CHAPTER IX.
At 8 o’clock on the morning of the 6th we hove up our anchor, got under weigh, and, with a fair wind, stood down the river—leaving Hobartown in the distance—bound on another long cruise to the westward.
But before I take leave of Hobartown, I must acknowledge the general welcome and hospitality with which we were greeted and treated by its inhabitants, who seemed very desirous to add their contributions to make our time whilst in their harbor pass pleasantly. The mere fact of our being Americans was a passport to their good opinion. Although, when we are absent, they jeer at our national peculiarities, and lay great stress upon “guess” and “calculate,” yet they are all suavity when in our company. Away from home the whole of our people are known as Yankees, whether hailing from the northern, southern, eastern, or western section of our Union. Being an American, as far as my experience goes, is indeed a passport to civility amongst the inhabitants of all these penal colonies. Though the greater part of these people have been banished from Europe for their violation of the laws of their native country, nevertheless, they still consider themselves to be the injured party, and view England as a great oppressor, by whose peculiarsocietary organization her subjects are urged on to evil; and therefore they say, as such, they have neither regard nor respect for her. I noticed that the military band were continually playing, God save the Queen; but I saw nothing of that affection for the sovereign, which the English papers are forever rehearsing, as being an inherent principle in the British composition. Respect for her virtues, as a woman, they readily yield; but these people have a vague idea of republicanism, that will eventually cost Great Britain her Australian colonies; although self-government among such a people will undoubtedly be productive of little else than anarchy and disorder. The discordant elements composing the population need a thorough alternative, ere they can hope to form a government in any way resembling our Union of the West; and from my own impressions, drawn from an observation of both the higher and lower classes of society, I should say that it would require all the abattoirs of Paris,—which extend, I forget how many miles, and render it the most thoroughly drained city in the world,—as an outlet for the moral corruption of this country.
And now I must touch briefly on Van Dieman’s Land business-operations. Yankee cuteness in bargaining has became a proverb, but I doubt whether the sharpest of the speculators from the land of wooden nutmegs could outdo the sharpers found here. Long before we passed the Iron Pot light, a boat, containing a couple of speculators, came alongside, and her passengers jumped aboard of us. (One of their names, by the way, was Smart, and he sustained the aptitude of his cognomen to the bestof his ability.) We purchased a boat of them, which, after we were outside, was found to be much worn, and the crevices filled with putty and neatly painted, so as to defy detection. The potatoes, bought for first-rate, were very ordinary; and the salt-meat, ten tierces of which had been bought for corned beef—being represented as having been but a short time out of pickle—was fairly white with an encrustation of salt, which no amount of soaking would remove: being ten times more saline than that which we had brought from home twenty-four months previously. This meat, when opened, was not, like ours, of a rich red and yellow hue, but of a sickly pink and white, which may have been owing to the absence of saltpetre in the pickle. It was quite fat; but the fat was like suet, and eatable only whilst warm; wanting the rich, pleasant taste of the fat on our own meat. The epicure may laugh at my expression of “rich taste,” applied to a piece of salt-junk; but let him do, as I have done, after hours of fatiguing night-duty—when his system is almost prostrated from exposure to wind and weather—go down to his messpan, get a piece of fat beef, a cake of hard bread, and a raw onion, (if he is fortunate enough to possess the latter,) and then go on deck, and munch it, then, I think, he will find the taste of it rich, grateful and pleasant.
