CHAPTER 7.

Cross the Gulf of Carpentaria, and resume the survey of the North Coast

at Wessel's Islands.

Castlereagh Bay.

Crocodile Islands.

Discovery and examination of Liverpool River.

Natives.

Arrive at Goulburn Island.

Complete wood and water.

Attacked by the natives from the cliffs.

Leave Goulburn Island, and pass round Cape Van Diemen.

Resume the survey of the coast at Vernon's Islands in Clarence Strait.

Paterson Bay.

Peron Island.

Anson Bay.

Mr. Roe examines Port Keats.

Prevented from examining a deep opening round Point Pearce.

Discovery of Cambridge Gulf.

Lacrosse Island.

Natives.

Examination of the Gulf.

Death of one of the crew.

Leave Cambridge Gulf.

Trace the coast to Cape Londonderry.

1819. July 26.

On our voyage from Torres Strait to the western head of the Gulf of

Carpentaria, which is Cape Arnhem, no incident occurred of sufficient

interest to be worth recording; but no sooner had we passed Torres Strait

than a very sensible difference was perceived in the temperature: the

thermometer was observed to range between 75 and 83 degrees, which was

about 3 degrees higher than it did on the south side of the Strait; this

change produced a drier air and finer weather and soon restored our

invalids to perfect health.

July 27.

Soon after daylight on the 27th Wessel's Islands, which had been seen the

preceding evening, were descried bearing from West-North-West to

South-West by West; and shortly afterwards lower land was observed more

to the northward, towards the extremity of which we steered.

The eastern side of Wessel's Islands presents a level aspect; only a few

shrubby trees appear at intervals to break the uniformity of its gently

undulating outline. The point, which is named Cape Wessel, is the

extremity of the northernmost island of the group and is separated from

that to the southward of it by a narrow and apparently a rocky strait.

On approaching within a mile and a half of the Cape we passed through a

strong rippling tide without having soundings with fifteen fathoms. Six

natives were seen sitting on the verge of the cliffs that overhang the

Cape, watching us as we passed; and farther on two more were observed

walking on the beach. On the west side of the Cape is a small sandy bay

in which there appeared to be good anchorage.

In passing this bay we fell into another strong tide race, in which the

sea curled and foamed about us as if we were in the midst of breakers;

but, as before, no bottom was found with fifteen fathoms. The water was

very thick, from the mud being stirred up by the violence of the tide,

which must have been setting at the rate of three miles and a half per

hour; for we were going nearly five knots by the log, and yet made

scarcely any way: we were therefore obliged to steer more off, to get out

of the influence of the tide, which proved to be the ebb setting to the

North-East.

By a meridional observation at noon the latitude of the Cape was found to

be 10 degrees 59 1/4 minutes, which is 19 minutes more northerly than the

land which bounded Captain Flinders' view when he passed by in the

Cumberland. The breadth of these islands is very inconsiderable; for as

we sailed down their western coast the cliffs on their opposite sides

were occasionally discerned; and at one part half a mile appeared to be

the greatest breadth. The low and sandy character of the western sides of

these islands differs much from that of the opposite shore, where the

coastline is formed by steep rocky cliffs whose bases are washed by the

sea. The night was passed at anchor.

July 28.

And the next morning the cutter was, with the assistance of the flood

tide, making quick progress to the southward.

At noon we were abreast of the opening through which Captain Flinders

passed; it was called Cumberland Strait, after his little vessel. At one

o'clock some islands came in sight to the westward of our course

(South-West 1/2 South) between which and the range of Wessel's Islands I

intended to pass; but after standing on for some distance through the

channel against a strong tide setting at the rate of three miles and a

half per hour, it was perceived that the opening formed a communication

with Arnhem Bay. Being convinced of the fact we tacked and passed round

the northernmost extremity of the western range of islands, for doing

which we had nearly paid dear; a strong rippling was perceived to extend

for three miles off the point; but as it appeared to be occasioned by the

tide setting round it we stood on with the intention of going through

them. Near their edge soundings were suddenly obtained with nine fathoms

and successive casts decreased the depth to six, five, and three and

three-quarters fathoms; the helm was put a-lee to return but the wind at

the same moment dying away, the vessel became ungovernable, and was

drifted over the spit; fortunately however we found sufficient depth to

prevent striking. As soon as the danger was passed the water deepened to

nine, and in a few heaves we found no bottom with thirteen fathoms; the

night was passed at anchor.

July 29.

And the next morning we resumed our course to the southward in a parallel

direction with the coast; at noon our observation proved that the rocky

islets round which we passed last evening were those off Captain

Flinders' Point Dale. There was however an error of ten miles in the

latitude, which was so unusual an occurrence in the charts of that

navigator that for some time I doubted the justice of my suspicions; but

on referring to the account of his voyage it appeared that no meridional

observation was obtained by him for the latitude near this channel; and

also that the weather when he passed through was thick and cloudy. This

error therefore, when he was unassisted by an observation for his

latitude in a place where the tide sets at the rate of three or four

knots, did not appear at all improbable; and as my conjectures by

comparing our respective plans were soon afterwards confirmed, we hauled

in for the extremity of the land in sight.

The Strait to the eastward of Point Dale I have named after my friend

Robert Brown, Esquire, the profound botanist of that voyage.

In the evening we anchored about three miles from a low rocky island;

beyond which is an opening like a rivulet, but it was so inconsiderable

in appearance that I was not induced to examine it farther.

July 30.

The next evening we anchored at the bottom of a bay and inside of a group

of islands which appear to be the Crocodils Eylandts of the old charts.

The bay was called after the late Viscount Castlereagh, then Secretary of

State for the Foreign Department. Two or three small openings that were

noticed at the bottom of the bay are probably the embouchures of as many

rivulets. This part of the country is low and of uninteresting aspect;

dwarf timber appears to pervade the summits of the land near the coast,

and of so level an outline that it bears a strong resemblance to a

clipped hedge.

July 31.

At daylight we were enveloped in a dense fog which nearly concealed the

land; but on weighing two conspicuous points were set, by which I was

enabled to connect my survey. Soon afterwards the fog spread so thickly

over us that the land was entirely concealed; and as the water was shoal

we were obliged to anchor until the fog cleared off, when we again got

under weigh and ascertained the form of the south-west corner of the bay;

it is of very shoal approach: our anchorage at night was not more than

four miles and a half to the north-east of that of the evening before.

1819. August 1.

The next day we attempted to steer to sea between the islands but our

course was interrupted by a reef which connected the islets on either

side of us; being thus embayed, we were obliged to anchor, but as the

wind was light no danger was anticipated. Mr. Roe was sent in a boat to

sound about our anchorage: on his return he reported the water to be of

tolerably even depth, excepting to the southward where there was a spit,

on which the least water was four and three quarters fathoms, beyond

which it deepened again.

As the night advanced, the wind freshened from the South-East and

rendered our situation extremely unsafe. When the tide made against the

wind the swell rose and caused our only remaining anchor to drag; more

cable was instantly veered; but as the vessel did not bring up and we

were drifting towards the reef no alternative was left but to weigh and

keep under sail; which, during a long and dark night, and near so

extensive a reef, was running great risk. Our loss of anchors was now

much felt for no sooner were we under sail than the wind died away; and

from the heavy swell the cutter was so ungovernable that the vessel twice

missed stays in endeavouring to tack in shoal water; fortunately the

water deepened again on standing on, or nothing could have prevented our

going on shore. After plying to windward for an hour the weather tide

ceased; when the disadvantage of a lee tide was counterbalanced by

smoother water and a steadier breeze. We passed a very anxious night, but

without encountering any accident.

August 2.

With daybreak the breeze freshened; and at noon we were near the small

easternmost islet of the group. The afternoon was passed in steering

round the northern side of the island; but before sunset we had to alter

the course twice for shoal water, being at one time within half a mile of

a reef that was nearly dry.

During this night the cutter was kept under weigh.

August 3.

