There was some anxious discussion between King and Flinders as to the
best course to follow for the expeditious completion of the survey of the
coasts of Australia. The Investigator being no longer fit for the
service, consideration was given to the qualifications of the Lady
Nelson, the Porpoise, the Francis, and the Buffalo, all of which were
under the Governor's direction. King was most willing to give his
concurrence and assistance in any plan that might be considered
expedient. He confessed himself convinced of Flinders' "zealous
perseverance in wishing to complete the service you have so beneficially
commenced," and cheerfully placed his resources at the explorer's
disposal.
Flinders went for a few days to the Hawkesbury settlement, where fresh
air, a vegetable diet and medical care promoted his recovery from the
ailments occasioned by prolonged ship-life in the tropics; and on his
return, at the beginning of July, determined upon a course of action. The
Porpoise was the best of the four vessels mentioned, but she was by no
means a sound ship, and it did not seem justifiable to incur the expense
of fitting her for special service only to find her incapable of
finishing the task. It was determined, therefore, that she should be sent
to England under Fowler's command, and that Flinders should go in her as
a passenger, in order that he might lay his charts and journals before
the Admiralty, and solicit the use of another vessel to continue his
explorations. Brown, the botanist,* and Bauer, the botanical draftsman.
desired to remain in Port Jackson to pursue their scientific work, but
Westall accompanied Flinders, who with twenty-one of the remainder of the
Investigator's company, embarked on the Porpoise. (* Brown, in the
preface to his Prodromus (which, being intended for the elect, was
written in Latin), made but one allusion to the discovery voyage whereby
his botanical researches became possible. Dealing with the parts of
Australia where he had collected his specimens, he spoke of the south
coast, "Oram meridionalem Novae Hollandiae, a promontorio Lewin ad
promontorium Wilson in Freto Bass, complectentem Lewin's Land, Nuyt's
Land et littora Orientem versus, a Navarcho Flinders in expeditione cui
adjunctus fui, primum explorata, et paulo post a navigantibus Gallicis
visa: insulis adjacentibus inclusis.") She sailed on August 10th, in
company with the East India Company's ship Bridgewater and the Cato, of
London, both bound for Batavia. It was intended to go north, and through
Torres Strait, in order that further observations might be made there;
and Fowler was ordered to proceed "by the route Captain Flinders may
indicate." Had not Flinders been so eager to take advantage of this as of
every other opportunity to prosecute his researches--had he sailed by the
Bass Strait and Cape of Good Hope route--the misfortunes that were soon
to come upon him would have been averted. But he deliberately chose the
Torres Strait course, not only because he considered that a quick passage
could be made at that season of the year, but chiefly for the reason that
"it will furnish me with a second opportunity of assuring myself whether
that Strait can or cannot become a safe general passage for ships from
the Pacific into the Indian Ocean."
He was destined to see once again the settlement at Sydney, whence had
radiated the series of his valuable and unsparing researches; but on the
next and final occasion he was "caught in the clutch of circumstance."
His leave-taking in August, 1803, was essentially his farewell; and his
general observations on the country he had served, and which does not
forget the service, are, though brief, full of interest. He had seen the
little town grow from a condition of dependence to one of self-reliance,
few as were the years of his knowledge of it. Part of his early
employment had been to bring provisions to Sydney from abroad. In 1803,
he saw large herds spreading over the country. He saw forests giving way
before the axe, and spreading fields of grain and fruit ripening for the
harvest. The population was increasing, the morale was improving, "and
that energetic spirit of enterprise which characterises Britannia's
children seemed to be throwing out vigorous shoots in this new world." He
perceived the obstacles to progress. The East India Company's charter,
which prohibited trade between Sydney and India and the western coasts of
America, was one of them. Convict labour was another deterrent. But he
had vision, and found in the signs of development which he saw around him
phenomena "highly interesting to the contemplator of the rise of
nations."
Seven days out of Sydney, on August 17th, the Porpoise struck a reef and
was wrecked.