Before I go farther, I must relate a New Zealand adventure, which escaped my notice whilst writing of that delectable coast, and as it is one of the few incidents of my voyage with which a woman is connected, it would not be just for me to omit it: it was as follows. One night whilst we lay in MilfordHaven Bay, one of the owners of the schooner Eliza approached me very mysteriously, and asked the privilege of a few minutes conversation with me. Of course I acquiesced, wondering at the motive for his request. I was soon enlightened. He stated that in the settlement where he lived, at Jacob’s River Bluff, at the extremity of the middle island, their former physician, who for many years had practised in the vicinity, had died, and they, therefore, were without medical attention. Having heard my shipmates call me Doctor, and discovering, upon inquiry, that I had dabbled somewhat in physic at home, he made up his mind that I was an expert practitioner, and the idea entered his head to secure me as a resident at the Bluff. He stated the matter to me, assuring me of a remunerative practice, and, as a further inducement offered me one of his daughters as a wife. He represented her as a beautiful half-caste girl—and I found, upon inquiry, that he did her but justice. I was both amused and surprised at the ardor with which he urged the matter, and did not give him a final answer, wishing to draw him out. The old fellow thought that he had me safe, when I deemed it time to put a stop to it, and informed him that my engagements to the owners of our ship were of so urgent a nature that I could not leave without the captain’s full consent. He assured me that there would be no difficulty about that, if I would but givemyconsent to the matter; he would stow me away so that no one would be able to find me, and at the end of their cruise carry me to the Bluff. Of course I could not consent to this, although every time he renewed his solicitations, he enjoinedon me to remember the gal. I certainly should have liked to have formed an acquaintance with her, but I had too many ties at home to forget and forsake my country. This old fellow was an English man-of-war’s man who had deserted from his ship in the early days of the settlement of the island, and marrying a native woman, had reared a family of handsome and interesting children. His code of morals was not of the highest standard, neither was his sense of duty as a parent, or he would not have wished to dispose of his daughter so summarily without her consent; but then he may have been fully acquainted with her wishes, and I was assured that these girls consider it as a great honor to secure an American husband. In proof of this I will relate the adventures of a townsman of mine. He sailed from New Bedford in a whaler, deserted at Bravo, one of the Cape De Verde Islands, contracted some sort of a marriage with one of the Portuguese girls there, became tired of her, and shipped aboard a second New Bedford ship bound to the South Seas. She cruised off New Zealand, and then proceeded to the Australian Bight. Whilst in these latitudes, this young man fell from the maintop into the waist boat, and displaced his ribs. A few days after the accident we fell in with her, and I went aboard and set them. We saw no more of the ship or him for a long time, when one day, whilst we were gammoning with the Colonial ship Pacific, I was surprised at seeing the self-same individual step aboard from her boat, well and hearty, having perfectly recovered from his injury. He told me that being weak for some time after he was hurt, his captain had left him ashore at Stewart’sIsland, with sufficient for all his wants, promising to call at a certain time. The ship not making her appearance at the stated period, and being perfectly recovered, he became weary of inactivity, and on the Pacific’s touching at the island, he joined her, throwing away several hundred dollars which were his proportion of his former ships (the Alexander) earnings. The Alexander touched at the island a few weeks after, but found the bird flown, to the captain’s regret, as the missing individual was one of his most useful men. He continued in the Pacific for five or six months, and on her touching a second time at the island, deserted from her and married the girl whom the cooper was desirous that I should mate with. Thus this youngster, scarce arrived at manhood, had, in the course of two years, left his home, and been a member of three ships, married twice, and at the last account of him was snugly anchored in an out of the way nook in the South Pacific, thousands of miles from his kindred, who know nothing of his whereabouts, neither are they likely to, without, amongst his other freaks, he should attempt that of returning home. Thus it is, a free life on the salt water certainly engenders this unsettled, roving tendency. A sailor considering himself at home in every clime; well-knowing that however little employment there may be for other professions, the ways of commerce will always supply him with a berth sufficient to provide for all his wants. The better the seaman, generally, the more wild and reckless are his frolics; never learning wisdom, or staying his rollicking career, until the blue waves of old ocean close over his sinking form,or he is hove down in some foreign hospital, a prey to disease brought on by his own imprudence. His life ebbs out, amongst strangers, when, if at home, his sick couch would be surrounded by kind friends, or, perhaps, a fond mother or sister, who, at the dictates of affection, would minister to his dying wants, and smooth his dreary passage with all the comforts procurable by affection.
But I must resume the legitimate course of my log, which was interrupted, I believe, as we were making our way down the Derwent. By night we were outside and beating up for the Southwest Cape. There, on Sunday the 9th, we sighted sperm whales. We lowered away, and in about an hour had one snugly moored alongside. The following day we cut him in despite a gale of wind; fortunately, saving the whale. On the following Wednesday we saw another school of whales, but, after chasing all day, gave up the pursuit as hopeless. As soon as we were done boiling, the James Allen hove in sight, having left Hobartown several days after we sailed. They informed us that after we left, her cooper, and one of her boatsteerers deserted, having been enticed away by the smiles of some of Hobartown’s syrens. They also stated that the Prince Regent had arrived, and brought news of our missing boat’s crew. That, a few days after our leaving the coast of New Zealand, they came alongside the Prince Regent and begged for provisions and some water, saying that they had been lying in a bay a short distance South of Milford Haven, waiting for our departure from the coast. Those who saw them said that they were emaciated and woe-begone to a painful degree. Thecaptain of the Prince Regent, who, both with his own countrymen and strangers, bears the unenviable notoriety of being a niggard, refused to give them a single thing. They left him and went alongside a Maurii schooner, where their wants were supplied—the semi-civilized man, who is sneered at by his more polished cotemporary, displaying the most humanity. Afterward they were seen to go into Open Bay, take aboard several men who had deserted from the Lady Emma, and direct their boat to the northward, where we will leave them, until, in the due course of the narrative, their further exploits are developed.