And at daylight was considerably to the westward of our reckoning from

the effect of a current. The land to the westward of the Crocodile

Islands trends deeply in, forming a bay in which two low wooded islands

were noticed. As we steered into it the water shoaled; and as there was

nothing to induce our persevering we steered round the next point of

land, and anchored at sunset to leeward of a shoal projecting in a

North-West direction from the point. The coast falls back round this

point and forms an unsheltered bay seven or eight miles deep.

August 4.

The following morning our course was held parallel with the shores of the

bay towards a point of land which afterwards proved to be the eastern

head of a deep opening.

To the northward of this point was an island and farther on to seaward a

dry sandbank. As we approached the point we were obliged to haul off for

there was evidently a shoal communication between it and the island, and

every appearance of its being connected with the sandbank in the offing.

The dark colour of the water on the other side of this line of

communication induced me to stand round the sandbank; when, as was

expected, we entered a deep channel leading towards the most distant

parts of the bight, which afterwards turned out to be the mouth of a

river. The sandbank was called Haul-round Islet and the island Entrance

Island. In passing between the latter and a reef on the western side of

the channel, about half or three-quarters of a mile from the shore, we

had fourteen fathoms mud; after which it gradually decreased in depth;

having reached the mouth of the river we anchored in three fathoms about

four miles within Entrance Island. The remainder of the day, which was

far advanced, was spent in making preparations for our examination of the

river; at low water the tide had fallen ten feet and the cutter took the

ground; but as it was on soft mud it was of little consequence.

August 5.

The following morning as soon as the ebb tide ceased I left the cutter in

a boat, accompanied by Messrs. Bedwell and Cunningham, and proceeded up

the river. The banks on either side were, for ten or twelve miles, so

thickly and impenetrably lined with very large mangroves as to defy all

attempts of landing; above this these trees were less abundant and the

banks were occasionally clear from fifty to two hundred yards in extent;

however the view thus obtained did not impress us with any flattering

idea of the country at the back. On passing the second open bank we

observed a canoe hauled up on the shore, and at a little distance farther

we saw another; these were the first indications we had observed of the

presence of natives, excepting the large fires that were burning a little

way in from the banks.

At the next open bank on the eastern side we put ashore to give the

boat's crew an opportunity of getting their dinner, and as we landed I

discharged my fowling-piece at some birds; upon ascending the bank we

found that the report of the gun had alarmed four natives, two of whom

were females with children on their backs; they were retreating in haste

towards a smoke, the fire of which was concealed from us by high grass:

as soon as they reached the fire they stopped and began to call out in

loud shrill tones, when they were soon surrounded by twenty-five natives

who immediately commenced hallooing and shouting to us in a menacing way;

after some consultation two of them advanced armed with spears; upon

which I ordered a musket to be brought from the boat, which was concealed

from their view by the bank of the river; seeing this the Indians stopped

and retreated to their party, who immediately set up a yell of loud and

angry cries accompanied with the most furious gesticulations. As the tide

was still flowing and I was not very anxious to communicate with these

people, from whose neighbours at Goulburn Island we had already

experienced much treachery, and who, if inclined to be quarrelsome,

might, from the small breadth of the river, considerably annoy and impede

our farther progress, we re-embarked and proceeded up the river under the

momentary expectation of either seeing or hearing them at every bend and

open bank; we were not, however, molested; and at sunset, as we had

reached a considerable distance from their encampment, and had not seen

any alligators, we landed to pass the night upon the shore, and soon

pitched our tent. We had, however, no sooner refreshed and composed

ourselves to rest than we were alarmed by a loud shout, and upon

listening attentively it was again heard. It was now our firm opinion

that we had landed in the vicinity of another tribe, who upon seeing our

fire had alarmed their companions.

The muskets were therefore placed in readiness and a watch set to give

our party warning if they approached. In the middle of the night the

noise was again heard, but upon being repeated several times it was

discovered that we had been deceived by the screams of a bird whose note

exactly resembled the human cry. Our fears of being attacked by the

natives being now dispelled, our party composed themselves again to rest,

but without obtaining any sleep in consequence of the immense swarms of

mosquitoes, which buzzing about in incredible numbers were not to be kept

from stinging us by any measures we could devise. The tent was very soon

deserted and many other places were tried in vain; the only method at all

successful, by which some respite was obtained, was by lying upon the

ground within two feet of the blaze of the fire; the heat and smoke of

which, with the danger of our clothes catching fire, were insignificant

inconveniences compared with the mosquitoes' stings; and those only who

placed themselves in this situation obtained a few hours' sleep.

August 6.

At daylight, begrimed with dirt and smoke, we re-embarked, and pulled

five miles further up the river, when its further examination was given

up; at this place its breadth was about twenty yards, and being high

water the greatest depth was twelve feet; at low water the channel must

be nearly dry. We did not reach the cutter until six o'clock in the

evening, much exhausted for want of rest, and from exposure to a powerful

sun, and a hot land wind that prevailed all day.

This river, which I have named the Liverpool, runs up from a well-formed

port about forty miles, taking in its way a very serpentine course; its

breadth at Entrance Island is about four miles; ten miles from the mouth

its width is about half a mile, after which it very gradually decreases;

at about fourteen miles from our anchorage the water is fresh at half

tide but at low water it might probably be obtained four or five miles

lower down. The bottom is muddy as are also the banks; and in consequence

the latter are only accessible at high tide, at which time they are

seldom more than two or three feet above the water's edge. The country

within is very level, and appeared during the wet season to be

occasionally inundated: the soil where we landed is a sour stiff clay on

which grew an arundinaceous grass.

At one place where the bank was about fifteen feet high and formed of red

clay Mr. Cunningham landed, and collected a variety of interesting

plants. The open banks of the river were covered with salicorniae and

other common chenopodeae; and, in the midst of the usual assemblage of

rhizophoreae, the Avicennia tomentosa, Linn. was observed of remarkable

growth, being in many parts from fifty to sixty feet high, three feet in

diameter at the base, and of a straight tapering poplar shape.

Fish was plentiful and on the muddy banks, as the water fell, we saw

myriads of small amphibious fishes skipping about: they are probably of

the same kind as those seen by Captain Cook at Thirsty Sound and by

Captain Flinders at Keppel Bay,* on the east coast. Captain Cook

describes the species he saw to be a small fish, about the size of a

minnow, furnished with two very strong breast fins, by the assistance of

which it leaped away upon being approached, as nimbly as a frog. The fish

I have just noticed appeared to be of a very similar description,

excepting that it did not seem to avoid the water as that of Thirsty

Sound; for Captain Cook says in a subsequent paragraph that it preferred

the land to water; for it frequently leaped out of the sea, and pursued

its way upon dry ground, and chose rather to leap from stone to stone

than pass through the puddles of water in its way.**

(*Footnote. Flinders Terra Australis volume 2 page 26.)

(**Footnote. Hawkesworth volume 3 page 125.)

The egret that we had seen last voyage in the Alligator River was also

seen here; and white cockatoos were in large flights, but hawks were

unusually rare. The bird, called by the colonists at Port Jackson the

native companion (Ardea antigone, Linn.) was seen where the natives were.

As we returned several alligators swam past the boat; but they were

neither so large nor so numerous as those of the Alligator Rivers; the

largest not being more than twelve or thirteen feet long. Upon seeing

these monsters we congratulated ourselves on our escape, for had we known

of their existence in this river before we passed the night on its bank,

the danger of being surprised by the natives and the stings of the

mosquitoes would have dwindled into insignificance in comparison with the

presence of such voracious animals. On our return down the river a snake

was seen about five feet long, of a light red colour, but it escaped by

gliding into the long matted grass.

August 7.

On the 7th we left the river and proceeded to the westward; round Point

Hawkesbury the land falls back extending first in a south-west, and then

in a west-north-west direction, until it was lost to our view behind a

point, which we afterwards discovered to be the Point Braithwaite of our

last voyage, the land of which had the appearance of being an island.

The bay thus formed was called Junction Bay; it was not examined, but,

from the direction of its trend, did not appear likely to afford much

interest, and could lead to no opening of importance.

August 8.

At eight o'clock the next morning we were near Goulburn Island, steering

through Macquarie Strait; and at eleven o'clock we anchored in South-west

Bay, near our former watering-place.

