From Normanton a number of carriers are employed to carry goods to Cloncurry and the many stations trading therewith. Many teams are found carrying loading by the side of the railway line to Georgetown and the Etheridge past Croydon, ignoring the services of the railway. A punt service connects the town with the carrier’s camp on the opposite side of the river, where loading starts for the Etheridge. The carrier’s waggon is loaded fully up to its carrying capacity of from six to seven tons, and is drawn on to the punt by the team; on its arrival on the opposite side, the team draws the load on to the bank ready to depart on its journey. The country to Georgetown is generally of an inferior description. Towards the Cloncurry (southwards) for the first twenty miles, the road passes through timbered country, bloodwood and messmate of a poor class, then it opens out after passing Reaphook Range into open treeless plains and black soil, with excellent pasturage, and this extends for hundreds of miles to the interior, the whole of which is occupied by cattle and sheep stations that draw their supplies from Normanton up to a certain point, when the trade is induced by special arrangements of rebates on traffic rates, to diverge to Townsville, at the expense of the Gulf ports.
About the same time that Townsville was opened as a port in order to meet the requirements of the new movements in stock on the country surrounding the Gulf, Burketown commenced its rather chequered career as a commercial port in 1865.
The first supplies were brought by the “Jacmel Packet,” chartered and loaded by R. Towns and Co., from Sydney. She was the second vessel in the Albert River, the first being the brig “Firefly,” in which Mr. Landsborough brought his horses, which were landed a mile below the site of the town. The old vessel afterwards went to pieces in the river. The manifest of the “Jacmel Packet” was perhaps the most varied and strangely assorted that a trading vessel ever carried; the general cargo included pigs, dogs, fowls, houses, building materials, outfits of every kind, drays, rations, rum, and other spirits. In such fashion was the mercantile trade of Carpentaria commenced. On the opening of the goods, a saturnalia ensued, and the times were lively. The overlanders having money to spend, and not having indulged in a “spree” for years, took advantage of the absence of all control, and thoroughly enjoyed themselves in bush fashion; a fight every half hour, horse racing on the plain, or in “the street” as it was called, and strong rum for everyone. Other vessels quickly followed the first venture with more supplies. One of them, the “Gazelle,” from Sydney, made a very quick trip of sixteen days to the mouth of the river, where she broke her back on a sandbank; the hulk was towed up the river, and gradually mouldered away just opposite the town. In 1866 the first wool was shipped to Sydney from the Gulf; the first load of wool taken into Burketown being from Conobie station, shorn in November, 1865, on the Cloncurry, about 200 miles distant. The assistance the first settlers received from the Government amounted to little or nothing; the administration situated nearly two thousand miles away, had little care or thought for the struggling outsiders in the far-away Gulf country. The settlers had to protect themselves from blacks as well as from whites, and as it was some years before Burketown was made a port of entry, goods had to be cleared at Brisbane before sailing for Burketown. When the port was opened, the Customs Officer, Mr. Sandrock, was kept at Sweer’s Island, where supplies had to be cleared before going on to the mainland. This meant a great loss of time to those who brought in teams for loading. All departmental work had to be done in Brisbane, and there also the first applications for runs and declarations of stocking had to be made.
The tide of settlement had been too swift and too strong for the authorities to keep pace with, and although a Land Commissioner, in the person of Mr. J. P. Sharkey was sent out in 1866, and the Government were represented the same year by Mr. W. Landsborough in Burketown, the fact was evident that people were pretty well left to do as they liked. Burketown in 1866, and for the two or three following years, made some little progress, or appeared to do so. The drovers and shepherds, paid off after long trips with stock, had good cheques to spend, and their money was laid out in the lavish way peculiar to the old bush hand. Wages were high for all sorts of employment, 35s. to 45s. a week being the lowest. Everything was dear in the new town, but that made little difference to men who had not been in a town for years and had money to spare.
One of the first vessels to arrive in the Albert River in 1866 was the “Margaret and Mary.” She was said to have touched at some infected port in Java, and after arrival a fatal sickness broke out in Burketown that nearly carried off all the population. All hands that came in the ship died except the captain, his wife also falling a victim. A new crew had to be engaged to work the vessel before she could get away. There is little doubt but that the great mortality among the residents of Burketown during 1866 was traceable to the infection brought by this vessel. It was the wet season at the time, and this, in conjunction with the reckless life led by most of the people, and the want of medical assistance, increased the danger of the disease, and scores of strong men succumbed to its malign influence.
It would be difficult to say how many men fell victims to the epidemic, but there must have been at least a hundred, besides those who died on the surrounding stations. The disease, which ended in fever and delirium, was as fatal to the strong as to the weak, and the little cemetery soon looked like that of an old established town, so numerous were the graves. This outbreak gave Burketown an evil name. People began to leave it, and when Normanton was opened in 1867 with the prospect of becoming a more suitable port for the district, many removed there to carry on their business. Shortly after this, Burketown was absolutely deserted, not a living soul remained, and nothing was left to mark the spot except heaps of empty bottles and jam tins, and some large iron pots belonging to a boiling-down plant. A few stumps remained standing on the open plains where once had been buildings. The hulls of the “Gazelle” and “Firefly” lay falling to pieces in the river, and none were left to sigh over Burketown’s fallen fortunes, or sing a dirge in memory of its history; its short and merry life was over, and none lamented.
In these early days, Sweer’s Island was a kind of marine suburb belonging to Burketown, a sanatorium about thirty-five miles from the mouth of the Albert, where the fever-stricken people were taken to recover. Mr. W. Landsborough, the Police Magistrate, or Government resident, lived there with his family. Mr. J. P. Sharkey, the first Land Commissioner, and Mr. Ellis Read, in charge of R. Towns and Co.’s stores, also resided on the island. Life was much pleasanter there than on the dead plains surrounding Burketown, and the sea breezes were constant and refreshing. On Sweer’s Island, which is only about nine miles long, and from half a mile to three miles in width, vegetables and watermelons grow in profusion. A township was surveyed called Carnarvon, after the Earl of Carnarvon, allotments were sold and buildings erected. The first Customs House in the Gulf was here, and Mr. Sandrock was the first officer. The soil on Sweer’s Island is sandy, and the grass thick in places. The turtle ponds made there by Captain Norman of the “Victoria” in 1861-2, were still to be seen in 1866, as also was the well sunk by Flinders in 1803, from which fresh water was still obtainable. Opposite the island, towards the west, lay Bentinck Island, much larger than Sweer’s, though unoccupied, except by the natives, whose fires could be seen every evening after dark. About forty miles north-east of Sweer’s Island is Bountiful Island, noted for its oysters, and also for turtles, large numbers resorting there at certain seasons. Sweer’s Island has been deserted for many years, and is no longer a health resort. The buildings are gone, and the people also. The only residents now (1897), are a family of the name of Creffield, who keep some cattle, goats and sheep on the island.