On the 15th the sun arose amid a pretty fresh gale of wind. Directly after breakfast we sighted sperm whales. The weather looked rather dubious; but we wanted oil very bad—so down went our boats and after them. They were slightly to windward of us, and it was impossible to force our boats to the weather, in the teeth of both sea and wind, so, at 10 o’clock, the boats returned aboard. At 11 we tried it again; at 12 again returned, ate dinner, and, not at all discouraged by the two preceding failures, at two o’clock dropped our boats a third time, after having beat up with the ship to windward of the school. The third attempt proved successful, and, fortunately, the fish struck ran but very little, and was easily disposed of. Some idea may be formed of the hardships of the whaleman’s life, from a recountal of this day’s work. During the whole time that the boats were down, the rain descended in torrents, and the sea was so rugged that it was only by incessant bailing that the boats were kept from swamping. Added to this, the weather was quite cool, and thewind was at such a height that double-reefed topsails were all the ship would hear; yet, despite all this, the brave fellows, when they came aboard, although chilled through and wet to the skin, made light of the difficulties, and stated their willingness and even eagerness to encounter the same hardships again for another whale. The wind continuing, we had a troublesome job the next day in getting him aboard. The following Wednesday, as if fortune was determined to make us some reparation for the former sparsity of her favors, we again saw whales, captured one and got him all aboard the same day—making over two hundred barrels of sperm oil taken by us in ten days. The James Allen was in sight of us when we captured the last two, and had the same chance; her miscarrying, therefore, can be attributed only to the fact of her boats’ crews being unaccustomed to boat duty, and unable to compete with ours—her old crew being pretty nearly all gone, and her boats now manned by men who never saw a whale before. I think that this should be a sufficient inducement for whaling captains to treat their crews well, so as to retain them, when, at the end of two years, they make a good port, they may not have an inefficient, almost helpless crew, instead of able hands to do their behests.
The next Sunday, unlike the two preceding ones, was a day of rest—on one of the former being engaged in whaling, and on the next in cutting-in. Being a line day we gammoned with the James Allen; whilst so employed, we noticed a brig to leeward with her colors set at the mizzen-peak. At first, little attention was paid to her; but the colorscontinuing set, we squared our yards and ran off to her. She proved to be the brig Julia, of Hobartown, five months out, with twenty-eight tons of sperm oil. Her reason for showing her colors was, that she had on board a boat’s crew, who, with two other boats’ crews, now ashore in the vicinity, belonging to the brig Maid of Erin, of Hobartown, separated from their vessel, having lowered for whales just at nightfall, and lost sight of the brig in their eagerness to capture whales. There was no one aboard the Maid of Erin, except a few inexperienced hands, and the boat’s crew expressed their apprehensions of some casualty to her, should it come on to blow. What the result was I never learned, as a short time afterward we left the cape, proceeding northward to Kangaroo Island. Seeing no whales, we changed our course to the westward, passing the Recherche Islands, and having a fine view of Pollock’s Reef—a dangerous line of rocks, a long distance from the main land, extending for several miles, over which the sea roars and tumbles in huge broken masses, impressing the beholder with a sense of danger as he gazes upon it. Just before reaching this locality we saw right whales, but could get nowhere near them. Soon afterward we gammoned the ship Lapwing, of New Bedford; she brought letters from home for us, but gave them to the Alexander, supposing that we still remained off New Zealand. Whilst gammoning with her, a line of dangerous reefs was sighted close to us, and, during the night and following day, we carried sail to get a wide berth from it, and ran the old ship into a school of sperm whales. We lowered away our boats. The second mate fastened, and the whale sounded, takingout most of his line; the third mate ran down and attached his line to it, just in the nick of time, and saved the whale. The whales in this vicinity plunge and sound deeply, when first struck. Half an hour previous to the second mate’s fastening, the first mate struck a fellow that carried off all his line.
About this time a curious malady affected a number of our crew, the seeds of which were sown by exposure to the rains and damp air of the South Pacific. It resembled inflammatory rheumatism, causing excruciating pains in the joints, and resisting all application of medicine. I experienced the affection myself. Having heard of the marvellous efficacy of the oil extracted from the liver of the sun fish, I urged the necessity of procuring some of the article; the captain, coinciding with me, lowered away a boat and captured a sun fish. It was a most curious creature, almost without shape; in weight, I think it would exceed five hundred pounds; it had no scales and no flukes; the after portion of the body appearing as if unfinished; on each side was a long narrow fin. The skin was of a brown color, and as rough as sandpaper. The eye was most beautiful, and the largest and clearest of any creature’s that I ever saw. The bones were soft, and on being exposed to the sun gradually melted away. The flesh is prepared with vinegar and makes excellent eating. The oil, extracted from the liver by expression in the sun, is of a reddish color, and fœtid smell. It proved of great service to me—an application to a stiff joint at night rendering it pliant and free from pain in the morning. Long yarns are spun by seafaring men of the wonderful properties of this oil; they assuring me thata too free use of it was always attended by salivation, and enjoining an application of but a small quantity. I used it pretty freely, but experienced no bad effect from it.
