Our course was now bent towards Cape Shanck, lying eight miles to the south. The first part lay over a level open woodland country; low hills then made their appearance, becoming more numerous as we neared our destination. At their commencement we turned off the road to look for a kangaroo; a herd was soon found; but all, after a sharp burst of a few miles, got away from us.
KILLING A KANGAROO.
When both horses and dogs had regained their wind we went to better ground, and came suddenly on a fine herd. A large male, called an Old Man by the colonists, loitering to protect the does under his care, was singled out by the fastest dog; and a splendid run ensued; the country, however, being rather woody, and strewed with fallen timber which was concealed by long grass, only those who risked the pace over it enjoyed the sport. The dogs stuck well to their game, and coming at last to an open piece of ground, the fleetest began to close with the Old Man, who was covering an immense space in each bound. At length the dog reached the kangaroo’s quarters, and burying his teeth in them, made him face about, cutting at his pursuer, who kept out of reach, with his hind feet, and then turning round and endeavouring to escape. But the same liberty being again taken with his haunches he was once more brought to bay. The rest of the pack now came up, and a fine half-bloodhound rushed in and seized the kangaroo* by the throat; whilst the latter, in return, fiercely clutched the dog round the neck; a violent struggle ensued, each trying to choke the other. Although the dog that had first reached the Old Man was biting his quarters, the danger that the game hound would be laid open by a cut from the kangaroo’s hind feet, determined Dr. Barker and myself to watch an opportunity of creeping up behind a tree to assist in the struggle. We accordingly did so, and managed to seize the animal by his monstrous tail, so that by keeping a strain on it he was prevented from lifting his hind leg, as if he had we should have pulled him over.
(*Footnote. Although these animals have a most innocent countenance, the large males are very dangerous when brought to bay. I know an instance of a gentleman, who was endeavouring to assist his dog in killing one of them, having his clothes severed in front and the skin of his body just scratched by a cut from the hind leg. Had this person been any nearer the kangaroo, his bowels would have been torn open. The middle toe projecting and being armed with a strong nail, enable them to inflict dreadful wounds, and frequently to kill dogs. It is seldom, indeed, that they will attack a kangaroo in front; old dogs never do, but have a very clever way of throwing the smaller kind by the stump of the tail when running.)
The dogs, thus protected from injury, were at last victorious; and the kangaroo, a great beast, weighing nearly two hundred pounds, was soon stretched on the ground.
CAPE SHANCK.
Having secured the tail and hind feet we continued our road to Dr. Barker’s station, situated in one of the rich valleys I have spoken of, in an early part of the work, as lying a mile and a half to the North-East of Cape Shanck.
On account of the state of the weather we were obliged to tax this gentleman’s hospitality for two nights, both the early parts of which were passed on Cape Shanck, watching between the clouds for observations. This cape is a narrow projection of calcareous formation, rendered remarkable by a pulpit-shaped rock lying close off it. About a mile to the north is a hill 190 feet high, which has been selected for the site of a lighthouse for showing vessels their position off the entrance of Port Phillip. Being so distant, however, it is of more service for Port Western.
From Dr. Barker I received some curious information respecting the Aborigines. It appears that there is great hostility between the Port Phillip and Gipps’ Land natives, who occasionally visit each other’s territory for the purposes of war. So great is the feeling of enmity between them, that they will frequently take a piece of the flesh of their foes and pass it through the skin of their thighs or arms, where they leave it until it withers.
SOUTH CHANNEL.
Returning to the ship we placed a buoy* on the five-fathom bar at the eastern entrance of the South Channel, the bearings from which are Whale Head South 33 degrees West, and Arthur’s Seat South 79 degrees East; Points Nepean and Lonsdale being a little open. Passing through this channel,** we spent an afternoon within the heads for the purpose of visiting the lighthouse just built on Shortland’s Bluff.*** This I found to be 108 feet high; the lantern, to contain a fixed light, had not been established. The position of this light being so far within the entrance it is only visible between South-West 1/2 West, and South 1/4 West; and a light placed at the extremity of the rocky ledge off Point Nepean would be of infinitely more service in showing vessels the entrance of the port.
(*Footnote. Another buoy at the east extremity of the bank on the north side of the channel, which is very steep to, and one at the west end of the bank on the south side, would render the navigation free from difficulty, as the banks on either side can be readily made out.)
(**Footnote. The directions for entering by this line-of-battle ship channel are as follows. After passing Point Nepean steer for Arthur’s Seat, keeping Point Flinders open south of Lonsdale Point until the last cliffy projection is passed and bears South 1/4 West. Then steer half a point to the left of Arthur’s Seat, shutting in Point Flinders with Point Nepean, and keeping Point Lonsdale a little open of the latter. The buoy at the eastern entrance will now soon be made out, and should be kept in line with Arthur’s Seat. Pass on the north side of the buoy and then haul up South-East until the water shoals to five fathoms, or until Whale Head bears South-West by West; then steer North-East by East for Mount Martha, the next hill north of Arthur’s Seat, until the latter bears South-East, when a course may be shaped for Hobson’s Bay.)
(***Footnote. The patch of dark bushes, breaking the sand beach to the northward, and forming one of the leading marks in, had been so thinned that it was very indistinct. Mr. LaTrobe, however, was going to remedy this evil by erecting a beacon on that spot.)
Whilst we were at Port Phillip this time, a schooner left in a somewhat mysterious manner, on board of which was the Honourable Mr. Murray, who fell afterwards in a conflict with the pirates at Borneo. The particulars of this gallant affair must be fresh in the recollection of my readers.
TIDES AT PORT PHILLIP.
Leaving Port Phillip,* we returned to Port Western to pick up the party we had left there. Mr. Fitzmaurice found Cape Patterson, of which I have before spoken, to lie fourteen miles South-West by West 1/2 West from the eastern entrance of Port Western,** and twenty-one miles North 55 degrees West from Cape Liptrap, the next headland to the eastward.
(*Footnote. The result of the tidal observations made at Shortland’s Bluff, gives 12 hours 20 minutes for the time of high-water on the full and change days. The simultaneous ones made in other parts of this great sheet of water during our stay, gave the times of high-water later as follows:
At William Town: 1 hour 0 minutes.
Under Arthur’s Seat: 1 hour 45 minutes. At Corio Harbour: 2 hours 30 minutes.
At the entrance of Port Phillip the rise at springs is only three feet and a half, when the stream makes in at 2 hours 0 minutes. It also continues to run out from one to two hours after the water begins to rise by the shore. The outward and inward streams differ considerably; the latter being from 5 to 5 1/2 hours’ duration, whereas the former is from 6 to 6 1/2 and 7. The outward stream between the heads sometimes attains a strength of nearly 7 knots, and when opposed to a southerly gale, causes a sea dangerous to small craft; these gales heap the water up in all parts of the bay, particularly at William Town in the northern corner. On such occasions there is scarcely any fall of tide perceptible near the entrance; the outward stream is then also much weaker. In the West Channel the flood and ebb-streams have a velocity of from 1 to 2 1/2 knots; but in the south it seldom exceeds two. Above the banks or in the inlet leading to Corio harbour there is scarcely any stream of tide perceptible; but through the channel over the bar at the latter the flood runs nearly three quarters of a knot. Outside the entrance the ebb sets between South by East and South-South-West for seven miles, when its strength is weakened to about a knot; from thence it trends more westerly towards the mouth of the Strait.)
CAPE PATTERSON.
Five and seven miles to the westward of Cape Patterson there are two rivulets, near the former of which an inferior kind of coal crops out; it occurs in beds of the carboniferous series. Between the two headlands above mentioned the shore falls back, forming a bight six miles deep, at the head of which is Anderson’s Inlet, six miles in extent, full of mud banks, and available for boats only. A river, called Toluncan by the natives, empties itself into the head of it.
(*Footnote. The observations on the tides at this place make the time of high-water at the full and change days 1 hour 10 minutes, when the rise is 8 feet. The stream in the main channel runs upwards of 2 knots, and off the North-East end of Grant Island it makes to the eastward about two hours before the time of high-water; this difference is to be attributed to the flood entering round both ends of the island.)
From Port Western we carried a line of soundings across the Strait to Circular Head,* the greatest depth midway between being 40 fathoms. Here, according to arrangement, we met the Vansittart. Bad weather had prevented Mr. Forsyth from completing the work allotted the cutter. We found the management of the Van Diemen’s Land Agricultural Company in the hands of Mr. Gibson, from whom we received great attention. The new system of letting lands, recently adopted by this Company, was working well; and it certainly appeared to be a very fair mode of getting their lands occupied.
DIRECTIONS FOR THE WESTERN ENTRANCE OF BASS STRAIT.
(*Footnote. My intention of getting some more soundings in the western entrance of Bass Strait was frustrated; but as I have entered into detail respecting the eastern entrance, I am induced to devote some space to a few directions, which may aid in averting a repetition of such terrible catastrophes as the late wreck of the Cataraqui on the western side of King Island. The western entrance, formed by the islands off the north-west point of Tasmania and the projection on the Australian continent called Cape Otway, is 108 miles wide. King Island, lying nearly midway, occupies 35 miles of this space, and leaves to the north of it a passage of 47 miles in width, and to the south one of 37 miles. The latter, however, is impeded by Reid’s Rocks, the Conway and Bell sunken rocks, with Albatross Island and the Black Pyramid; the tide also sets across it at the rate of from one to three knots, as I have already mentioned in the first volume; consequently, the entrance between King Island and Cape Otway is much safer, the chief danger being the Harbinger Rocks, two granite boulders, with deep water between, one lying North 74 degrees West three miles and a half, and the other North 88 degrees West, nearly four miles and a half from the north point of King Island, Cape Wickham, which may be recognized by a round hill, 595 feet high, over it. The southern Harbinger is a few feet only out of the water, and the other scarcely awash. These, with the Navarin Rock, lying North 25 degrees West, one mile and a half from the same cape, and the reef lying half a mile off Cape Otway, constitute the sole dangers in this entrance.