As soon as the vessel was secured I went on shore to examine whether

water could be obtained. In this object we were successful; and a basin

was dug to receive the water that drained through the cliffs; but, from

the advanced state of the dry season, it did not flow in half the

quantity that it did last year. The vegetation appeared to have suffered

much from drought and the grass, which at our last visit was long and

luxuriant, was now either parched up by the sun or destroyed by the

natives' fires, which at this time were burning on the low land in front

of Wellington Range.

In the evening I went to Bottle Rock, but found our bottle had been

removed; the rocks were covered with the eggs of terns, of which the

boat's crew collected eight dozen. On our return to the cutter a turtle

was noticed swimming towards the sandy beach at the north end of the bay,

which induced me to send a boat's crew on shore to watch its landing, but

in this they were unsuccessful. At their return at night they reported

having seen the recent marks of natives and of a dog on the beach.

August 9.

The following morning Mr. Bedwell went with a watering party to the

shore; the tide had however reached the hole, and spoilt what had been

collected during the night: after cleaning the hole again he visited our

last year's wooding-place where he found some remains of our cuttings;

but the greater part had been burnt. On his return to the watering-place

the well was full, and the party commenced their occupation: they had

however scarcely been twenty minutes employed before a shower of large

stones was thrown down upon them by a party of natives who suddenly

appeared on the verge of the cliff; but as suddenly retreated upon a

volley of muskets being fired over their heads from our boat, which we

had previously taken the precaution of mooring off the shore as we had

done last year. After this our people continued their work without being

further molested although many other attacks were premeditated by the

natives during the day, they having once or twice approached near the

verge of the cliffs; but their courage forsook them before they were

sufficiently near to throw either spears or stones with effect. A flag

was always hoisted on board whenever they were observed advancing, which

prepared our people on the beach to give them a reception. This signal

was certainly noticed by the natives, for they always stopped short the

moment it was displayed.

The run of water was so trifling that we could not procure more than from

sixty to one hundred gallons per day, for while the high tides lasted the

well in the morning was always found full of salt water. This

inconvenience did not occur last year because it was not found necessary

to dig a hole, the stream being of itself sufficiently abundant for our

purpose.

August 10 to 16.

The delay however was not lost, inasmuch as it gave an opportunity of

finding new rates for the watches, as well as of obtaining a set of lunar

observations for the longitude.

On the 13th Mr. Bedwell went to Sims' Island for turtle but no recent

tracks were observed, excepting the remains of one that had a week before

furnished a repast to the natives. Near to this place were found

disinterred some of the bones of a human body that had been buried in a

grave close by, not longer than two or three months since. The footsteps

of the followers of the body to the grave were still visible in the sand,

but other steps appeared to have been more recently impressed; which must

have been those of the natives, who had dug the body up either from a

motive of curiosity or revenge.

I cannot account for the absence of many of the bones of the skeleton

unless the natives are cannibals, of which we have hitherto neither had

proofs nor entertained the least suspicion; dogs or birds may certainly

have carried them off, or the natives themselves may have removed them as

trophies or as evidences of their discovery to their companions on the

main. From the quantity of bamboo which was found scattered about the

spot there was every reason to conclude it was the grave of a Malay; and

according to the time of the Malay fleet's passing these islands last

year, they would at this time have quitted it about three months, which

will nearly agree with the appearance of the bones and the grave. On

returning on board our party brought a great quantity of the bulbous

roots of a crinum which grows abundantly among the rocks on Sims' Island.

August 17.

On the 17th our wood and water were embarked; the former having been

obtained from the verge of the cliff immediately over the watering-place

and thrown over, was readily conveyed to the boats. When our party first

mounted the cliffs a throwing stick, a broken spear, and some stones were

found that had evidently been left by the natives in their hasty retreat

when the muskets were fired: the spear was made of the mangrove tree,

hardened and made straight by exposing it to fire; and the throwing

stick, of hard wood, probably either of eucalyptus or casuarina; the

latter weapon was only two feet in length, and not near so large or long

as that used by the natives of Endeavour River. After the first day the

natives did not make their appearance; the smoke of their fires was

however observed over the south point of the island, about two miles off;

but notwithstanding the undisturbed manner in which our occupations

advanced, it was found necessary to keep an armed party always ready, for

there was no doubt that we were narrowly watched and the first unguarded

moment would have been taken advantage of by them for our annoyance, if

not to our loss. This precaution prevented my improving my last year's

survey of the main coast; and as there did not exist any good reason to

attach much importance to the sinuosities of the coast hereabout we did

not remain at this anchorage after our wooding and watering were

completed, from an anxiety to reach those parts which we had not yet

seen, and where we might expect a better chance of finding something of

greater interest.

Mr. Cunningham was confined to the vessel during our stay by a serious

attack of jaundice brought on by the fatiguing examination of Liverpool

River.

The weather during our stay was throughout fine. A breeze usually sprung

up at daylight from South-East; and by noon veered to and blew fresh from

East, sometimes reaching North-East, from which quarter it was generally

strongest; as sunset approached the wind usually died away, and before

dark it was quite calm and continued so until the morning. The

temperature was much lower than we expected to find it, the thermometer

ranging only between 75 and 84 degrees; so that during the day, while the

sea breeze lasted, the heat was not at all oppressive.

August 18.

We left South-West Bay on the 18th at daybreak; but from light airs made

so little progress that it was not until the following afternoon that we

passed between McCluer's and New Year's Islands; between the latter and

Oxley's Island we passed over two coral banks, separated from each other

by a deep channel. On the easternmost bank were nine fathoms, but on the

other we found overfalls between five and seven fathoms. A native's fire

that was burning on Oxley's Island served to fix the position of this

last bank.

August 19.

The next morning we were off Cape Croker and at noon were passing Port

Essington; the projecting heads of which, at the distance of four or five

leagues, have the appearance of being two small islands, for the land at

the back and on either side is too low to be seen. Between Port Essington

and Cape Van Diemen we steered so as to see several parts of the coast of

Melville Island in order to compare their relative meridional distances

with those of last year's survey.

August 22.

The latter projection, which is the western limit of the north coast,

came in sight on the evening of the 22nd when its longitude was found to

be 130 degrees 19 minutes 33 seconds, which is 1 minute 2 seconds to the

westward of last year's observation; the mean therefore may be considered

as its true longitude, which is 130 degrees 20 minutes 30 seconds.

At sunset we were eleven miles from the Cape, bearing South 67 1/2

degrees West.

August 23.

And the next morning it was seen in the South-South-East. After rounding

it a course was steered down the western side of Bathurst Island.

August 26.

But it took us until the 26th before we passed Cape Fourcroy.

August 27.

On the following evening we made the land on the south side of Clarence

Strait in the vicinity of Vernon's Islands: this was the last land seen

by us on leaving the coast in May, 1818.

Between Goulburn Island and this part we had a succession of light

baffling winds, with sultry, damp, and hazy weather, which proved very

unfavourable for our sick, the number of whom was increasing. Mr. Bedwell

was confined to his bed with a serious attack of dysentery, occasioned by

exposure to the sun whilst superintending the shore parties at Goulburn

Island; and the greater part of the crew were affected with ophthalmia,

probably occasioned by the excessive glare and reflection of the sun's

rays from the calm glassy surface of the sea.

August 28.

At daylight on the 28th we found ourselves near the land to the

south-west of Vernon's Islands, which also were in sight. To the south

was a deep opening trending to the south-east of a river-like appearance;

but, as it did not seem to be of sufficient importance to detain us, we

passed on to the westward.

The land hereabouts is low and thickly wooded to the brink of the deep

red-coloured cliffs that form the projecting heads of the coast; the wood

near the sea had not the appearance of being of large growth; but the

abundance and the verdure of the trees gave this part a pleasing and

picturesque character. At the bottom of the opening was a remarkable

flat-topped hill under which the waters of the inlet appeared to flow in

a south-east direction. The entrance may possibly form a convenient port,

for there was no appearance of shoal water near it. The land which forms

its westernmost head appeared at first like an island, but was afterwards

presumed to be a projecting head, separating the opening from a deep

bight which was called Paterson Bay; at the bottom of the bay is another

opening or inlet that may have some communication with the first. The

western side of Paterson Bay is formed by very low land off which many

patches of dry rocks were seen to extend; beyond this the coast appeared

to be low and sandy.

