[THE AUSTRALIAN EXPLORERS.]
[INTRODUCTION: PIONEER NAVIGATORS.]
The eastern coast of New Holland, as Australia was then called, was discovered by Captain Cook, while engaged in the first of his voyages round the world. Leaving Cape Farewell, in New Zealand, on the 13th of March, 1770, and steering a north-westerly course, on the 18th of April he found the new continent rise into view in one of its south-eastern headlands, which was then named Point Hicks, but is now known as Cape Conran, and reckoned within the territory of Victoria. Henceforward the Endeavour was navigated along the coast to its most northern limit. In these southern waters no practicable landing-place was observed till Botany Bay was reached. Here the good ship came to anchor, and nearly a week was passed amidst the strangest sights and scenes. This brief interlude being over, the northern voyage was resumed in quest of further discoveries. Scarcely had the Botany Heads faded from the view when another large inlet was sighted from the deck of the vessel, but, unhappily, not visited. The point of observation being miserably inadequate, the great navigator was all unconscious of his being abreast of the finest harbour of the world, and having given it the name of Port Jackson, in honour of a distinguished English friend, held on his course without pause or delay. For a while all went well with the navigator, but in an hour when no danger was expected a cry of "breakers ahead" brought to everyone on board a sense of extreme peril. By dint of the captain's superior seamanship, and his perfect command over the crew, the ship was turned from the rocks in a critical moment, and the expedition rescued from a disastrous termination. The locality of this threatened calamity was marked by a projection of the land, overhung by a conspicuous hill, to which Cook gave the respective names of Point Danger and Mount Warning, positions which the reader will recognize as now forming the coastal boundary between New South Wales and Queensland. But the Endeavour was not to finish her voyage without making a still closer acquaintance with misfortune. Having unconsciously approached a hidden danger in the far north, she landed bodily on a reef, and sustained most serious damage. It was only after the sacrifice of much valuable cargo that she could be floated, and then it taxed all the skill of the captain and the utmost energies of his crew to bring her to the nearest anchorage. The port of safety, reached with so much difficulty, proved to be the mouth of a small river, which has since borne the name of the Endeavour. The repair of the crazy vessel occupied a period of six weeks, during which "Jack ashore" enjoyed rather exciting holidays, making his first acquaintance with the kangaroo and other grotesque oddities of the Australian fauna. Having again put to sea, only one stage more remained, and this over, the great navigator reached Cape York, the extreme northern limit of this new territory. Cook succeeded in his object to a degree that must have surpassed his most sanguine anticipations, and now took care that his labours should not be in vain, but redound to the benefit of his country. All that was wanting was a declaration of ownership, and this he accordingly made on the spot: "As I am now about to quit the eastern coast of New Holland, which I have coasted from 38° latitude to this place, and which I am confident no European has ever seen before, I once more hoist the English colours (although I have already taken possession of the whole eastern coast by the name of New South Wales, from its great similarity to that part of the principality of Wales), in the right of my sovereign, George III., King of Great Britain."
This welcome gift fell into the hands of the nation in a time of need. Transportation to Virginia having come to an end through the revolt of the American colonies, the English gaols were being filled to overflow with criminals, and a new outlet was imperatively required. Somewhere in the world a place had to be found for a penal settlement. The publication of Cook's discoveries came in the nick of time, and delivered the Government from embarrassment. It was resolved accordingly to establish a crown colony at Botany Bay, which had been fully and only too favourably described by the circumnavigator. On the 18th of March, 1787, a fleet consisting of eleven ships, carrying 757 convicts and 200 soldiers, was despatched under the command of Captain Phillip, a retired military officer. The voyage being somewhat circuitous, its destination was not reached till the 18th of January following. Less than a week sufficed to show that Cook's picture of Botany had more of colour than correctness. The shores were found to be shallow, the roadstead exposed, and the adjacent land ill suited to the purpose in view. Without loss of time, the Governor, with his assistants, proceeded to examine the capabilities of Port Jackson, which had been cursorily seen at a distance by Cook and dismissed in a single sentence of his otherwise copious narrative. The exploration issued in unmeasured satisfaction and surprise. The party returned to the encampment with the tidings of a harbour with a hundred coves, on the ample bosom of which all the navies of Europe might ride at anchor. Orders to decamp were issued forthwith, and the removal of the nascent colony was the work of but a day or two. The spot selected for the permanent home is contiguous to the modern Circular Quay, and was recommended for acceptance by a clear and limpid stream that glided on its course underneath the indigenous copse. The infant colony had its baptism of hardship, but was able to survive the struggle for existence. The inauguration took place on the 7th of February, 1788, when the settlement was formally proclaimed a crown colony, in circumstances of no small state and ceremony.