Masters of vessels should endeavour, if possible, to make the land in the neighbourhood of Cape Otway; but if the weather be thick they may know they are in the fairway of the Strait when they get into sixty fathoms, fine grey sand; in the same depth, with a rocky bottom, ships will be to the southward, and off the west side of King Island, which, as I have before described, is a rocky dangerous coast. There is a doubtful position of a sunken rock, ten miles West 1/2 North of the south point, which is low and rocky, and in latitude 40 degrees 10 minutes South, longitude 143 degrees 58 minutes East; whilst Cape Wickham is in latitude 39 degrees 35 minutes South, longitude 143 degrees 59 1/2 minutes, East; and Cape Otway in latitude 38 degrees 51 minutes South, longitude 143 degrees 35 1/2 minutes East of Greenwich, considering Sydney, to which these longitudes refer, to be in 151 degrees 16 minutes East.
Various opinions have been expressed as to the best position for a lighthouse at this entrance of the Strait, some recommending Cape Wickham; others, Cape Otway. I, however, hold to the latter, for this simple reason, that it will avoid bringing ships in the neighbourhood of the Harbinger Rocks and the western side of King Island. If a light were erected on Cape Wickham, and a vessel running for it should be to the southward of her position, she would risk sharing the fate of the Cataraqui,* unless more caution were used than is generally the case, I regret to say, in merchant vessels. Whereas, if the light were on Cape Otway, a ship to the southward of her position would have the Strait open to run through, and to the northward, would discover her error, by falling in with the land. The lead, also, would inform the master that his ship was near it, there being 30 fathoms ten miles from the land thirty-five miles to the westward of Cape Otway; the trend of the coast besides is too westerly to make it a lee shore.
(*Footnote. In consequence of a letter of mine that appeared in the Times, the owners of the Cataraqui have communicated with me, stating that they have reason to believe the Beagle’s chart of Bass Strait was among those with which the ship was furnished, and that with regard to leads and lines she was well supplied.)
From the middle of the entrance between Cape Wickham and Cape Otway, in 57 fathoms, fine grey sand, and in latitude 39 degrees 13 minutes South, longitude 143 degrees 48 minutes East, the course to the entrance of Port Phillip, is North-East 1/2 North seventy miles; the soundings will be found, at first, to decrease rapidly, and in the parallel of Cape Otway the depth will be 47 fathoms, fine sand and shells. Further particulars respecting the quality of the bottom off this part of the coast will be found in the first volume.
A South-East 1/2 East course 176 miles, from the same position, will take a ship to Port Dalrymple. In the first twenty-nine miles of this distance, the soundings will have decreased to nearly 30 fathoms, and the ship’s place should be then abreast of the North-East end of King Island, distant ten miles. The sight of this and, further on, of the Hunter Group, which should be passed at a distance of 20 miles to the South-West, will show if the right allowance has been made for the set of the tides. In the courses given in this note, the tidal influence has not been noticed; but I have above noticed the direction of the streams, and the allowance to be made will of course depend on what stream the ship enters or leaves the Strait with.
Again, from the same position, an east course, 136 miles, will place a ship four miles to the south of the Curtis Isles. The soundings will be found to decrease to 40 fathoms thirty miles to the eastward of King Island, and will continue within a fathom or two of that depth for the remainder of the distance.
Two hundred and four miles from the above position, on a North-East 1/4 East course, will take a ship to abreast of Cape Howe, distant twenty miles; passing midway between Hogan and Kent Groups, distant nearly nine miles from each, at which time twenty-eight miles will have been run on the above course. In passing the latter group, attention should be paid to the set of the tides; as with the flood-stream and a northerly wind vessels may be obliged to pass on the south side of it. Cape Howe bears from Kent Group, North 36 degrees East, 170 miles. When a ship gets into 30 fathoms she will be within 8 miles of the North-East side of these islands; and on the opposite she will have that depth half the distance off.
It only now remains to notice the tides in the passage north of King Island. It is high-water on the full and change days at 1 o’clock; the stream begins to set to the South-West three hours and a half before high-water, running with a velocity of from 1 to 2 knots; past the Harbinger Rocks, however, it sweeps round to the South-South-West, sometimes at the rate of nearly two knots and a half.
Having alluded to the entrance south of King Island in an earlier part of the work, and as it is a passage I do not recommend, I shall not here enter into many details respecting it, further than to say that if a ship is obliged to enter Bass Strait by that entrance, she should keep to the southward of Reid’s Rocks, passing close to the Black Pyramid, a dark rocky lump, 240 feet high, in latitude 40 degrees 28 minutes South, longitude 144 degrees 18 1/2 minutes East. This should be made bearing North-East 3/4 East, which would keep ships clear of the Conway and Bell sunken rocks, the former and outermost of which lies fifteen miles North 83 degrees West from it. The cross set of the tides should be particularly borne in mind, and likewise their strength, which is sometimes 3 knots. The stream to the South-West by South begins at 3 P.M. on the full and change days, or three hours and a half before high-water. The depth in the south entrance varies from 35 to 38 fathoms.
I shall perhaps make this note more useful by stating that January and February are the best months for making a passage to the westward through Bass Strait; although easterly winds blow on some rare occasions at other times, but these are mostly gales, and generally terminate in a breeze from the opposite quarter, having much the character of a rotatory gale, one of which I have described in an early part of the work. The gales that chiefly prevail in this Strait begin at North-North-West, and gradually draw round by West to South-West, at which point they subside; but if the wind, before it has so much southing, veer again to the northward of west–or backs, as it is expressed–the gale will continue; but its duration may be told by the barometer, as it is seldom fine when it registers less than 29.95, and bad weather is certain if it falls to 29.70.
N.B. The courses recommended in this note are marked in the chart accompanying the work.)
Our anchorage this time was on the south side of the singular natural fortification I have before described; and whilst there we were placed in some anxiety by being caught in a gale from the eastward. The holding-ground, however, being very good, and a strong outset sweeping out of the bay round the south side of the head, lessened the strain on the cables. The sudden appearance of this breeze, and the manner in which it was succeeded by another from the westward, afforded additional evidence of how necessary it is for anchorages in this strait to be sheltered from both quarters. A jetty, which has been run out by the Company, forms available shelter at high-water for vessels of nine and ten feet draught.
On the 20th of January, having made a valuable set of tidal* and other observations, and arranged with Mr. Forsyth to meet him at Hobart, we sailed in the afternoon, and next morning passed half a mile from the south side of the Pyramid, in 35 fathoms. It is a light-coloured mass, worthy of its name, 300 feet high. From thence we steered towards Cape Frankland, the North-West point of Flinders Island, which we had still to examine, decreasing the soundings gradually to 26 fathoms within two miles and a half to the West-North-West of it. We could see nothing of the sunken rock said to lie two miles west from the above headland; yet, as we have not exactly gone over the spot, it has been marked in the chart with a p.d. against it.
(*Footnote. The line of high-water at the full and change is 11 hours 40 minutes, when the rise is 9 feet.)
HUMMOCK ISLAND.
I was also anxious to obtain a distant seaward view of Hummock Island,* which affords the best shelter for ships in westerly winds.
(*Footnote. This island, which affords a plentiful supply of fuel, is between five and six miles long, and scarcely half a mile in width, with a North by East trend. The anchorage lies abreast of the middle Hummock, where the depth is six fathoms, and may be approached by passing round either the north or south end of the island. Some low islets lie a mile and a half off the latter, with a narrow passage between; and a reef extends three quarters of a mile off the north point, which is in latitude 40 degrees 1 minute South, longitude 3 degrees 27 minutes West of Sydney, or 147 degrees 49 minutes East. It is distant three miles and a half from the nearest point of Flinders, where is situated the settlement of Tasmanian natives. A tide of from half to one knot sets through between, and the flood-stream comes from the northward. The outline of Hummock Island is so remarkable that it cannot fail of being recognised. In thick weather the navigator may know he is approaching this, and the other islands fronting the western side of Flinders, by having a depth of less than thirty fathoms.)
The north-west part of Flinders Island has a bold rugged outline. From our position off Cape Frankland, we carried a line of soundings across the passage south of Craggy Island, passing two miles to the eastward of it in twenty-seven fathoms. We then ran out of the strait and up to Sydney, to leave what stores were not absolutely required during the passage to England, for the use of the ships on the station.
RAILROADS FROM SYDNEY.
Having spoken of the feasibility of railroads in other parts of New South Wales, I cannot leave Sydney without suggesting what appear to me to be the most practicable directions for lines leading from that capital. As the country between Parramatta and Sydney is very hilly, I would recommend that part of the journey should be performed in a steamer; and that the railroad should commence on the right bank, about seven miles from the town. An extension of this line would lead into the north-western interior. Towards the south, and in the direction of the Manero district, the line ought to pass round the head of Botany Bay, and by following some of the valleys trending southwards, might reach nearly to Illawarra, the garden of New South Wales. In this manner, the rich Manero corn country, and the coalfields of Illawarra, might be brought into connection with Sydney, and a prodigious development imparted to the whole colony.
MORETON BAY.
I regretted being obliged to leave this part of Australia without visiting Moreton Bay, as a survey of the mouth of the Brisbane River would have enabled the settlers of that district, now rapidly increasing, to have sent their produce direct from thence to England; whereas, until a chart of it is published, masters of large ships do not like to go there. The residents are in consequence obliged to submit to the expense of first shipping their merchandise to Sydney. The Moreton Bay district is perhaps one of the most fertile on the continent, combining the advantages of great partial elevation and of proximity to the equator, so that, within a comparatively short distance, the productions of both the tropical and the temperate zones may be found. Corn grows on the high plains; bananas, raisins, etc., on the lowlands; in short, as in Mexico, the traveller finds, in ascending from the sea-coast to the summit of the hills, almost the same successive gradations of climate as in passing from the tropics towards the poles.
FAREWELL TO SYDNEY.