On the 5th of October we picked up a spruce plank, about twelve feet in length and three in breadth; it was copper-fastened, and was adjudged to be part of the keel of a large ship.
On the 17th we ran in and anchored in Frenchman’s Bay, intending to procure a supply of water. This bay is the introduction to King George’s Sound, and is a safe and pleasant harbor. We lay within a mile of the shore, and from a spring close to the beach, procured three hundred barrels of most excellent water. There were no vessels in the bay, but in the sound there was an English barque, the Prince of Wales. She brought out to the sound materials for the erection of two light-houses—one on Point Possession, at the entrance of the sound; the other on Breaksea, at the mouth of Frenchman’s Bay. These have long been needed on the coast, and their advent will be a matter of congratulation to the navigator in these seas. The crew of this vessel refused to proceed in her, alleging as a reason her immoderate leakage, asserting that she was unsafe and unseaworthy. The crew, including the second mate, on the complaint of the captain, were arrested by the authorities, and kept in durance vile until such time as the vessel should leave the port. This probation had now continued for months, and as the crew were determined not to embark in her, a new crew was shipped, and, on the arrival of orders from England, she sailed for some port in the WestIndies. At her departure her former hands were released.
The next day after anchoring was Sunday, and all hands were bound for a run ashore. The bay presented little attraction, but the green appearance of the vegetation was enough to induce us to have a nearer look at it. On landing we found the country covered with the prevailing bush, and as it was in many places dry and inflammable as tinder, we ignited it, and had a rousing fire coursing up the hills like a demon in pursuit of prey. Having tired ourselves with this amusement, we ran along the beach with the intention of shaking the scurvy out of our bones; and as we progressed, saw numbers of mutton-fish, crabs, and limpets. We gathered a sufficient quantity of these shell-fish, roasted them, and had a fresh mess. Proceeding along the beach, over an uneven ridge of boulders, after a walk of about eight miles, we came to the whale fishery. Here we found about a dozen men, who were engaged in a warfare against the humpback and right whales that resort to the bay. They had taken, during the season, two of the former and one of the latter species, yielding them one hundred and seventy barrels of oil; they desired us to set no more bush afire, stating that the smoke or glare of the flames intimidated the whales from entering the bay. From these people we learned that the ships Alexander and James Allen had touched here but a short time previous, and that whilst here both ships had lost men by desertion, and that these men were now knocking about the town, unable to procure employment. The James Allen also lost an anchor here, in about the same spot inwhich she broke her windlass whilst getting under weigh last year. From all accounts her Hobartown crew had been anything but orderly and obedient, so that the captain was glad to be rid of them. Amongst the men at the fishery there were several Americans who had been in this section of the world for years; they did not like the country, and, if we had wanted men, would gladly have engaged and gone home with us.
It is the law of the English government, that no fishing shall be carried on within three miles of the coast of colonies. This law is a dead letter in the Indian Ocean, excepting where their fisheries exist; and I am sure that, had whales made their appearance in this bay whilst we were present, our boats would have been down amongst them. The men at the fishery strongly urged their exclusive right to this privilege; but, at the same time, they informed us that, a few weeks previous, the ship Congress, of New Bedford, had taken a humpback whilst lying where we now were; for, having no casks at the fishery, they were necessitated to buy some from the ship, and because of this favor, they had agreed not to interfere with their prize.
Returning from the fishery, we took a short cut through the bush, which is lower here than any I have seen elsewhere in Australia—no tree or shrub appearing that was over eight feet in height. Amidst the general desolation, beautiful flowers of various descriptions and colors sprung up; forming a strange contrast, and appearing as if Nature, to make amends for the general loneliness and negligence displayed,had caused these gay flowers to flourish here, and truly, as the poet says,
“To waste their sweetness on the desert air.”
On our way down, we continually passed little mounds, shaped like beehives, and constructed of dried grass and sand, arranged to a nicety. At first I was at a loss to tell the true character of these nests; but, on knocking the top off of one of them with my stick, I saw myriads of ants—it being a granary for these insects. On being disturbed, they rushed hither and thither in search of the violator of their domicile, and on discovering him, they ran up his clothing, and bestowed no very gentle bites upon his legs and body. They are much larger than our ants; and, unlike ours, instead of excavating a place of retreat, they build it upon the surface of the earth.