The three vessels were running under easy sail, the Porpoise leading on
what was believed to be a clear course. At half-past nine o'clock at
night the look-out man on the forecastle called out "Breakers ahead."
Aken, the master, who was on watch, immediately ordered the helm to be
put down, but the ship answered slowly. Fowler sprang on deck at once;
but Flinders, who was conversing in the gun-room, had no reason to think
that anything serious had occurred, and remained there some minutes
longer. When he went on deck, he found the ship beyond control among the
breakers, and a minute later she struck a coral reef and heeled over on
her starboard beam ends. "It was," says Seaman Smith, "a dreadful shock."
The reef--now called Wreck Reef--was in latitude 22 degrees 11 minutes
south, longitude 155 degrees 13 minutes east, about 200 miles north-east
of Hervey Bay, and 739 miles north of Sydney.* (* Extract from the
Australia Directory Volume 2 (Published by the Admiralty): "Wreck Reef,
on the central portion of which the ships Porpoise and Cato were wrecked
in 1803, consists of a chain of reefs extending 18 1/2 miles and includes
5 sand cays; Bird Islet, the easternmost, is the only one known to
produce any vegetation. Of the other four bare cays none are more than
130 yards in extent, or exceed six feet above high water; they are at
equal distances apart of about four miles, and each is surrounded by a
reef one to one and a half miles in diameter. The passages between these
reefs are about two miles wide...On the northern side of most of them
there is anchorage.") The wind was blowing fresh, and the night was very
dark. The heave of the sea lifted the vessel and dashed her on the coral
a second and third time; the foremast was carried away, and the bottom
was stove in. It was realised at once that so lightly built and unsound a
ship as the Porpoise was must soon be pounded to pieces under the
repeated shocks.
Anxiety for the safety of the Cato and the Bridgewater was felt, as they
were following the lead of the King's vessel. An attempt was made to fire
a gun to warn them, but the heavy surf and the violent motion of the
wrecked ship prevented this being done. Before any warning could be given
the Cato dashed upon the coral about two cables' length from the
Porpoise, whose company saw her reel, fall over, and disappear from view.
The Bridgewater happily cleared the reef.
After the first moments of confusion had passed, Flinders ordered the
cutter and the gig to be launched. He informed Fowler that he intended to
save his charts and journals, and to row to the Bridgewater to make
arrangements for the rescue of the wrecked people. The gig, in which he
attempted to carry out this plan, was compelled to lie at a little
distance from the ship, to prevent being stove in; so he jumped overboard
and swam to her. She leaked badly, and there was nothing with which to
bale her out but the hats and shoes of the ship's cook and two other men
who had taken refuge under the thwarts. Flinders steered towards the
Bridgewater's lights, but she was standing off, and it was soon seen to
be impossible to reach her. It was also unsafe to return to the Porpoise
through the breakers in the darkness; so that the boat was kept on the
water outside the reef till morning, the small party on board being
drenched, cold under a sharp south-easter, and wretchedly miserable.
Flinders did his best to keep up their spirits, telling them that they
would undoubtedly be rescued by the Bridgewater at daylight; but he
occupied his own mind in devising plans for saving the wrecked company in
case help from that ship was not forthcoming.
Meanwhile blue lights had been burnt on the ship every half-hour, as a
guide to the Bridgewater, whose lights were visible till about two
o'clock in the morning. Fowler also occupied time in constructing a raft
from the timbers, masts and yards of the Porpoise. "Every breast," says
Smith's narrative, "was filled with horror, continual seas dashing over
us with great violence." Of the Cato nothing could be seen. She had
struck, not as the Porpoise had done, with her decks towards the reef,
but opposed to the full force of the lashing sea. Very soon the planks
were torn up and washed away, and the unfortunate passengers and crew
were huddled together in the forecastle, some lashed to timber heads,
others clinging to any available means of support, and to each other,
expecting every moment that the stranded vessel would be broken asunder.
