During the absence of Bass in the whaleboat, the repairing of the
Reliance was finished, and in February, 1798, Flinders was able to carry
out a bit of exploration on his own account. The making of charts was
employment for which he had equipped himself by study and practice, and
he was glad to secure an opportunity of applying his abilities in a field
where there was original work to do. The schooner Francis (a small vessel
sent out in frame from England for the use of the colonial government,
but now badly decayed) was about to be despatched to the Furneaux
Islands--north-east of Van Diemen's Land, and about 480 miles from
Sydney--to bring to Sydney what remained of the cargo of the wrecked
Sydney Cove, and to rescue a few of the crew who had been left in charge.
Flinders obtained permission from the Governor to embark in the schooner,
"in order to make such observations serviceable to geography and
navigation as circumstances might afford," and instructions were given to
the officer in command to forward this purpose as far as possible.
The circumstances of the wreck that occasioned the cruise of the Francis
were these:--
The Sydney Cove, Captain Guy Hamilton, left Bengal on November 10th,
1796, with a speculative cargo of merchandise for Sydney. Serious
leakages became apparent on the voyage, but the ship made the coast of
New Holland, rounded the southern extremity of Van Diemen's Land, and
stood to the northward on February 1st, 1797. She encountered furious
gales which increased to a perfect hurricane, with a sea described in a
contemporary account as "dreadful." The condition of the hull was so bad
that the pumps could not keep the inrush of water under control, and the
vessel became waterlogged. On February 8th she had five feet of water in
the well, and by midnight the water was up to the lower deck hatches. She
was at daybreak in imminent peril of going to the bottom, so the Captain
headed for Preservation Island (one of the Furneaux Group), sent the
longboat ashore with some rice, ammunition and firearms, and ran her in
until she struck on a sandy bottom in nineteen feet of water. The whole
ship's company was landed safely, tents were rigged up, and as much of
the cargo as could be secured was taken ashore.
It was necessary to communicate with Sydney to procure assistance. The
long-boat was launched, and under the direction of the first mate, Mr.
Hugh Thompson, sixteen of the crew started north on February 28th. But
fresh misfortunes, as cruel as shipwreck and for most of these men more
disastrous, were heaped upon them. They were smitten by a violent storm,
terrific seas broke over the boat, and on the morning of March 2nd she
suddenly shipped enough water to swamp her. The crew with difficulty ran
her through the surf that beat on the coast off which they had been
struggling, and she went to pieces immediately. The seventeen were cast
ashore on the coast of New South Wales, hundreds of miles from the only
settlement, which could only be reached by the crossing of a wild, rough,
and trackless country, inhabited by tribes of savages. They were without
food, their clothing was drenched, and their sole means of defence
consisted of a rusty musket, with very little ammunition, a couple of
useless pistols, and two small swords.
The wretched band commenced their march along the coast northwards on
March 25th. They had to improvise rafts to cross some rivers; once a
party of kindly aboriginals helped them over a stream in canoes; at
another time they encountered blacks who hurled spears at them. They
lived chiefly on small shell-fish. Hunger and exposure brought their
strength very low. On April 16th, after over a month of weary tramping,
nine of the party dropped from fatigue and had to be left behind by their
companions, whose only hope was to push on while sufficient energy
lasted. Two days later, three of the remainder were wounded by blacks. At
last, in May, three only of the seventeen who started on this
heart-breaking struggle for life against distance, starvation and
exhaustion, were rescued, "scarcely alive," by a fishing boat, and taken
to Sydney. The others perished by the way.
Captain Hamilton, who had stayed by his wrecked ship, was rescued in
July, 1797; and, as already stated, in January of the following year,
Governor Hunter fitted out the schooner Francis to bring away a few
Lascar sailors and as much of the remaining cargo as could be saved. "I
sent in the schooner," wrote the Governor in a despatch, "Lieutenant
Flinders of the Reliance, a young man well-qualified, in order to give
him an opportunity of making what observations he could among those
islands." The Francis sailed on February 1st.
The black shadow of the catastrophe that had overtaken the Sydney Cove
crossed the path of the salvage party. The Francis was accompanied by the
ten-ton sloop Eliza, Captain Armstrong. But shortly after reaching the
Furneaux Islands the two vessels were separated in a storm, and the Eliza
went down with all hands. Neither the boat nor any soul of her company
were ever seen or heard of again.
Flinders had only twelve days available for his own work, from February
16th till the 28th, but he made full and valuable use of that time in
exploring, observing and charting. The fruits of his researches were
embodied in a drawing sent to the British Government by Hunter, when he
announced the discovery of Bass Strait later on in 1798. The principal
geographical result was the discovery of the Kent group of islands, which
Flinders named "in honour of my friend" the brave and accomplished
sailor, William Kent, who commanded the Supply.