Our final arrangements were soon made; and on the 18th of February, the Beagle was turning out between the heads.* I cannot for the last time bid adieu to a place, which had become to us as it were a second home, without once more alluding to the reception I had experienced from its inhabitants. To enumerate any particular instances would be invidious; space forbids me to pay due acknowledgments to all. In general, therefore, I must say, that every attention which kindness and hospitality could suggest, was paid to the officers of the Beagle, and a debt of gratitude accumulated which it will be difficult to repay.
(*Footnote. It is worthy of mention, that vessels working in against the ebb-tide, should get close under the inner south head before making a board across the entrance, as the stream sets round the north head a knot an hour to the northward, but has a southerly direction from one to two miles off.)
Fresh easterly winds in the first instance, and light northerly ones latterly, carried us rapidly to the southward, and towards midnight of the 21st, we crossed the parallel of 39 degrees 31 minutes South,* steering South by West 1/2 West.
(*Footnote. In this latitude a shoal was reported to have been seen by a vessel bound to Sydney, from Banks Strait, in 1838. The master of her states, that he sounded on it in seven fathoms, and saw moored kelp occupying the space of about half a mile. As this vessel’s latitude, by her run from Banks Strait, was twenty miles further south, we cannot place much confidence in this report, in which it is stated, that when Cape Barren bore West eight miles, they steered North-East for sixty miles, when finding themselves, near noon, close to broken water, they wore the vessel’s head round to the southward, and sounded in seven fathoms in kelp; the latitude by observation being 39 degrees 31 minutes South. As it was blowing strong at the time from the North-West with a high sea, and as there was only one cast of the lead taken, in the confusion of wearing, it is possible they might have been deceived. The kelp might have been adrift, and the sea, in that neighbourhood, often breaks irregularly as if on foul ground. The position of this supposed shoal, by the run from Banks Strait would be, latitude 39 degrees 51 minutes South, longitude 149 degrees 40 minutes East; but as this gives a difference of twenty miles in the latitude by observation, and as the Beagle has crossed those parallels ten times between the meridians of 148 degrees 4 minutes and 150 degrees 13 minutes, and, moreover, as the position assigned this shoal lies so much in the track of vessels running between Hobart and Sydney, there is every reason to doubt its existence.)
EAST COAST OF TASMANIA.
On the 23rd, we passed along the east coast of Tasmania, at the distance of eight miles. The weather being fine and the water smooth, we had frequent opportunities of testing the accuracy of the present chart, which we found to be about three miles in error both in latitude and longitude; the latter with respect to the meridian of Fort Mulgrave.*
(*Footnote. Strange to say, the position assigned this place in the chart, 147 degrees 28 minutes East is much in error with regard to longitude, as Fort Mulgrave is 3 degrees 52 minutes 35 seconds West of Sydney, or 147 degrees 23 minutes 25 seconds East; this, with the error I have already alluded to in the east coast of Tasmania, the most available one for shipping, points out the necessity of having the survey of that island completed.)
JOURNEY TO LAUNCESTON.
Next afternoon we entered the Derwent and anchored off Hobart. Finding that his Excellency Sir John Franklin had just left for Launceston, I proceeded thither to wait on him. Our stay in the Derwent depending on a favourable change in the weather, it was necessary that we should be always in readiness to leave, and accordingly I travelled by the fastest conveyance, the mail-cart, a sort of gig drawn by one horse, which, however, by means of frequent changes and good cattle, manages to average nine miles an hour. It leaves Hobart, at half-past seven P.M., and reaches Launceston a little before eleven the following morning. It was a cold, bleak night; but as the road was excellent, and I was well muffled up, with my feet in a bag, the time passed cheerily. The general topic of conversation during the journey was about some three desperate bushrangers,* who appeared to keep all the innkeepers in dread of a visit. At one place we stopped at, the host came up with a rueful countenance, and told us that it was only the previous night that he had been stuck up, with a pistol at his head, while they took what they wanted from his larder.
(*Footnote. The most notorious of these characters was one Michael Howe, who became a bushranger in 1812. In 1817 he separated from his party, taking with him a native girl, whom he shot when hotly pursued, because he imagined she might occasion delay. He twice surrendered on condition that his life should be spared; but soon resumed his predatory habits. In 1818 he was killed by three men who had planned his capture; having been nearly seven years in the bush, part of the time entirely alone. He committed several murders, and robberies innumerable. His head was conveyed to Hobart. In his knapsack was found a sort of journal of his dreams written with blood, and strongly indicative of the horrors of his mind.)
The first half of the journey was over a rather hilly and gradually rising country; the road then winds through almost one continued vale, bounded on either side by broken ranges of mountains. The noble Ben Lomond appears quite close on the right as you approach Launceston. I was much pleased with the comfortable inns on this line of road, the greater part of which is as smooth as a gravel walk.
RAILROADS IN TASMANIA.
I could not avoid, during this journey, being forcibly struck with the great facilities afforded by the road from Hobart to Launceston for a railway; and I have since heard and seen enough to convince me, that not only would such an undertaking be practicable, but that it would greatly conduce to the prosperity of Tasmania. At present, most of the productions of the northern part of the island are necessarily, on account of the expense of land-carriage, shipped at Launceston or Port Dalrymple, whereas the Derwent affords such superior facilities for the purposes of commerce, that if a means of cheap and rapid intercourse with it existed, nearly the whole export and import traffic of the coasts would be drawn thither. I have already observed that large vessels at Launceston cannot discharge alongside the wharfs. Besides, on the whole of the northern coast, with the exception of the Hunter Islands, there is no place of safety for a ship in all winds that a stranger would like to run into, the mouth of the Tamar being too much occupied with shoals. On the other hand, Hobart lies on that part of the island which may be approached with the greatest safety, being on a weather shore, whereas the northern side is partly a lee one. In saying thus much, I do not mean to imply that a private company, under ordinary circumstances, could construct a line with immediate advantage to itself, though I will go so far as to say, that in a very few years, comparatively, an ample remunerative return might be expected. What I especially desire to insist upon, is the fact, that a railroad traversing Tasmania from north to south would be a great benefit to the community, would stimulate trade, and consequently production, and would aid in restoring the prosperity which it once enjoyed.
LABOUR MARKET.
This being granted, let us take into consideration the condition of the labour market in that country, and observe what an opportunity now presents itself of executing a work of prodigious magnitude at a comparatively trifling cost. It will be seen at once that I allude to the population of probationers, pass-holders, ticket-of-leave men, who now compete with the free inhabitants, and cause the whole land to throng with people in want of work, with paupers and with thieves.
The great evil at present complained of by the settlers of Tasmania, is the superabundance of labour. In most other colonies the contrary complaint is made; and were it not for peculiar circumstances, the great demand in one place would soon relieve the pressure in the other. But it must be remembered, that the glut in the Tasmanian labour market is produced by the presence of crowds of convicts, in various stages of restraint, all prevented from leaving the island, and forced to remain and seek employment there; so that as soon as the demand for labour falls off, or the supply of it becomes disproportionately large, it is the free population that is necessarily displaced.
The effect, therefore, of the gradual pouring of a superabundance of convict labour into this island, must naturally be, first, to check free immigration; and secondly, to drive away those who have actually established themselves on it as their second home, and may perhaps have abandoned comfort in England in hopes of affluence there. So great is the number actually leaving the place every year, that it is calculated that in six years, at the same ratio, there will be absolutely none left.
COMMERCIAL DISTRESS.
And yet, no further back than 1841, the Legislative Council voted 60,000 pounds to encourage immigration, thus needlessly taxing the colony to aid in producing a disastrous result, which certainly, however, no one seems to have foreseen.
Who, indeed, four years ago, could have believed that, above all other things, there should arrive a glut in the labour market? Such an event was looked upon as absolutely impossible in the full tide of prosperity that covered the island. Everything wore a smiling aspect. The fields were heavy with harvests, the roads crowded with traffic; gay equipages filled the streets; the settler’s cottage or villa was well supplied with comfort, and even with luxuries; crime, in a population of which the majority were convicts or their descendants, was less in proportion than in England; in short, for the first time, in 1840 the exports exceeded the imports; trade was brisk, agriculture increasing, new settlers were arriving; everything betokened progress; no one dreamed of retrogression or decay.
In four years all this has been reversed. We now look in vain for the signs of prosperity that before existed. In their place, we hear of complaints loud and deep; of insolvency, of reduction in the Government expenditure; of a falling off of trade; of many beggars, where none before were known; of large agricultural estates allowed partially to return to their natural wildness; of cattle and all stock sold at half their original cost, and of every symptom of agricultural and commercial distress. I may further add, that the funds derived from the sale of Crown lands in Tasmania in the year 1841, amounted to 58,000 pounds; in 1844, to 2000 pounds; and in 1845, to nothing. The revenue, in the same time, has decreased one half; and, to close the financial account, at the end of 1844 the colony was in debt to the Treasury, 100,000 pounds.
REMARKS ON CONVICT DISCIPLINE.
Though many other causes may have co-operated in producing this change, it seems acknowledged by most persons, that the result is chiefly traceable to the disproportionate increase of the convict population, acting in the manner I have already described; and this is itself encouragement to reconsider the system of 1842. But if, as some maintain, this plan has inflicted serious evils, in a moral point of view, both on the free population and on the convicts themselves, there is still greater inducement to examine whether some better mode could not be devised.
I do not intend, however, to enter into the question of convict discipline. It would be beside my purpose to do so; and want of space, moreover, forbids it. But I cannot refrain from observing, that one feature in the new plan–that of congregating criminals during one period of their punishment in probation gangs, almost isolated from the free settlers–seems productive of anything but good. Under the system of assignment, whatever other objections there may have been to it, the convict had at least an excellent chance of becoming a better man, especially when drafted to a pastoral or agricultural district. Whereas, now that the well-disposed and the irreclaimably bad are often brought constantly together in the same class, it is much more difficult for them to regain that self-command and those moral sentiments, the loss of which brought them to their degraded position of prisoners. Having constantly before their eyes the garb and stamp of their infamy, reformation, if not impossible, is extremely difficult. Pass them on the highways at any time; and, in obedience to an irresistible impulse, they will leave off their work to look at you, and the comparison of your dress and condition, with their own distinctive costume and forced occupation, instead of awakening a spirit of hope and a determination to regain freedom, induces melancholy and despair. A dogged and sullen silence soon becomes the characteristic of these men; their features are stamped with the worst passions of our nature; and in many cases despondency is triumphant, and they make no proper or continued efforts to reclaim themselves.