August 29.

Light and adverse winds and calms, with a constant easterly current,

detained us in the vicinity of Paterson Bay until the following sunset;

when, in order to preserve the little progress made, we anchored near the

reefs on the western side of the bay. During the preceding day, sixteen

or twenty natives were noticed upon the sandy beach that fronts the red

cliffs on the eastern side of the bay, engaged in fishing, or perhaps in

watching our movements; and this evening the smokes of their fires were

observed among the trees near the same spot.

August 30.

The next day we made but little progress along the coast to the

south-west which is so low as not to be visible from the cutter's deck,

at a greater distance than six miles; this rendered the examination of it

very inconvenient and even dangerous, as the rocks and reefs which lined

the coast extended in some parts beyond that distance.

The land appeared to be barren and arid, and were it not for a few bushes

or mangrove trees, scattered about the beach, it might be called a

complete desert.

1819. September 1.

Westerly winds and calms continued without intermission until the 1st of

September; during which the thermometer ranged between 79 and 93 degrees.

On this day a breeze from the North-East enabled us to make progress to

the southward; and after examining an indenture of the coast we anchored

at night off a point of land, which, from the circumstance of a very

large fire burning upon it, was called Point Blaze. The land still

continued low; but more wooded and less sandy than that we had seen

within the last two days.

September 2.

The next morning we resumed our course along the coast. To the south-west

a sandy hillock was observed, which proved to be on Captain Baudin's

Peron Island. This was the first opportunity that had occurred by which I

could compare my longitude with that of Captain Baudin; and as the Peak

of Peron Island is one of his fixed points, and is placed by him in 127

degrees 34 minutes 36 seconds, I find that my chart is in this part 6

minutes 24 seconds to the eastward.

In order to set at rest the question of the insularity of this land we

passed within it, but not without difficulty, from the numerous shoals

that are scattered over the channel. A smoke was seen upon the smaller

island among the trees for a few minutes, but no people made their

appearance as we passed by. The natives of this part of the coast were

seen probably by Tasman; for in Mr. Dalrymple's Papua the following

paragraph is found: "In latitude 13 degrees 8 minutes and longitude 146

degrees 18 minutes 6 seconds East (probably 129 1/2 degrees East of

Greenwich, and answering to this part) the people are bad and wicked,

shooting at the Dutch with arrows without provocation, when they were

coming on shore. It is here very populous."

On arriving abreast of the peaked hill above-mentioned, a considerable

shoal, connected with the mainland, appeared to separate us from it; in

crossing it we had three fathoms, and as soon as we passed over it the

water deepened instantly to thirteen fathoms. We then bore up and steered

through the channel between the islands and the main, which was both

narrow and deep towards Channel Point; close to which we had sixteen

fathoms, and then hauled up round Peron's South Island.

The land from Channel Point trends to the South-South-East, and forms a

tolerably deep bight of low, sandy land, terminated by Cliff Head, a high

rocky projection well furnished with trees. In this bay there is probably

an opening, but it is small and lined with mangroves. After passing

Channel Point the depth rapidly decreased, and as we crossed a shoal

which runs off from the south-east end of Peron's South Island and

extends deeply into the bay, we carried from two and three-quarters to

three and a half fathoms. On clearing it we steered South-South-West, and

after dark anchored in five fathoms, mud, Cliff Head bearing South 71

degrees East (Magnetic.)

The bay between the two projections received the name of Anson Bay, after

the noble family of that name. During the night we had a remarkable

copious fall of dew.

September 3.

The next day at eleven o'clock we were off Cape Ford: from this cape the

coast trends in a South 48 degrees West direction for five miles to a low

projecting point, near the extremity of which a clump of trees,

remarkable for their rounded form and singular appearance, was

conspicuous: hence it extends South 5 1/2 degrees West to a distant

point; the intervening coast being of moderate height and thickly wooded

to the brink of a range of dark red cliffs, two miles in length, rising

immediately from the beach; upon which eight natives and a child were

observed watching our movements. Our course was held parallel with the

shore at about three miles distance. At sunset we tacked off for the

night; and the south extreme at dark bore South by West 1/2 West.

The sea hereabout abounds with fish of various sorts, upon which several

sharks were feeding most rapaciously. From midnight to daybreak the

weather was fine with scarcely a breath of wind; afterwards a light land

breeze set in; which at noon was succeeded by the usual sea breeze from

the west.

September 4.

At noon the next day our latitude was 13 degrees 33 minutes 41 seconds

South. At five o'clock we passed a point (Cape Dombey) off which there is

a reef of rocks of circular shape, and of small extent: to the southward

of it the coast forms a bay, lined with mangroves, in which there is a

small opening; but the breeze was then too fresh to allow of our

venturing into it to examine it more closely. At eight o'clock we

anchored off a projecting point which appeared to form the eastern head

of a deep opening: this projection, on account of a remarkable tree

standing above the bushes near to its extremity, was called Tree Point.

At this anchorage the tide rose eighteen feet and ran nearly at the rate

of two miles per hour.

September 5.

The next morning at daybreak, when the land became visible, Captain

Baudin's Cape Dombey was recognised, bearing South 83 degrees East.

Between Capes Ford and Dombey the coast is higher than usual and thickly

wooded to the verge of the cliffs, which preserve the same deep red

colour with those more to the northward; under them a sandy beach

uninterruptedly lines the coast. The bottom, at from three to five miles

distance, is rather irregular, and varies in its depth between seven and

a half and ten fathoms. An opening in the land is laid down near Cape

Dombey in the French charts, before which are placed the Barthelemy

Islands, which certainly do not exist, and it was not until after the

haze of the day cleared up that two detached quadrilateral shaped hills

were seen over the low land; and as these at a distance would assume

exactly the figure and appearance of islands they must have been the

cause of the mistake; I have therefore called them (by altering the

nomenclature as little as possible) the Barthelemy Hills.

At nine o'clock, having weighed at daylight, we reached within three

miles of Tree Point; when the ebb tide commenced and obliged our

anchoring to wait the turn of tide, in order to examine an opening that

trended deeply in to the southward. Accordingly when the flood made we

got under weigh, and entered the opening without encountering any

difficulties or being impeded by shoals. The deepest channel is about

two-thirds over on the eastern side, in which we sounded on a muddy

bottom in between nine and five fathoms; after having passed the

narrowest part we hauled over to the western shore, in the hope of

finding anchorage out of the strength of the tide, but it was with great

difficulty, and not until darkness compelled us, that we let go the

anchor, upon what appeared to be a hard stony bottom, in five fathoms.

The tide then turned to the ebb and commenced running out so rapidly that

we were under apprehensions of the vessel being left dry.

September 6 to 7.

But at low water which took place at 1 hour 20 minutes a.m., although the

tide had fallen twenty-two feet, it left nine feet, which depth was just

sufficient to float the vessel. Upon stirring up the bottom with an oar,

it was found to be of stiff clay, plentifully sprinkled with small

iron-stone gravel; it proved however to be of much better quality than

had been suspected, and the anchorage was retained during our stay.

As the bottom of this port had a river-like appearance, Mr. Roe prepared

to examine it, and set out at daylight accompanied by Mr. Cunningham:

they did not return until the following day.

From his report it appears that the shores are overrun with mangroves

(rhizophoreae) and that the whole of the back lands are inundated at high

water, which accounts for the very strong tides we experienced. The

bottom of the port, which at Mr. Roe's desire was named in compliment to

Vice Admiral Sir Richard G. Keats, G.C.B., is divided into two saltwater

arms, extending towards the foot of a range of thickly-wooded hills,

which were seen from the anchorage over the low mangrove shore, and

which, from their description, are probably connected with the Barthelemy

Hills. Their summit was named Mount Goodwin.

Our party put ashore at the only accessible landing place they found and

walked a mile inland. The country was extremely low and sterile, and the

soil composed of a tenacious clay in which small iron-stone gravel is

thickly mixed; it appeared to be of the same nature as the bottom on

which we were anchored; and to have been lately covered with grass,

recently burnt; and here and there, among other plants, Mr. Cunningham

found a stunted eucalyptus (eudesmia?) about six feet high.

