Here you can see the passenger landing service sheds with signal station on the cliff above at Timaru - Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections 1691-114
Looking at our coastline today, it is easy to forget that Timaru did not begin with a breakwater, silos and cranes... and to remember that it began on a shingle beach where every barrel, bale and bundle had to be dragged across the waves from Ship to shore through the surf on small surf boats. Before the harbour was tamed, people risked their lives in these small open boats to connect this place to the rest of the country and the world. Māori from Arowhenua were the first boatmen, followed by Deal boatmen from England, working alongside European settlers like the Rhodes brothers, Captain Henry Cain and Henry Le Cren. Out of danger and determination grew Timaru’s first landing service... at the time it was a fragile lifeline but it helped turn a scattered village into a town.
Read on to uncover how this early surf-beaten service shaped Timaru’s identity, what it cost, and what it still teaches us today....
Before the Ships Came: A Shoreline Already Full of Life
Long before Europeans arrived with surfboats and wool bales, mana whenua, Ngāi Tahu whānui and especially Arowhenua rūnanga, had deep connections with this coastline. Waka were launched from tauranga waka, mahinga kai were gathered, and travel routes traced the beaches and lagoons. Timaru, or Te Tihi-o-Maru, was not empty land waiting to be discovered, but a lived-in, named and storied place.
When European settlers arrived in the 1850s, they added their own layers to the shoreline story. Henry John Le Cren, a merchant from Lyttelton, sent Captain Henry Cain south to set up shop. Together they turned a precarious surf landing into Timaru’s first organised landing service. Even here, their enterprise was never solely European. The very first boatmen at Timaru were Māori from Arowhenua, using whaleboats to ferry cargo and passengers ashore. It wasn't until later, in 1859, did the Deal boatmen arrive from England to take up this dangerous work.
Timaru 1864. This was first buildings on the Turnbull site - two tot he right was Cains orginal landing service
Building a Town Out of Surf and Shingle
From 1852, the Rhodes brothers used surfboats to land wool and supplies at Timaru Bay, a beach of heavy shingle hemmed in by cliffs up to eighteen metres high. Kelp-covered rocks were exposed at low tide but hidden under breaking waves at high water. Every bale of wool, every barrel of food, every new settler’s trunk had to be rowed through this surf.
Le Cren brought in six Deal boatmen, veterans from the English Channel. Sadly, three drowned in an early capsize, a stark reminder of how perilous this work was. Those who survived became part of the fabric of the early port. Māori and Pākehā alike risked their lives for Timaru’s survival, long before the harbour walls of the breakwater tamed the sea.
To speed unloading, surfboats were hauled up skids using a capstan and cable. These larger boats, which replaced ordinary whaleboats, could carry up to ten tonnes. The service was fast, although accidents were common and goods were often lost or spoiled.
The sketch is from the Alexander Turnbull Library harbour sketch is from the Alexander Turnbull Library
Whose Port Was It Anyway? Power, Politics and a Warehouse by the Sea
Reading through old newspapers, it looks like there has always been debate over where the first landing service was located. Some claimed Strathallan Street, others pointed to George Street. I think what mattered more though was the fight over who controlled it.
In November 1864 The Timaru Herald advertised tenders for the erection of a landing service shed at Timaru, one hundred feet long, twenty-five feet wide and about forty feet high, with cob walls. Provincial authorities later directed it should be two storeys, with storage for one thousand bales of wool on the ground floor and bonded stores, offices, engine rooms, the harbour master’s quarters and a pilot’s room above.
By 1866 the Provincial Government had taken control. Merchants resisted bitterly, accusing the government of creating a monopoly. At a fiery meeting in the Crown Hotel, Cain, Watt, Grandi, Sutter and even Le Cren himself joined a committee to oppose compulsory landing. Yet the government pressed ahead, and the Landing Service became the official gateway for Timaru’s trade.
Trade, Figures and Shifting Hands
The volumes handled grew really quickly: 4667 cubic feet landed in 1863, 6000 in 1864, and 14,392 in 1865. In December 1865 Cain and Le Cren were given formal government recognition in their landing operations.
However, control shifted over time. George Gray Russell, with Ritchie and Co., later took over, followed by Russell, Ritchie and Co. in 1868. Eventually, the Loan and Mercantile Company and the National Mortgage and Agency Company operated landing services, until both closed in the early 1880s. The government’s warehouse and bonded store survived as the iconic Landing Service Building, today the last of its kind in Australasia.
Lighting the Way: From Tar Barrels to Beacons
Navigation aids were makeshift at first. The earliest “lighthouse” was a tar barrel set ablaze when a vessel was due. In 1863, a permanent lighthouse with two lamps was erected, though some thought it less effective than the fire-barrel.
In 1878 a fixed lantern was lit atop a twelve-metre wooden tower. Later came kerosene, gas and eventually a flashing electric light. The lighthouse guided ships until 1900, before being moved in 1910 to Māori Park, where it still serves as the rear leading beacon for the harbour.
Fire, Flood and the Relentless Test of Survival
The landing service was both commerce and Timaru’s lifeline. Every immigrant arrival, including the Strathallan in 1859, depended on it. By 1863, Timaru’s population had grown to about 1100, more than doubling with the ship arrivals.
But survival was never easy. Fires tore through Timaru’s timber-built townscape. In March 1862 the Timaru Hotel, run by Sam Williams, was destroyed by an arsonist, Hugh Hawkins, after he was refused liquor. In December 1868, a greater fire broke out in the northern business block. With no water supply and no fire engines, one block was destroyed in two hours, and flames threatened to raze the town within five. Losses were estimated at £70,000, with only £10,000 insured. One company refused to cover risks in Timaru again until brick buildings were erected. Rates were raised by 50 per cent to help rebuild.