Even when a probation pass has been obtained, it is grievous to reflect that, in numerous instances, except in the single quality of industry, not only has no improvement taken place in the character of the prisoner, but that he has become more hardened and corrupt than when he left England. The horrible scenes of depravity he has witnessed in the barracks whence he has emerged, must have produced their natural effect on his mind. I cannot help thinking that this system of concentration is extremely impolitic. We all know what a detrimental influence the associating of men, punished for an offence comparatively trifling, with others convicted of the most flagrant outrages upon society, exerts upon the former. The experience of our prisons testifies to the fact. Can it be expected, then, that the same agglomeration of bad characters in Tasmania should be harmless? I foretell that this part of the new system will be shortly abandoned, and that at any rate the men will be provided with separate cabins for sleeping berths. The granting the prisoners occasional holidays of a week, would have a great effect in whetting their desire to finally obtain their liberty; and a change or improvement in their apparel, in proportion to their good conduct, would also be very beneficial.
In my opinion, however, the system of concentration is radically defective. It supposes the existence in the breasts of criminals of a principle of action, and a desire of improvement and of a change in their condition sufficiently powerful to enable them to resist the temptations to vice held out by habitual intercourse with the depraved. No doubt there are individuals to be found, even among those who have incurred the penalty of banishment from their native country, of firm character and strong sympathy for virtue; but the majority must of course consist of men almost incapable of resisting momentary impulses, of weak or perverted understandings, of strong animal passions, naturally or from habit averse to what is good, and prone to that which is bad. In such cases association must inevitably be pernicious; and pardon can only be obtained by comparative, not absolute reformation. By the dispersion of convicts, under the assignment system or otherwise, the effects of evil communication will be guarded against, and those of intercourse with the virtuous and the honest substituted.
I am not of course, as I have said, prepared here even to sketch a new plan of convict discipline; but I think that the suggestion I have made with reference to the employment of prisoners in the construction of railroads, the capital to be supplied by a private company, would afford a temporary relief to the labour market, whilst it would confer a lasting benefit on the colony. During the diversion thus created, time would be afforded for digesting a plan of convict discipline, which should be consistent with economy, with a due regard to the interests of the settlers, and with the moral improvement of the prisoners.
LIGHTHOUSES IN BASS STRAIT.
I would also suggest another mode of employing the probationers. They might be dispersed through the islands in Bass Strait, and engaged in constructing the lighthouses which are so much wanted there. Six years ago his Excellency Sir John Franklin drew the attention of the Government of New South Wales to the necessity existing for these lighthouses. On this occasion a mass of evidence was given before the Legislative Council as to which would be the most eligible sites; but up to this period only two have been founded, both by the Tasmanian Government, one on the Chappell Isles, another in Banks Strait. The important ones for the eastern and western entrances of the Strait have been neglected, although the fullest information was obtained on the subject. Opinions concur in representing Kent Group as the best position for a light at the eastern entrance, where certainly one is most required, the Strait being there so much impeded with rocks and islands. I gave my opinion to this effect before the Legislative Council, in September, 1842. At the same time, for the western entrance, I recommended Cape Otway in preference to the north end of King Island, for reasons already assigned.* The melancholy wrecks that have of late occurred in Bass Strait will, it is to be hoped, direct immediate attention to the construction of these lighthouses, and I think that the collateral benefits to be derived from the dispersion of the convicts ought to be given their due weight. The expense would, in consequence of the ample supply of labour, be small; some of the islands afford stone in abundance; and the convicts might raise part of their food in the vicinity of the proposed buildings. I cannot but think that this, in the end, will prove a lucrative undertaking for Government; as on the number of vessels that pass, light-dues of about a penny a ton might be levied.
(*Footnote. The following is the Report of the Committee of the Legislative Council of New South Wales, on lighthouses proposed to be erected in Bass Strait: Your Committee have the honour to report, that having been favoured with the attendance of Captain Stokes, of her Majesty’s ship Beagle, lately returned from a survey of Bass Strait, and ascertained his ideas as to the best position for placing a lighthouse at the western entrance thereof, they are induced to change their opinion as set forth in their Report of the 1st September, 1841, and to coincide with him in thinking that Cape Otway would be a better site for a lighthouse than King Island, as being equally advantageous to the trade at large, and much more so to that of Port Phillip.
It would appear, too, that no danger could accrue to vessels endeavouring to make the former, while much mischief might arise in trying to sight the latter, should there be any error in their reckoning; and that it is therefore desirable to keep them as far as possible to the northward of King Island, instead of inducing them to risk the danger of approaching it, to ascertain their true position.
Captain Stokes perfectly coincides with the Committee, in the opinion formerly expressed by them, that the eastern island of Kent Group, is the best position for a light at the eastern entrance of Bass Strait; and they beg leave respectfully to recommend to your Excellency and honourable Council, that immediate steps may be taken for commencing so desirable an undertaking as the erection of a lighthouse on that spot.
(Signed) J. GIBBES, Chairman. Council Chamber, 6th September, 1842.)
In another part of this work I have adverted to the desirability of forming other convict establishments than those at present existing, particularly on the north-west and north-east coasts; and I would especially recommend the neighbourhood of Hanover Bay on the former, and Halifax Bay on the latter.* By these means many hitherto untrodden lands may speedily be adapted to the purposes of colonization, and reclaimed from their present unprofitable state. In a country like Australia, where the proportion of bad land predominates, it is almost necessary, in the first instance, to force settlements by means of convict labour. A number of buildings is always a cheering sight to a settler on his first arrival, and gives him encouragement to exertion; whereas, if the country wears its natural arid, desolate, uninviting appearance, dejection and despondency ensue.
(*Footnote. We have just learned that it is the intention of Government to form a settlement of the kind mentioned in the text on the north-east coast; and that the province is to be called North Australia, the southern boundary of which is to be the 26th parallel. I have already expressed my opinion, that convicts should not be sent to Port Essington, as the proximity of the islands would afford them facilities of escape.)
COMET.
During our stay in the Derwent, perhaps one of the most splendid comets that has ever appeared, illuminated the southern hemisphere for several nights. We did not see it until the evening of the 5th of March; but it was observed on the 2nd at Launceston; and by a ship at sea, off Cape Leeuwin, on the 27th of February. Several observations were made with it, when the nucleus, which was of a deep red colour, somewhat resembling the planet Mars, was visible.* The length of the tail (on the 5th) measured forty degrees; but was afterwards ten degrees longer. Towards its centre it showed great intensity of light, becoming visible in the crepusculum before stars of the second magnitude. Through its more attenuated extremity, the stars were plainly seen, the coma seeming to be much less dense, showing the sky through the centre like a dark line.
(*Footnote. On the evening of the 5th its right ascension was found to be about 0 hours 13 minutes 0 seconds, and declination about 13 degrees 0 minutes South. The following evening it was observed to have had a motion of above three degrees and a half in the direction of the constellation Orion; the right ascension being 0 hours 26 minutes 0 seconds, and the declination 12 degrees 50 minutes South. On the following night it was found to have had a further motion in the same direction, and with much the same velocity. Its position, shortly before setting, was as follows: right ascension 0 hours 41 minutes 0 seconds, declination 12 degrees 30 minutes South.)
COLONIAL CORN.
Whilst we were in the Derwent, a ship was loading with corn for England; and I could not help regretting that, although grain from these colonies, on account of its dry nature, is well adapted for a long voyage, the heavy duty almost shut it out from the English market. It was impossible not to feel, that justice as well as policy should have dictated the admission of Australian wheat on the same terms as Canadian. The injury inflicted by the exclusive system pursued, is, that less land is put under cultivation, and fewer people are encouraged to go there; both the colony and the mother country are sufferers thereby.
CHAPTER 2.14. AUSTRALIA TO ENGLAND.
Sail from Tasmania.
The South-west Cape.
Monument to Flinders.
Rottnest Island.
Lighthouse.
Penal Establishment.
Longitude of Fremantle.
Final departure from Western Australia. Rodrigue Island.
Effects of a hurricane at Mauritius. The crew and passengers of a foundered vessel saved. Bourbon.
Madagascar.
Simon’s Bay.
Deep sea soundings.
Arrival in England.
Take leave of the Beagle.
The Surveying service.
The barometer, which had been rising gradually within the last three days, now standing at 30.20, showed that the opportunity of getting round the South-West Cape, had at length arrived. We therefore left Sullivan Cove on the morning of the 15th; and by the following midnight passed the above-mentioned storm-beaten headland with a fine northerly wind. Previous, however, to so doing, we had soundings in 84 fathoms, six miles South-West of the Mew Stone. From the result of others we had obtained at different times off the south coast of Tasmania, it appears that soundings of a moderate depth extend out only a short distance, and that a ship in 60 fathoms will be within ten miles of the land.
MONUMENT TO FLINDERS.
It had been my intention, on our passage to the westward, to have examined the south and west sides of Kangaroo Island, with the rocks lying off the former. I was also anxious to visit South Australia for another meridian distance, those already obtained not being satisfactory, I wished, moreover, to comply with Sir John Franklin’s desire, that we should set up a monument, dedicated to the memory of poor Flinders, which he had sent to Port Lincoln, the centre of his honoured commander’s most important discoveries on the south coast of Australia.* The performance of such a task would have constituted an appropriate conclusion to our labours on the shores of this great continent; and certainly nothing could have been more agreeable to our feelings than to be instrumental in paying a tribute of respect to our distinguished predecessor in the career of discovery. I shall always regret that we were prevented from doing so. At the same time I must say, that it will reflect great discredit on the colony of South Australia, if some portion of its wealth be not devoted to the erection of a suitable monument to the memory of Flinders in one of the squares of Adelaide.
