When we had made fast I went on the jetty, and having had the turning gear put in, was watching the blades of the propeller to ascertain what, if any, damage had been done to them, when an elderly man whom I did not know came fussing up to me asking, “What’s the matter?” I replied, I am afraid rather shortly, that I did not see what business it was of his, on which he informed me that he would soon let me know all about that, and took himself off. I then discovered that he was a Government engineer surveyor, but one of the very old school. There was no great damage done to anything, and we soon made arrangements to repair the damage done on the passage, but I did not consider it a casualty, nor did I think it necessary to report it as such to the customs. But gossip spreads, and the next day I received a little note from the collector of customs asking me to go to Dunedin and see him. I did so, and found in the room my friend of the previous morning. The collector, who was a very nice man, liked and respected by every one, told me he had heard I had had a casualty on the outward passage, and had not reported it. I replied that I did not consider there had been a casualty and therefore no need to report anything, as the damage was slight and to be easily repaired. Upon this the engineer broke out that he considered there had been a casualty and “What did I know about it anyway?” This elicited the reply from me, as I considered under extreme provocation, that “I had a steam certificate and he had not.” This closed the conversation and I was not further molested. How it was finally settled I really forget, but my engineer opponent and I were afterwards very good friends. I write of this incident because I have frequently been put to considerable trouble by Custom House officials who have pressed for unnecessary details, and in fact have told me that if even so small a thing as a piston-spring breaks it should be entered in the official log as a casualty, but this I always stoutly refused to do, claiming in this a reasonable amount of discretion. And again, in colonial ports a ship’s name is nearly as delicate as that of a woman, and as easily damaged. A report of a casualty at the Custom House is good copy for every newspaper reporter that can get hold of it, embellishing what may have happened with every fanciful idea that it can possibly bear. There is yet a graver aspect in which this subject may be viewed--it reduces the discretionary power of the master of the ship, and that appeared to me to be a thing quite worth fighting for.