Floods and gullies further disrupted town life. Strathallan and George Streets lay in hollows, surrounded by tussock hills. By the late 1860s, bylaws reshaped the landscape. Hills were cut down to reduce gradients, gullies were filled, and the town began its transition to stone and brick. The first asphalt was laid in 1867, in front of Turnbull’s store and the Post Office. The first public lamp went up that year too, although decades passed before regular street lighting returned.
People Behind the Port: Auctioneers, Clerks and Agents
Behind the landing service were the men of commerce. Percy George Scott, Timaru’s first NMA manager, became a well-known auctioneer from 1866. He was praised as efficient and accurate, and his work in stock and property sales laid the foundations of a thriving auctioneering trade. Later managers included Andrew Craig, George J. Hutton and many others who carried Timaru’s stock and station business into the twentieth century.
By 1920 around one thousand farmers traded through the NMA’s Timaru branch. Although the company eventually sold off interests and closed, it had played a huge part in shaping South Canterbury’s economy.
What Do Surfboats and Sheds Have to Do with Who We Are Today?
When I reflect on Timaru’s first landing service, I see more than surfboats and warehouses. I see resilience layered upon resilience. Ngāi Tahu and Arowhenua boatmen working the first surf landings. Settlers risking capsizes, fire and flood to establish trade. Merchants battling government control, yet building the structures that shaped the town.
It makes me ask questions about ourselves today. Are we still that community that adapts and pushes forward, even when circumstances are stacked against us? Do we remember that Māori skill and knowledge were at the very heart of our beginnings? Do we value the courage of ordinary people whose labour and losses made the settlement possible?
Today the second Landing Service Building is all that remains from those early shipping days. The bluestone store is said to be the last of its kind in Australasia. It is a relic of colonial enterprise, and a reminder of human effort, Māori and Pākehā alike, that made this town possible. I think remembering that gives us perspective, and pride, in who we are. We are a community shaped by the surf, tested by adversity and politics, and pushed forward with hard work, perseverance and resilience.
What this story has taught me
The story of Timaru’s first landing service reminds us that our beginnings were never simple or one-sided. They were forged in shared labour and contested space, on a rough beach where waves, rope and oars could tie people together in necessity.
Today the wooden Landing Service Building from those years ago is long gone, and the bluestone building associated to the coastl service still stands a block south. The stone store we see today is the last of its kind in Australasia. It is a relic of colonial enterprise, and a reminder of human effort, Māori and Pākehā alike, that made this town int the small city that it is today.
Looking forward, we face our own challenges now... how to adapt our port and town to climate change, how to honour the stories of mana whenua alongside settler narratives, how to build resilience in uncertain times. Remembering the surfboats and the people who pulled them through the breakers reminds us that we have always been tested, and that our strength has come from persistence, ingenuity and shared work.
I believe the can past tells us who we are, and can invite us to decide who we will become.
Sources: Correspondence between F.E. Stewart, Secretary for Public Works, J. Ollivier, Provincial Auditor and W.C. Beswick regarding the lease and management of the Timaru Landing Service. Aoraki Heritage Collection, accessed 17/09/2025, https://aorakiheritage.recollect.co.nz/nodes/view/473
And following news articles:
Government landing terrace at Timaru, 1860s. Shows buildings by the waterfront. Photographer unidentified. - https://tiaki.natlib.govt.nz/#details=ecatalogue.366331
Timaru's First Landing Service / Timaru Branch Today (25 Nov 1964). Aoraki Heritage Collection, accessed 17/09/2025, https://aorakiheritage.recollect.co.nz/nodes/view/452
Timaruvian, Where Was LeCren's Landing Service Located? (Dec 1955). Aoraki Heritage Collection, accessed 17/09/2025, https://aorakiheritage.recollect.co.nz/nodes/view/6836
Timaru Herald, Timaru compelled to struggle for exsistence (06 Aug 1985). Aoraki Heritage Collection, accessed 17/09/2025, https://aorakiheritage.recollect.co.nz/nodes/view/799
Preservation sought (27 Oct 1984). Aoraki Heritage Collection, accessed 17/09/2025, https://aorakiheritage.recollect.co.nz/nodes/view/676
Preservation sought
27 October 1984 – Timaru Herald
The landing service building on the former Dalgety site, now owned by the Timaru City Council, has been recognised by the New Zealand Historic Places Trust.
The trust has given the building a B classification, which means it merits permanent preservation because of its great historical significance and architectural value.
However, the mayor of Timaru, Mrs H. D. L. McIver, said yesterday that the extent of the building to be preserved would be discussed between the council and the trust.
The council proposes to develop the site and might want to demolish part of the landing building.
Announcing the classification, the director of the trust, Mr John Daniels, of Wellington, said the building had major historical significance to Timaru and the country.
“The landing service operated from the 1860s until 1879 when the harbour came into use and the building shows how the service worked and the original line of the sea front,” he said.
The two-storey stone building is divided by three internal walls. The front, facing the sea, has three arched portals through which landing vessels were drawn up. The internal walls have similar arches so that the boats could be unloaded at different bays.
“The building has been in commercial use for a long time and has been little modified — its historical value is irreplaceable,” Mr Daniels said.
Mrs McIver said the council had been aware that the trust was interested in having the building preserved, but had understood there would be no classification until the council had produced a plan of its intentions for the site.
“We will have to have discussions with the trust to find out how much of the building it envisages being preserved.”
She said a good deal of the building was in a bad state and it was also a very rambling type of building.
“I can see that it could be possible to preserve the facade and maybe one section back and the council is hoping a compromise can be reached.”
Mrs McIver said the council was awaiting a report from consultants on how the site might best be developed.