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

There are a good many invalids on board among the crew and servants, the symptoms in each case being very similar. This morning the two maids, two stewards, and three of the men had more or less succumbed to 'malarial colds' – nothing serious, the doctor says, but very uncomfortable. It is quite certain that many more are now laid up than we ever had on the sick-list in the tropics; but the sudden change from heat to cold may of course account for this state of things.

Wednesday, May 18th.– The wind was rather more favourable; but, although close-hauled, we were nearly two and a half points off our course, the head-sea running very high. Although the air was warm I remained in my cabin all the morning, feeling wretched and uncomfortable. At noon we had run 110 miles – 100 under steam and 10 under sail – and were in lat. 35° 44´ S., long. 119° 53´ E., Kangaroo Island being 820 miles distant. The total distance now accomplished since we left England is 9,236 miles under sail, and 7,982 under steam, making a total of 17,218 miles.

I was called upon deck once during the day to see a whale with a fin on its back. Gray, in his book on Western Australia, says that this kind of whale lives principally on the large phosphorescent medusæ. The evening was cold, as usual, and I was glad to go below early. Venus rose brilliantly, but so red that several on board thought it must be the port light of a ship astern; though how any vessel could have suddenly got there they could not make out. Soon afterwards shouts were heard on first seeing what Tom described as lamps of light or fireballs astern. These turned out to be the luminous medusæ which Gray speaks of, and which were much larger and more brilliant than any we had yet seen.

Thursday, May 19th.– Wind fair, but head-swell still continuing. I had a very busy morning below, writing journal and letters. At noon we had run 120 miles under sail, and were then in lat. 36° 12´ S., long. 122° 4´ E. In the afternoon we took some photographs of Tom in his R.N.A.V. uniform, the Guard of Honour, ourselves, the Court, &c., on the occasion of Neptune's visit when we crossed the line. Sundry unsuccessful attempts were made to photograph the animals, but they seemed to be suffering from a severe attack of the fidgets. To see 'Jenny Jenkins,' the monkey, in her new blue jumper with 'Sunbeam R.Y.S.,' embroidered by Mabelle, and 'Mr. Short,' the black-and-tan terrier, playing together, is really very pretty; they are so quick and agile in their movements that it is almost impossible to catch them. 'Mrs. Sharp,' the white toy terrier, in her new jersey, a confection of Muriel's, occasionally joins in the frolic; though her condescension is not much appreciated, for she is rather too quick with her teeth. The photograph of the Guard of Honour was spoiled by a passing whale, to which Tom suddenly drew everybody's attention by pointing to it with his drawn sword. The monster left a greasy wake behind him, as he swam lazily along, blowing slightly.

Towards evening the air became very cold, and the wind not quite so fair. A splendid sunset threw a lovely glow on the sails. Later on the sea continued to go down, and I was able to make my first appearance at dinner at sea for many a long day past, but only as a spectator even now.

Friday, May 20th.– Another fine clear day; but the horrid easterly swell is as bad as ever, and with such a light wind we seem to feel it more. A busy morning with journal and letters.

At noon we had come 148 miles under sail, and Kangaroo Island was now 546 miles distant; we were in lat. 36° 25´ S., long. 125° 13´ E.

Saturday, May 21st.– A pouring wet morning, with every appearance of continued rain. Later on the weather cleared, though heavy squalls came up at intervals until noon, when it turned quite warm, bright, and sunny.

In the afternoon the wind freshened considerably, and our speed improved in proportion. The heavy head-swell having gone down, everyone on board felt more comfortable. Advantage was taken of the lull to get a few photographs of the engineers, cooks, and others. A nautical entertainment had been fixed for 6 p. m.; but unfortunately that hour was selected to gybe the ship, so that it was 6.30 before the entertainment commenced. There was but a small audience; which seemed a pity, for the performance was exceptionally good.

The wind continued to freshen, and by 11 p. m. we were tearing through the water before a fair breeze, but knocking about a good deal more than was pleasant.

Sunday, May 22nd.– From midnight until 6 a. m. the state of things was wretched in the extreme. Sails flapping, the cry of the sailors continually heard above the howling of the wind, and much water on deck. Then I went to sleep, waking again at seven to find it blowing half a gale of wind, which rapidly increased to a whole gale. At noon we were in lat. 35° 55´ S., long. 132° 7´ E., having run 206 miles under sail.