(*Footnote. Sir John Franklin was a midshipman with Captain Flinders when he discovered this part of Australia.)
Strong northerly winds prevented us, as I have above hinted, from closing with the land, we consequently continued our course to the westward; and on the twenty-third day arrived at King George’s Sound, whence, after completing our wooding and watering, we sailed on the morning of the 21st of April. At noon we passed between Bald Head and Vancouver Reef.*
(*Footnote. See plate.)
ROTTNEST LIGHTHOUSE.
In the forenoon of the 23rd we saw the lighthouse of Rottnest; and regarded it with great interest, as the work of the aborigines imprisoned on the island. I could not avoid indulging in melancholy reflections as I gazed upon this building, erected by the hands of a people which seemed destined to perish from the face of the earth without being able to leave any durable monuments of their existence, except such fabrics as this, constructed under the control of a conquering race. The time indeed, if we may judge from past experience, seems not far distant when the stranger, on approaching the shores of Western Australia, and asking who erected that lighthouse to guide him in safety to the shore, will be told it was the work of a people that once were and are now no longer.
Passing over the foul ground extending off the Stragglers, we ran into Owen’s anchorage during the first watch. Whilst waiting to rate the chronometers several soundings were added to our plan of this place, and a three-fathom patch, about a quarter of a mile in extent, was discovered, with nine on either side of it, lying nearly two miles and a quarter North 39 degrees West from Fremantle gaol.
PENAL ESTABLISHMENT.
We also visited Rottnest to inspect the establishment. It had now been a penal settlement for four years; besides erecting the buildings, the aboriginal labourers had cleared thirty-four acres of land, chiefly in detached valleys. These grew thirty-five bushels of wheat to the acre (in the Port Phillip district the return is about five more to the acre) and from thirty-four to forty bushels of barley. There are about two thousand acres of available land in the whole island. The average number of native convicts is about seventeen, and the expense of the whole establishment to Government is about 200 pounds per annum; but, under the good management of superintendent Vincent, it has realized 1500 pounds by the sale of corn and salt, and allowing for the value of the buildings erected.
His Excellency Governor Hutt had done a great deal for the improvement of the natives; the schools established for their instruction work exceedingly well; and I am happy to see that a most important step towards civilizing them has since been made, a white having taken a native woman as his wife. This may be regarded as in a great measure the result of the notice bestowed on them.
No opportunity occurred during our stay of adding to the observations I had previously made for the longitude of Fremantle (Scott’s Jetty); which, however, is the only part of the continent absolutely determined during the Beagle’s voyage. It is considered to be in longitude 115 degrees 47 minutes 50 seconds East.
Before leaving we received a letter of thanks from his Excellency and the members of the Legislative Council for the services we had rendered the colony. My friend Lieutenant Roe presented me, also, with two specimens of the Spined Lizard Moloch horridus, which I intended to present to Her Majesty; but, unfortunately, I did not succeed in bringing either of them alive to England; one, however, lived beyond the Western Islands.
DEPARTURE FROM WESTERN AUSTRALIA.
We left Swan River on the evening of the 6th of May, 1843, running out with a moderate North-East breeze. Everything seemed auspicious. The water was smooth, and the sails, as they slept in the breeze, echoed back the sounds of the well-known song, We are homeward bound, that was sung with an earnestness that could not be mistaken. I fancied I could discern, in the rough tones of the crew under my command, the existence of the same emotions that swelled in my own breast at this moment. For seamen, high and low, though content to pass the greater portion of their lives upon the world of waters, can never entirely suppress that yearning for home, which, perhaps, after all, is one of the finest traits in human nature. And now that it might be legitimately indulged, I was not sorry to see such strong evidences of its existence.
Ere the last vestige of day had passed, the coast of Australia had faded from our sight, though not from our memory; for, however much thoughts of the land to which we were returning crowded on our minds, they could not as yet entirely obliterate the recollection of that we were quitting. The Swan River colony–its history, its state, its prospects–naturally occupied much of our mind. What a change had come over it even since our visit! From a happy little family, if I may use the expression, it had grown into a populous colony, in which all the passions, the rivalries, the loves and the hates of the mother country were in some sort represented. And yet there remained still much of that old English hospitality, which rendered our first stay so pleasant, and which almost made us desire to prolong our last. The alteration that had taken place was rather to be referred to the increasing number of settlers, which rendered inevitable the formation of circles more or less exclusive, and which, with the forms of European society, promised to introduce many of its defects.
But our thoughts wandered, from time to time, over the whole of this extraordinary continent, which we saw for the first time in November 1837, at the point from which we took our departure, in May, 1843. The strange contrasts to the rest of the world which it affords were enumerated and commented upon–its cherries with their stones growing outside–its trees, which shed their bark instead of their leaves–its strange animals–its still stranger population–its mushroom cities–and, finally, the fact that the approach to human habitations is not announced by the barking of dogs, but by the barking of trees!*
(*Footnote. The trees in the vicinity of houses are generally barked to obtain a covering for the roofs.)
Westerly winds carried us into the South-East trade by the 13th, in latitude 22 degrees 30 minutes South four hundred miles from the North-west Cape, when our course was directed for the Mauritius. We found the trade very squally, and on one or two occasions managed to screw as much as eleven knots out of the old craft.
RODRIGUE ISLAND.
A little after noon on the 27th we saw Rodrigue Island sooner than we expected, in consequence of our finding it placed seven miles to the westward of its true position, even with reference to the meridian of the Mauritius. Our observations, in passing to southward, made the eastern end of it 5 degrees 59 minutes East of Port Louis, and 63 degrees 31 3/4 East of Greenwich, latitude 19 degrees 42 minutes South. I was rather surprised to find this error in the position of Rodrigue, as it is quite a finger-post for ships on their voyage from India to Great Britain. It trends east and west for seventeen miles, and is in width about six. For a volcanic island its features are not very remarkable; the highest part is a peak or excrescence, 1700 feet high, rising towards the eastern end out of a rather level ridge.
On the morning of the 29th, the high land of the Mauritius was seen breaking through the mass of clouds. Passing round the north end of the island, in the evening we reached Port Louis, where we found a French man-of-war that had just brought in the crew of a vessel foundered at sea. Their escape had been one of the most remarkable on record. The ship was from Liverpool, and was rounding the south-eastern point of Africa with a strong north-west wind, when she sprang a leak, which increased so fast, that the crew were ultimately obliged to abandon her and take to the boats. The sea was so great that they were compelled to run before the wind, with the prospect only of prolonging their lives for a brief space, no land lying in that direction.
PROVIDENTIAL ESCAPE.
Providentially, the morning following they found themselves alongside a French frigate; but the boats were so low in the water that for some time they escaped observation, and were nearly passed. At length, by waving a lady’s shawl in the air, they attracted the attention of the Frenchmen, and were taken on board, and treated with an attentive kindness, which entitled their preservers to the thanks of all who would wish to be so received under such circumstances. I regret that the name of the captain of the ship has escaped me; though I remember it being said, that he had himself been saved on a previous occasion by a Liverpool ship in the China Sea.
Not long before the arrival of the Beagle in Port Louis, a fleet of crippled vessels, the victims of a recent hurricane, might have been seen making their way into the harbour, some dismasted, others kept afloat with difficulty, firing guns of distress, or giving other signs of their helpless condition. The monotony of colonial life was suddenly disturbed, by no means disagreeably to some, as the telegraph told off a succession of lame ducks, as they were jocularly called, such as seldom or ever had been witnessed, even at that place. It required but a visit to the bell buoy, to see at a glance the destructive effects of the storm on the unfortunate ships.
EFFECTS OF HURRICANE AT MAURITIUS.
On the tranquil surface of the harbour lay a group of shattered vessels, presenting the appearance of floating wrecks. In almost all, the bulwarks, boats, and everything on deck had been swept away; some, that were towed in, had lost all their masts, others more or less of their spars; one had her poop and all its cabins swept away; many had four or five feet water in the hold, and the clank of the pumps was still kept up by the weary crew.
Such was the description given me of the circumstances under which the crowd of vessels that lay at anchor in Port Louis had arrived. I had anticipated that I should here be enabled to make some important additions to the notices of hurricanes that have occasionally appeared in this work; and certainly ample opportunity now presented itself. But I found that this interesting subject was in more able hands, those, namely, of Mr. Alexander Thom, of H.M. 86th Regiment, whose valuable observations have been laid before the public, in a work called, An Inquiry into the Nature and Course of Storms; a volume that embraces many important considerations for seamen, to whom, indeed, and to the ship-owner, Mr. Thom, by his scientific investigations, has proved himself a true friend.
It is curious that military men should have been the first to study the causes of hurricanes, and to tell sailors how to avoid their effects; but that such is the case, the works of Colonel Reid and of my friend Mr. Thom will testify.
I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of the latter gentleman in Port Louis. What he considered to be the grand sources of rotatory storms–winds charged with opposite kinds of electricity and blowing in opposite directions–appeared to account satisfactorily for the occurrence of hurricanes in the Pacific, where there are no continents or chains of mountains to produce them and guide their courses.
As so much has been already written about this interesting island, the Mauritius, and as, moreover, space forbids, I do not here make use of the mass of information with which Mr. Thom has kindly furnished me, respecting its history and resources, and the subject of Coolie labour; but on some future occasion I may be able to lay it before the public.
During my stay at Port Louis I received much hospitality, particularly from the family of Colonel Staveley, Commander of the Forces, which I take this opportunity of acknowledging.
We sailed from the Mauritius on the 10th of June, and on the following day passed about 20 miles south-east of the Island of Bourbon. It resembles a large cone emerging from the water; and its features are strikingly different from those of the Mauritius; the outline is not softened by luxuriant vegetation, but is sudden and steep and massive.