In Smith's expressive words, the people were "hanging in a cluster by
each other on board the wreck, having nothing to take to but the
unmerciful waves, which at this time bore a dreadful aspect."
At dawn, Flinders climbed on to the Porpoise by the help of the fallen
masts. As the light grew, it was seen that about half a mile distant lay
a dry sandbank above high-water mark, sufficiently large to receive the
whole company, with such provisions as could be saved from the ship.
Orders were at once given to remove to this patch, that gave promise of
temporary safety, everything that could be of any service; and the Cato's
company, jumping overboard and swimming through the breakers with the aid
of planks and spars, made for the same spot. All were saved except three
lads, one of whom had been to sea on three or four voyages and was
wrecked on every occasion. "He had bewailed himself through the night as
the persecuted Jonah who carried misfortune wherever he went. He launched
himself upon a broken spar with his captain; but, having lost his hold in
the breakers, was not seen afterwards."
The behaviour of the Bridgewater in these distressing circumstances was
inhuman and discreditable to such a degree as is happily rare in the
history of seamanship. On the day following the wreck (August 18th) it
would have been easy and safe for her captain, Palmer, to bring her to
anchor in one of the several wide and sufficiently deep openings in the
reef, and to take the wrecked people and their stores on board. Flinders
had the gig put in readiness to go off in her, to point out the means of
rescue. A topsail was set up on the highest part of the reef, and a large
blue ensign, with the union downwards, was hoisted to it as a signal of
distress. But Palmer, who saw the signal, paid no heed to it. Having
sailed round the reef, deluding the unfortunates for a while with the
false hope of relief, he stood off and made for Batavia, leaving them to
their fate. Worse still, he acted mendaciously as well as with a
heartless disregard of their plight; for on his arrival at Tellicherry he
sent his third mate, Williams, ashore with an untrue account of the
occurrence, reporting the loss of the Porpoise and Cato, and saying that
he had not only found it impossible to weather the reef, but even had he
done so it would have been too late to render assistance. Williams,
convinced that the crews were still on the reef, and that Palmer's false
account had been sent ashore to excuse his own shameful conduct, and
"blind the people," left his captain's narrative as instructed, but only
"after relating the story as contrary as possible" on his own account. He
told Palmer what he had done, and his action "was the cause of many
words." What kind of words they were can be easily imagined. The result
of Williams' honest independence was in the end fortunate for himself.
Though he left the ship, and forfeited his wages and part of his clothes
by so doing, he saved his own life from drowning. The Bridgewater left
Bombay for London, and was never heard of again. "How dreadful," Flinders
commented, "must have been his reflections at the time his ship was going
down."
On the reef rapid preparations were made for establishing the company in
as much comfort as means would allow, and for provisioning them until
assistance could be procured. They were 94 men "upon a small
uncertainty"--the phrase is Smith's--nearly eight hundred miles from the
nearest inhabited port. But they had sufficient food for three months,
and Flinders assured them that within that time help could be procured.
Stores were landed, tents were made from the sails and put up, and a
proper spirit of discipline was installed, after a convict-sailor had
been promptly punished for disorderly conduct. Spare clothing was served
out to some of the Cato's company who needed it badly, and there was some
fun at the expense of a few of them who appeared in the uniforms of the
King's navy. With good humour came a feeling of hope. "On the fourth
day," wrote Flinders in a letter,* "each division of officers and men had
its private tent, and the public magazine contained sufficient provisions
and water to subsist us three months. We had besides a quantity of other
things upon the bank, and our manner of living and working had assumed
the same regularity as on board His Majesty's ships. I had to punish only
one man, formerly a convict at Port Jackson; and on that occasion I
caused the articles of war to be read, and represented the fatal
consequences that might ensue to our whole community from any breach of
discipline and good order, and the certainty of its encountering
immediate punishment." (* Flinders' Papers.)
The stores available,* with the periods for which they would suffice on
full allowance, consisted of:
Biscuit, 940 pounds and Flour, 9644 pounds : 83 days.