We also saw and destroyed (without knowing what we were killing) several iguanas—little creatures of the lizard species, that abound here in great numbers. They are said to be a fierce enemy of the serpent tribe, and to engage in long and severe contests with his snakeship, and always gain the victory—running, when bitten by him, to a certain herb that acts as a specific. When we were at Hobartown, I was told of a man, named Underwood, who possessed a sure and speedy antidote for the bite of any snake. The government had offered him a large price for his secret, but he refused to divulge it on any terms. He was a convict of the lowest grade, and represented that he first discovered the antidote by observing the iguana running to, and eating it, afterhaving been bitten by his foe. This remedy, which is vegetable, he states to be very common. Its infallibility is implicitly believed in by the residents; and, from their account, even a stranger cannot refuse credence to its worth, after listening to a recital of the many satisfactory tests it has been subjected to by the faculty.
Whilst we were engaged ashore, those who chose to remain on board the ship passed the time in angling. Amongst other specimens of what had been caught, was one known as the snapper, each weighing from twenty to thirty-five pounds. They had scales, and were of a reddish color. Another, known as the groper, from its swimming close to the bottom, weighs from fifty to one hundred and fifty pounds. It has scales on its body, and is black in color. Both these fish have ivory teeth, from a quarter to three-quarters of an inch in length, and of the same shape as those of the sperm whale. Both are good eating, salted or fresh. They require a strong line and stout arm to secure them. Beside these members of the finny tribe, there are also to be found here others of less note: the mackerel, herring, benita, salmon, and whitings—existing in great numbers. We caught and salted a barrel of them; but, from an excess of salt, they were unpalatable, and we were forced to heave them overboard when we got outside.
On returning to the beach to go aboard, we discovered that one of our party was missing. It proved to be a New Bedford boy, who, although his name was John, had been ’yclept Barney, from the first day of our sailing. He was a good-natured fellow,who did not care what name he answered to, and became more accustomed to his alias than to his true cognomen. A call for John would pass unnoticed, when one for Barney would secure his attention in double-quick time. Having no taste for whaling, and being desirous of getting home speedily, he had donned several suits of clothes, and determined to run for it. He separated himself from the rest of the party soon after going ashore, and started directly for the town of Albany, where he arrived at midnight; but finding those who had left the ships before mentioned in a sad predicament—destitute and wretched—he changed his mind, and gave himself up to the captain, who was about instituting a search, and offering a reward for his apprehension. Two days afterward he was aboard the ship again.
On the 21st we had all our work done, but were unable to get to sea, being wind-bound by a heavy easterly gale. The mouth of the bay being narrow, precluded the possibility of our beating out. The gale gradually increased; but our ground-tackle was good, and, with both anchors down, we rode it out. On the afternoon of this day the steamship Simla made her appearance. She is a noble vessel, of twenty-five hundred tons burden—three hundred and sixty-five feet in length. Just before approaching the sound she took the pilot aboard, and under his guidance proceeded in. Here she came to anchor alongside the Larkin, in order to receive her coal—this being, after leaving Melbourne, the first station for fuel for the line of steamships to which she belongs. They remain here for twenty-four hours, and bring hither and convey hence the mail to and fromthe Swan River colony. On the morning after the Simla’s arrival her mails were opened, and hardly an idea can be formed of our surprise on seeing the following announcement in a copy of the Melbourne Weekly Herald:—
“Supposed Loss of the Whaling Barque Pacific, of New Bedford, U. S.“The following letter appeared in the Nelson Examiner of the 16th ult.:“‘To the Editor of the Nelson Examiner.“‘Sir:—I regret to inform you, that there is too much reason to believe that the whaling barque Pacific, of New Bedford, U. S., foundered on the western coast of this Island, on the night of the 21st of May last. As the readiest means of communicating the news to those who are interested in the fate of the vessel and crew, I send you a copy of the deposition of one of the known survivors, which is fully corroborated by the statements of the rest. I have ascertained that the Pacific belonged to the firm of Swift & Perry, of New Bedford; that she had on board three hundred and fifty barrels of oil when she was supposed to have foundered. The names of her officers were: John W. Sherman, master; John Hood, chief mate; John Dexter, second mate; Clarke Allen, third mate. The names of the men who landed on the western coast were: Theodore Jerome, David Jones, William Charles Baylis, Joseph Riley, William Anderson, William Owen, Harvey William Miller, David Ling.“‘Yours, etc.“‘H. G. GOULAND,Resident Magistrate.“‘Collingwood, September 10th, 1857.“‘(Deposition above referred to.)