Chapter 32, Following the Equator

After a wait of three hours we got good rooms in the Mahinapua, a wee little bridal-parlor of a boat—only 205 tons burthen; clean and comfortable; good service; good beds; good table, and no crowding. The seas danced her about like a duck, but she was safe and capable.
Next morning early she went through the French Pass—a narrow gateway of rock, between bold headlands—so narrow, in fact, that it seemed no wider than a street. The current tore through there like a mill-race, and the boat darted through like a telegram. The passage was made in half a minute; then we were in a wide place where noble vast eddies swept grandly round and round in shoal water, and I wondered what they would do with the little boat. They did as they pleased with her. They picked her up and flung her around like nothing and landed her gently on the solid, smooth bottom of sand—so gently, indeed, that we barely felt her touch it, barely felt her quiver when she came to a standstill. The water was as clear as glass, the sand on the bottom was vividly distinct, and the fishes seemed to be swimming about in nothing. Fishing lines were brought out, but before we could bait the hooks the boat was off and away again.

Chapter 33, Following the Equator
The travelers arrived in Nelson and spent most of the day there.

We sailed in the afternoon late, spent a few hours at New Plymouth, then sailed again and reached Auckland the next day, November 20th, and remained in that fine city several days.

November 20 Wednesday – The Mahinapua sailed through the Taranaki Bight on the west coast of North Island. Passengers were unable to see Mt. Egmont due to heavy mist. The ship arrived in Auckland around 6 p.m. and the Clemens party took rooms at the Star Hotel on Albert St., Auckland’s “leading hotel.” Sam met an Englishman, “a fine large Briton a little frosted with age,” who had fought in the West during the American Civil War and was now working at the hotel as a porter. (MTDBD)