Beef in four pounds, 1776 pieces and Pork in two pounds, 592 pieces : 94
days.
Pease, 45 bushels : 107 days.
Oatmeal, 50 bushels : 48 days.
Rice, 1225 pounds : 114 days.
Sugar, 320 pounds and Molasses, 125 pounds : 84 days.
Spirits, 225 gallons, Wine, 113 gallons and Porter, 60 gallons : 49 days.
Water, 5650 gallons at half a gallon per day.
(* Sydney Gazette, September 18th, 1803.)
In addition there were some sauer kraut, essence of malt, vinegar, salt,
a new suit of sails, some spars, a kedge anchor, iron-work and an
armourer's forge, canvas, twine, various small stores, four-and-a-half
barrels of gunpowder, two swivels, and several muskets and pistols, with
ball and flints. A few sheep were also rescued. When they were being
driven on to the reef under the supervision of young John Franklin, they
trampled over some of Westall's drawings. Their hoof-marks are visible on
one of the originals, preserved in the Royal Colonial Institute Library,
to this day.
As soon as the colony on the reef had been regularly established, a
council of officers considered the steps most desirable to be taken to
secure relief. It was resolved that Flinders should take the largest of
the Porpoise's two six-oar cutters, with an officer and crew, and make
his way to Port Jackson, where the aid of a ship might be obtained. The
enterprise was hazardous at that season of the year. The voyage would in
all probability have to be undertaken in the teeth of strong southerly
winds, and the safe arrival of the cutter, even under the direction of so
skilful a seaman as Flinders, was the subject of dubious speculation. But
something had to be done, and that promptly; and Flinders unhesitatingly
undertook the attempt. He gave directions for the government of the reef
during his absence, and ordered that two decked boats should be built by
the carpenters from wreckage, so that in the event of his failure the
whole company might be conveyed to Sydney.
By the 25th August the cutter had been prepared for her long voyage, and
on the following day she was launched and appropriately named the Hope.
It was a Friday morning, and some of the sailors had a superstitious
dread of sailing on a day supposed to be unlucky. But the weather was
fine and the wind light. Flinders laughed at those who talked of luck.
With Captain Park of the Cato as his assistant officer, and a double set
of rowers, fourteen persons in all, he set out at once. He carried three
weeks' provisions. "All hands gave them 3 chears, which was returned by
the boat's crew," says Seaman Smith. At the moment when the Hope rowed
away a sailor sprang to the flagstaff whence the signal of distress had
been flying since the morning when help from the Bridgewater had been
hoped for, and hauled down the blue ensign, which was at once rehoisted
with the union in the upper canton. "This symbolic expression of contempt
for the Bridgewater and of confidence in the success of our voyage, I did
not see without lively emotion," Flinders relates.
Leaving the Hope to continue her brave course, we may learn from Smith
how the 80 men remaining on the reef occupied themselves:
"From this time our hands are imployd, some about our new boat, whose
keel is laid down 32 feet; others imployd in getting anything servisible
from the wreck. Our gunns and carriadges we got from the wreck and placed
them in a half moon form, close to our flag staf, our ensign being dayly
hoisted union downward. Our boats sometimes is imployd in going to an
island about ten miles distant; and sometimes caught turtle and fish.
This island was in general sand. Except on the highest parts, it produced
sea spinage; very plentifully stockd with birds and egs. In this manner
the hands are imployd and the month of October is set in. Still no acct.
of our Captn's success. Our boat likewise ready for launching, the
rigging also fitted over her masthead, and had the appearance of a rakish
schooner. On the 4th of Octr. we launchd her and gave her name of the
Hope.* (* Smith was in error. The boat built at the reef was named the
Resource. The Hope, as stated above, was the cutter in which Flinders
sailed from the reef to Sydney. See A Voyage to Terra Australis 2 315 and
329.) On the 7th we loaded her with wood in order to take it over to the
island before mentiond to make charcoal for our smith to make the
ironwork for the next boat, which we intend to build directly. She
accordingly saild."