“‘Theodore Jerome, being sworn, said: I am a seaman, and belonged to barque Pacific, of New Bedford; Sherman, master. The barque Pacific belonged to Swift & Perry, of New Bedford. She was a whaler, of three hundred and fifty tons burden. She left New Bedford last June was a twelvemonth. The last port we left was Bunbury, in New Holland. We put in there for supplies, and left in January last. The vessel leaked considerably when we left New Bedford, but in Bunbury she was caulked.“‘We made the coast of New Zealand early in February last. We were whaling off the coast. Shortly after making the coast of New Zealand we experienced several gales of wind, which, according to the captain’s opinion, increased the leakage considerably.“‘On the night of the 21st of May the leakage increased considerably, and the pumps were kept constantly going till near midnight. The carpenter reported the condition of the vessel to be dangerous, and the captain thought it advisable to abandon her. He called all hands aft, and stated the condition of the vessel to them, and advised them to be orderly, and to get in their respective boats without confusion. He turned toMr.Hood, the chief officer, and told him to put the vessel before the wind, to make it easier for the boats to get away from the ship’s side. The captain orderedMr.Allen to clear away the bow-boat, and lower her; at the same time a heavy sea pooped the ship, and swept her fore and aft. The vessel was by this time settling by the stern.There was then an immediate rush for the boats—each man getting in the first that he could. I and others got into the bow-boat. I sawMr.Allen, the third mate, standing on the rail, giving directions for the lowering of the boat. I never saw him afterwards. The boat that I was in escaped from the ship’s side, and we put her before the wind. It was about 11¹⁄₂ o’clock when we were called aft by the captain. It might have been half an hour between that and the time we got clear of the ship’s side. At the time we got into the boat there was another boat in the act of lowering—there may have been more, but that is all that I can say positively. We stood in towards the shore; and made the shore, as nearly as I could judge, about 3¹⁄₂ o’clock in the morning. The boat was stoven in landing. We landed between Milford Haven and Open Bay, on the Milford Haven side of Cascade Point. We had been cruising off and on the shore, and had seen land the previous day. We had been into Milford Haven about a fortnight before this, to get water. From cruising off and on, and repeatedly seeing the land, I was sufficiently acquainted with the coast to know where we landed. At break of day we ascended a hill to look for the ship, but saw nothing of her or of the boats. The weather was very hazy, and it rained heavily then and for several days afterwards; and we saw no wreck, either of vessel or boats. My opinion is, that the currents run outward from the shore, and would carry any wreck out to sea. It was blowing a double-reefed topsail breeze when we left the vessel. The vessel appeared to be water-logged, and was settling by the stern. I think that in allprobability the vessel foundered. We remained where we were for one day, and then endeavored to go to the southward; but the bush was so thick, and obstacles so great, that we could not get on in that direction. We then shaped our course in the other direction, towards Open Bay; that is, to the northward of where we landed. We found natives at Open Bay, and remained with them about a fortnight. A native sealing-boat came into Open Bay while we were there, and from one of the crew, that could speak a little English, we got directions that enabled us to make our way along the coast. We left Open Bay, and made the best of our way along the coast to this place, where we arrived yesterday evening. The names of the persons who landed with me were, William Harvey Miller, David Ling, Joseph Riley, W. C. Baylis, William or John Owen, William Anderson, and David Jones. Miller and Ling have not yet arrived. We left Ling, who is a boy about eighteen years old, with the native sealers at Open Bay. The natives told us that the roads were so bad, that he would not be able to travel. Miller’s feet were too sore to walk, and he remained behind. We found the road very difficult. We crossed several rivers; among others, the Mewera and Kawatiri—the names we got from the natives. Whenever we met with any natives, they proved very kind to us: they fed us, and gave us food to take on with us—this, with fern, shellfish, and whatever we could get, enabled us to live on the journey. I cannot remember the names of all the persons aboard: but I can of a good many of them; and of the officers, the captain’s name was Sherman—I don’t know hisChristian name; the chief mate’s name was Hood; the second mate’s, Dexter; and the third mate’s, Allen. There was also an acting fourth mate and boatsteerer, whose name I do not remember. The number of officers and crew was thirty-two. I am inclined to think, that if any of the other boats escaped, and had any of the officers aboard, they would shape their course to the nearest port—that is, Jacob’s River.“‘(Signed)“‘THEODORE JEROME.“‘Sworn before me, at Collingwood, the tenth day of September, eighteen hundred and fifty-seven.“‘(Signed)“‘H. G. GOULAND,“‘Resident Magistrate.’”
“Supposed Loss of the Whaling Barque Pacific, of New Bedford, U. S.
“The following letter appeared in the Nelson Examiner of the 16th ult.:
“‘To the Editor of the Nelson Examiner.