The biological notes made by Flinders on this expedition are of unusual
interest. Upon the islands he found "Kanguroo" (his invariable spelling
of the word), "womat" (sic), the duck-billed platypus, aculeated
ant-eater, geese, black swan, gannets, shags, gulls, red bills, crows,
parrakeets, snakes, seals, and sooty petrels, a profusion of wild life
highly fascinating in itself, and, in the case of the animals, affording
striking evidence of connection with the mainland at a comparatively
recent period. The old male seals were described as of enormous size and
extraordinary power.
"I levelled my gun at one, which was sitting on the top of a rock with
his nose extended up towards the sun, and struck him with three musket
balls. He rolled over and plunged into the water, but in less than half
an hour had taken his former station and attitude. On firing again, a
stream of blood spouted forth from his breast to some yards distance, and
he fell back senseless. On examination the six balls were found lodged in
his breast; and one, which occasioned his death, had pierced the heart.
His weight was equal to that of a common ox...The commotion excited by
our presence in this assemblage of several thousand timid animals was
very interesting to me, who knew little of their manners. The young cubs
huddled together in the holes of the rocks and moaned piteously; those
more advanced scampered and bowled down to the water with their mothers;
whilst some of the old males stood up in defence of their families until
the terror of the sailors' bludgeons became too strong to be resisted.
Those who have seen a farmyard well stocked with pigs, with their mothers
in it, and have heard them all in tumult together, may form a good idea
of the confusion in connection with the seals at Cone Point. The sailors
killed as many of these harmless and not unamiable creatures as they were
able to skin during the time necessary for me to take the requisite
angles; and we then left the poor affrighted multitude to recover from
the effect of our inauspicious visit."
Flinders' observations upon the sooty petrels, or mutton birds, seen at
the Furneaux Islands, are valuable as forming a very early account of one
of the most remarkable sea-birds in the world:
"The sooty petrel, better known to us under the name of sheerwater,
frequents the tufted grassy parts of all the islands in astonishing
numbers. It is known that these birds make burrows in the ground like
rabbits; that they lay one or two enormous eggs in the holes and bring up
their young there. In the evening they come in from the sea, having their
stomachs filled with a gelatinous substance gathered from the waves, and
this they eject into the throats of their offspring, or retain for their
own nourishment, according to circumstances. A little after sunset the
air at Preservation Island used to be darkened with their numbers, and it
was generally an hour before their squabbling ceased and every one had
found its own retreat. The people of the Sydney Cove had a strong example
of perseverance in these birds. The tents were pitched close to a piece
of ground full of their burrows, many of which were necessarily filled up
from walking constantly over them; yet notwithstanding this interruption
and the thousands of birds destroyed (for they constituted a great part
of their food during more than six months), the returning flights
continued to be as numerous as before; and there was scarcely a burrow
less except in the places actually covered by the tents. These birds are
about the size of a pigeon, and when skinned and smoked we thought them
passable food. Any quantity could be procured by sending people on shore
in the evening. The sole process was to thrust in the arm up to the
shoulder and seize them briskly; but there was some danger of grasping a
snake at the bottom of the burrow instead of a petrel."
The remark that the egg of the sooty petrel is of enormous size is of
course only true relatively to the size of the bird. The egg is about as
large as a duck's egg, but longer and tapering more sharply at one end.
For the rest the description is an excellent one. The wings of the bird
are of great length and strength, giving to it wonderful speed and power
of flight. The colour is coal-black. Flinders saw more of the
sooty-petrel on his subsequent voyage round Tasmania; and it will be
convenient to quote here the passage in which he refers to the prodigious
numbers in which the birds were seen. It may be added that, despite a
century of slaughter by mankind, and after the taking of millions of
eggs--which are good food--the numbers of the mutton-birds are still
incalculably great.* (* The author may refer to a paper of his own, "The
Mutton Birds of Bass Strait," in the Field, April 18, 1903, for a study
of the sooty petrel during the laying season on Phillip Island. An
excellent account of the habits of the bird is given in Campbell's Nests
and Eggs of Australian Birds.) Writing of what he saw off the extreme
north-west of Tasmania in December, 1798, Flinders said:--
"A large flock of gannets was observed at daylight to issue out of the
great bight to the southward; and they were followed by such a number of
sooty petrels as we had never seen equalled. There was a stream of from
fifty to eighty yards in depth and of three hundred yards, or more, in
breadth; the birds were not scattered, but flying as compactly as a free
movement of their wings seemed to allow; and during a full hour and a
half this stream of petrels continued to pass without interruption at a
rate little inferior to the swiftness of a pigeon. On the lowest
computation I think the number could not have been less than a hundred
millions."