A letter by John Franklin to his father* gives an entertaining account of
the wreck and of some other points pertaining to our subject (*
Manuscript, Mitchell Library.):
"Providential Bank, August 26th, 1803,
"Latitude 22 degrees 12 minutes, longitude 155 degrees 13 minutes
(nearly) east.
"Dear Father,
"Great will be your surprise and sorrow to find by this that the late
investigators are cast away in a sandy patch of about 300 yards long and
200 broad, by the wreck of H.M.S. Porpoise on our homeward bound passage
on the reefs of New South Wales. You will then wonder how we came into
her. I will explain: The Investigator on her late voyage, was found when
surveying the Gulf of Carpentaria to be rotten, which obliged us to make
our best way to Port Jackson; but the bad state of health of our crew
induced Captain Flinders to touch at Timor for refreshment; which being
done he sailed, having several men died on the passage of dysentery. On
our arrival she was surveyed and condemned as being unfit for service.
There being no other ship in Sydney fit to complete her intended voyage,
Governor King determined to send us home in the Porpoise. She sailed
August 10th, 1803, in company with the Bridgewater, extra Indiaman, and
Cato, steering to the north-west intending to try how short a passage
might be made through Torres Straits to England. On Wednesday, 17th, we
fell in with reefs,* (* Cato Islet and reefs.) surveyed them, and kept
our course, until half-past nine, when I was aroused by the cry of
breakers, and before I got on deck the ship struck on the rocks.* (*
Wreck Reef.) Such boats as could be were got out, the masts cut away, and
then followed the horrors of ship-wreck, seas breaking over, men
downcast, expecting the ship every moment to part. A raft of spars was
made, and laid clear, sufficiently large to take the ship's company in
case the ship should part; but as Providence ordained she lasted until
morning, when happy were we to see this sandbank bearing north-west
quarter of a mile. But how horrible on the other hand to see the Cato in
a worse condition than ourselves, the men standing forward shouting for
assistance, but could get none, when their ship was parting. All except
three of them committed themselves to the waves, and swam to us, and are
now living on this bank. The Bridgewater appeared in sight, and then in a
most shameful and inhuman manner left us, supposing probably every soul
had perished. Should she make that report on her arrival consider it as
false. We live, we have hopes of reaching Sydney. The Porpoise being a
tough little ship hath, and still does in some measure, resist the power
of the waves, and we have been able to get most of her provisions, water,
spars, carpenter's tools, and every other necessary on the bank,
fortunate spot that it is, on which 94 souls live. Captain Flinders and
his officers have determined that he and fourteen men should go to Port
Jackson in a cutter and fetch a vessel for the remainder; and in the
meantime to build two boats sufficiently large to contain us if the
vessels should not come. Therefore we shall be from this bank in six or
eight weeks, and most probably in England by eight or nine. Our loss was
more felt as we anticipated the pleasure of seeing our friends and
relations after an absence of two years and a half. Let me recommend you
to give yourselves no anxiety, for there is every hope of reaching
England ere long. I received the letters by the Glatton and was sorry to
find that Captain F. had lost his father. He was a worthy man. You would
not dislike to have some account of our last voyage, I suppose. We were
11 months from Sydney, and all that time without fresh meat or
vegetables, excepting when we were at Timor, and now and then some fish,
and mostly in the torrid zone, the sun continually over our head, and the
thermometer at 85, 86, and 89. The ship's company was so weakened by the
immense heat that when we were to the southward they were continually ill
of the dysentery; nay, nine of them died, besides eight we lost on our
last cruise. Thus you see the Investigator's company has been somewhat
shattered since leaving England. Our discoveries have been great, but the
risks and misfortunes many.
"Have you got the prize money? I see it is due, and may be had by
applying at No. 21 Milbank Street, Westminster; due July 22, 1802. If you
do not, it will go to Greenwich Hospital. I had occasion to draw for
necessaries at Sydney this last time 24 pounds from Captain F.
"JOHN FRANKLIN."