The usual traces of natives were noticed; especially in one part where

the mark of a foot had been impressed since the last high water. Large

fires were burning three or four miles off but no human beings were seen.

As our gentlemen proceeded up the river a large flight of bats flew over

the boat. Very few birds were observed but a cry like that of the Ardea

antigone was heard; Mr. Roe killed a small snake about two feet long.

Upon this excursion no fresh water was found except a few small

drainings; but in this we were not disappointed for the character of the

country did not favour the idea or inspire us with any hopes of finding a

stream of sufficient consequence to be rendered useful for our purpose.

During the absence of the boat several necessary things were done on

board the ship which it was not possible to effect under weigh. On

opening some of the dry casks their contents were found to have suffered

much from weevil and rats: the latter had also made great havoc on our

spare sails; and, what was of greater importance and made me very anxious

for the consequences, they had gnawed holes in almost every water-cask

that remained full; so that we were not certain for a moment of our stock

of that article, of which we had no chance of procuring a supply on this

dreary coast.

September 8.

The following morning we weighed and stood out of Port Keats. On

attempting to steer close round Cape Hay we were obliged to desist and to

pass round a reef that extended from it in a North 1/2 West direction to

the distance of four leagues.

At sunset no land was in sight.

September 9.

But at eight o'clock the next morning (9th) the north end of the above

reef bore East-South-East and the land about Cape Hay South-South-East.

The Barthelemy Hills were also seen from the masthead, and reported as

islands; this mistake of ours therefore tends still more to excuse the

error of the French charts.

During the day we had light winds and the coast was but indistinctly

seen. The sea was covered with a brown scum which Captain Cook's sailors

called sea saw-dust, from its resemblance to that substance.* Very few

fish were noticed, but they were generally more numerous nearer to the

shore.

(*Footnote. Hawkesworth volume 3 page 248. Peron Voyage de Decouvertes

aux Terres Australes volume 2 chapter 31.)

September 10.

At midnight the land was seen from North-East to South-East and at

daylight it was visible between Point Pearce, bearing South-South-East,

and a point five or six miles south of Cape Hay which bore North-East by

East. The coast is sandy; behind it there appeared a good deal of small

stunted timber, and beyond this the range of Mount Goodwin was visible.

Round Point Pearce the land trends in a South 59 1/2 degrees East

direction and forms a very deep indenture: on approaching this point we

observed an extensive dry reef and breakers projecting from it to a

considerable distance. No land was seen to the southward of south-east,

but the hazy state of the weather prevented our seeing far, especially

land which is so low as to be scarcely distinguishable beyond the

distance of three or four leagues. As we approached Point Pearce the

soundings were very irregular and generally upon a rocky bottom. We

passed many ripplings occasioned by the tide setting round the point and

meeting the other tide from the southward. As these eddies were driving

us towards the shore we steered off south-west. At six o'clock p.m. Point

Pearce bore North 65 degrees East eleven miles, and in a line with the

hills about Mount Goodwin. Between this time and noon the soundings were

between nine and thirty-two fathoms, upon a rocky bottom.

At sunset we were in fourteen fathoms, and during the night continued

sounding on a rocky bottom between ten and fourteen fathoms.

September 11.

At daylight of the 11th no land was in sight, we therefore stood to the

southward to make it but were obliged to tack off without seeing any, as

we shoaled rather suddenly to five fathoms. We then stood to the

north-east, close to a fresh land wind from the East-South-East, which

brought with it a very unpleasant warmth. As we approached Point Pearce,

the land of which, at nine o'clock, came in sight, the water deepened to

fifteen and eighteen fathoms. At half-past ten o'clock we were within

three miles of the point; when the wind died away, and from the ebbing

tide we very soon lost what we had gained during the morning; for there

was no anchoring ground fit to trust our only remaining anchor upon. At

noon we were about ten miles south-west from Point Pearce. The wind then

springing up from the south, sail was set, but the tide being adverse,

very little better than a north-east course was made good. Soon after

sunset, being three or four miles to the South-South-West of Point

Pearce, we tacked to the southward with the intention of steering on to

make what progress we could during the night.

The attempt was hazardous, as we were strangers to the part; but if some

little risk was not run we had no chance of penetrating. From fifteen

fathoms we deepened to twenty-one, but as quickly shoaled again to

fifteen, and then suddenly to seven fathoms, hard sand.

The cutter was then put about and we steered off North-West for six miles

and passed through several ripplings, occasioned by the tide flowing with

rapidity over a rocky and irregular bottom. After running the above

distance we again hauled to the wind, but had hardly trimmed sails before

we again suddenly shoaled from sixteen to seven fathoms. This was too

dangerous to persist in, and I gave up the attempt of venturing forward

during the night.

September 12.

The next morning the land was visible about Point Pearce, bearing

North-North-East.

The colour of the water here is of a dirty yellow; it was imagined at

first to be caused by the tide stirring up the mud; but on examination we

found that it arose entirely from the reflection of the bottom, which is

a brown and yellow speckled sand. Although this change of the bottom was

favourable to the importance of the opening before us, yet it rendered

our difficulties greater, and increased the dangers, from its offering

less secure anchorage, and being so much more studded with shoals, than

the even muddy bottom that we had just left.

At daylight the breeze was strong from East-South-East: at seven o'clock,

having fetched in with the land on the north side, we tacked and stood

across to the opposite shore. The land in the bight was visible in

patches as far as south-east, and the loom of it as far as south-west:

three smokes, one bearing south, another South-South-West, and another

south-west, proved the contiguity of the main; which is so low that when

we were very near it was scarcely distinguishable on account of the haze

and smoke with which it was enveloped. At 10 hours 40 minutes we were

about a mile and a half from a reef which was dry for more than a mile in

extent, and nearer to us was a patch of breakers: in standing towards

these shoals our soundings had been regular between nine and ten fathoms;

but at this time they unexpectedly shoaled at one cast, from eight to

three fathoms: the course was altered in time to prevent the cutter's

striking. We were now obliged to steer off, and after running six miles

to the North-West by West we steered west to observe the latitude which

was found to be 14 degrees 39 minutes 34 seconds South. The land was now

visible as far as South-West by West; five minutes after noon the

soundings decreased from ten to four and three-quarters fathoms; and

within fifty yards of us the water was rippling upon the edge of a shoal

which extends to the north-west and is probably dry at low water; we were

then obliged to steer to the north-west along the edge of this bank. At

about four miles further on we were again upon the bank in four fathoms,

and once more fortunately escaped getting on shore; an accident which

must have been fatal. To avoid this we hauled up north-east and soon got

into clear water; but fearing to encounter more of these overfalls we

steered north-east for three miles, five miles North-North-West, and one

and a quarter north-west, upon which courses our soundings were between

twelve and fifteen fathoms; the bottom being generally hard sand mixed

with coral and stones and often with rocks. We then steered west for four

miles, and supposing we had cleared the shoal, hauled in South-South-West

until dark; by which time we had run seven miles.

Although the evening was clear the horizon over the land was so covered

with the smoke of the natives' fires that it could not be discovered, nor

any anchorage found: we therefore hauled off for the night and from our

vicinity to this dangerous shoal passed it very anxiously, but happily

without any unpleasant occurrence.

I now gave up all idea of examining the opening round Point Pearce which

appeared of so interesting a character. The danger of remaining under

weigh (for our only anchor could not be trusted with safety on so bad a

bottom) was too great to run any longer risk, and we left the place with

a much stronger impression of its value and importance than we

entertained after the examination of an opening that was discovered by us

a few days afterwards.

September 13.

At daylight the land about Point Pearce (a sugarloaf hill on the Goodwin

Range) bore nearly due east. At eight a.m., having stood to the

South-South-West for thirteen miles, the water changed colour; the depth

however still continued to be regular in twelve fathoms and we steered

on; soon afterwards it shoaled to seven and five fathoms, upon which the

helm was put up; but before the vessel's head was got round we were in

three fathoms with the swell of the sea breaking so heavily around us

that our escape for the fourth time on this shoal was quite providential.

