Within a few days, sailing conditions improved, much to the relief of everyone. Winds abated to a strong breeze. The sun came out. These conditions especially favoured Coromandel, and Perseus lagged in her wake. As they drew apart Stirling signalled his intention to sail straight to Port Jackson without stopping at any other port. Coromandel would be the first convict ship to do so.
This was not an option for the smaller ship and with the threat of a French attack now reduced because of the distance they’d travelled, Davison was happy to continue alone. Stirling raised the flags signalling ‘God speed’ and ‘good sailing’ and sailed away. Coromandel would arrive in Port Jackson on the 13 June 1802, taking just four months to make the journey.
Now the weather had settled, Davison was anxious to ensure the convicts had time on deck to stretch their legs and take in the fresh air. Most of them had spent months, if not years, on the hulks, doing manual labour under extreme conditions, and he needed to rehabilitate them if they were to make a worthwhile contribution to the colony. Regular food, exercise, fresh air and the attention of the surgeon were the keys. To achieve this safely he instructed smaller groups, under the eye of guards, to come up at regular intervals each day. Within this time there was to be exercises and medical checks. Schooling for the younger convicts also recommenced.
The diet on board consisted of gruel, a thin oat porridge, bread and salt beef with a mug of wine. The menu was changed weekly with additions such as raisins, peas, butter, pork and fresh fruit.
Once a week all were required to bath in seawater and use a stiff brush and cake of hard soap. Not particularly pleasant, in William’s opinion, but refreshing nonetheless, especially as they sailed into warmer weather. He also watched the twice-weekly shaving and was glad his face had not started to grow whiskers. The convicts had to shave with cold water using poorly maintained and often rusty razors.
After forty days at sea, Perseus crossed the equator. All aboard enjoyed a momentary celebration. But the high temperatures and humidity had become hard to bear, on top of which William got sunburned.
Security was becoming a little more relaxed, and some of the convicts were allowed to resume their pastime from the hulks of making model boats and handicrafts. The ship’s carpenter gave the prisoners small leftover timber from the running repairs he was required to do on board. He saw the things William fashioned with it and was impressed with the skill of one so young. He asked the captain’s permission for William to be his labourer and work next to him from time to time, which Davison gave.
‘Son,’ the carpenter said to William. ‘I’ve been mightily impressed with your timber work. Cap has given permission for you to be a helper to me.’
‘Sir, that be great,’ replied William. ‘When can I start?’
‘Right about now.’
William’s skills with hammer and chisel improved and he enjoyed the break from the routine, doing something he particularly enjoyed.
Routines. Days on end.
His arms and face were becoming bronzed, and he looked healthy.
On 9 April 1802, Perseus arrived at Rio de Janeiro to restock for the run to the Cape of Good Hope. Davison was aware that here was a great opportunity to buy fruit that would keep the scourge of scurvy at bay. Stories of the supplies in Rio had been passed down through generations of sailors. Trips to the local markets soon saw the hull filled with bananas, watermelons, pineapples, mangoes and other tropical fruit. Fresh beef and seafood were also brought aboard and the ship’s water supply was cleansed and refilled.
William and his mates were in awe of the port on Guanabara Bay. Never before had they seen tropical forests, palm trees and vines growing to the edge of white, sandy beaches. Colourful birds screeched and flew over the ship. The fruits hauled aboard looked and smelled different to anything they had known. William was eager to try them but he would have to wait until they were distributed.
After a week, the ship was fully replenished and Perseus left Rio for the Cape, arriving there on 25 May 1802. William gazed up at the prominent landmark called Table Mountain, which overshadowed the bay. Its flat top was partially shrouded in cloud, and William was overawed by its mysterious beauty.
Water, beef and fruit were again stocked up on and enough supplies to feed the convicts for nine months. William was doubtful the tottering and precarious wharf could hold all that was being loaded. Davison, under instruction, also bought cattle, which were swum out to the ship and hauled aboard.
When Perseus left the Cape, the ultimate challenge Davison had dreamed of was truly upon him. He had been advised to catch the southern winds between 40 and 50 degrees latitude. But he also knew that going up to 10 degrees further south could cut 1,000 miles off the journey and offered the strongest winds. He needed to weigh up the risk of icebergs and fierce winds against a fast passage. All his skills as an experienced mariner would be needed. He chose a course he hoped would get the ship safely and swiftly to Port Jackson.
Routines. Days on end. For two months.
Perseus encountered mountainous waves and the biting Antarctic winds. Extra blankets and warmer clothes were issued to all and extra rations provided to help maintain health.
At the end of July, the southernmost point of Van Diemen’s Land was sighted, then rounded, and the ship, at last, turned to port and headed in a northeasterly direction, away from the cold of the Southern Ocean.
Thereafter the weather became calmer. On board the ship the convicts were able to relax somewhat and regain their strength. Special attention was given to cleanliness. Most marvelled at the glimpses of the distant shores.
Davison checked his charts. Perseus had passed Botany Bay and about two hours later found the entrance to Sydney Harbour.
Passing the southern headland, they drove west before turning to port and into the harbour proper. It was 4 August 1802, nearly six months since their departure.