We had service at 11.15, and again at four o'clock. In the morning there was no congregation; partly because of the rough weather, and partly because we had sailed so well that nobody realised how much faster the time was to-day than it had been yesterday, and we were therefore all behindhand. In the afternoon I went on deck for a short time, but found it so cold that I could not remain; for, although the wind was right aft, the gale blew fierce and strong. Tom had a very anxious time of it, literally flying along a strange coast, with on one hand the danger of being driven ashore if the weather should become at all thick, and on the other the risk of getting pooped by the powerful following sea if sail were shortened. At 11 p. m. we met a large sailing-ship steering to the southward; which was felt to be very satisfactory, showing as it did that we were on the right track.

Monday, May 23rd.– Precisely at 7 a. m. we made the lights of Cape Borda or Flinders, on Kangaroo Island, about twelve miles ahead, exactly where Tom expected to find it, which was a great relief to everybody on board, after our two days of discomfort and anxiety. At noon we had run 265 miles, and should have done much more had we not been obliged to shorten sail in the night.

In the afternoon the yacht passed between Kangaroo and Althorpe Islands, the coast of the former being very like the white cliffs between Dover and Folkestone. It was extremely cold, and after my night of neuralgic pains I did not dare to go out on deck, and had to content myself with observing everything through the windows of the deck-house. In the evening we made Troubridge and all the other lights on the way up to Glenelg, and after some deliberation Tom decided to heave-to for the night, instead of sailing on to the anchorage of Port Adelaide.

Tuesday, May 24th.– By 6 a. m. we were on deck, endeavouring to ascertain our precise position, and about seven a steam-launch came bustling towards us, whose occupants hailed us with cordial welcomes to South Australia. Directly they came alongside, our small deck-house was crowded with visitors, who presented us in the name of the Holdfast Bay Yacht Club with a beautifully illuminated and kindly worded address. So anxious had they been to give us a warm and early welcome, that they had been on the look-out for us all night, while we had been waiting outside so as to arrive by daylight. It seems that the signalmen on Cape Borda had made out our number yesterday when we were more than seven miles off, so clear is the dry air of these regions. Our early guests were naturally hungry and cold; and a large party soon sat down to a hastily prepared breakfast. It was excellently supplemented, however – to us seafarers especially – by a large basket of splendid fruit which our friends had brought off with them. Presently the Mayor of Glenelg and his daughter arrived, full, like everybody else, of kindly plans for our amusement while here.

Having come to an anchor off Glenelg, Tom and Tab went up to Adelaide to attend the Birthday levée, and I landed later with the rest of the party at the long wooden pier.

The first appearance of Glenelg from the sea is very like that of Deauville, the town appearing to consist of semi-detached houses standing in the midst of gardens and trees, with a pretty background of hills. There seemed to be no small houses or streets – an impression which was confirmed by closer inspection. In fact, Glenelg is essentially a fashionable seaside place; and though there are a few excellent shops, most of the supplies must come from Adelaide, seven miles off, to which a steam-tram runs every half-hour, taking twenty minutes for the journey. The carriage-road crosses the tramway and the railway line to Melbourne at intervals. The country is quite flat, the road passing between fields now beautifully green. We saw the suburb of Goodwood a little way off, and soon afterwards the tall spires of the churches and the towers of the public buildings of Adelaide appeared. To-day being a general holiday in honour of the Queen's birthday, the houses in the city were decked with flags and the shops closed, which gave it rather a Sunday-like appearance. The streets are fine and wide, especially King William Street. We drove to Government House, a comfortable residence surrounded by a nice English-looking garden.

It was very pleasant to meet our friend the Governor, Sir William Robinson, again. After lunch we drove off to the races in two open carriages, with an escort of police, passing through a pretty part of the city, where charming little villas nestle in the midst of detached gardens. The racecourse itself is extremely pretty, and commands a fine view. The grand-stand is a fine building, with the Governor's box in the centre. The Cup had just been run for, but we saw a capital hurdle-race, over a course three miles long, with some very stiff flights of rails, about which there was no give-and-take. Then came a good flat race, three out of five horses coming in neck and neck. We drove back to Government House to tea, and then returned to Glenelg, where we had left the two little ones.

