[CHAPTER XVI.]
The Yacht "Wanderer."
"She walks the waters like a thing of life,
And seems to dare the elements to strife."
—Byron.
On Saturday, November 15, 1851, there was great excitement in Port Macquarie, for this was the day on which, in attempting to cross the bar at the entrance to the harbor, the yacht "Wanderer" had become a total wreck. This yacht had sailed nearly all round the world, besides to a good many islands in the Pacific. She was owned by a man named Boyd, and was a picture as she appeared on the ocean in full sail. This unfortunate man, however, went ashore at the Island of Guadalcama, where the ship had been prior to coming to Port Macquarie, and never returned to the yacht again, the supposition being that he was murdered by the natives. There were four white men on board the "Wanderer" when she arrived at Port Macquarie, who were:—Captain Ottowell, master; Mr. Webster, artist; Mr. Barnes, botanist; and Mr. Crawford (Boyd's nephew), mate. Besides these there were a number of natives from different islands, and one of the publicans in Port Macquarie got the "niggers" dancing in his hotel to draw custom.
All the men came ashore from the wreck on rope, and, save a little wetting, were none the worse for their experience. The wreck was sold to a local man. On board the ship were some beautiful paintings and views of the different places that the yacht had visited, besides many skulls, native implements of war, shells, and many other things. Amongst the articles were suits of both the Emperor of China and the Shah of Persia, and for a wager two gentlemen of the town donned these costumes and walked the streets. All the goods out of the vessel were afterwards open to public view in a large store, and some of the cannon balls and other material which belonged to the yacht yet remain in Port Macquarie. The white men from the yacht afterwards spent a good deal of their time at Lake Innes, where they engaged in sporting and other pursuits.
The "Rosetta Joseph."
"Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam to sail
Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail."
—Byron.