The colours were hoisted off the southern headland and the harbour master came aboard. The ship was worked up the harbour during the course of the day. As he stood at the helm Davison recalled the words of Captain Arthur Phillip: ‘a thousand sail of the line may ride in the most perfect security’. Then the command was finally given to drop anchor.
As Davison scanned the shoreline and the docks, he noticed a crowd of people, many waving. A ship from their homeland, with news, letters, provisions and an extra workforce was more than welcome.
Attentions were soon drawn to the logistics of moving people and freight to the shore. This was done in a timely, ordered manner, and completed within the week. Free settlers were rowed ashore first.
Once all the free settlers had disembarked the prisoners were brought up on deck. William looked around for the ship’s carpenter and nodded his appreciation to the man for taking him under his wing and teaching him some of the rudiments of a new trade.
Lieutenant-Governor William Paterson, the commanding officer of the New South Wales Corps, had boarded the ship, and he addressed them.
‘Each one of you is here to serve out your sentence. Do not ever forget that you are a convict.’ He looked at the healthy, even eager-looking faces around him. ‘This will be harder than you think,’ he warned them. ‘There are no prison cells and no physical walls here to remind you. However, you must remain in the area of this town. Government approval is always needed to go anywhere else.’
Paterson paused to give added emphasis to his next statement.
‘Those of you who cause trouble, breech the peace or attempt escape will face the lash, the stocks, or be sent to Norfolk Island. Food and some clothing will be supplied from the government stores. Everyone must take their bedding and mess kit with them from this ship. On the dock each of you will be issued with a tent, which you can erect in any space you can find on the western side of the cove.
‘Those leaving this area in the morning need to return their tent before they leave. If you are assigned to stay in town, you are encouraged to find some land on the hill above wher
e your tent will be and construct some accommodation. Return your tent to the government stores when you’re done.’
The cattle had survived the journey and Governor King acquired them for £35 a head. The tea chests full of clothing caused enormous excitement among the settlers, who felt severed from all that was familiar and, in their eyes, civilised. The chests held 2,250 red jackets, the same number of duck waistcoats and trousers, 750 blue jackets, the same number of pantaloons and 2,500 hats, 2,500 pairs of shoes and 500 pair of boots. These were delivered quickly to the government stores. Of particular interest to the tailors and dressmakers of the town was the chest containing sewing paraphernalia. Included in this were 1,000 needles, some thimbles, cockades and feathers, buttons and eleven pounds of thread.
When it was William’s turn to be offloaded he came up the wooden ladder for the last time, blinked a few times to adjust to the bright sunlight and looked around, taking it all in. This harbour was quite different from the others he had seen. The countryside was flatter, less, dramatic, but the coastline was gloriously windy, with hundreds of beautiful inlets that looked wonderful to explore. Along the mouth of a stream appeared a bustling town, with rows and clusters of small houses behind, ending at the fringe of a forest.
Such clean, crisp air. And another, unfamiliar scent. A fragrance from the forest, the soft smell of eucalyptus. William dared to imagine life here may not be as hard as he had feared it would be.
Within a few days of the Perseus arriving, Governor King wrote a letter to the Transport Commission:
The healthy state in which the Coromandel and the Perseus arrived requires my particularly pointing out the masters of those ships to your notice. It appears by the log books, surgeon’s diaries and the unanimous voice of every person on board those ships of the utmost kindness to the convicts. This, with the proper application of the comforts Government had so liberally provided for them and the good state of health all the people were in, induced the master of the Coromandel to proceed without stopping at any port. He arrived here in four months and one day, bringing every person in a state of high health, and fit for immediate labour; and although it appears the Perseus necessarily stopped at Rio and the Cape, yet the convicts were in as good condition as those on board the Coromandel; nor can I omit the great pleasure felt by myself and the other visiting officers at the grateful thanks expressed by the prisoners and passengers for the kind attention and care they had received from the masters and surgeons, who returned an unusual quantity of the articles laid In by Government for the convicts during the voyage.
Once all was done Davison allowed shore leave for the weary sailors and guards.
After exchanging greetings with some of the local settlers, Davison strolled to the Government Domain. From there, he looked across the harbour, and breathed in the pure air with a feeling of contentment and pride. He had delivered all 113 male convicts and the free settlers in good health and conquered the great Southern Ocean. He had conquered his self-imposed challenge. Now it was time to see to the cleanup of the ship and his thoughts turned to China. Another challenge.
9.
The Dockyard Apprentice
SYDNEY TOWN, 1802
A flotilla of small boats had surrounded Perseus as it sat anchored in the harbour. From each, expectant faces were turned upward. ‘No women on here!’ the ship’s sailors yelled down.
Once on the dock, the convicts, as was standard, were lined up to be inspected by Governor King. King and Davison walked up and down the lines, noting the good general health and asking each convict their name and occupation. The Governor looked troubled when some of the younger-looking convicts gave their age. Children. To think they had been confined on the ship for months on end with much older, and often, hardened criminals. What to do with these boys?