“‘Sir:—I regret to inform you, that there is too much reason to believe that the whaling barque Pacific, of New Bedford, U. S., foundered on the western coast of this Island, on the night of the 21st of May last. As the readiest means of communicating the news to those who are interested in the fate of the vessel and crew, I send you a copy of the deposition of one of the known survivors, which is fully corroborated by the statements of the rest. I have ascertained that the Pacific belonged to the firm of Swift & Perry, of New Bedford; that she had on board three hundred and fifty barrels of oil when she was supposed to have foundered. The names of her officers were: John W. Sherman, master; John Hood, chief mate; John Dexter, second mate; Clarke Allen, third mate. The names of the men who landed on the western coast were: Theodore Jerome, David Jones, William Charles Baylis, Joseph Riley, William Anderson, William Owen, Harvey William Miller, David Ling.
“‘Yours, etc.
“‘H. G. GOULAND,Resident Magistrate.
“‘Collingwood, September 10th, 1857.
“‘(Deposition above referred to.)
“‘Theodore Jerome, being sworn, said: I am a seaman, and belonged to barque Pacific, of New Bedford; Sherman, master. The barque Pacific belonged to Swift & Perry, of New Bedford. She was a whaler, of three hundred and fifty tons burden. She left New Bedford last June was a twelvemonth. The last port we left was Bunbury, in New Holland. We put in there for supplies, and left in January last. The vessel leaked considerably when we left New Bedford, but in Bunbury she was caulked.
“‘We made the coast of New Zealand early in February last. We were whaling off the coast. Shortly after making the coast of New Zealand we experienced several gales of wind, which, according to the captain’s opinion, increased the leakage considerably.
“‘On the night of the 21st of May the leakage increased considerably, and the pumps were kept constantly going till near midnight. The carpenter reported the condition of the vessel to be dangerous, and the captain thought it advisable to abandon her. He called all hands aft, and stated the condition of the vessel to them, and advised them to be orderly, and to get in their respective boats without confusion. He turned toMr.Hood, the chief officer, and told him to put the vessel before the wind, to make it easier for the boats to get away from the ship’s side. The captain orderedMr.Allen to clear away the bow-boat, and lower her; at the same time a heavy sea pooped the ship, and swept her fore and aft. The vessel was by this time settling by the stern.There was then an immediate rush for the boats—each man getting in the first that he could. I and others got into the bow-boat. I sawMr.Allen, the third mate, standing on the rail, giving directions for the lowering of the boat. I never saw him afterwards. The boat that I was in escaped from the ship’s side, and we put her before the wind. It was about 11¹⁄₂ o’clock when we were called aft by the captain. It might have been half an hour between that and the time we got clear of the ship’s side. At the time we got into the boat there was another boat in the act of lowering—there may have been more, but that is all that I can say positively. We stood in towards the shore; and made the shore, as nearly as I could judge, about 3¹⁄₂ o’clock in the morning. The boat was stoven in landing. We landed between Milford Haven and Open Bay, on the Milford Haven side of Cascade Point. We had been cruising off and on the shore, and had seen land the previous day. We had been into Milford Haven about a fortnight before this, to get water. From cruising off and on, and repeatedly seeing the land, I was sufficiently acquainted with the coast to know where we landed. At break of day we ascended a hill to look for the ship, but saw nothing of her or of the boats. The weather was very hazy, and it rained heavily then and for several days afterwards; and we saw no wreck, either of vessel or boats. My opinion is, that the currents run outward from the shore, and would carry any wreck out to sea. It was blowing a double-reefed topsail breeze when we left the vessel. The vessel appeared to be water-logged, and was settling by the stern. I think that in allprobability the vessel foundered. We remained where we were for one day, and then endeavored to go to the southward; but the bush was so thick, and obstacles so great, that we could not get on in that direction. We then shaped our course in the other direction, towards Open Bay; that is, to the northward of where we landed. We found natives at Open Bay, and remained with them about a fortnight. A native sealing-boat came into Open Bay while we were there, and from one of the crew, that could speak a little English, we got directions that enabled us to make our way along the coast. We left Open Bay, and made the best of our way along the coast to this place, where we arrived yesterday evening. The names of the persons who landed with me were, William Harvey Miller, David Ling, Joseph Riley, W. C. Baylis, William or John Owen, William Anderson, and David Jones. Miller and Ling have not yet arrived. We left Ling, who is a boy about eighteen years old, with the native sealers at Open Bay. The natives told us that the roads were so bad, that he would not be able to travel. Miller’s feet were too sore to walk, and he remained behind. We found the road very difficult. We crossed several rivers; among others, the Mewera and Kawatiri—the names we got from the natives. Whenever we met with any natives, they proved very kind to us: they fed us, and gave us food to take on with us—this, with fern, shellfish, and whatever we could get, enabled us to live on the journey. I cannot remember the names of all the persons aboard: but I can of a good many of them; and of the officers, the captain’s name was Sherman—I don’t know hisChristian name; the chief mate’s name was Hood; the second mate’s, Dexter; and the third mate’s, Allen. There was also an acting fourth mate and boatsteerer, whose name I do not remember. The number of officers and crew was thirty-two. I am inclined to think, that if any of the other boats escaped, and had any of the officers aboard, they would shape their course to the nearest port—that is, Jacob’s River.