On the pier we found awaiting us an unfortunate reporter, who had been hunting Tom down all day to try and interview him, but had always managed to arrive everywhere just too late. We took him off with us and gave him some dinner, for which he was very grateful after his hard wearying day. Presently Tom and Mabelle arrived, and directly afterwards a boat came alongside with another reporter. More unfortunate even than the first, he had sat at the semaphore, halfway between here and Port Adelaide, all night, and then, not knowing where to go, had oscillated between the two places all day, telegraphing in various directions for information.

Wednesday, May 25th.– At half-past ten o'clock we started on an excursion into the picturesque mountains which lie behind Glenelg, Mr. Stock driving us in his nice little American buggy, drawn by a capital pair of horses. The rest of the party followed in a waggonette. Our way at first lay through the suburbs of Glenelg. The houses which we passed had a well-to-do appearance, with scarcely any shops or workmen's dwellings to be seen. The road soon began to ascend, and before long became steep. As we climbed upwards towards Belair the view became so lovely that it was impossible to resist the temptation of adding to our collection by pausing to photograph the scene. Our first stopping-place was the Blackwood Hotel, where we found a capital luncheon. The air felt pure and bracing, the sun shone brightly, and the scenery had a thoroughly English character, with pretty hedgerows, and little streams crossed by modern bridges, all of which reminded us pleasantly of the old country. What was less familiar was an unprotected railway crossing which intersected the road close by, and over which a train passed rapidly, and, as it seemed to us, with dangerously insufficient warning.

After driving for some distance along the crest of the hill, we dipped once more into the valley by another road quite as steep and more tortuous than the last. From this road the views were even more charming than those which we had previously admired; for beneath us lay a complete panorama of Adelaide and its suburbs, covering part of the rich plain at the foot of the opposite blue hills, and skirted by the north arm of the Port river. The little horses went well, and, although the road was rough and in many places steep, trotted merrily on until we reached the pier at Glenelg. Here we found a group of sixty or seventy visitors to the 'Sunbeam' waiting to be conveyed on board in the steam-launch, which had to perform several journeys to the shore before her task was accomplished.

May 25th.– About noon we got under way and steamed up towards Port Adelaide, stopping for a time off the semaphore in order to visit the Japanese corvette 'Ryujo,' and the South Australian gunboat 'Protector.' The coast reminded me of that outside Liverpool, near the mouth of the Mersey; well-built watering-places, piers, and sandy beaches – a very paradise for bathers – completing the resemblance. Largs Bay is a particularly healthy spot, and possesses an hotel which is said to be the best in South Australia. At the semaphore also a compact little township has been established, which boasts a mayor and corporation.

Further on nothing except sand and bushes could be seen; and a little higher we got into a narrower channel, and passed a few boats and small craft, every one of which had some sort of flag or bunting flying in our honour. The shouts of warm greeting increased as we approached the town, till at last it was difficult to turn quickly enough from side to side and respond to the waving hands and cheers and shouts of cordial welcome to the new country. The pier and wharves were densely crowded, and we were scarcely abreast of them before the Mayor (Mr. S. Malin) and Corporation came on board with an address saying how glad they were to see us in their waters. This visit was followed by another from Commodore Honey, Mr. Justice Bundey, and other gentlemen representing the South Australian Yacht Club. All this was very pleasant and gratifying; though I must confess that such unexpected kindness produced that familiar feeling known as a lump in my throat. It is always rather touching to hear any one else cheered enthusiastically, and when those nearest and dearest to one are concerned, it is naturally doubly trying.

After a hurried inspection of the yacht by our visitors, and a hasty tea, we were obliged to say 'good-bye' to our newly-made friends, for we had to catch the five-o'clock train, and there was no time to spare. In fact, we nearly missed it, and I am afraid we must have presented an undignified spectacle to the numerous idlers who had turned out to look at us – I in a waggonette heaped with bags and bundles, and the others flying along the street. Passing through the pleasant country, we arrived at the North Terrace station, and reached Government House a few minutes later. In the evening there was a dinner party and a reception, which brought what had been a most agreeable, but for me a very tiring, day to a close.

