The great eastern bay now quitted had never been entered till this time; and as it is proved not to be Frederik Hendrik's, I have named it NORFOLK BAY. It is about eight miles long, north and south, and three to five miles broad from east to west. The largest fleet may find shelter here, with anchorage on a good bottom of 4 to 9 fathoms deep. We saw but one small stream of fresh water, and that was of difficult access; but it is scarcely probable that, amongst the many coves all around the bay, water convenient for ships should not be found. The country near the shore is rocky; but as the kangaroo seemed to be abundant, there are probably many grassy plains further inland. Wood abounds every where, except at Green Head, which is mostly covered with grass. Of the four islands in the bay, Smooth and Gull Islands were found superior in fertility to the main land: the first contains about forty acres of tolerable pasturage.
In North Bay, the upper part seemed to be circumscribed by a sandy beach, and to offer nothing of particular interest; we therefore steered downward, on Dec. 20, for the Derwent River; but rainy squalls coming on from the south, ran for a small beach on the western shore, and anchored off it in 2½ fathoms. A narrow inlet there, from which the tide issued with some strength, excited the hope of finding a short cut into the Derwent; but it proved, on examination, to terminate in a shoal lagoon. The country on its borders affords good pasturage, with some spots fit for cultivation; there is, also, fresh water on the north side, but only for domestic purposes. The lagoon is frequented by ducks, black shags, pelicans, and gannets.
Dec. 21, we proceeded round for the Derwent. On clearing North Bay, I went off in the boat to Betsey's Island, leaving Mr. Bass to conduct the sloop. This island is high, and accessible only towards its north end; its length is one mile, and mean breadth about half that quantity; the soil is fertile, and nourishes a luxuriant vegetation of grass and wood; and though the natives visit it occasionally, none of their traces were recent. On rejoining the sloop, I found she had passed between the island and two flat rocks near the main, with from 5 to 9 fathoms water; in which depths the gigantic sea-weed grows up to the surface. At eight clock we anchored in 9 fathoms, off Cape Direction, at the entrance of the river.
Dec. 22, a base was measured and bearings taken for a survey of the entrance, which proved to be near three miles wide. On the 23rd, the wind being fair, we ran upwards between shores which were sometimes steep, but generally of a gradual ascent, and well clothed with grass and wood. At nine miles from the entrance lies Sullivan Cove, on the west side, where a settlement has since been established by colonel Collins;* and here the width of the river is suddenly contracted, from one mile and a half to less than three-quarters of a mile, but the depth is not diminished. Four miles higher up we found Risdon Cove, and anchored there in 4 fathoms, with the intention of filling our empty water casks at the Risdon River of Mr. Hayes; but finding it to be a little creek which even our boat could not enter, I determined to seek a more convenient watering place higher up the Derwent.
[* The first settlement was made in Risdon Cove, in 1803, by captain John Bowen of the navy, who was sent from Port Jackson for that purpose, by his Excellency governor King; but on the arrival of colonel Collins in 1804, it was removed to Sullivan Cove.]
Dec. 24, the wind being adverse to proceeding upward, an extensive set of angles was taken from the top of Mount Direction; and next day, I carried the survey up the river, whilst Mr. Bass ascended the great Mount Table, on the western side. At the northern foot of this mount lie King George's Plains, a name given by Mr. Hayes to about three hundred acres of pasture land; and in the front of the plains is his Prince of Wales' Bay, a small shallow cove. Such names as these led us, at first, into some errors with respect to the importance of the places sought; but after the above examples, we were no longer deceived by them.
In the afternoon of the 25th, we got the sloop, with much difficulty, five or six miles further up the river, to an inlet which I called Herdsman's Cove, from the pastoral appearance of the surrounding country. Two streams fall into it; and up the principal one, in the north-east corner, I went two miles with the boat. The water was there found to be fresh, and the depth sufficient to allow of its being reached by the sloop; but the banks being steep and channel narrow, I was deterred from watering in this place, by the fear of detention from foul winds.
The width of the Derwent abreast of Herdsman's Cove is half a mile; but except a very narrow channel close to the eastern shore, it is too shallow even for boats. The intention of proceeding further with the sloop was therefore abandoned; but so soon as the rainy, blowing weather permitted, which was not until the 28th, I accompanied Mr. Bass in a boat excursion up the river. Three miles above Herdsman's Cove the banks open out to a mile in width; the river, from running north-westward, turns to the south-west; and the deep channel makes a short cut across to the convex bank, leaving the mud to collect in the opposite elbow. A great deal of long, aquatic grass growing upon these mud flats, seemed to have attracted the black swans, for the number collected there was not estimated at less than five hundred.
The width of the Derwent is contracted in the south-west reach to little more than a quarter of a mile, and we had not rowed far up it before the water became perfectly fresh. The land on both sides rises to hills of moderate elevation, and the rather steep acclivities being well clothed with verdure, they had an agreeable appearance. Our attention was suddenly called from contemplating the country, by the sound of a human voice coming from the hills. There were three people; and as they would not comply with our signs to come down, we landed and went up to them, taking with us a black swan. Two women ran off, but a man, who had two or three spears in his hand, stayed to receive us, and accepted the swan with rapture. He seemed entirely ignorant of muskets, nor did any thing excite his attention or desire except the swan and the red kerchiefs about our necks; he knew, however, that we came from the sloop, and where it was lying. A little knowledge of the Port Jackson, and of the South-Sea-Island languages was of no use in making ourselves understood by this man; but the quickness with which he comprehended our signs spoke in favour of his intelligence. His appearance much resembled that of the inhabitants of New South Wales; he had also marks raised upon the skin, and his face was blackened and hair ruddled as is sometimes practised by them. The hair was either close cropped, or naturally short; but it had not the appearance of being woolly. He acceded to our proposition of going to his hut; but finding from his devious route and frequent stoppages, that he sought to tire our patience, we left him delighted with the certain possession of his swan, and returned to the boat. This was the sole opportunity we had of communicating with any of the natives of Van Diemen's Land.
At one o'clock, when advanced five miles above the elbow, the ebb tide made; and the wind being unfavourable, we landed to dine. The general course of the river had been nearly south-west; but it there turned west-by-north. The width, found by extending a base line, was two hundred and thirty yards, and the depth, as it had generally been in the channel from Herdsman's Cove, was 3 fathoms; but in some parts there may not be more than 2, at low water.