Richard Brydges Beechey's 1863 painting of "HMS Orpheus"' disastrous attempt to cross the Manukau Bar on 7 February 1863 is the background picture to a page dedicated to all those who've lost their lives on the Manukau Harbour down the years.
The picture has been kindly provided by the NZ Maritime Museum from the P.A. Edmiston Trust Collection - note the copyright tag above.
"HMS Orpheus" was a 1700 tonne screw-driven Jason-class Royal Navy corvette, and was serving as the flagship of the Australian squadron when she was sent across the Tasman to check on two British naval ships in NZ waters, and deliver naval supplies and troop reinforcements for the New Zealand land wars taking place at the time.
Sadly, she never made it past the Bar, hitting the middle bank at 1.30pm. By 9pm, the mast went under. Of her 259-strong complement, 189 perished - New Zealand's worst-ever maritime tragedy.
A brief summary of the disaster can be read here, and something a wee bit more substantial here, but the most comprehensive record of the tragedy ever compiled was the Thayer Fairburn-penned "The Orpheus Disaster" in 1987.
The book was reissued in 2013, and can be acquired from Boat Books - see the Useful Links page for more information.
In the next column is an 1899 poem written by Alfred Lord Tennyson, which you'll often hear at mariner's funerals.
May all who have perished on the Manukau Harbour over the years rest in peace.
PS Some may wonder why there isn't more information on "HMS Orpheus" on this site. Nothing is gained by reinventing the wheel when others have done the donkey work, hence the option to link to the ample info on those sites.
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Crossing The Bar
Sunset and evening star
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea.
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.
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