– Malvina G. Vogel, Foreword to H. G. Wells, The War of the Worlds, Great Illustrated Classics, Abdo Publishing Company, 2005.
The spear in the seal in the shark in the sand
Several seals were procured on this and the preceding day, and some fish were caught alongside the ship; but our success was much impeded by three monstrous sharks, in whose presence no other fish dared to appear. After some attempts we succeeded in taking one of them; but to get it on board required as much preparation as for hoisting in the launch. The length of it however was no more than twelve feet three inches but the circumference of the body was eight feet. Amongst the vast quantity of substances contained in the stomach, was a tolerably large seal, bitten in two, and swallowed with half of the spear sticking in it with which it had probably been killed by the natives. The stench of this ravenous monster was great, even before it was dead; and when the stomach was opened it, it became intolerable.
– Matthew Flinders, the Investigator, January 12th 1802.
On disabling a navy in 1817
… as we were unable to leave owing to the wind being dead against us. Early next morning there was a great crowd on the beach making a great noise of lamentation over the death of their chief. Closely watching their movements, we concluded that they were about to launch their canoes and make another attack upon us, and we deemed it advisable to prevent them doing so, if we could. Accordingly we immediately manned our two boats, taking arms and ammunition with us, and pulled close to where the canoes were lying, determined if possible to destroy them at once. As the boats neared the shore the Natives made back into the bush. One of the boat’s crew landed: the other kept afloat, to cover the men on shore with their muskets. With three long cross-cut saws the whole navy was speedily disabled. On seeing the havoc that was being made of their canoes, some of the more daring of the Natives ventured out of their cover and made a rush at our men, but a well-directed volley levelled several of their number, and terrified the rest so that they again took to the bush.
Both sides are now highly excited and bent on revenge.
– Unknown informer, 1817, Frank Tod, “The Sophia Affair”, in Whaling in Southern Waters, Dunedin City Council, Dunedin, 1986, p. 138.
Dear Mr Kelly
21 May 1833
Otago, New Zealand.
To Mr James Kelly.
Sir,
This to certify that the Natives of Otago have threatened to take your ship from Capt. Lovett, stating that you had formally (sic) killed or wounded several years ago some of their people and that they would have revenge. Most of the people also deserted the vessel at the above Port.
I have the honour to be,
Your obedient Servt.
J. B. Weller
– Frank Tod, “The Sophia Affair”, in Whaling in Southern Waters, Dunedin City Council, Dunedin, 1986, p. 139.
Mr Thistle’s doomsayer
This evening, Mr Fowler told me a circumstance which I thought extraordinary; and afterwards it proved to be more so. Whilst we were lying at Spithead, Mr Thistle was one day waiting on shore, and having nothing else to do he went to see a certain old man named Pine, to have his fortune told. The cunning man informed him that he was going out on a long voyage, and that the ship, on arriving at her destination, would be joined by another vessel. That such was intended he might have learned privately; but he added, that Mr Thistle would be lost before the other vessel joined. As to the manner of his loss, the magician refused to give any information. My boat’s crew, hearing what Mr Thistle said went along also to consult the wise man and after the prefatory information of a long voyage, were told that they would be shipwrecked but not in the ship they were going out in: whether they would escape and return to England, he was not permitted to reveal.
This tale Mr Thistle had often told at the mess table; and I remarked with some pain in a future part of the voyage, that every time my boat’s crew went to embark with me in the Lady Nelson, there was some degree of apprehension amongst them that the time of the predicted shipwreck had arrived. I make no comment upon this story but recommend a commander if possible to prevent any of his crew from consulting fortune tellers.
– Matthew Flinders, the Investigator, February 22nd 1802. (Mr Thistle had drowned the previous evening.)
Cave sealing
The other youngster and I stayed on the bridge to drag out the seals from the two inside. They kindled a light, and when they reached the end of the cave, there was a beach full of seals there – big and little, male and female. Bainirseach is the name of the female seal, and the male is called the bull. There are some of them that it’s absolutely impossible to kill.
– Tomas O’Crohan, The Islandman, Oxford University Press, Oxford (1937), 2000, p. 99.
Heterotopia of the boat
Brothels and colonies are two extreme forms of heterotopia, and if we think, after all, that the boat is a floating piece of space, a place without a place, that exists by itself, that is closed in on itself and at the same time is given over to the infinity of the sea and that, from port to port, from tack to tack, from brothel to brothel, it goes as far as the colonies in search of the most precious treasures they conceal in their gardens, you will understand why the boat has not only been for our civilisation, from the sixteenth century until the present, the great instrument of economic development (I have not been speaking of that today), but has also been simultaneously the greatest reserve of the imagination. The ship is the heterotopia par excellence. In civilisations without boats, dreams dry up, espionage takes the place of adventure, and the police take the place of pirates.
