The Last Voyage: To India and Australia, in the 'Sunbeam'

Before dusk the lee cutter was got in-board, more reefs were taken in, all was made snug on deck, and I might say stuffy below. Shortly after this was accomplished we sailed out of the influence of the storm, the centre travelling quickly away to the south-east of us. Thereupon we shook out one or two reefs and set a mizen trysail to prevent the fine weather lops coming on board; for the sea was beginning to go faster than the wind, and one or two big beads of spray found their way on deck, one of which, much to their amusement, drenched the children completely. The glass continued to rise, and the weather improved throughout the night.

Friday, May 6th.– I was indeed delighted when, at dawn, it was thought safe to let us have a little light and air down below. Soon the sun rose, and all became bright and beautiful once more, though the air felt extremely chilly. We were now well on our course, but sailing pretty close to the wind, and therefore only doing about five or six knots. Continual squalls struck us throughout the day, and the sea was very lumpy from the effects of yesterday's gale, though the wind had almost completely subsided. What there was of it gradually headed us in the course of the afternoon, which did not tend to make things more comfortable; though the children at any rate did not seem to mind it, for they have entirely got over their slight sea-sickness. At noon we had sailed 138 miles, and were in lat. 32° 28´ N., long. 108° 6´ E.; the barometer stood at 30·10, and the temperature was still 60°.

Sunday, May 8th.– Woke early, only to hear that the wind had changed; but it proved a lovely morning, though the sky was covered with fleeting clouds, which made it difficult for the navigators to get the sun. We had the Litany at 11.30, and at noon were in lat. 34° 47´ S., long. 113° 54´ E., having run 201 miles. The temperature had risen to 63°, and the barometer stood at 30·19.

Tom has been deeply immersed in calculations all this afternoon, the best of the three chronometers on board, by Dent, having behaved in a very erratic manner since we got into a cooler temperature. On the other hand, the chronometer of Brockbank & Atkins, which has hitherto been regarded as not quite so reliable, is making up for past shortcomings by a spell of good conduct. Under these circumstances, it is difficult to know which to depend upon, and Tom is consequently somewhat anxious about his landfall. The weather has been so squally and overcast that no really good sights have been obtained all day.

At noon we had only come 194 miles by dead-reckoning. Observation proved that we had been helped onwards by a favouring current, and had really come 201 miles. We had evening service at 4.30 p. m. During the afternoon we saw many more sea-birds, and several albatrosses. It was a fine evening, the wind having dropped rather light. In the middle watch, however, it became squally.

CHAPTER X.

WESTERN AUSTRALIA

Monday, May 9th.– At 3 a. m. carried away the clew of the mainsail, and at 7 a. m. set more sail. At 10 a. m. we made West Cape Howe, Western Australia, our first land since leaving the Allas Strait. It was with great joy and relief, as well as with, I think, pardonable pride in Tom's skill as a navigator, that I went on deck to see these rock-bound shores. It was certainly a good landfall, especially considering the difficulties which we had met with on account of the chronometers. The instrument which for years has been considered the most trustworthy suddenly changed its rate, and has been losing three seconds in the twenty-four hours. The navigators have been taking great pains. Observations have been frequent. Fifteen sights were taken daily, in three sets of five at three different periods.

Tom's estimated average run of 1,000 knots per week under sail has come out pretty well, and my own daily estimates of the run have been also surprisingly near the mark. In fact, Tom thinks them rather wonderful, considering that they have been arrived at simply by watching and thinking of the vessel's ways all day and part of the night, and often without asking any questions.

At 11 a. m. we lowered the mainsail and raised the funnel. At noon we had run 190 miles, and were half a mile to the northward of Eclipse Island, the barometer standing at 30·19, and the thermometer at 59°. At one o'clock we passed inside Vancouver's Ledge. The coast seemed fine and bold, the granite rocks looking like snow on the summit of the cliffs, at the foot of which the fleecy rollers were breaking in a fringe of pale green sea, whilst on the other side the water remained of a magnificent deep ultramarine colour.