Apprenticeships were the obvious answer. The alternative, in the Governor’s mind, was that these boys would remain unskilled labourers and would place a burden on the colony for years to come. There was more than enough unskilled labour available from the older convicts.
Before returning to his ship Davison asked about Coromandel and its unexpected absence from the harbour. The Governor told him it had arrived in early June, after only 121 days at sea, which he thought may have been some sort of record and had left at the end of July for Canton. Unlike Perseus, it had suffered one convict death onboard but overall it was a very successful voyage.
The Warwickshire boys collected their tents and made their way to the campsite. They found a spot where they could be together, supporting each other as usual. The boys had been warned about the dangers faced in the colony and once it had been explained to them it was obvious to see. People lounging around consuming alcohol, filth on the muddy dirt roads, and the ever-present dangerous Corps militiamen.
With this mind they explored the town, walking the roads and narrow laneways. They found rows of small huts, windmills grinding grain, storehouses, the government and private wharves, a military battery, two larger homes, one obviously for the Governor, and the other the home of Lieutenant-Governor Paterson, whom they had seen earlier, plus a hospital and a marketplace. They watched women washing clothes and young children playing in the stream that divided the town.
At dusk they retreated to a small open fire on which they had warmed the meals they each had collected from the government stores. They would all be going their separate ways in the morning. Promises were made to keep in touch. Thomas Hughes had been told he would be going to Newcastle to be a constable, Henry had been chosen to go west to Windsor to work for a settler in the farming area out there and Thomas Stokes was being sent to Parramatta to work on a government project. William, according to King’s edict, was to stay in the town and start work in the dockyards as an apprentice shipwright.
Perfect, he thought. He wished his mum was here to see her son, the shipwright, and as soon as he had the thought he was hit by a wave of grief. It seemed like this was the real punishment – the intense pain and loneliness of separation he somehow had to endure. And now he was losing the daily contact with his friends, who had kept him afloat for so long. Nevertheless, he knew he had to stay ‘tough’, working with his inner strength. He felt sure that new friendships would develop in the dockyard. He just had to endure as he had since his arrest in Nuneaton. Time to double down.
The next morning William walked the short distance from his tent down to the dockyards. He was introduced to the master boatbuilder, Thomas Moore, who had constructed the King’s Dockyard. Moore, looking through his thick beard and chewing on his well-worn pipe, welcomed William. A new apprentice was vital to the dockyard to replace the older convicts who got their ticket and had moved on to new pursuits.
The dockyard was a busy place, regularly employing twenty-eight men on surveys, repairs and refitting of ships for their onward journey. Along with the nearby lumberyard, it was one of the two biggest centres of convict employment.
William didn’t have time to dwell on his feelings, but he was pleased to learn he would receive no theoretical training though it was an advantage that he had some basic reading and arithmetic skills. Perhaps those school lessons had been useful after all.
Moore assigned him to a shipwright who would guide and teach him through the next ten years of his apprenticeship. His hours of work were 7 am to 3 pm Monday to Friday and till midday on Saturday. Outside these times, like all convicts, William was allowed to work for payment. At the dockyard most worked during their time off on building and selling the small boats used to move around the harbour. Five or six gallons of spirits was the going price for a small boat. A week would complete one good enough to sail on the harbour.
Initially William did not have all the skills to be involved in this sideline industry but soon, using his knowledge of tools gained on the hulk and Perseus, and under the guidance of experienced carpenters, he was able to assist on these projects and earn a small income.
There were a number of men in the dockyard William quick
ly learned to avoid. They were called ‘the brothers’. They were the hard and rough segment of the dockyard. Nasty men, quick to temper and liable to throw a punch at the merest provocation. Best to avoid eye contact and keep your distance, William quickly learned.
Working every day with harder and heavier timber, and learning how to use the much heavier tools than those of a carpenter, was a challenge and William revelled in it. The key tools he used were the axe, adze and auger. He was shown how to use a single handsaw and to work as a team on the two-man crosscut saws, to use the heavy axes and hatches for hewing the timbers, to bore holes with the auger into which tree nails were driven with a maul, which was a large hammer with a flat face. He was also taught how to use the iron nails and spikes to fasten deck planks.
One afternoon in late October 1802, William was clearing away his tools and preparing to leave his workplace when he heard a rumble of thunder and saw dark clouds approaching from the south. There had been a few similar storms in past weeks and they could be dangerous. They were short lived but the winds were strong, torrential rain fell, sometimes with hail, and always with lightning.
As the storm cell neared, the sky darkened to black. William and his colleagues took cover.
Suddenly they heard the booming roar of timbers splitting. It turned out Perseus, still in the harbour, had been hit by lightning. A large portion of its rigging crashed to the deck.
Davison had spent the past two months using a convict gang to clean Perseus from top to bottom and had removed the bulkheads and bunk beds from the convict quarters to make space for the tea he would pick up in Canton, China and sell in England. It would be a devastating blow to him if Perseus was ruined. How would he even return home?
After the storm, a team of shipwrights declared that the mast was intact and there was no structural damage to the ship. The damage was superficial and easily repairable.
The Tailor and the Shipwright Page 8