MADAGASCAR.
Southerly and westerly winds brought us in sight of Madagascar on the 16th, and on the same evening, aided by a southerly current of 2 knots an hour, we were just able to weather its South-East extreme. The features of this great island that were presented to our view approached the Alpine, and from a passing glimpse of the small hills near the shore, it appeared to be a fertile country. This portion of the globe is one of great interest to the world at large, especially when we know that, if considered as a naval or military station, it is scarcely equalled by any in the Indian Ocean; besides having a soil of the best description, and abounding also in mineral wealth, with timber fit for any purposes, and thousands of cattle running wild in its valleys. On the afternoon of the 27th we were within seven or eight miles of the land, near the great Fish River, on the south-eastern coast of Africa, having apparently got within the eddy of the westerly current, which sweeps round that part of the coast at the distance of thirty miles with a velocity of from two to five miles an hour, which we entirely lost after passing Algoa Bay. Within thirty miles of the latter place we had a strong gale from the southward of twenty-four hours duration; and on the morning of the 1st of July arrived at Simon’s Bay, in company with Her Majesty’s ship Belleisle, which sailed two days before us from the Mauritius. Nearly six years had elapsed since our last visit, and little improvement had taken place in colonial affairs.
(*Footnote. The little difficulty that strangers found in recognizing this anchorage at night, is now overcome by a light-vessel being placed near the Roman Rocks; but the streaks of sand, resembling snow, down the sides of the hills over Simons Bay, and the remarkable break in the high land over another bay, just to the northward, are sufficient guides of themselves in clear weather.)
On the 9th we were again on our way homeward. Touching at St. Helena* and Ascension, we crossed the equator on the forenoon of the 15th, in longitude 19 degrees 45 minutes West, where we endeavoured to obtain soundings with 2000 fathoms of line, which parted at 1600 fathoms. Respecting deep-sea soundings, there are some sceptical persons who, in consequence of the bottom not being brought up from the great depths reported to have been found, are inclined to doubt that soundings were actually obtained on those occasions.
(*Footnote. This place is famed for its large flying-fish, of which some are from 18 to 24 inches in length: and not a little so, for those monsters of the finny tribe called sharks. In the Admiralty book of directions, the fact is related of an artillery-man being found fully accoutred in the stomach of one taken there.)
ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND.
On the 24th a continuation of westerly winds* brought us in sight of St. Jago and Bravo, of the Cape de Verd Group; on passing which we got the North-East trade, and, after staying a part of the 10th and 11th at Fayal, where we met Her Majesty’s Steamer Styx, Captain Vidal, who, on parting, gave us three hearty farewell cheers, we did not, in consequence of easterly winds, arrive at Spithead until the 30th day of September, after an absence of upwards of six years. During this period we only lost two men, and preserved throughout almost the same spars** and boats,*** we left Plymouth with in 1831. From Portsmouth we proceeded round to Woolwich, where the ship was paid off on the 18th of October, 1843.
(*Footnote. Ships availing themselves of these winds, when, also, the westerly current ceases near the equator, might, by running away to the eastward in them, shorten the passage to either Ascension or St. Helena.)
(**Footnote. I have already mentioned that the Beagle was fitted with Mr. Snow Harris’s lightning conductors; the fact mentioned in the text is ample proof that they do not weaken even the smallest spars.)
(***Footnote. It is in justice due to say, that the boats were chiefly built by Mr. Johns, of Plymouth Dockyard.)
TAKE LEAVE OF THE BEAGLE.
After giving the men their certificates, I loitered a short time to indulge in those feelings that naturally arose on taking a final leave of the poor old Beagle at the same place where I first joined her in 1825. Many events have occurred since my first trip to sea in her: I have seen her under every variety of circumstances, placed in peculiar situations and fearful positions, from nearly the antarctic to the tropic, cooled by the frigid clime of the extreme of South America, or parched by the heats of North Australia; under every vicissitude, from the grave to the gay, I have struggled along with her; and after wandering together for eighteen years, a fact unprecedented in the service, I naturally parted from her with regret. Her movements, latterly, have been anxiously watched, and the chances are that her ribs will separate, and that she will perish in the river* where she was first put together. She has made herself as notorious as during the war did her namesake, that reaped golden opinions from her success in prize-making; while my old friend has extensively contributed to our geographical knowledge.
(*Footnote. The Beagle, now employed in the Preventive Service, is moored in Crouch Creek, near South End.)
THE SURVEYING SERVICE. CONCLUSION.
There was only one drawback to the pleasure I experienced on arriving in England–namely, that Lieutenant G. Gore did not obtain his promotion, but was compelled to seek it by a second voyage to the North Pole. All the mates were, in the course of a short time, promoted, and the ship’s company received the favour of having half of their slop bill deducted, an indulgence which the Lords of the Admiralty, from the kindest and most considerate motives, have in some instances bestowed upon the crews of surveying vessels, on their return from distant voyages. This boon, however, in some instances, operates unfairly. In the first place, it often happens, in spite of the strictest surveillance, that the worst characters will, if they can, take up the greatest quantity of slops, which they convert either into money or grog, whenever an opportunity presents itself. The really steady men generally look clean and neat as long as possible, without much assistance from the purser. Then again, the boats’ crews of all surveying vessels are necessarily so much more exposed, that they not only the sooner wear out their ordinary clothing, but absolutely require additional comforts in that way. I am therefore strongly of opinion that, in this department (and I speak from experience) the Captain should be allowed a certain portion of slops, to be placed at his disposal, and distributed under his sole authority; or might not he be enabled to recommend a certain number of the best men for a small increase upon their regular pay? This judicious exercise of discretion would be the means of retaining in this important branch of the service, a class of men who would become most valuable to their officers when engaged in the arduous and responsible duties of a survey.
As in the Royal Engineers, a great deal of the superior talent of the officers might be better bestowed, by abandoning to the petty officers the rougher part of the surveying work, in which calculation is not required. For this purpose, a kind of instruction might be imparted, which that class of men, if encouraged by extra pay, is capable of receiving, particularly those who have had the advantage of a Greenwich education.
To strengthen the suggestions I have made regarding the surveying service, I cannot refrain from alluding–and I do so with honest pride–both to the actions in China, and the very recent gallant destruction of the Argentine batteries in the River Parana, as instances of the importance of this branch of the profession in time of war. During peace the new countries that are explored, and the new fields of commerce that are opened to the world, will speak for themselves.
…
APPENDIX.
WINDS AND WEATHER ON THE WESTERN AND NORTHERN COASTS OF AUSTRALIA.
BY COMMANDER J.C. WICKHAM, R.N.
The winds on the western coast of Australia, are, for the most part, from some southern point–chiefly between South-South-West and South-South-East.
During the summer, or from the early part of October to the beginning of April, they are almost constant from this quarter; but in the winter their regularity is broken in upon by occasional winds between north and west that at times blow with great violence, and are accompanied by heavy rain, and thick dirty weather.
Near the shore, land and seabreezes appear to be regular, the former generally dying away towards the middle of the day, after having reached as far as East from about South-East at sunrise; then follows a short interval of calm, after which, the seabreeze sets in, mostly at South-South-West, and draws to the eastward of south in the evening.
At times the land wind veers round the compass, and is then generally stronger than usual; blowing fresh for a short time from North-East, and bringing a parching heat from the land; upon these occasions the seabreeze comes in from a more western point, and is lighter.
At Swan River, in the months of December, January, and February, the seabreezes are very strong, for intervals of from three to five days; during which time they blow fresh throughout the night–drawing to the southward after midnight, and towards sunrise to South-South-East and South-East, but more moderate. In the middle of the day, they back again to the southward, and soon to South-South-West, from which quarter they blow very fresh until midnight.
Intervals of such weather are from three to five days’ duration, and are followed by the like number of days of moderate weather, with winds mostly off the land; sometimes strong gusts from the east, for a few hours, with oppressively hot weather.
I have noticed, that when the seabreeze sets in from a point to the westward of South-West, it does not blow so strong, and generally lulls at sunset; but if more southerly, or from South-South-West, it is a fiery breeze, and often lasts until midnight.
During the prevalence of these strong seabreezes, communication between Gage Road and the shore is very inconvenient–particularly for laden boats.
In March, the seabreezes are not nearly so strong, but are generally moderate, and not unfrequently bring in thick misty weather from southwards, with drizzling rain.
Generally speaking, when the seabreezes are the strongest, the land winds are light, and vice versa.
I cannot speak from experience of the winds or weather during the month of April, at Swan River, but have been told that the seabreezes are moderate, and the land winds of longer duration; calms are frequent–and the weather altogether seems to indicate the breaking up of the summer season; light winds are occasionally felt from the northward, with a dull, gloomy appearance between that point and South-West.
May is the month in which the winter weather fairly sets in, and it rarely happens that the middle of this month passes without the rains having commenced. This season seems to vary but little as to the time and manner of setting in–it is ushered in by blowing weather, from about North-North-East, the wind gradually veering round to the westward, as it increases in strength. The first of this weather usually lasts from a week to fourteen days; then comes an interval of fine weather, generally of a fortnight’s duration, and sometimes a month; after which the rains set in more constant, and the intervals of fine weather are shorter; this weather lasts until October, and at times throughout that month.
During the intervals of fine weather the climate is delightful, and the country has a fresh and pleasing appearance; land and seabreezes are as regular as in summer, with the exception, that the latter are much more moderate.
The North-West gales that occasionally occur during the winter months, on the southern parts of the west coast of Australia, are probably felt as far north as Shark’s Bay. They blow with great violence, and are accompanied by dark, gloomy weather, and rain. It is then unsafe to be near the land–as the gale that commences at North-North-East, invariably veers to the westward, making a lee shore of the whole line of coast, and between West-North-West and West-South-West blows the hardest.