About two o'clock we rounded Bald Head, soon after which the harbour-master of King George Sound and a pilot came on board, and were the first to welcome us to Western Australia. Over the lowland on one side we could see a P. & O. steamer, with the Blue Peter flying. Accordingly we sealed up all our mails and hurried them off, having previously hoisted the signal to ask if they could be received. By four o'clock we were at anchor in King George Sound, which reminded us much of Pictou in Nova Scotia.

Albany is a clean-looking little town, scarcely more than a village, built on the shore of the bay, and containing some 2,000 inhabitants. We were soon in the gig, on the way to the P. & O. steamer 'Shannon' to see our old friend Captain Murray. After looking round the familiar decks, and having tea on board, we exchanged good wishes for a fair voyage, and rowed ashore, landing on a long wooden pier.

Carriages are not to be hired in Albany, but we found an obliging carter, who had come to fetch hay from the wharf, and who consented to carry me, instead of a bundle of hay, up to the house of Mr. Loftie, the Government Resident. We have decided to remain a week in order to give me a chance of recruiting; besides which the 'Sunbeam' needs a little painting and touching-up to make her look smart again after all the hard work and buffetings she has gone through.

Most of the party stayed on shore to dinner, for the kitchen-range on board the 'Sunbeam' has got rather damaged by the knocking about of the last few days. I went back, however, in my primitive conveyance as far as the end of the pier, and then returned straight on board, feeling very tired with even so short an expedition. In the course of the afternoon a large sackful of letters and newspapers from England was delivered on board, much to our delight.

Tuesday, May 10th.– A busy morning with letters and telegrams. Dogs are not allowed to land in any part of Australia until they have performed six months' quarantine, but I was able to take mine ashore at Quarantine Island, which we found without much difficulty with the aid of a chart. A little before one o'clock we landed at the pier, where Mr. Loftie met us, and drove us to the Residency to lunch. It was a great treat to taste fresh bread and butter and cream once more, especially to me, for these are among the few things I am able to eat. After lunch several ladies and gentlemen came to call on us.

I was sorry to hear that a terrible epidemic of typhoid fever seems to be ravaging this little town. Built as it is on the side of a hill overlooking the sea, and with a deliciously invigorating air always blowing, Albany ought to be the most perfect sanatorium in the world. Later in the afternoon I went for a drive with Mrs. Loftie all round the place, seeing the church, schools, and new town hall, as well as the best and worst parts of the town. It was no longer a mystery why the place should be unhealthy, for the water-supply seems very bad, although the hills above abound with pure springs. The drainage from stables, farm-buildings, poultry yards, and various detached houses apparently has been so arranged as to fall into the wells which supply each house. The effect of this fatal mistake can easily be imagined, and it is sad to hear of the valuable young lives that have been cut off in their prime by this terrible illness.

In the course of our drive we passed near an encampment of aborigines, but did not see any of the people themselves. We also passed several large heaps of whales' bones, collected, in the days when whales were numerous here, by a German, with the intention of burning or grinding them into manure. Formerly this part of the coast used to be a good ground for whalers, and there were always five or six vessels in or out of the harbour all the year round. But the crews, with their usual shortsightedness, not content with killing their prey in the ordinary manner, took to blowing them up with dynamite, the result being that they killed more than they could deal with, and frightened the remainder away.

The steward's report on the resources of the place from a marketing point of view is more curious than encouraging. There is no fresh butter nor milk to be had, except through the kindness of a few private individuals. Mutton abounds, but there is very little beef or veal. Good York hams are to be procured from England only. Fruit and vegetables are brought down from Perth or come over from Adelaide, and the most eatable salt butter is brought from Melbourne.