CHAPTER XII.

ADELAIDE

Friday, May 27th.– We breakfasted punctually at nine o'clock, and I drove afterwards with the Governor to see a collection of furs which were to be sold by auction. They were chiefly from Tasmania, and comprised a good many excellent specimens. From the fur-shop we went to the Exhibition buildings, where we were met by Sir Herbert Sandford (the British Commissioner), Sir Samuel Davenport, Mr. Jessop, and others. The building is light, airy, and well designed; and when filled, as it promises to be, with natural products, manufactured goods, and works of art, will doubtless be well worth a visit. I wish we could return for the opening, as we have been most kindly pressed to do; but unfortunately our motto always seems to be 'Forward!' and we are due in Melbourne on June 9th, and at Mount Gambier on the 16th; so that if we linger for every inducement I fear we shall never get through the programme of our voyage.

From the Exhibition the Governor took me for a drive all round the city, past handsome and substantial public buildings and through wide and clean streets. The system of park-lands, or reserves of open spaces between the blocks of buildings, appears to be excellent, both from a picturesque and a sanitary point of view.

We lunched at North Adelaide with Mr. Justice Bundey, and saw the beautiful view from his house. On arriving, I was given a basket of pink roses grown out of doors, which recalled delightful memories of an English June, although in Australia the present month really corresponds to our own November.

Tom had to rush off to meet Mr. Bray, and to attend the annual meeting of the South Australian Geographical Society, where he made a speech.2 Among other people present at the meeting, he was introduced to the Australian explorer, Mr. David Lindsay, who returned about six months ago from a journey of thirteen months right across the continent, from Adelaide to a point a little to the south-east of Port Darwin. The expedition was most difficult and trying – much more so than it would have been in any ordinary year, on account of the drought. The thermometer sometimes stood at 125° in the shade, and could not register the heat in the sun! The explorers were obliged to travel by day, in order that they might see and report upon the country. They were once seven days without water, and constantly ran very short of it. The journey was made entirely with camels, and the intelligence of these animals seems to have been extraordinary. One day the party were, as usual, very short of water, and Mr. Lindsay's favourite camel seemed almost exhausted. Fortunately his rider chanced to notice smoke in the distance, which, he knew, indicated the presence of blacks, and consequently water. Merely turning the camel's head in the right direction, he let the reins fall on its neck, and the creature carried him to the desired spot, although it took five hours to traverse the distance – fourteen miles. After a little drink and a short rest of four hours he was able to proceed sixteen miles further, to a spot where he rested quietly for three or four days, by the side of a stream.

Saturday, May 28th.– We had several visitors in the early morning, among whom was Brigadier-General Owen, who brought plans for the defences of Adelaide for Tom to examine. Mr. Millar also called to make arrangements about our projected trip to Silverton.

At half-past eleven we proceeded by train to Port Adelaide, where we were received by the Mayor (Mr. Malin) and Corporation, and taken to see the new municipal buildings. Afterwards we had lunch in the town-hall; and later on some of the party took a drive round the town and saw the museum, which, though small, is interesting, a large flour-mill, and several other buildings. By the 2.50 train we left for Adelaide, and had to dress with unheard-of rapidity in order to be present at the Governor's reception, which was attended by several hundred people. Fortunately it was a lovely day, and we were able to take advantage of the mild spring-like temperature to stroll about the pretty garden and listen to the pleasant strains of the police bands.

Sunday, May 29th.– This morning we went to the Anglican cathedral at half-past ten, and heard a most beautiful choral service, including a 'Te Deum' by Gounod. This being Whit Sunday, the interior of the church was prettily decorated. Service over, we drove to the residence of the Chief Justice, where zoology and botany are combined in a small space, for the semi-tropical garden in front of his house is lovely, while in the spacious grounds at the back much care is given to rare and curious pets. The interior of the house is a perfect museum of beautiful specimens of Japanese art and curios of all kinds.