Fortunately these gales give ample warning; the barometer always foretells their approach, and generally begins to fall three or four days before the commencement of the gale–besides which, there are other never-failing indications of a northerly wind, such as, the change of the current, which (owing to the prevailing southerly winds) usually sets to the northward, but runs strong to the southward during northerly winds–frequently preceding them, and giving more timely notice than the barometer.
A rising of the water is likewise a certain prognostic of a northerly wind; and has been invariably noticed, at Swan River, to precede all gales from that quarter–this, of course, can only be observed while at anchor on the coast.
Another, and perhaps equally certain sign of approaching bad weather, during the winter season (and which is almost certain to be from the northward) is the strength of the North-East winds–as it has been observed, that when the land winds blow strong, particularly from the North-East and the seabreezes are light, with a falling barometer, a gale from the northward will follow. Perhaps these latter remarks, are only applicable to that distance from the shore, where a ship will be within the influence of the land and seabreezes; but as I conceive the limit of that distance to be full 30 miles off shore, a notice of such a symptom of approaching bad weather, may not be altogether useless. I am of opinion, that land winds are at times felt as far off shore as the edge of soundings, which is not less than 30 miles, and generally between that and 40.
(In latitude 30 degrees 25 minutes South and 65 miles from the land, soundings were got from the Beagle, with 185 fathoms of line, upon a coral bottom. Between Swan River and Houtman’s Abrolhos, soundings may be had at a greater distance from the land, than off any other part of the west coast.)
The North-West gales are of longer duration, in the latitude of Swan River, and south of that, than they are to the northward; they do not appear to be entirely confined to the winter months, as I am told that a very heavy one was experienced at Swan River, early in March, 1832, and on the 13th December, 1839, the Beagle experienced a strong breeze from the northward, while at anchor in Gage Road, in consequence of which, it was considered necessary to let go an extra anchor.
As it may be satisfactory to know more particularly the progress of these gales, and the effect they have upon the barometer and sympiesometer, I give the details of two that were experienced in H.M.S. Beagle, one at Swan River, in the beginning of June 1838, the other at Houtman’s Abrolhos, in the beginning of May 1840; they may be taken as fair criterions of the strength and duration of these gales, the latter having been experienced, probably, within 5 degrees of their northern limit, and the former near the southern extreme of the west coast.
As our barometer had been broken in March 1838, the register of a sympiesometer will be given in describing the gale of June in that year; but as this instrument had been found (by comparison with the barometer) to act exceedingly well, it will be sufficient for our purpose; the GENERAL use of a marine barometer being merely that of a weather glass, for which purpose a sympiesometer is equally good, and more sensitive.
For the gale of 1840, the register of a barometer is shown, which, although 0.2 too low, will serve to show the effect upon the mercury.
At Swan River, on the 24th of May, 1838, the wind was strong and squally from North-East by North; sympiesometer standing at 30.74. During the day the oil commenced to fall, and continued falling slowly until the 30th, when it was 30.16; during the greater part of this interval, the winds were light, generally from some eastern point in the morning, and going round the compass, by north and west, during the day; the nights were mostly calm, a heavy bank of clouds was collecting between North-North-East and South-West and the whole western horizon had a gloomy appearance. On the evening of the 30th, the water had risen considerably at the anchorage, and the stream ran to the southward; a fresh breeze also set in from North-East and gradually veered to the northward, as it increased in strength. On the 31st it blew hard all day, between North-North-East and North-North-West, with dark squally weather, much lightning in South-West and heavy rain, that continued all night. On June the 1st, the gale was at its height, and at 8 A.M. (the sympiesometer having fallen to 29.93) was blowing a hard gale, with heavy squalls and rain, from North-West; towards noon the wind veered to west, but still blew very hard; the sympiesometer now began to rise, and in the evening the wind was West-South-West and had moderated considerably, the weather was also clearer, although heavy clouds still hung on the western horizon.
The next morning (the 2nd) the sympiesometer had risen to 30.26; but this was much too sudden a rise (0.33 in 24 hours) to allow us to suppose, that the favourable change in the weather was to be of long continuance; during the day the oil began to fall again, and the wind veered to West and North-West and on the 3rd blew harder than ever, with heavy rain, thunder, and lightning; and, with the exception of occasional intervals, when the wind moderated, this weather continued until the 10th. The wind during this time was variable, between North-North-West and West-South-West, the sympiesometer between 29.81 and 30.16–falling with the North-West winds, and rising as the wind veered to west and West-South-West.
This gale, which may be said to have been of ten days’ continuance, caused a very heavy sea upon the coast; the oldest residents at Swan River said they had never experienced so heavy a sea before. On the 10th the glass commenced to rise steadily, and the weather was fine, with light variable winds, until the Beagle sailed (on the 20th).
Owing to the security of Owen’s anchorage, and the good quality of the bottom, the Beagle rode out this bad weather, without causing the slightest apprehension to anyone on board; but had a merchant vessel been in Gage Road, in all probability, she would have added one more to the list of wrecks, that have already done too much in prejudicing strangers against the Swan River settlement.
The gale of May, 1840, at Houtman’s Abrolhos, commenced in a similar manner with that already described, but being in a lower latitude, was of shorter duration, and the indications did not precede it such a length of time; still they were in every respect similar.
This gale commenced on the 2nd of May, in the evening, and lasted until the evening of the 4th.
on April the 29th, the barometer stood at 30.17 (having been some days steadily high); it then commenced to fall, and on the evening of May the 2nd, was 29.86; during this interval we daily experienced strong East-North-East and North-East winds; they generally commenced after midnight, and lasted until noon; a bank of clouds was also collecting in the North-West and there was occasional lightning in that quarter; the early part of May the 2nd was nearly calm, and there was a heavy bank of clouds between North and South-West. After noon a light breeze sprang up from North-West which gradually freshened; and during the night the barometer fell 17-hundredths.
At sunrise on May the 3rd, there was a fresh breeze from North-North-West and the weather had a very dull and gloomy appearance, the wind increasing rapidly, and by noon it blew a heavy gale at West-North-West; the barometer had fallen to 29.58, at which it continued until midnight, when the wind drew to the southward of west, and the mercury began to rise. The gale continued unabated, with squalls and rain, until noon of the 4th, although the barometer had been rising since the previous midnight; in the afternoon the wind moderated, and the weather became fine.
From this it would appear that the barometer gives ample warning of an approaching North-West gale, as it had been falling nearly four days before the commencement of the bad weather, this alone ought to be sufficient to put a man upon his guard if near the shore. Between April the 29th (the first day of the fresh north-easterly winds) and May the 3rd (when the gale was at its height, and the wind began to draw to the southward of west) the mercury had fallen 6-tenths. The change of current did not precede the wind, but changed with it; when the gale was strong from North-West and West-North-West the current ran a knot an hour to the South-East, and when the wind changed to South-West it ran with the same velocity to the North-East.
The west coast of New Holland is at times visited by sudden squalls, resembling hurricanes. I was told by the master of an American whaler, that in March 1839, when in company with several whalers off Sharks’ Bay, he experienced some very bad weather, which came on suddenly, without having given any previous warning, but it was not of long continuance; the gusts of wind were very violent, shifting suddenly to all points of the compass. Some of the ships suffered considerable damage, in loss of topmasts, etc. others in sails, but all more or less. I think the first squall was from North-East off the land.
The American whalers that resort to the west coast of Australia, are upon different parts of it at all seasons of the year; their range is between the parallel of 10 and 50 degrees of south latitude. In the summer they fish to the southward, and at that season visit Swan River and King George’s Sound, for refreshments; but during the winter months they are rarely to the southward of Sharks’ Bay; numbers are to be met off the North-West Cape.
Between the parallels of 40 and 45 degrees they meet much bad weather, as it is generally blowing strong with a heavy sea; but between 45 and 50 degrees the weather is much more settled, and finer. November is said to be generally the finest of the summer months, the winds are mostly moderate, and the weather more settled than at other periods.
Two gales that were experienced by the Beagle in November 1837, between the islands of St. Paul and Amsterdam and Swan River, will serve to show the different effects upon the barometer by gales from opposite quarters, one being from North-West and the other from South-East.
On November the 1st, the barometer stood at 29.90, having been gradually rising for some days previous to that, and the wind had been fresh between north and west. After 8 P.M. on the 1st, the mercury began to fall, and on the 2nd, the wind was strong from North-North-West–barometer falling all day. During the night it blew a heavy gale, and the barometer fell to 29.34. On the morning of the 3rd the wind veered to the westward, and the mercury began to rise, the weather also became more moderate, and gradually fine.
On the 8th of the same month, the barometer was 30.05 at 8 P.M. with fine weather, wind South-East by East, it then commenced to fall, and at 8 P.M. on the 9th was 29.80, and blowing a heavy gale at South-East, which continued all night, and until 8 P.M. on the 10th, at which time it became more moderate, and the barometer began to rise.
What a different effect these gales had on the barometer; that from the North-West causing the mercury to fall nearly 6-tenths, whereas, the last, from South-East only lowered it 2-tenths, and 5-hundredths; they were of equal strength and duration, and both accompanied by heavy rain.
…
ON THE NORTH-WEST COAST OF AUSTRALIA.
The great extent of the North-West coast of Australia, lying as it does between the parallels of 12 and 22 degrees of south latitude, no doubt subjects it to a variety of winds and weather, that is not experienced on the north coast; although, on that part of it north of the parallel of 15 degrees, there is probably much similarity.
As I cannot speak with certainty of the winds and weather that prevail on this extent of coast, at all seasons of the year, the following remarks will be confined to such portions of it as were visited by the Beagle, and will apply only to the particular seasons in which she was employed there.
To the eastward of the meridian of 123 degrees east longitude, and at a short distance from the land, the east and west monsoons will be found regular; but the easterly monsoon is very light to the southward of 13 degrees latitude.
