence of Christianity. He informed me that their sacred books, which were in the care of the heads of his caste (the Bramins), were written by the Supreme himself; that in them it is declared that no earthly king, or people, can be admitted proselytes to the religion o the Hindoos, nor be incorporated with them; but he acknowledged, however, that it is foretold in their sacred records, that at one period of time all mankind will profess one religion, and worship the Supreme God in the same manner; and that then the spirits of all will be taken from the earth, which will be consumed and vanish like smoke. He confessed that this universal religion could not be that of the Hindoos, but some other.

I often conversed with this man, who told me many strange things respecting their customs. He said his caste never ate any thing that had animal life; that their food consisted entirely of rice, vegetables, fruits, and milk, a kind of pastry, and sweetmeats made of honey, ghee, &c.; some of the inferior castes are allowed to east fish, and some kinds of flesh made into curries with vegetables, but those are much more respected who abstain from such food. 

They respect all religions which enjoin the worship of the Supreme Being, and are commanded to give food and water to their greatest enemies. How very different is the mild deportment of these people to that of the Mahometans, who propagated the tenets of the Koran by the force of arms. The latter are the most numerous class here, and hate the poor Hindoos as much as they do the Christians; they are only kept in subjection by the great power of the English; they however respect our laws, which are administered to all impartially. But I have made a long digression. 

To return to the kid which I refused to give the Sircar; he had still so great a desire to have it, that he said if I would give it to him he would beg my acceptance of a Bengal cow and calf, to take to the ship, provided I would faithfully promise not to suffer either to be killed. I gave way to his entreaties, and gave him the favorite kid; the next morning a fine young cow and her calf were standing in the compound for me.

Auckland NZ paper reviews The Sea & Civilisation

There are not many reviews published in New Zealand newspapers and magazines, these days, so it is a real scoop to be reviewed at all, let alone get a good one.

The Sea And Civilisation by Lincoln Paine (Atlantic Books $75)

At 744 pages, this feels as big as the sea and it needs to be, because the story it tells is a magnificent one. Paine's sweeping account of how maritime travel has shaped our world -- spreading goods, gods, technology and culture -- begins with the extraordinary exploits of the people of the Pacific. then it moves from ancient Egypt, Mesopotamia and the Indus Valley to the great navigators of Phoenicia, Arabia and China before reaching the age of Europe. The sea's influence may seem to have shrunk, being seen mainly as a playground, but thanks to the unromantic container, it remains the engine of the global economy.

Reviewed by either Jim Eagles or Mark Fryer in Canvas, the insert mini-magazine of The New Zealand Herald, Saturday 3 May.

Eleanor Reid and the sad story of the Kent

Interestingly, Mrs Reid met two gentlemen, one the purser, Robert Morris, who were survivors of the capture of the East Indiaman Kent by the French privateer Confiance, commanded by Robert Surcouf, just the previous month.  The Kent had been lying off the Sand Heads, and was easily surprised, because everyone thought the small craft that was approaching them was a pilot boat. It was common knowledge that the corsair crews were fired up with liquor, and therefore mad for plunder, but the East Indiaman should not have been so easily taken. As the young man related, it was probably because everyone was disheartened by the death of Captain Rivington. The atrocities reported were not typical of Robert Surcouf, who had the reputation of a gentleman.

The report above is from the Gentleman's Magazine, March 1801

Towards the end of November, we dined with Mr. C[harles]— L[aw]— at Howrah, where I was introduced to his sister Miss L—, who was to proceed with us to England. I found her very agreeable in her manners. At table was a young gentleman who had been in the Kent Indiaman at the time of her capture. In reply to some questions about that unfortunate affair, he surprised us by saying that if the sailors and soldiers on board had only been armed with knives and forks they might have cut the enemy, who boarded them, to pieces; but from his account it appeared that all was confusion after the death of the captain. 

The prisoners had come to Calcutta on board an Arab ship, where they were put by the enemy. We expected that Mr. R[obert] M[orris], the purser of the Kent, would come home with us, as my husband offered him a free passage; but his affairs prevented his leaving India so soon.  When the gentlemen joined us after dinner, I was surprised to observe many spots of blood upon the stockings of the young man; I soon understood that the musquitos had been feasting upon his legs under the table during dinner, and indeed I did not escape their merciless stings myself. He had not taken the precaution of having a bag made for each leg, which is often necessary. New comers are generally much annoyed with these plagues, and instances have been known of the loss of limbs, and even of life, from the effect of the bites of these little insects.

