Narrative of a Survey of the Intertropical and Western Coasts of Australia — Vol. 1 / Performed between the years 1818 and 1822

by Philip Parker King

During the absence of the boat, Mr. Bedwell landed abreast the anchorage, and walked a mile inland to one of the salt marshes. On his way, he passed several ant-hills of the same description as those seen by us at the Bay of Rest. The coast is here protected from inroads of the sea by a barrier of sand dunes, from ten to twenty feet high, on which were growing a variety of plants, particularly a species of convolvulus, which, from the great size and length of its stem, being an inch in diameter and extending along the beach for more than thirty yards, is very conspicuous. Behind these dunes the country is flat, and in most parts below the level of the sea; so that when the tides rise high enough to pass over the breaks in the dunes, the country is inundated, when, by the intense heat of the sun, the water is very speedily evaporated, and a salt incrustation, to a great extent, is formed upon the plains. At the distance of four or five miles from the beach, a small range of rocky hills, apparently destitute of vegetation, formed a boundary to the view. The shore is lined by a barrier of sharp rocks, covered with species of ostrea and nerita, but although these were the only living testaceous animals that were found, the beach was covered with a multitude of dead and imperfect shells of various species.

In the evening, after our return from the river, the weather clouded, but afterwards cleared up with a change of wind from the South-East, which, from its heat, and from the listless sensations it caused, resembled the hot land-wind of Port Jackson: this seems to afford additional ground for the hypothesis that the interior of this immense island is occupied by vast sandy deserts.

February 22.

On leaving this anchorage it was low water, when the depth was only six inches more than the vessel's draught; but the bottom being of mud, it deepened inch by inch, until we reached four, five, and six fathoms; and upon this depth we sailed the whole day, passing through a cluster, or rather range of sandy islets. In the evening we anchored under one of larger size than usual, about four miles from the mainland, the shores of which had been traced during the day, without losing sight of any part of it; it was still low, and bounded either by dunes of sand, or an impervious forest of mangroves, beyond which no part of the interior could be seen.

February 23.

The following day was spent in examining a bight, but we were prevented from penetrating to the bottom by the shoalness of the water. We were, however, near enough to see large sheets of water over the mangrove belt that lined the shore, in which many openings were observed that communicated with it. Beyond the lakes was a range of rocky hills, that bounded our masthead view. The bight is fronted by a crowded range of sandy islets, from which we did not extricate ourselves until the next day.

Having passed out between two sandy islets, our course was held to the northward, outside of a range of islets, and parallel to the mainland; which was soon afterwards lost to view by trending to the eastward. At one o'clock we passed round a larger and a more elevated island, as well as of a more rocky character than those to the southward; and then steered to the eastward, towards the next projecting point of the main, named after my friend Richard Preston, Esquire, on our way to which we left a small island about one mile to the northward of our track. In the evening, we steered close round Cape Preston, but were disappointed in an attempt to find anchorage near it, from the rocky state of the bottom, so that the night was passed under sail, which, considering the number of low islets scattered about, was running a dangerous risk, and this was increased by encountering a severe squall of wind from the South-East, which blew so insufferably hot that the thermometer stood at 89 degrees, having been at 91 degrees all the previous day.

February 24.

The next morning it was calm and sultry; at ten o'clock we anchored near a small sandy isle in the centre of the bay, until the sea-breeze set in, which was taken immediate advantage of; and after weighing the course was directed towards a steep rocky head, forming the South-West point of an island, subsequently called Enderby Island, after a very old and valued friend. On our way we had to pass round a sandy islet and a rocky reef of considerable extent; after which we anchored off a sandy beach to the eastward of Rocky Head.

Soon after anchoring the sky became black and clouded over the land to the South-East, and assumed a very threatening appearance; heavy, dense clouds, in which streams of vivid forked lightning momentarily appeared, were rolling rapidly towards us, and made us fear a repetition of last night's storm; the stream-anchor, the only resource we had, was therefore dropped; and, with the topmast struck, we awaited the bursting of the storm with much anxiety, and just cause of alarm for the safety of the vessel: the clouds continued to roll towards us, but just as the storm was on the point of bursting, the clouds suddenly dispersed and in half an hour the night turned out as fine as it had threatened to be the reverse.