After getting into clear water we ran along the edge of the coloured

water, sounding in fourteen fathoms hard sand, mixed with shells and

stones; at noon we hauled round its north-west extremity and steered for

the land, which was soon afterwards visible from south to south-west, the

latter bearing being that of a remarkable hill, of quadrilateral shape,

answering in position to Captain Baudin's Lacrosse Island. At two o'clock

our soundings, for the first time since leaving Port Keats, were on a

muddy bottom; at sunset we were within six miles of a small rocky island

of half a mile in extent, surrounded by an extensive reef, which was

partially dry; the land between South-East and West by South appeared to

be a very low sandy coast, and the back lands to the south-east are

wooded and level. Nearer to Lacrosse Island the coast is not only more

irregular in its outline but of a more mountainous character: on each

side of the nearest part of the coast, which was eight miles off and bore

South, the shores fall back and form two bays; the land was however so

enveloped by the smoke of the natives' fires that the greater part was

very indistinctly seen and therefore very imperfectly described. After

dark a light breeze sprang up from the South-West, and we stood off

shore; but not being able to find an anchorage we continued under weigh

during the night.

September 14.

The next morning the land was not in sight: as we stood towards the shore

it was soon afterwards discerned, and at noon we were very near to our

last night's position but were prevented from steering towards Lacrosse

Island by a considerable shoal which extended to the North-West and

crossed our course: we anchored near it at sunset in ten fathoms.

The land this day was more visible towards the South-East and observed to

join the low land at the back of the reefs that we passed on the 12th.

A remarkable echo was heard in the evening: whilst the cook was chopping

his wood every blow was echoed round the bight, although we were eight

miles from the shore. After leaving Port Keats we met with large

quantities of a very beautiful species of medusa, it appeared to be the

Medusa panopyra, figured in Peron's Atlas, (Plate 31 figure 2). It is

from this animal that the French have named their Banc des Meduses. No

turtle or snakes had for some time been seen and very few sharks; but

other fish were numerous.

September 15.

Very little progress was made the next day; several attempts were made to

stand toward Lacrosse Island; but we were obliged to give it up as the

bank still crossed our course. In the evening we again anchored near the

edge of the bank and during the night the breeze blew fresh but the

anchor held well.

September 16.

At daylight another ineffectual attempt was made to cross the bank. At

two o'clock we passed several detached banks on which were seven and

eight fathoms; and soon afterwards rounded the north-west end of the

large bank, at a quarter of a mile distance in four fathoms; after which

the water deepened to twelve and thirteen fathoms but still the bottom

was of hard sand. From the colour of the sea it appeared that we were in

a deep channel, extending towards Lacrosse Island: from light winds our

progress was so slow that sunset overtook us before we had formed any

plan for anchoring; our soundings were between twenty-two and eighteen

fathoms hard sandy bottom: the tide was ebbing. The idea of standing out

for anchorage after having toiled for the last three days against foul

winds and other obstacles was particularly revolting; and increasing

darkness found me quite at a loss what course to pursue; for Lacrosse

Island appeared so rocky that I despaired of finding anchorage near it:

having however two days before seen a white beach off its south-east end

(which subsequently proved to be composed of stones whitened by the

effect of the weather) we stood towards it as a last resource; and on our

way thither we passed over a muddy bottom upon which the anchor was

dropped in eight fathoms, at about two miles from the north-west end of

the island. This day as usual many medusae were seen; and also a snake,

three feet long; its back was black, the belly yellow, and the tail

striped black and white.

September 17.

In the morning we landed upon the island at a place which had the

appearance of containing fresh water; and after examining several

torrent-worn gullies for it without success we ascended a hill to look

round for some more probable place; but as the same arid appearance

seemed to pervade every part within our view we re-embarked, and shortly

landed upon a bluff point at the north-west end of the island; from which

a considerable reef of rocks projects into the sea.

Whilst I was employed in taking a set of bearings from this station the

boat's crew amused themselves in wandering about the rocks in search of

shells; and upon our again embarking they informed me that they had seen

some natives on the beach of a sandy bay round the point; but that they

had retired without having been noticed. The information proved correct;

for on pulling round the point we espied four natives seated on the sand,

watching the progress of a fire they had just kindled; which was rapidly

spreading through and consuming the dry and parched up grass that grew

scantily upon the face of the island. As soon as we were observed three

of them got up and stood for some moments motionless with alarm; but upon

my calling to them and waving my hat the whole party, seizing their

spears, ran off, and in a few seconds disappeared in the hollow behind

the beach. On the sand were marks of turtles, which gave me hopes of

obtaining some for the ship's company who had not enjoyed a fresh meal,

excepting the flesh of three porpoises, since leaving Port Jackson. As

our object was to pull round the island we did not stop here; but at a

few minutes before noon, being near a projecting point a little further

on, we landed and observed the sun's supplementary altitude which made

the latitude 14 degrees 45 minutes 56 seconds South. We afterwards landed

further on in a small sandy bay where we found more turtle-tracks and the

remains of a nest that had been plundered by the natives; who, from the

recent impressions of their feet on the sand, had in the morning crossed

the beach. The sand was so heated that it was painful to stand upon

without constantly relieving our feet; and that the natives we had just

seen should sit and bask upon it in this state would have appeared

incredible to us had we not witnessed the fact. Upon leaving the bay, the

natives, whose number had increased to nine, were observed upon the hills

that overhang the beach, watching our proceedings; and as we pulled away

they slowly moved toward the place we had just left.

As soon as we arrived on board we got underweigh and steered round the

bluff point on the west side of the island; and at half past five o'clock

anchored at about half a mile from the shore of the bay on which we had

lately landed. From this station we had an opportunity of observing the

features of the coast: Lacrosse Island is situated in the entrance of a

deep opening trending to the South-South-West towards some steep rugged

hills. The character of the country is here entirely changed: irregular

ranges of detached rocky hills of sandstone formation, very slightly

clothed with small shrubs and rising abruptly from extensive plains of

low level land seem to have superseded the low wooded coast that almost

uninterruptedly prevails between this and Cape Wessel; a distance of more

than six hundred miles. The present change, although more dreary and less

inviting, was hailed by us with pleasure; for the broken appearance of

the hills inspired us with the hope of finding some fresh stream from

which we might complete our water, and thereby prevent our premeditated

visit to Timor, whither it would soon be time to resort.

The fires which had been lighted in the course of the day by the natives

had rapidly spread over the summit of the hills, and at night the whole

island was illuminated and presented a most grand and imposing

appearance. After dusk Mr. Roe went with a party on shore in order to

take turtle and at eight o'clock returned with one of the hawk's-bill

species (Testudo imbricata?) the meat of which weighed seventy-one

pounds; about fifty eggs were also procured.

September 18.

The boat was sent again at four o'clock in the morning, as it was then

high water, but returned at daylight without success.

Lacrosse Island, so named by Commodore Baudin, is about nine miles in

circumference and about six hundred feet high; it is of a rugged

character and intersected by numerous deep ravines and gullies; which, in

the wet season, doubtless contain water.

The seaward or northern face of the island is formed of a fine-grained

sandstone, dipping in strata, with a slight inclination to the

South-East: large blocks of the same stone were also found scattered over

the hills. The soil with which it is but slightly covered is little

better than a thin layer of sandy earth; but notwithstanding its sterile

quality it produces a variety of small plants, among which a shrubby

acacia* was predominant and sufficiently abundant to tint the sides of

the hills where it grew with the sea-green colour of its foliage. At last

quarter ebb we got underweigh and proceeded to examine the opening by

steering South-South-West towards the deepest part; at twenty-three miles

from Lacrosse Island the gulf is divided by Adolphus Island into two

arms; one of which trended to the South-South-East and the other to the

South-South-West.**

(*Footnote. This plant is described in Mr. Cunningham's Journal as Acacia

leucophoea.)

(**Footnote. For the farther description of Cambridge Gulf see the

Appendix A Part 4.)