He explained how he arrived at this estimate, the reliableness of which
is beyond dispute, though it may seem incredible to those who have not
been in southern seas during the season when the sooty petrels "most do
congregate." Taking the stream of birds to have been fifty yards deep by
three hundred in width, and calculating that it moved at the rate of
thirty miles* an hour, and allowing nine cubic yards for each bird, the
number would amount to 151,500,000. The burrows required to lodge this
number would be 75,750,000, and allowing a square yard to each burrow
they would cover something more than 18 1/2 geographical square miles. (*
Flinders is calculating in nautical miles of 2026 2/3 yards each.)
The mutton-bird, it will therefore be allowed, is the most prolific of
all avian colonists. It has also played some part in the history of human
colonisation. When, in 1790, Governor Phillip sent to Norfolk Island a
company of convicts and marines, and the Sirius, the only means of
carrying supplies, was wrecked, the population, 506 in all, was reduced
to dire distress from want of food. Starvation stared them in the face,
when it was discovered that Mount Pitt was honeycombed with mutton-bird
burrows. They were slain in thousands. "The slaughter and mighty havoc is
beyond description," wrote an officer. "They are very fine eating,
exceeding fat and firm, and I think (though no connoisseur) as good as
any I ever eat." Many people who are not hunger-driven profess to relish
young mutton-bird, whose flesh is like neither fish nor fowl, but an oily
blend of both.
On this cruise Flinders came in sight of Cook's Point Hicks; and his
reference to it has some interest because Bass had missed it; because
Flinders himself did not on any of his other voyages sail close enough
inshore on this part of the coast to observe it, and did not mark it upon
his charts; and because the more recent substitution of the name Cape
Everard for the name given by Cook, makes of some consequence the
allusion of this great navigator to a projection which he saw only once.
The Francis on February 4th "was in 38 degrees 16 minutes and (by
account) 22 minutes of longitude to the west of Point Hicks. The schooner
was kept more northward in the afternoon; at four o'clock a moderately
high sloping hill was visible in the north by west, and at seven a small
rocky point on the beach bore north 50 degrees west three or four
leagues. At some distance inland there was a range of hills with wood
upon them, though scarcely sufficient to hide their sandy surface." That
describes the country near Point Hicks accurately.
The largest island in the Furneaux group, now called Flinders Island, was
not so named by Flinders. He referred to it as "the great island of
Furneaux." Flinders never named any of his discoveries after himself, not
even the smallest rock or cape. Flinders Island in the Bight
(Investigator Group) was named after his brother Samuel.
It is a little curious that no allusion to the useful piece of work done
by Flinders on this cruise was made by the Governor in his despatches.
The omission was not due to lack of appreciation on his part, as the
encouragement subsequently given to Bass and Flinders sufficiently
showed. But it was, in truth, work very well done, with restricted means
and in a very limited time.
The question whether the islands examined lay in a strait or in a deep
gulf was occupying the attention of Flinders at just about the same time
when his friend Bass, in his whaleboat on the north side of the same
stretch of water, was revolving the same problem in his mind. The reasons
given by Furneaux for disbelieving in the existence of a strait did not
satisfy Flinders. The great strength of the tides setting westward could,
in his opinion, only be occasioned by a passage through to the Indian
Ocean, unless the supposed gulf were very deep. There were arguments
tending either way; "the contradictory circumstances were very
embarrassing." Flinders would have liked to use the Francis forthwith to
settle the question; but, as she was commissioned for a particular
service, and not under his command, he had to subjugate his scientific
curiosity to circumstances.
Throughout his brief narrative of this voyage we see displayed the
qualities which distinguish all his original work. Promptness in taking
advantage of opportunities for investigation, careful and
cautiously-checked observations, painstaking accuracy in making
calculations, terse and dependable geographical description, and a fresh
quick eye for noting natural phenomena: these were always characteristics
of his work. He recorded what he saw of bird and animal with the same
care as he noted nautical facts. We may take his paragraph on the wombat
as an example. Bass was much interested in the wombats he saw, and with
his surgeon's anatomical knowledge gave a description of it which the
contemporary historian, Collins, quoted, enunciating the opinion that
"Bass's womb-bat seemed to be very oeconomically made"--whatever that may
mean. Flinders' description, which must be one of the earliest accounts
of the creature, is true:
"Clarke's Island afforded the first specimen of the new animal, called
wombat. This little bear-like quadruped is known in New South Wales, and
is called by the natives womat, wombat, or womback, according to the
different dialects--or perhaps to the different rendering of the
wood-rangers who brought the information. It does not quit its retreat
till dark; but it feeds at all times on the uninhabited islands, and was
commonly seen foraging amongst the sea refuse on the shore, though the
coarse grass seemed to be its usual nourishment. It is easily caught when
at a distance from its burrow; its flesh resembles lean mutton in taste,
and to us was acceptable food."
The original manuscript containing Flinders' narrative of the expedition
to the Furneaux Islands is in the Melbourne Public Library. It is a
beautiful manuscript, 22 quarto pages, neat and regular, every letter
perfect, every comma and semi-colon in place: a portrait in calligraphy
of its author.