When sailing day came there was a great crowd on the wharf to see us off, and from photographs taken we must have looked very fine, but we had then to discover that coal counted as well as looks. The directors were going down the coast with me, and naturally desired to make a smart passage to Wellington. We had filled up with New Zealand coal; they said it was Westport and first-class steam coal. Be that as it may, our people proved unable to get steam properly, and there was considerable disappointment. I could not question the logic of proven facts, however, and had to make the best I could of a severe disappointment. It occurred to me about that time that the engine-room should occupy a greater share of my thoughts than it had hitherto done--the ship’s company generally were at their very best and my chiefs were delighted. It seems that they were curious to see how a complete stranger would take his ship into Wellington, and Murray Aynsley told me afterwards that it pleased them. Wellington is a perfectly easy place to enter, but its looks are against it in daylight, for the reefs and rocks at the entrance look nasty until the channel is open. As a precautionary measure I eased to half speed just at the entrance, but I had so learned the place from the chart that it did not give me the least uneasiness. When the head of the harbour was reached a pilot came off to take the ship alongside the wharf, and it must be confessed that for handling large ships under their own steam these men in all the New Zealand ports showed a wonderful aptitude. This Wellington pilot in particular was an extraordinarily good man.