– Michel Foucault, “Of Other Spaces”, Diacritics vol. 16. no. 1, Spring 1986, pp. 22–27.
Romancing the Sound
Night
Kartiac
Day
Ben, bennan
Star
Chindy
Moon
Meuc
Sun
Chaat
Thunder
Condernore
Lightning
Yerdivernan
Morning
Mania
Tomorrow
Maniana
Yesterday
Kartiac kain
By and by
Poordel
Just now
Yibbel
Some time since
Corram
Long time since
Corram quatchet
Evening
Corramellon
Cold
Mulgan
Hot or warm weather
Ureler
Young
Eeniung, tooting
Sleep
Copil
Sleep together
Copil nahluc
Listen
Yuccan
– Surgeon Nind, King George Sound, 1827.
Moennan and Manilyan
Wanting to know the ideas of the blacks of the origin of mankind, I got him [Mokare] this evening after some difficulty to understand my questions, when he told me that a very long time ago the only person living was an old woman named Arregain who had a beard as large as the garden. She was delivered of a daughter & then died. The daughter called Moenang grew up in course of time to be a woman, when she had several children, (boys & girls), who were the fathers and mothers of all the black people.
[Mokare] [t]old me this evening that Moken had commenced, which he knew by the situation of the Black Magellanic cloud near the cross (Whitepepoy). They have some story which I could not clearly make out, of its being an emu and laying eggs. The larger White Magellanic cloud he called the Chucadark & mentioned the names of several stars. One brilliant one was shortly to be seen, called Manilyen.
– Collet Barker, in John Mulvaney and Neville Green, Commandant of Solitude. The Journals of Captain Collet Barker 1828–1831, Melbourne University Press, 1992, p. 289.
Splinter, King of Breaksea Island
I should mention that on Breaksea Isl
and, there are a vast number of European dogs, evidently the produce of animals left there, by ships passing. How they managed to subsist themselves, it is difficult to conceive, but there they certainly are, and if a ship in coasting along the shore, fires a shotted gun at the rocks, she will be speedily answered by the loudest barking.
– Colonel Hansen, The Perth Gazette and Western Australian Journal, January 26th 1833.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
It takes many more people than an author to create a book. Firstly my most heartfelt thanks go to two amazing women who have been my bedrock over the last five years: Kathryn Trees and my mum Carmelita O’Sullivan. I’d also like to thank my dad John Drummond and my children, Maya Pearl Drummond and Morgan Lindberg.
For ideas, inspiration and friendship: Bob Howard, Michelle Frantom, Murray Arnold, Carol Petterson, Lynette Knapp, Chris Pash, Vernice Gilles, Penny Bird, Lester Coyne, Harley Coyne, Jon Doust, Simon Smale, Tuaari Kuiti, Yann Toussaint, Alex Levak, Ron Fewster, Sheilah Ryan and Paul Ireland, Colin Ryan, Selina Hill and Jay Cook, Karen Atkinson, Kim Scott, Jim Everett, Patsy Cameron, Tarquin Smart, Tim and Justine Gamblin, Aileen Walsh, Julie Gough, Dan Cerchi, Malcolm Traill, Ciaran Lynch, Melissa Collins, Adam Wolfe and Bill North.
Colin and Holly Story, staff at the UWA Albany campus and Mike Murphy have given me quiet, beautiful places to write. The support and guidance of the Fremantle Press team is incredible and in particular I’d like to acknowledge Georgia Richter’s intuitive editorial input into the manuscript that became The Sound.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sarah Drummond lives on the south coast of Western Australia. She is the author of Salt Story: of sea-dogs and fisherwomen, a memoir and social history of commercial estuarine fishers. In 2014, Salt Story was longlisted for the Dobbie Literary Award and shortlisted for the Western Australian Premier’s Book Awards. The Sound is her first novel.
ALSO BY SARAH DRUMMOND
Too few writers capture the essence of now: the flavour, smell, feel, language. But Sarah Drummond has done it. Her account of a fishing community on the south coast of Western Australia is a gift. Salt – a real person but not his real name – delivers his philosophy while teaching Sarah the tricks, craft and dodges of making a living from the sea. Salt should be sent to lecture in the corridors of Canberra and corporate board rooms. Vital reading.
– Chris Pash, author of The Last Whale
AVAILABLE FROM FREMANTLEPRESS.COM.AU AND ALL GOOD BOOKSTORES
Sound Page 18