Wednesday, June 1st.– A very agreeable luncheon at the Mayor of Adelaide's house, and afterwards to the town-hall, where we received a formal welcome from the Adelaide Town Council. Kind speeches and warm acknowledgments, followed by an organ recital. The instrument superb and admirably played. By 4.45 train to Cockburn to visit the celebrated Broken-Hill Silver Mine at Silverton.

Thursday, June 2nd.– Our special train reached Cockburn at eight o'clock this morning. We breakfasted at the running-sheds, and were afterwards driven over to Broken-Hill, which we reached at two o'clock, and descended the mine both before and after luncheon. We went down what is called M'Culloch's Shaft, at a point where the mine is 216 feet deep, and were greatly interested in seeing the process of extracting the ore. The latest weekly returns from this mine show a production of 46,000 ounces of silver.

Friday, June 3rd.– This morning we descended another shaft and inspected a different part of the mine, in which the ores differ greatly from those we saw yesterday, and consist chiefly of kaolin. After reaching the surface we visited the assaying offices, and watched the experiments for testing the richness of ores.

The afternoon's drive to Silverton was very pleasant. After changing horses, we went on over plains covered with salt-bushes. The plucky little horses did their work excellently, and landed us at Cockburn at 6.30 p. m. Thence, after another change of horses, we continued our journey to Thackaringa, where we rejoined the railway.

Saturday, June 4th.– On the return journey from Silverton to Adelaide I stopped during the early hours of this morning at Terowie to see my cousin Herbert Woodgate, and thoroughly enjoyed, in spite of sleepiness and fatigue, the sight at his house of so many objects which brought back memories of old days. The walls were covered with pictures of Swayslands, the dear old place in Kent of Herbert's father – where I spent many happy hours of childhood, and where Mr. Burnand used often to come and coach us all in charades and amateur theatricals. There were also many pictures of Penshurst Place, and of the old village church, whose beautiful chime of bells I so well remember, and where I have 'assisted' at more than one pretty wedding. It all brought back many mingled memories of joy and sorrow. Nothing could have been kinder than our welcome. I was quite sorry when we had to turn out again and trundle down to the train and be off once more to Adelaide, where we arrived at half-past twelve p. m.

We were met at the station and carried off to lunch at Government House, and afterwards had to dress as quickly as possible to go to the meet of the hounds. The day was fine and pleasant, and it was very enjoyable driving down in the Governor's mail-phaeton, and seeing the other vehicles of all sorts and kinds proceeding in the same direction. The drivers of these vehicles were so regardless of all considerations of time, place, and speed, that I began to think hunting on wheels, or even going to a meet on wheels, was far more dangerous than riding across country.

I am not sure that I should enjoy my time in Australia so much if I had not a certain belief in kismet; for travelling out here is certainly very full of risk. What with unbroken horses, rickety carts, inexperienced drivers, rotten and ill-made harness put on the wrong way, bad roads, reckless driving, and a general total indifference to the safety of life and limb, a journey is always an exciting, and sometimes a risky, experience. A little excitement is all very well; but when it becomes absolutely dangerous, a little of it goes a long way. I dislike seeing a horse's hoofs quite close to my head, with a trace or two trailing in the dust, or to hear the ominous crack of splinter-bar or bolt; yet these are things of daily and hourly occurrence in our bush drives. I must say I was fully confirmed in my opinion that driving was more dangerous than riding when the hunt commenced. A man in scarlet went first with a little bag of aniseed, and was followed by about 150 people on foot, and as many more either on horseback or in vehicles. The drag was so arranged that many of the jumps could be seen from a ridge near. The clever way in which little horses of all sorts and kinds, well bred and underbred, with all sorts of weights on their backs, jumped high timber fences without touching them, was wonderful to behold. Some of the obstacles were even worse than timber, for they were made of four wires stretched between timber posts with a solid rail at top. The last fence of all, after twenty minutes' run through a fairly heavy country, measured four feet two; and yet not a horse out of the fifty or sixty who jumped it even touched it in the least. I noticed that one or two of the riders were very careless of the hounds, who had to crouch under the fences until the horses had jumped over them. Afterwards I drove with the children to 'The Olives,' a pretty house with a lovely garden, full of fragrant violets, where a large party was assembled to meet us at tea.