Between Clarence Straits and Cambridge Gulf, and during the months of September, October, November, and December, the wind during the day is a seabreeze between North-West and West. In September, and until the middle of October, we found the wind as follows: About sunrise, a light breeze sprang up from South-East or East which gradually drew to the northward towards the middle of the day, in the afternoon, a seabreeze from North-West or west, becoming light towards sunset, but freshening again soon after that, and blowing a moderate and pleasant breeze between North-West and South-West all night.
During the latter part of the period (November and December) the winds were more constantly from the West or West-North-West, blowing from that quarter throughout the twenty-four hours, but much more moderate at night than during the day; at full and change of the moon, the breezes were much stronger than at other times, and upon one or two occasions, at the time of the moon’s quartering, there was a light breeze from South-East in the morning.
During the month of November, the ship was at anchor, twelve miles within the entrance to Victoria River, and sixty-five from Point Pearce, on the sea coast. For the first three weeks of this time, the seabreeze was regular from North-West or West-North-West, generally setting in about noon, and lasting the greater part of the night; in the mornings, and until noon, it was mostly calm, or very light winds from the northward. In the last week of this month the weather was very unsettled and squally, with much thunder and lightning, and rain, the wind mostly between South-East and North-East; after which, the westerly breezes set in again, and continued until we left the coast in the middle of December.
During the whole of this period the westerly winds did not appear to come from any distance, but to be merely local seabreezes, as they did not cause any sea upon the coast, nor did they reach far in shore; as we frequently observed smoke at no great distance from the coast, rising perpendicularly, or influenced by a light south-easterly wind, and this at times when the seabreeze was strong. From this it would appear, that the westerly monsoon had not reached so far to the southward, nor did we find, after sailing from Point Pearce, that the winds were at all steady from the westward, until we had reached to the northward of Cape Londonderry, which is in latitude 13 degrees 45 minutes South. To the northward of this, the winds were from the westward, accompanied by fine weather during the day to the southward of that point–sometimes as far as South-West–and at night inclining to the northward of west, but generally speaking, we found the wind to the southward of west, and the current running from half a mile to a mile an hour to the North or North-North-East.
The currents between New Holland and Timor, are said to run to the westward, during the easterly monsoon–and in the opposite direction with the westerly; but they seem to be influenced by every trifling change of wind–as on the 20th, 21st, 22nd, and 23rd of December (when the westerly monsoon might be supposed at its height) we experienced light, variable winds, between South-East and East-North-East–during which period the current ran to the westward–at times, a knot an hour. We were then between the parallels of 11 1/2 and 13 degrees, south of which we experienced winds between South-South-West and West until we were to the southward of the North-West Cape, when they became more southerly, and at times South-South-East (in January). Throughout all this period, the weather was fine, and different from what was expected during the westerly monsoon.
All that part of the North-West coast of New Holland, between the North-West Cape, and Cape Londonderry, appears to be very much subjected to light winds, particularly during the easterly monsoon, the strength of which is not felt to the southward of 13 or 14 degrees of south latitude. During the westerly monsoon, strong winds and gales from the North-West at times blow upon the coast, but they do not appear to be frequent. The strongest winds at this season, are the heavy squalls between East-South-East and North-East (and which may with propriety be termed hurricane squalls); fortunately they are not of long duration, rarely lasting over two hours. They give ample warning of their approach, by the gathering of a heavy bank of clouds between North-East and South-East, and much lightning in that quarter. Appearances such as these frequently precede the squall some days, but coming gradually nearer (to the westward). The barometer shows no indication of approaching bad weather, being only acted upon by the immediate change; these squalls mostly occur in the night, or between sunset and sunrise.
During the latter part of the westerly monsoon, on that part of the coast between Cape Villaret and Point Swan, we found the weather remarkably fine, with the exception of an occasional short, but severe squall, from the eastward. During the day there was generally a moderate seabreeze between North-West and South-West commencing in the forenoon, and lasting sometimes nearly until midnight–on which occasions it blew strongest during the night); during the other part of the twenty-four hours the wind was light from the eastward or calm. Captain King experienced similar weather in August.
It was not until we had reached Point Swan, in latitude 16 degrees 20 minutes South that we experienced any of the bad weather that is usually met with, at this season of the year, a few degrees to the northward; it commenced in the last week of January, and continued until the middle of February, during which period, there were some strong gales from the westward, between North-West and South-West accompanied by heavy rain, thunder and lightning; but although there was a good deal of dirty weather, it was by no means constant, as there were occasional intervals of fine weather, with moderate westerly winds. This was the only bad weather on this part of the coast, during the season, that could be said to be caused by the westerly monsoon, if we except the East-South-East squalls, that do not occur in the easterly monsoon.
While this weather lasted, the easterly squalls were quite suspended, and the heavy bank of clouds that had generally been noticed in the South-East had dispersed for the time; but after the strong westerly winds had ceased, the weather was generally fine, and the wind mostly from some western point; there were occasional showers, and the clouds in the eastern horizon resumed their threatening appearance, bringing some hard squalls, and rain from that quarter. In the middle of March (being the time when equinoctial gales are looked for in most parts of the world) there were two or three days of squally, unsettled weather, with rain, that seemed to terminate the season of the westerly monsoon. After the 1st of April, the weather was invariably fine, and the easterly squalls had ceased to trouble us; land and seabreezes became regular, and the easterly monsoon had no doubt set in to the northward; the strongest breezes now were from South-East but, generally speaking, the winds were very light near the land.
It does not appear that the westerly monsoon blows with any degree of regularity, to the southward of the 13th degree of south latitude; although for some degrees south of that, the weather is influenced by it, and winds between West-North-West and South-West will be experienced, and from the appearances on many parts of the coast, there are no doubt strong gales at times from the westward, that send in a very heavy sea. During the easterly monsoon, the weather is fine on the North-West coast, particularly in the months of May, June, July, and August; this is undoubtedly the best time for visiting it; land and seabreezes are regular, and the temperature is very agreeable.
The average range of the thermometer on that part of the coast, between the North-West Cape, and the meridian of 120 degrees east longitude, during the above-mentioned period, was between 75 degrees in the middle of the day, and 60 degrees at night, on board the ship, and the general course of the wind as follows, viz.
About sunrise, or sometimes a little before that, a breeze springs up between South and South-South-East and draws to the eastward as the sun rises, rapidly increasing in strength, and between 8 and 11 A.M. often blows a fiery breeze; towards noon it moderates, and rarely lasts until 2 P.M., after which there is a light breeze from North-East which at times reaches to north; the nights are mostly calm, or a light breeze from the south-westward; at the full and change of the moon, we found the south-easterly winds stronger than at other times; dews at times very copious.
All this part of the coast is subject to the effects of mirage, by which its outline is at times very much distorted, but generally speaking it ceases with the strength of the breeze, and as the sun attains a little altitude. When the effects of mirage was observed in the morning, I noticed that the winds were much lighter throughout the day, than usual.
During this part of the year, the atmosphere is clear, with a cloudless sky, and the coast is exempted from the violent East-South-East squalls, that are of frequent occurrence, while the sun is in the southern hemisphere, and the land consequently very much heated.
Towards the latter end of August, and in September, the winds are not quite so regular, and there are occasional intervals of two or three days of westerly winds.
That part of the North-West coast between the North-West Cape, and the 116th degree of east longitude, seems to be subject to westerly winds at all times of the year. The prevailing southerly winds that blow along the west coast, appear to draw round the Cape, and follow the direction of the land. Between April and October (when the easterly monsoon is blowing to the northward) they are generally to the southward of west, or between that point and South-West, but during the westerly monsoon between West and North-West.
Upon getting to the westward of the North-West Cape, the wind becomes more southerly, and draws to the eastward of south as the distance from the land increases, and will be found varying between South-South-East and East-South-East, generally speaking as far south as the parallel of 30 degrees of south latitude, after which it is mostly to the westward of south, so that ships making a passage to the southward, along the west coast of New Holland, will rarely be able to make any easting, before reaching that latitude, particularly during the summer months. In the winter a ship may occasionally make a quick passage to the southward, if happening to be upon the coast during a northerly gale; and as all these gales are preceded by North-East winds, a sufficient offing may be gained to enable her to run on, when the wind gets to the southward of west.
…
ON THE NORTH COAST OF AUSTRALIA.
That part of the coast of New Holland from Cape York to Cape Van Diemen, and extending as far south as the parallel of 12 degrees south latitude, may be said to be within the limit of the east and west monsoons, as at a short distance from the coast, these periodical winds will be found to blow with great regularity.
Near the land, the easterly monsoon sets in between the 1st and middle of April, and the westerly monsoon in October, and sometimes not until November. At a distance from the land they are probably more regular, as the changes of the monsoons are said to take place about the first week in April and October.
In the month of July, we found the winds between Booby Island and Port Essington, fresh from the eastward, veering at times to East-South-East and occasionally to South-East but rarely to the northward of east. Close to the land these winds are not so constant, but take more the character of land and seabreezes, and the nights are mostly calm; this we found to be the case during part of the months of July and August, while at anchor in Port Essington. The general course of the winds during that period was as follows. A little before sunrise, a breeze sprang up from South or South-South-East which gradually became more easterly as the sun approached the meridian; sometimes in the middle of the day, it was light from the eastward, or calm, and at other times veered gradually to North-East, from which quarter there came a fresh seabreeze every afternoon; this breeze lasted until sunset, and at times later, but the nights were always calm.
We experienced similar winds between Melville Island and Port Essington, but being a short distance from the land, the nights were not calm, although the winds were very light.
During the easterly monsoon, it is difficult to get to the eastward, as at a few miles from the land the current is always running to the westward, and runs strong past the projecting points; but by contriving to be near the land at daylight, at which time the wind is always more southerly, something may be gained.
At Port Essington, the rainy season can scarcely be said to set in before the middle of November; there is then, squally, dirty weather, with rain from the westward and North-West, and at this season, there are at times heavy squalls from South-East accompanied by rain, thunder, and lightning.
In 1838, the westerly monsoon set in at Port Essington, in the first week in November; there had been no rain before that.
THE END.