The passion for discovery soon took possession of the new arrivals, and the adventurous Governor placed himself in the front of this enterprise. To us who live in times when Australia has ceased to be an unknown land, their efforts in this direction may appear to have been small and the results insignificant, but it should not be forgotten that the horizon was at that time the limit of discovery, even in meagre outline, whilst an accurate survey had scarcely proceeded a couple of miles beyond the settlement. On the 2nd of May the Governor and party sailed off in the long-boat for the purpose of exploring Broken Bay, which had been seen and named by Captain Cook, but not entered. It proved to be the entrance to a large river, expanding to an immense width, and abounding in exquisite natural scenery. Having crossed the bar, three distinct divisions of Broken Bay were explored, and to the last of which they gave the name of Pitt Water, in honour of the far-famed English premier. Next year this success was followed up with the exploration of the river (the Hawkesbury) which here enters the sea. Large tracts of rich alluvial land were found on both sides. In a short time hence these fertile flats became the homes of an industrious agricultural population, who frequently saved Sydney from the horrors of famine. This voyage of discovery was continued as far as Richmond Hill (the Kurrajong), from which position the chasm in the mountains was distinctly seen, and the sentries which guard its entrance named the Carmarthen and Lansdown Hills.
It was the exploration of the coast-line, however, that principally engaged the attention of the infant colony, and for this work two men of rare ability stepped to the front. In 1795, just seven years after the foundation of the colony, Captain Hunter, having been appointed Governor in succession to Captain Phillip, arrived in Port Jackson with the Reliance and the Supply, bringing George Bass as surgeon and Matthew Flinders in the capacity of midshipman. These adventurous and truly kindred spirits lost no time in girding themselves up for the work of discovery. They had been barely a month in the country when the colonists saw them start on their first expedition. Taking only a boy for general service, and embarking in a boat not more than eight feet long—very suitably named the Tom Thumb—they sailed round to Botany Bay, thence up George's River, which was now explored for 20 miles beyond what was previously known. The results were, the opening up of much available land and the commencement of a new settlement under the name of Bankstown, which is still retained. But the success attending this adventure was eclipsed by next year's discoveries, which were achieved under similar difficulties. The tiny Tom Thumb, with its crew of three all told, again left Port Jackson for the purpose of examining a large river which was supposed to enter the ocean to the south of Botany Bay. Having stood out to sea in order to catch the current, the voyagers unwittingly passed the object of their search and were carried far southward. Bad weather now supervened; the little craft was tossed like a cork on the billows, and finally beached in a heavy surf with the loss of many valuables on board. Being now in want of water, the party were compelled to leave the rock-bound coast and steer still further south, in the hope of finding a more favourable locality. Eventually they cast anchor about two miles beyond the present town of Wollongong, in an inlet which, in commemoration of this incident, still bears the name of the Tom Thumb Lagoon. The blacks, it was ascertained, called the district Allourie, which has, doubtless, been transformed into the more euphonious Illawarra. On the homeward voyage Bass and Flinders made a seasonable discovery of a snug little shelter, which they called Providential Cove, but which is now generally known by the native name, Wattamolla. About four miles further north they were fortunate at last in hitting upon the real object of their search. It proved to be a large sheet of water stretching several miles inland, and presented the appearance of a port rather than a river. The natives spoke of it as "Deeban," but it is now called Port Hacking, it is believed in acknowledgment of the services of a pilot of that name. Having accomplished far more than the object they had in view, the daring seamen returned to Sydney Cove, after passing through a succession of perils and privations which give to their narrative the character, not of sober history, but of wild romance.
The next important expedition was carried out under the sole conduct of Bass. On his own petition the Governor furnished him with a whale-boat, carrying a crew of six seamen and provided with supplies for six weeks only. With so slender an equipment this born adventurer sailed from Port Jackson on a voyage of 600 miles, along a little-known and possibly perilous coast. One lovely summer evening, which happened to be the 3rd of December, 1797, the little whaler with its stout-hearted crew bore round the South Head, and bravely turned its prow towards its unknown destination. Scarcely had the familiar landmarks dropped out of sight when the elements engaged in tempestuous fury, and the storm drove the adventurers to seek shelter first at Port Hacking, next at Wattamolla, and again near Cook's Red Point, on the Illawarra coast. The headland, under the lee of which the vessel took refuge, stands a little to the south of Lake Illawarra, and still bears the name of Bass' Point. Not long after the voyage was resumed he discovered the embouchure of a river in an inferior harbour, which he called Shoalhaven, believing it deserved no better name. Jervis Bay was next entered, but this was no discovery, for it had been previously explored by Lieutenant Bowen, whose name is still preserved in an island lying near the entrance. Bass, however, had the good luck to discover Twofold Bay—a scene of never-failing beauty, and a place of importance in our early history. Passing rapidly southward he rounded Cape Howe, and first noticed the Long Beach, but was unable to identify Point Hicks. He was now 300 miles from Sydney, and whatever remained of the voyage was along an absolutely unknown coast. Some important discoveries were made at various points, but the most valuable portion of his labours was the exploration of Western Port. Here he remained thirteen days, during which this commodious harbour was carefully examined and fully described. A leading object of the voyage had been to settle the question of the suspected insularity of Van Diemen's Land. Bass had really solved the problem without knowing it, for he had passed through the strait which now bears his name. That it was detached from the continent his own bearings rendered almost a certainty. To do more was impossible in the circumstances. He had already been seven weeks from Sydney, which had been left with only six weeks' provisions. These, though eked out by an occasional supply of fish and fowl, were nearly exhausted, and the homeward voyage was made on the shortest course. During an absence of eleven weeks he had examined the coast for 600 miles south of Port Jackson, the latter half of which had been utterly unknown up to the time of this expedition.