Wednesday, May the 11th.– It had been settled that to-day should be devoted to an excursion to the forests which are now being opened up by the new line of railway in course of construction. The special train of ballast-trucks which had been provided for us was to have started at ten o'clock, soon after which hour we landed, some delay having been caused at the last moment by the receipt of a message requesting us to send ashore every rug we possessed, in order to make the truck in which we were to travel as comfortable as possible. The required wraps and furs had accordingly to be got up from the hold, where they had lain for months past. On landing we found a pleasant party assembled to receive us, including the engineer of the new line, Mr. Stewart, and his wife. In due course we were all seated on two long planks, back to back, in open trucks, behind an engine and tender. We commenced our journey by slowly passing the enclosures, gardens, and courts adjoining the houses of the town. About three-quarters of a mile out of Albany we stopped to water the engine at a primitive trough in a cutting about twelve feet deep – the deepest on the whole line, which in the main is laid over a surface as flat as a pancake.

The morning was simply perfect – one of those days which make mere existence a pleasure; the air felt light and invigorating, the sun was bright and warm; all seemed so different from the damp muggy air or fierce burning sunshine of which we have had so much experience lately.

Our route lay over a sort of moorland, sprinkled with rare ericas such as we carefully preserve in greenhouses at home. Other flowers there were, too, in abundance, and of many kinds, including scarlet bottle-brushes, large white epacris, and mimosa covered with yellow balls of blossom. The trees seemed to consist chiefly of white gum, peppermint, and banksias, and all looked rather ragged and untidy. One great feature of the vegetation was what are called the 'black-boys' (Xanthorrhea), somewhat resembling tree-ferns, with a huge black pineapple stem, at the top of which grows a bushy tuft of grass-like foliage.

About nine miles out we came to a broad stretch of water known by the very prosaic name of 'Nine-mile Lake.' It looked lovely this bright morning, with the opposite hills and a fine group of blue gum-trees sharply mirrored in its glassy surface. The train stopped for a few minutes to enable us to admire the view and to take some photographs. In the course of another mile or so we quitted the main line to Perth, and proceeded along a branch line leading into the heart of the forest. The undergrowth was nowhere very thick, and where it had been cleared by burning, fine grass had sprung up in its place. As we left the moorland and got into the real forest of grand gum-trees the scene became most striking. The massive stems of many of the eucalypti were between thirty and forty feet in circumference and over a hundred feet in height. The glimpses which we caught between these tall trees of Torbay, with the waves breaking in huge rollers on the shore or in angry surf against the steep cliffs of Eclipse Island, were quite fascinating.

We steamed slowly along the lightly ballasted line – only laid yesterday, and over which no engine has yet travelled – two men running on in front to tap the rails and joints, and to see that all was safe. About three-quarters of a mile of rail is laid each day. It is being built on what is called the land-grant system; that is to say, for every mile completed the Government give the railway company 6,000 square acres of land, to be chosen at the completion of the line by the company's agent, the Government reserving to themselves the right of alternate frontage to the railway. The distance from Albany to Beverly (a town standing about 120 miles equidistant from Perth and Fremantle, which will be the terminus of the line, at any rate for the present) is 220 miles. The line was commenced and should have been carried on from both ends, but the contractors find it much cheaper to work only from the Albany end. It ought to be a very cheap line, for it requires scarcely any earthworks and no rock-cuttings or bridges, the soil being loose and gravelly with a granite foundation. There are few rivers to cross; and timber for the sleepers is to be had in abundance, and of the best quality, from the trees which must necessarily be cut down to clear the forest for the passage of the line. The entire road was to have been completed in three years from the time of commencement; but it will probably be finished in about two, as a good deal of the work is already done.