We had to cross the river to Calcutta, and were obliged to retire earlier than usual. It would have been fortunate, however, if we had been half an hour later, for just as the boat put off from the shore we heard a great noise fast approaching us; this was what is called the bore Our boatmen appeared in great consternation; my husband desired them to land us again immediately, but they disregarded his orders, and pulled with all their might into the middle of the stream: this, as we afterwards understood, was the best way to avoid the danger. The night was very dark, which increased the awful aspect of the immense white foaming waves, as it advanced with vast rapidity, rolling over the sand, causing the boat, although one of large dimensions, to tumble and toss about in the most violent manner, and nearly filling her with water; this, however, appeared to us of little consequence, we were truly thankful for the preservation of our lives. These bores do much damage on the river, causing the loss of many lives and much property.

Do authors need agents?

Dana Beth Weinberg on Digital Book World has produced fascinating conclusions and data from a recent author survey 

The appraisals of the value of agents was indeed quite high, with over 80% of published authors agreeing that agents are worth their commissions. However, a minority of published authors in the sample, only 9.3% currently had an agent.

Authors who had only traditionally published were the most likely to have an agent currently, 16.1%, and authors who had only indie-published were the least likely, 1.6%. Hybrid authors, who are both traditionally published and self-published, were more likely than the other types of published authors to have had agents in the past but to have parted ways, 20.6%.

Given the rosy estimates of what agents can do for authors, one might expect the proportion of published authors seeking literary agents to be quite high. However, just over a third of unagented published authors, 37.7%, are actively seeking agents: 35.2% indie-only, 45.5% traditional-only, and 37.13% hybrid.

In total, 39% of the published authors in the sample have discarded the prevailing wisdom and opted out of the agent search, never having submitted their work to literary agents and not seeking one at the time. Of these, about two thirds, 67.5%, were indie-only authors.

New sea adventures from McBooks

Killing Ground by Douglas Reeman, is now available as a trade paperback!

1942. In the Western Ocean, at the height of battle and from the bridge of his much-loved destroyer HMS Gladiator, Lieutenant-Commander David Howard's orders were chillingly clear. There could be no mercy. To the men who fought to protect the vital, threatened Merchant Navy convoys in the Western Approaches, the Battle of the Atlantic was full-scale war. It was a relentless, savage war against an ever-present enemy and a violent sea-in an arena known only to its embittered survivors as the killing ground. HMS Gladiator was part of that war. An ordinary, hard-worked destroyer and her company of men fighting for survival in a war with no rules. This is a fictionalized account of the Battle of the Atlantic, which spanned nearly six years and was the longest military campaign of WWII. Keeping Britain supplied for the war required imports of more than a million tons of goods per week, most of which came from North America. The Allies lost 175 warships, 3,500 merchant ships, and more than 72,000 merchant and naval seamen in this battle. Seen through both British and German eyes the title deals with the extreme perils of war at sea and is an excellent study in leadership, with characters that ring true.

Caribbee, Book 14 of The Kydd Sea Adventures, is now available as a hardcover!

Thomas Kydd returns to the Caribbean not as an ordinary sailor but as a hero of Trafalgar and post-captain of the 32-gun frigate L'Aurore.Dining, dancing, and running down prizes provide a welcome respite from the never­ending war with France. But more and more of the British merchantmen are disappearing--thus inter­upting Britain's vital sugar trade. Who is responsible and where are the missing ships? Is Napolean taking revenge for Trafalgar?  Kydd lands at the scene of a murder, holding a smoking gun. What will the consequences be when Kydd's past becomes known? Also available as an ebook from all of the usual ebook retailers. Both books are available wherever books are sold--including directly from www.mcbooks.com or may call our distributor, Independent Publishers Group, at (800) 888-4741. Domestic shipping is $5.50 for the first book, add $.50 for each additional book.

A $22 eBestseller?

From Digital Book World

Even publishers not named Hachette have cause to celebrate David Baldacci’s The Target rocketing to No. 1 on the ebook best-seller list this week: It’s selling now for $12.74, an order of magnitude more expensive than at least one recent No. 1.

The trend on ebook pricing has been downward for the two years Digital Book World has taken its temperature every week with an average price for the ebook best-seller list. In the fall of 2012, it nearly hit $12.00; the low was just this past winter at just above $5.00. These days, it hovers between $6.00 and $8.00.

For the first time in a long time (fall of 2013), however, the average price of a top-25 best-selling ebook has edged above $8.00. It is now $8.03, up from $7.71 last week.

Baldacci’s No. 1 best-seller is part of the story. The other part is mostly a title from Harvard University Press: Capital in the Twenty-First Century by Thomas Piketty. The ebook is priced at $21.99 and is the most expensive title to ever hit this list. If it were instead replaced by a book priced at $1.99, the average price of a best-seller this week would be $7.22. Every title in the top-25 has an impact.