As the western arm appeared to be of most importance we entered it and,

with a strong flood tide, proceeded with great rapidity; as sunset

approached we began to look for an anchorage, but found much difficulty

on account of the strength of the tides, the great depth of water, and,

as I at first thought, the unfavourable quality of the bottom: at last

the anchor was dropped close to the south-west shore of Adolphus Island

in the entrance of another arm which appeared to trend to the south-east

under Mount Connexion. The noise made by the chain cable in running

through the hawse-hole put to flight a prodigious number of bats that

were roosting in the mangrove bushes; and which, flying over and about

the cutter's mast, quite darkened the air with their numbers.

September 19.

As I purposed remaining two days at this anchorage to examine the country

we landed the next morning under View Hill, a high steep point on the

south shore abreast of the anchorage; and, having climbed the summit by a

rugged and fatiguing ascent, our labour was amply repaid by a very

extensive view of the surrounding country and by obtaining bearings of

Lacrosse Island and Shakspeare Hill; which served to fix the position of

View Hill.

The south end of Adolphus Island, of which I had a commanding view, is a

low, flat salt-swamp surrounded by mangrove bushes. To the south-eastward

of Shakspeare Hill but quite detached from it is a range of hills

extending in unconnected patches toward Mount Connexion. The principal

stream of the gulf, which is the west arm, runs under the base of View

Hill; three and a half miles farther on it opens into an extensive basin

at the bottom of which is some high land; here the basin is contracted in

its size, and trends to the westward round a mangrove point, where it was

lost to view.

Mr. Cunningham had also made an excursion upon Adolphus Island; he had

walked over the salt-swamp towards the hills, which, from his

description, are precisely of the same character as View Hill; the rock

formation is principally of sandstone, blocks of which (the largest not

exceeding three feet in diameter) are profusely scattered over the sandy

soil and are sometimes found covered with a crust of quartz: but

notwithstanding the aridity and apparent barrenness of the soil, many

plants were recovering from the destructive effects of recent fires and

springing up in great luxuriance. In our ascent we passed through several

deep gullies which bore the marks of having once yielded abundance of

water but were now quite dried up.

September 20.

The next day Mr. Cunningham accompanied me on an excursion round Adolphus

Island, taking from the anchorage an easterly direction; and passing to

the north of the two mangrove islands. On the eastern side of Adolphus

Island we landed on one of two rocky islets, and took some bearings from

its summit. It is composed of loose blocks of decomposed sandstone. On

the summit we observed a large hawk's nest but it was deserted by its

constructor. The only plants that were found upon this rock were a

prickly capparis and a leafless ficus, the latter bearing clusters of

small, whitish, globular fruit: these plants, with a small hibiscus, were

the chief productions of the rock; and have probably been produced from

seeds deposited there by birds.

On leaving these rocks I hoped to have reached in time some part of the

north-east shore of Adolphus Island where I could observe the sun's

meridional altitude on the sea horizon; but we were detained in the arm

by strong ripplings and a fresh sea-breeze until it was too late. Upon

approaching the northernmost point of the island, which is low and

covered with mangroves, we were obliged to pull round a bank that extends

for some distance off it: as soon as this was effected the flood-tide

commenced; we then landed under Adolphus Island just within the narrow

entrance of the western arm; and whilst the people dined I was engaged in

taking bearings and Mr. Cunningham ranged about in search of plants.

Everything wore the same arid appearance as those parts before visited;

but the stems of some trees, of a larger growth than any we had yet seen

on the hills, were found washed up on the beach. At five p.m. we returned

on board; having made the circuit of Adolphus Island, a distance of

twenty-five miles; without seeing the least vestige of man or animal or

any appearance of fresh water.

September 22.

The wind and tide were unfavourable the next day for quitting our

anchorage until the afternoon: in the morning Mr. Roe sounded and

examined the south arm; and as he found the passage to be quite clear we

weighed at slack water with the intention of proceeding through it and

anchoring in the basin; but the strength of the wind obliged us to anchor

under View Hill and detained us the whole of the following day which was

unsuccessfully spent in examining the gullies in search of fresh water: a

hole was dug in one of the most favourable spots we could find; and at

the depth of three or four feet the earth gradually became so moist as to

flatter us with the hope that our labours would be rewarded by success:

at three feet deeper water began to ooze through; but, upon tasting it,

it turned out to be quite salt. Another place higher up was tried with

the same result upon which further search was abandoned as useless.

In the evening we ascended a hill near the anchorage; whence a favourable

view was obtained for the construction of my chart. The space behind the

beach to the foot of the hill is occupied by a level plain that has

evidently been formed by the deposition of alluvial soil; over which, in

many places, the last night's high tide had passed; but those parts which

it had not reached were covered with a thin layer of salt which at a

distance exactly resembled hoar-frost. Upon it was observed the track of

a dog that had evidently been running towards the saltwater pits to

quench its thirst; and this, I fear, is only a proof of the total absence

of fresh water, which, indeed, the desolate and burnt up appearance of

everything around was sufficient of itself to bespeak. The country at the

bottom of the gulf appeared to be of a rugged and mountainous character:

the hills were observed in detached ranges to rise abruptly from a low

level plain extending to the shore, the edge of which was lined as far as

we could see by a belt of mangrove bushes. These plains were covered with

salt incrustations over which were scattered the stems and branches of

trees that had evidently been washed down from the hills and deposited

there by inundations to which this country appears to be frequently

subject. The trees appeared to be of so much larger size than any we have

seen growing near the coast that we reasonably concluded the interior to

be of a much more productive character than the country in the vicinity

of the sea. Our means were however too confined to satisfy ourselves of

this interesting fact.

September 23.

The following morning, the weather being more favourable, we left the bay

and, with the remainder of the flood tide, beat through the narrows; in

which, at one cast, we had no bottom at forty-five fathoms. As soon as we

passed this strait we entered the basin and a little before high water

anchored in eight fathoms on its west side, where at noon, by a

meridional observation to the south, the latitude was found to be 15

degrees 21 minutes 53 seconds South. After this we landed in the vicinity

of our station; but, finding the country as barren and dreary as before,

the evening was spent in sounding between the cutter and the western

shore.

September 24.

The next morning we reached the farther end of the basin and anchored

under a remarkable range of hills; which, from their appearance, were

called the Bastion Hills; the latitude of this station is 15 degrees 29

minutes 38 seconds South. The gulf, which had now assumed the character

of a river, trended to the South-West, and at the distance of three or

four miles disappeared among some high land in that direction.

In the evening (since we had lately seen no appearance of sharks) the

people were allowed to bathe; but they had no sooner finished, and

everyone on board, than an alligator swam past the vessel. The appearance

of this animal revived some hopes of our yet finding fresh water and also

that the gulf would terminate in a river; the breadth here is about a

mile and a half and the rise of the tide about twenty-one feet: the ebb

set at the rate of three knots per hour and the water was very muddy; but

at low tide, upon being tasted, it still retained its saltness.

September 25.

At daylight the next morning we were again under weigh; but, the wind

being directly adverse, were obliged to make several tacks: as we

proceeded the opening was found to get more contracted and to wind

through a very narrow strait between high precipitous hills; and as, on

approaching it, the passage appeared too narrow to be attempted with

safety, we anchored at about two miles from it near the low west bank;

and after breakfast Mr. Cunningham accompanied me in the whale-boat to

continue its further exploration.

The wind was blowing a fresh gale from the South-West directly out of the

Gut and impeded us a good deal; but the tide was running with such

strength that we were not long before we passed through. This passage is

about two miles and a half long, bounded on either side by rocky barren

hills rising abruptly from the water. The channel is deep for our boat's

lead-line of twenty fathoms did not reach the bottom. At the south end of

the gut the land opened out into another basin which, like the former, is

surrounded by low land overrun with mangroves and studded with several

islets, occasionally covered by the tide. The course of the river still

trended to the south-west, in which direction we continued to pull but

found some difficulty from its being very shoal; for in the fair way

across there was not more water than eighteen feet at three-quarters'

flood. At eleven o'clock, having crossed the basin, we landed on an islet

which, like the rest, had been covered by the last high tide. The river

had now contracted to the width of one hundred to one hundred and fifty

yards and trended by a winding course to the south and south-east, but

the water was still as salt as ever although we were at least sixty miles

from the sea. As there was now no probability of our extending the

examination of this river for any useful purpose we stopped at high water

and landed on the bank to examine the country whilst the people dined. We

were about two or three miles from the base of a most remarkable

quadrangular-shaped mass of hills rising abruptly from an extensive flat

plain covered with salt: the sides sloped down with a very steep descent

to the base and the top of the range was circumvented with cliffs which,

protruding at intervals, so perfectly resembled the bastions and ramparts

of a formidable fortress that it wanted only the display of a standard to

render the illusion complete. It was named Mount Cockburn in compliment

to Vice-Admiral Sir George Cockburn, G.C.B., one of the Lord

Commissioners of the Admiralty. The accompanying drawing of this

remarkable range of hills was taken from the west point of the south

entrance of the gut.