We were taken by another branch line to some saw-mills, where the sleepers for the railway are prepared. Here some of us got into a light American buggy drawn by a fine strong pair of cart-horses, in which conveyance we took our first drive through the bush. To me it seemed rather rough work, for in many places there was no track at all, while in others the road was obstructed by 'black-boys' and by innumerable tree-stumps, which the horses avoided or stepped over most cleverly. Still the wheels could not be expected to show quite so much intelligence, and we consequently suffered frequent and violent jolts. From the driver – a pleasant, well-informed man – I learnt a good deal respecting the men employed on the line. There are about 130 hands, living up here in the forest, engaged in hewing down, sawing, and transporting trees. These, with the women and children accompanying them, form a population of 200 souls suddenly established in the depths of a virgin forest. They have a school, and a schoolmaster who charges two shillings a week per head for schooling, and has fourteen pupils. He was dressed like a gentleman, but earns less than the labourers, who get ten shillings a day, or 3l. a week, the best hands being paid regularly under all conditions of weather, and only the inferior labourers receiving their wages for the time during which they are actually at work. There are four fine teams of Australian-bred horses, and a spare pair for road or bush work. Communication with Albany, the base of operations, is of course maintained by means of the line, some of the navvies even coming from and returning thither each day in the trucks. The married men who live in the forest have nice little three-roomed cottages, and those I went into were neatly papered and furnished, and looked delightfully clean and tidy. The single men generally live in a sort of tent with permanent walls of brick or wood, and mess at a boarding-house for eighteen shillings a week. This seems a good deal for a labourer to pay for food alone, but it really means five good meals a day. The little colony has a butcher attached to it, from whom meat of the finest quality may be purchased at sixpence per pound, all but the prime parts being thrown away.

The rest of the party having walked up the line, I waited for them at the house of the District Manager, who with his wife received me most hospitably. On the walls of the apartment I was interested to notice the portraits of some of those who had been connected with my father-in-law in business, and who are now in the employ of Messrs. Miller, the contractors for this line.

As soon as Mr. Stewart and the rest of the party had joined us, we proceeded to the saw-mills and watched some great logs of jarrah being cut into sleepers. There were no elephants to assist in the operation as in Burmah, so that all the work had to be done by steam, with a little help from men and horses. Quantities of fragrant rose-coloured sawdust, used for stable litter, were lying about. Tons of wood not large enough for sleepers were being burned in order to get rid of it. It seemed a terribly wasteful proceeding, but there was more material than was wanted, and space after all was the great thing needed.

From the saw-mills we penetrated further into the forest, in order to see more large trees cut down, hewn into logs, and dragged away. Some of the giants of the forest were really magnificent. We followed a double team of sixteen horses drawing a timber-cart composed of one long thick pole between two enormous wheels some seven or eight feet in diameter. Above these wheels a very strong iron arch is fastened, provided with heavy chains, by means of which and with the aid of an iron crowbar, used as a lever, almost any weight of timber can be raised from the ground. The apparatus is called a 'jinka.' The men engaged in the work sit upon the pole with the greatest sangfroid as it goes bumping and crashing through the forest, striking up against big trees, or knocking down small ones; sometimes one wheel and sometimes another high on the top of a stump, or sometimes both wheels firmly fixed in one of the numerous deep holes. The scene was altogether most picturesque, as well as interesting; and it must be remembered that the top of each stump was larger than the surface of a large dining-table. The trees were from eighty to one hundred feet in height, all their branches springing from near the summit, so that the shadows cast were quite different from those one is accustomed to see in an ordinary wood. The day was brilliant, the sun shining brightly, and the blue sky relieved by a few white fleecy clouds moving softly before a gentle air. The timber-cutters were of fine physique, with brawny limbs and sunburnt faces.