“‘(Signed)“‘THEODORE JEROME.
“‘Sworn before me, at Collingwood, the tenth day of September, eighteen hundred and fifty-seven.
“‘(Signed)“‘H. G. GOULAND,“‘Resident Magistrate.’”
It is almost needless to append, in explanation, that the above is a tissue of falsehoods, fabricated by the deserters from our ship, whilst in the South Pacific. Their story is plausible; and, were a person not aware to the contrary, it would obtain implicit credence. It was concocted by the one named Joseph Riley. He is a native of New Jersey—of Irish extraction. He has been for years in the merchant service; and this, united with a previous voyage whaling, rendered him well acquainted with maritime affairs: hence, he found little difficulty in weaving a yarn that sounded plausible enough, although there is not a particle of truth in the whole account—our old ship never having leaked, during the continuance of the voyage thus far, more than enough to keep her sweet; only requiring to bepumped once a week, and then but for a few minutes. The carpenter is an imaginary personage—we never having possessed one: one was shipped in New Bedford, but ran away before we sailed. The person, who, under the name of Theodore Jerome, made the deposition before the magistrate at Collingwood, is supposed to have been in reality John Roberts, a London cockney, who had been transported to Australia. He had been in the Henry H. Crapo for twelve months, but left her in Vasse, and engaged with us; thus escaping the fate of the crew of that vessel, to live and play a rascal’s part in another clime. The true Theodore Jerome is still on board our ship, and justly indignant at the liberties taken with his name. The fact of their assuming it is attributable to their having in their possession an American protection, bearing the name of Theodore Jerome. Roberts is the only one of the party whose description corresponds with that contained in it; and hence we suppose him to be the person who made the affidavit. He is weak-minded, with little intelligence, and totally incapable of giving such an account; except at the instigation of a person like Riley, and afterwards being well drilled, until he was perfected in his part. The other names were real; or, rather, a part were those of our crew, whilst the rest, Owen, Anderson, and Ling, were the names of the deserters from the barque Lady Emma, of Hobartown, whom our fellows took aboard their boat at Open Bay. From their own account, they had pretty rough travelling; but the descriptive part, like the substance of their narrative, may be more romance than reality. But, apart from this, let uscandidly judge their culpability. In the first place, no doubt, they were driven to an extremity by hunger and suffering; and, knowing that, as deserters, they would meet with no sympathy, in such emergency they concocted this method to obtain relief for their necessities: but why did they not, if such was their intention, substitute a fictitious name for that of our ship, and avoid particularizing as they did? Secondly, should any amount of personal suffering induce men to embitter for months the whole tenor of the existence of many happy circles, who, on the reception of such fatal news through relatives and friends, without any rebutting information on the subject, would at once set us down as irrecoverably lost?
Here was a pretty kettle of fish—some thirty-two of us consigned to the tender mercies of David Jones, Esq., the hereditary enemy of our profession, with as little remorse as if we were so many kittens; but, fortunately, the same mail that conveyed the papers containing the baleful news, gave us opportunity to send our own missives explanatory of the proceedings; but then our letters from Hobartown, in July, were sufficient evidence of our safety; so that, although it might create some uneasiness, it would be but evanescent.
Some months before we touched at Frenchman’s Bay, one of our boatsteerers received a letter from his family, in which was contained the report of a vessel having been seen by a merchantman in the South Atlantic, bottom up. She was evidently a whaler, a barque, and bore on her stern the name of Pacific, New Bedford. This was thought to be us,and thus our old ship was given up to the mercies of that ocean over which she had so gallantly rode for more than half a century, and, as far as I am able to judge, still rides as proudly as in her palmiest days—carrying her spars as jauntily as any of the constructions of shipwrights of the present day.
At 10 o’clock on the morning of the 26th, the gale having moderated and the wind shifted to a favorable quarter, we took our departure from Frenchman’s Bay. When directly opposite Baldhead we saw right and humpback whales, bound up the bay. We lowered away, but could get nowhere near them. They saw them from the fishery but met with like success in their attempt to capture one.