There still remains for review another memorable voyage of discovery, undertaken by Bass and Flinders conjointly in the year 1798. The object of this expedition was to demonstrate the existence of the probable strait and the consequent insularity of Van Diemen's land; and the way it was proposed to accomplish this double object was to sail through the channel and circumnavigate the island. Bent on this adventure Bass and Flinders left Sydney Cove on the 7th October, in the Norfolk, a good sea-going sloop of 25 tons burthen. The run over the known waters was made purposely in haste, because the time was limited. Their cruise in the channel disclosed a large number of islands, the haunts of myriads of sea-fowl, particularly the sooty petrel, which, though far from savoury, served as an article of food. This strange bird was found, like the rabbit, to burrow in the ground, where it was easily captured in the evening. Flinders says it was simply necessary to thrust in the whole length of the arm into the hole, whence one would be almost certain to bring out a petrel—or a snake. The alternative was not a pleasant one, but the commander had to husband up the provisions and the sailors were not unwilling to run the risk. The circumnavigation of Van Diemen's Land (Tasmania) commenced at the northern point, known as Cape Portland. Nothing specially remarkable occurred till a point was reached which they named Low Head, immediately after which the Norfolk entered an arm of the sea more than a mile in width. This appeared to be a discovery of sufficient importance to devote sixteen days to its exploration. It proved to be the embouchure of what is now known as the River Tamar, on which Launceston, the second town of the island, is built. The discoverers sailed up the estuary, following its course for many miles inland. It was found to be alive with aquatic fowls, particularly black swans, sometimes numbering 500 in a flock. This unexpected diversion proved rich sport, and afforded a pleasant interlude to the monotony of life at sea. But the expedition was not for play, but work, and the ship was again upon her course. After a short sail to the westward they found themselves rounding the north-west cape, and with glad hearts could perceive the shore trending away for many a league to the south. The problem was already virtually solved. "Mr. Bass and myself," says Flinders, "hailed it with joy and mutual congratulation, as announcing the completion of our long-wished-for discovery of a passage into the southern Indian Ocean." This fortunate issue of their labours marked an epoch both in the history of discovery and the progress of international commerce. The circuitous route round the south of Van Diemen's Land could henceforth be avoided, and in our day the intervening strait has become the ordinary highway for the Australian trade. It being still deemed advisable to carry out the instructions to the letter, the circumnavigation of the island was prosecuted with varying interest. In the southern parts some valuable discoveries were made, and errors of previous observers corrected. In consequence of unfavourable weather the run along the eastern coast was made for the most part out of sight of land, but on the 6th of January it was found they had completely rounded Van Diemen's Land, and so brought their work to an end. The time allotted for the expedition having also expired, the heroic navigators returned to Sydney, bringing the welcome intelligence that doubt was no longer possible concerning the insularity of Tasmania, and the practicability of the intervening channel as a highway of commerce. The merit of this latter discovery is almost equally due to both navigators, but with a generosity which reflects credit, and is as noble as it is rare, Flinders prevailed on Governor Hunter to call it Bass' Strait.
What had now been done for the island of Van Diemen's Land by Bass and Flinders conjointly was next to be achieved for the continent of Australia by Flinders single-handed. Before his time much had been done in enterprises of discovery on numerous and distant parts of the coast by various commanders and by different nations; but as these efforts had been conducted under no comprehensive plan, there was no continuous line of exploration, and accordingly the discoveries hitherto made were known only as disjecta membra, lying at wide intervals in the Southern Ocean; but whether they were the extremities of one and the same continent, or a cluster of sporadic islands, there was not yet sufficient evidence to show. To settle this question was the true mission of Matthew Flinders, and the method he adopted was to circumnavigate the whole territory, keeping so near the land as to have his eye on the raging surf, except when the darkness of the night and the wildness of the weather rendered this purpose impracticable. On the very day of his death the printing-press issued a record of his labours in a couple of goodly quartos entitled "A Voyage to Terra Australis." This name was proposed for the new country as a fair and likely means of overcoming an acknowledged difficulty. The Dutch had long ago discovered the western coast and called the country New Holland, whereas the English, having performed a similar service for the eastern side, gave the name of New South Wales to this and the parts adjacent. Herein lay the difficulty; to call the whole continent New Holland seemed unfair to the English, whilst it appeared equally unjust to the Dutch to give the entire country the name of New South Wales. Flinders thought Terra Australis would be a reasonable compromise, but added, in an all-important footnote—"Had I permitted myself any innovation upon the original term, it would have been to convert it into AUSTRALIA, as being more agreeable to the ear and an assimilation to the other great portions of the earth." The suggestion was a most fortunate one, in spite of the innovation, and the remark shows that, among other and greater obligations, we are indebted to this navigator for the name of our country.