We watched the adventures of one enormous log. A team of fourteen horses were yoked to a strong chain attached by large hooks to a trunk of such vast proportions that it seemed as if all the king's horses and all the king's men could never make it stir an inch. Twice the effort was made, and twice it failed. First, the hooks slipped off the end, and as the horses were pulling and tugging with all their might, directly the weight was removed away they went helter-skelter down the steep hill, up which they had just climbed with so much difficulty, being utterly unable to stop themselves on the steep slippery ground. Next time the chain broke as the horses were straining every muscle, and the same tantalising process was repeated with even more striking effect. The whole of the long team of the fifteen horses (for they had added another this time) became hopelessly entangled, two of the poor animals either falling or getting hampered and knocked down in their headlong gallop. The third time the log was got into position; the 'jinka,' with only one horse attached to it, was brought close, the pole was lowered, and the levers applied with such force that they not only raised the log but very nearly the unfortunate horse also into the air. When all was satisfactorily arranged, the other horses were attached to the jinka, and away they all went merrily down the hill, but only to come into collision with a big tree. The horses had again to be taken out, and harnessed this time to the other end of the jinka, so as to pull it in the opposite direction. At last the big log reached the saw-mills in safety, about the same time as we got there ourselves. We visited the village shop, which appeared to be well supplied with useful stores, and also the butcher's and carpenter's shops, and the smithy. They have never seen a clergyman or doctor up here, but by railway there is easy communication with the town if necessary. In the course of our rambles we heard the disheartening intelligence that, owing to some misunderstanding, our train had already gone back to Albany, taking with it not only our luncheon, but all the wraps. We proceeded, however, to the trysting-place, only to be greeted by blank looks of disappointment as each new arrival received the unpleasant news that the report of the train's erratic proceeding was only too well founded. Everybody was tired, cold, and hungry, and the conversation naturally languished. At last Mr. Stewart, who had been down the line to reconnoitre, brought back the welcome news that the distant snort of the engine could be heard. In due course it arrived, and the baskets and boxes containing the much-desired food were transferred from the truck to the bank and quickly unpacked by willing hands. Never, I am sure, was a luncheon more thoroughly appreciated than this in the depths of an Australian forest. The wraps, too, were most acceptable, for the air became keen directly after the early sunset. When we started on our return journey, taking back two truck-loads of workmen with us, it really seemed bitterly cold. Care had also to be taken to shelter ourselves from the shower of sparks from the wood fire of the engine, which flew and streamed out behind us like the tail of a rocket. We went back much more quickly than we had come, and stopped nowhere, except to take in a fresh supply of wood and water and to drop some of our passengers at their wayside residences.

Tab started off on horseback early this morning for Kendenup, a large station about forty miles inland, where we are to join him to-morrow, having been invited to stay for a day or two and judge for ourselves what station life is like. We accordingly sent all our luggage ashore to-night, in readiness for an early start in the morning.

Thursday, May 12th.– Half-past nine was the hour appointed for our departure, and soon afterwards we were all assembled on the pier, where we were met by a little group of friends who had come to see us off. Mr. Roach, the landlord of the 'White Hart,' was to drive us in a comfortable-looking light four-wheeled waggonette with a top to it, drawn by a pair of Government horses. The latter are generally used for carrying the mails or for the police service, but the Governor had telegraphed orders that they were to be lent to us for this expedition, as we could not have made it without them. Mabelle, Mr. des Graz, and Mr. Pemberton packed in behind, whilst I climbed up in front next the driver. There was a little difficulty at first in starting, but once that was overcome it was indeed a case of 'off.' We galloped four miles without stopping or upsetting, the one fact being perhaps quite as wonderful as the other. Up hill, down dale, round corners, over stumps, along rough roads, through heavy sand – on we went as hard as our horses could gallop. Fortunately there is not much traffic on the road, and during this mad career we only met two men walking and passed one cart.

About seven miles from Albany we had to climb a long steep incline, called Spearwood Hill, from the top of which we had a fine view over Albany, King George Sound, and the lighthouse on Breaksea Island. There were a great many flowers and a few trees quite unknown to us in the bush. Some of the blossoms were extremely pretty, but it was hopeless to think of stopping to gather them, for our horses were warranted not to start again under half an hour at least. They went at a good pace, however, passing another cart, and one colonist on horseback, very much encumbered with parcels, but not sufficiently so to prevent him from politely making room for us.

Chorkerup Lake Inn, our first change, fifteen miles from Albany, was reached in rather less than ninety minutes. It is a long, low, one-storeyed wooden building, but everything was scrupulously clean. In a few minutes the table was covered with a spotless cloth, on which fowls, home-cured bacon, mutton, home-made bread, potted butter, condensed milk, tea, Bass's beer, and sundry other articles of food and drink were temptingly displayed. We could not help regretting the absence of fresh milk and butter; and it does seem wonderful that where land is of comparatively little value, and where grass springs up in profusion the moment that land is cleared, people should not keep a cow or two, especially when the family comprises numerous small children, and there is a constant though scanty stream of passing travellers to provide for, whose number will be increased when the railway passes within a couple of miles of the inn.