All around us bore the most desolate appearance. The grass, which was

quite dry, wanted but a spark and a breeze to set the whole country in

flames. The soil on which it grows, which is about two feet above the

high watermark, is a stiff clay; covered with a slight incrustation of

salt on which the tracks of native dogs were noticed; several smokes were

observed at a distance but no natives were seen. The tide had now began

to ebb; and as there was no inducement to detain us for the next day to

examine it farther we set off on our return; and on our way landed for

bearings on the small islet in the middle of the Inner Basin. We also

went on shore in two places on the west bank within the Gut; at the first

we found the marks of an encampment of a tribe of natives: eight or nine

spots of circular form were cleared away amongst the grass and in the

centre of each were the ashes of a small fire, close to which we noticed

some large flattened stones with a smaller one lying upon them, which the

natives probably use for the purpose of bruising or grinding the seeds of

plants and breaking shellfish. The impressions of dogs' feet were

observed about the fireplaces, as well as the recent tracks of kangaroos.

The only animal that we saw during our excursion was a small

kangaroo-rat; it was skipping about the rocks near the sea. A ravine, of

appearance the most favourable for our search for water, was selected

from a great many as most likely to afford it; and we landed for that

purpose; but we met with our usual bad success; torrents had once poured

down it, the effects of which alone were left. Recent traces of kangaroos

were again seen here: these animals can require but little drink unless

the dew that is nightly deposited is sufficient for the purpose of

quenching their thirst, for we did not see a drop of fresh water in any

part we landed at.

We reached the vessel a short time before sunset and terminated the

examination of this gulf, which at one time bore so flattering an

appearance as to leave little doubt of our being able to complete our

water, and that even with facility. I felt so much disappointed that two

or three small openings, which probably served but to drain the vast

plains of inundated country that environ the hills on the shores of this

gulf, were passed by unheeded; among which was the extensive branch that

trended to the south-east under Mount Connexion; this opening appeared to

possess a similar character with that we had just been employed in

exploring.

September 25 to 26.

On the 26th we got under weigh to return; but, having to work against a

contrary breeze, made no farther progress than the anchorage occupied on

the 23rd. The smokes of many fires were seen during the day; but in this

country where everything is so parched and dry a fire will lie dormant a

considerable time, and as the breeze springs up the flames will kindle

and run along in the direction of the wind for many miles.

September 27.

The next day at half-past twelve o'clock when the ebb tide began to make,

the wind freshened up from South-East and soon carried us into the

narrows: it then veered round to the eastward, and after half an hour's

calm a strong sea-breeze set in against us; but the tide being in our

favour we made quick progress until half an hour before the time of low

water, when we anchored under the north-west end of Adolphus Island.

I have this day to record the death of one of the crew, William Nicholls,

who, for some time past, and particularly during the last three days, had

been suffering from a dropsical complaint; his death was occasioned by

suffocation, having very imprudently laid down with his head to leeward

while we were under sail: this poor fellow had been for nearly three

months on our sick list; he was a native of Norfolk Island, and, when in

health, had been one of my most useful and attentive men.

September 28.

He was interred the next morning on shore; in memorial whereof the

north-west point of the island was named after him. Soon after noon the

ebb tide made, and we worked out against a strong northerly breeze, which

gave us a good opportunity of ascertaining the soundings and breadth of

the channel. The tide however did not serve to carry us out of the gulf,

and at low water we dropped the anchor near a bank on the western side in

six fathoms, sandy bottom, out of the influence of the tide; which in the

mid-channel was observed to run with great strength.

After sunset the clouds began to collect in the South-East and threatened

the approach of bad weather; but in our situation the anchor, although we

had but one, was our best security.

September 29.

At two o'clock in the morning heavy clouds rose in the East-South-East

and the wind freshened from that direction; it however soon after veered

back to South-East and enabled us to weigh. The weather was cloudy and

dark, but as the plan of the gulf had been already roughly formed, and

our soundings laid down, I was sufficiently aware of the course we had to

steer. The only event to be dreaded was that, in getting under weigh, the

cutter might cast with her head inshore, when we should certainly have

been thrown upon the bank; our fears however upon this point were happily

groundless, and our course being unimpeded, we made quick way towards

Lacrosse Island, which was passed at daylight.

Having now cleared this extraordinary inlet which was named Cambridge

Gulf in honour of His Royal Highness the Viceroy of Hanover, we bore up

along shore to the westward, sufficiently near to it to have perceived

any opening that might exist, and to make such remarks as were necessary

for its delineation. At sunset we were off Cape St. Lambert of the French

and their Mount Casuarina was also seen. M. de Freycinet's description of

the hill is very correct, but at the distance which we were it was only

visible when it bore between South and West-South-West; for the land in

that bearing intervened and concealed it. Large fires were burning three

or four miles inland.

September 30.

At sunset we hauled off shore for the night; and the next morning saw

Mount Casuarina again bearing south; its latitude was found to be 14

degrees 23 minutes 15 seconds, and its longitude 127 degrees 36 minutes

50 seconds East of Greenwich, which is 3 minutes 10 seconds to the

westward of the situation that the French have assigned to it.

Hence the shore takes a north-westerly trend. At noon we were two miles

and a half from Cape Rulhieres when our latitude was 13 degrees 51

minutes 58 seconds; at seven miles in a North 37 degrees West direction

from the cape, which is a stony point, is Captain Baudin's Lesueur

Island, a low flat sandy island. We passed between it and the main, and

had soundings with fifteen fathoms.

In passing a projection of land which appeared to be an island and off

which is a considerable reef, the bottom shoaled to eight fathoms but as

quickly deepened again to no bottom with fifteen fathoms. This probable

island may perhaps be the second Lesueur Island, which is laid down upon

the French chart; but I have doubts of it; for I do not think it could be

distinguished as an island at the distance Captain Baudin was from the

shore. The land now extended towards a point which was called Cape

Londonderry, whence it took a westerly direction. On arriving up with the

reef which extends off Cape Londonderry we hauled off to the northward

and passed the ensuing night under easy sail, during which our soundings

were between forty and forty-six fathoms. A very large natives' fire was

burning about two or three miles inland, but the Indians did not show

themselves. Last night our people caught a porpoise, which helped to

diminish the bad effect of salt provisions.

We were now very weak-handed; three men, besides Mr. Bedwell who was

still an invalid, being ill, considerably reduced our strength; insomuch

that being underweigh night and day, with only one spare man on the watch

to relieve the masthead look-out, the lead, and the helm, there was great

reason to fear the fatigue would very much increase the number of

complaints. Since leaving Port Jackson we had never been free from

sickness, but it was confined principally to two or three individuals who

were not able to endure the very great heat. Upon the whole we thought

ourselves very fortunate that, considering the frequency of illness on

board and the violence of the diseases by which some of our people had

been attacked, particularly in the cases of Mr. Bedwell and Mr.

Cunningham, we had only lost one man; and this from a complaint which

even medical assistance might not, perhaps, have cured; and by an

accident which could not have been prevented, for our people were at the

moment so busily employed in working the vessel through a dangerous

navigation that the unfortunate man's situation was not known until the

vital spark was nearly extinct, and too far gone for any human means to

save his life. The thermometer now ranged between 80 and 87 degrees in

the shade; and the fast approach of the sun (the declination of which was

3 degrees South) was daily felt.