About one o'clock, a breeze sprung up at east, which afterwards came to N.E. and we steered along the shore S. by E. and S.S.E. having from twenty-five to eighteen fathom.
At about half an hour after seven in the evening, having run seven or eight leagues since noon, I anchored in twenty-three fathom, not causing to run any farther in the dark, as I had now land on both sides, forming the entrance of a strait, bay, or river, lying S. by E. for on that point we could see no land.
At day-break, on the 19th, the wind being still favourable, we weighed and stood with an easy sail up the inlet, keeping nearest to the east side. In a short time, two large canoes came off to us from the shore; the people on board said, that they knew Toiava very well, and called Tupia by his name. I invited some of them on board; and as they knew they had nothing to fear from us, while they behaved honestly and peaceably, they immediately complied: I made each of them some presents, and dismissed them much gratified. Other canoes afterwards came up to us from a different side of the bay; and the people on board of these also mentioned the name of Toiava, and sent a young man into the ship, who told us he was his grandson, and he also was dismissed with a present.
After having run about five leagues from the place where we had anchored the night before, our depth of water gradually decreased to six fathom; and not chusing to go into less, as it was tide of flood, and the wind blew right up the inlet, I came to an anchor about the middle of the channel, which is near eleven miles over; after which I sent two boats out to sound, one on one side, and the other on the other.
The boats not having found above three feet more water than we were now in, I determined to go no farther with the ship, but to examine the head of the bay in the boats; for, as it appeared to run a good way inland, I thought this a favourable opportunity to examine the interior part of the country, and its produce.
At day-break, therefore, I set out in the pinnace and long-boat, accompanied by Mr Banks, Dr Solander, and Tupia; and we found the inlet end in a river, about nine miles above the ship: Into this river we entered with the first of the flood, and within three miles found the water perfectly fresh. Before we had proceeded more than one third of that distance, we found an Indian town, which was built upon a small bank of dry sand, but entirely surrounded by a deep mud, which possibly the inhabitants might consider as a defence. These people, as soon as they saw us, thronged to the banks, and invited us on shore. We accepted the invitation; and made them a visit notwithstanding the mud. They received us with open arms, having heard of us from our good old friend Toiava; but our stay could not be long, as we had other objects of curiosity in view. We proceeded up the river till near noon, when we were fourteen miles within its entrance; and then, finding the face of the country to continue nearly the same, without any alteration in the course of the stream, which we had no hope of tracing to its source, we landed on the west side, to take a view of the lofty trees which every where adorned its banks. They were of a kind that we had seen before, though only at a distance, both in Poverty Bay and Hawke's Bay. Before we had walked an hundred yards into the wood, we met with one of them which was nineteen feet eight inches in the girt, at the height of six feet above the ground: Having a quadrant with me, I measured its height from the root to the first branch, and found it to be eighty-nine feet: It was as straight as an arrow, and tapered but very little in proportion to its height; so that I judged there were three hundred and fifty-six feet of solid timber in it, exclusive of the branches. As we advanced, we saw many others that were still larger; we cut down a young one, and the wood proved heavy and solid, not fit for masts, but such as would make the finest plank in the world. Our carpenter, who was with us, said that the timber resembled that of the pitch-pine, which is lightened by tapping; and possibly some such method might be found to lighten these, and they would then be such masts as no country in Europe can produce. As the wood was swampy, we could not range far; but we found many stout trees of other kinds, all of them utterly unknown to us, specimens of which we brought away.
The river at this height is as broad as the Thames at Greenwich, and the tide of flood as strong; it is not indeed quite so deep, but has water enough for vessels of more than a middle size, and a bottom of mud, so soft that nothing could take damage by running ashore.
About three o'clock, we reimbarked, in order to return with the first of the ebb, and named the river the Thames, it having some resemblance to our own river of that name. In our return, the inhabitants of the village where we had been ashore, seeing us take another channel, came off to us in their canoes, and trafficked with us in the most friendly manner, till they had disposed of the few trifles they had. The tide of ebb just carried us out of the narrow part of the river, into the channel that run up from the sea, before it was dark; and we pulled hard to reach the ship, but meeting the flood, and a strong breeze at N.N.W. with showers of rain, we were obliged to desist; and about midnight, we run under the land, and came to a grappling, where we took such rest as our situation would admit. At break of day, we set forward again, and it was past seven o'clock before we reached the ship. We were all extremely tired, but thought ourselves happy to be on board; for before nine it blew so hard that the boat could not have rowed ahead, and must therefore either have gone ashore, or taken shelter under it.
About three o'clock, having the tide of ebb, we took up our anchor, made sail, and plied down the river till eight in the evening, when we came to an anchor again: Early in the morning we made sail with the first ebb, and kept plying till the flood of tide obliged us once more to come to an anchor. As we had now only a light breeze, I went in the pinnace, accompanied by Dr Solander, to the western shore, but I saw nothing worthy of notice.
When I left the ship, many canoes were about it; Mr Banks therefore chose to stay on board, and traffic with the natives: They bartered their clothes and arms, chiefly for paper, and behaved with great friendship and honesty. But while some of them were below with Mr Banks, a young man who was upon the deck stole a half minute glass which was in the binnacle, and was detected just as he was carrying it off. Mr Hicks, who was commanding officer on board, took it into his head to punish him, by giving him twelve lashes with a cat-o'-nine-tails; and accordingly ordered him to be taken to the gang-way, and tied up to the shrouds. When the other Indians who were on board saw him seized, they attempted to rescue him; and being resisted, called for their arms, which were handed up from the canoes, and the people of one of them attempted to come up the ship's side. The tumult was heard by Mr Banks, who, with Tupia, came hastily upon the deck to see what had happened. The Indians immediately ran to Tupia, who, finding Mr Hicks inexorable, could only assure them, that nothing was intended against the life of their companion; but that it was necessary he should suffer some punishment for his offence, which being explained to them, they seemed to be satisfied. The punishment was then inflicted, and as soon as the criminal was unbound, an old man among the spectators, who was supposed to be his father, gave him a hearty beating, and sent him down into his canoe. All the canoes then dropped astern, and the people said that they were afraid to come any more near the ship: After much persuasion, however, they ventured back again, but their cheerful confidence was at an end, and their stay was short; they promised indeed, at their departure, to return with some fish, but we saw no more of them.