No 49 Port Lincoln
Members of Aboriginal, Torres Strait Islander and Maori communities are advised that this text may contain names and images of deceased people. Readers should also be aware that certain words, terms or descriptions are culturally sensitive and are considered inappropriate today, but may have reflected the author’s/creator’s attitude or that of the period in which they were written.
TOWNS, PEOPLE, AND THINGS WE OUGHT TO KNOW
Early Times In Port Lincoln Discovery And Exploration
By OUR SPECIAL REPRESENTATIVE
No.XLIX.
The history of Port Lincoln began in 1802, when Matthew Flinders landed there to take observations of the magnificent harbor — second only to one in Australia. That was 131 years ago. South Australia has done nothing with that great heritage. Probably she never will. But the day will come when Port Lincoln will be the capital of a separate State, and then the harbor will come into its own.
Port Lincoln nearly became the capital of South Australia. Personally I regret that it didn't. If Light hadn't been hypnotised by the beauty of the Adelaide plains the city would have been planted somewhere on the great waterway, which has as its only rival in the Commonwealth the world famed Sydney Harbor. After he had seen the present site of Adelaide, no other place had a chance with Light. He saw the hill locked plains before he saw Lincoln. Thereafter he was prejudiced against all other sites. Somewhere I have seen a statement by the first Surveyor General (made before he had seen the West Coast) that it was waste of time to inspect Lincoln, since nothing could be better than these lands lying at the foot of the Mount Lofty Ranges. Light went to Lincoln because his orders required him to do so, but I have always felt it was a one-eyed inspection. Things might have turned out otherwise had he seen Port Lincoln first.
But, don't misapprehend me. I am not implying that Light was wrong in locating the capital where he did. We who can look back on history know that had the capital been on the peninsula the young province would never have survived the critical period of its infancy. South Australia was an experiment in colonisation. Like most experiments, its initial stage was marred by catastrophic blunders, not so much the work of those on the spot — though heavens knows they were bad enough— but chiefly due to those in England who would insist on giving instructions on matters of which they were necessarily and entirely ignorant.
Adelaide survived that crisis because she was able to feed the migrants who poured in faster than they could be absorbed. But it is doubtful if that could have been done at Port Lincoln. Light, when he fixed on the site of the metropolis, could not have foreseen that. But accident justified his choice. How near Port Lincoln came to being the seat of government will appear when I tell you that Governor Hindmarsh, in the Buffalo, actually called there before coming to Holdfast Bay, in the belief that it would certainly be the first settlement. There he was met by Captain Lipson, who directed him on to Adelaide.
Named By Flinders
Port Lincoln was named by Flinders. So were Boston Bay and many other places in the vicinity. Flinders was born at Donington, in Lincolnshire. It was in honor of his native county that he bestowed the name he did. Likewise, Boston Bay is taken from Boston (Lincolnshire). I am surprised that Flinders chose that designation, seeing that, less than thirty years previously Boston Bay, in Massachusetts, held that famous "tea party," which was the forerunner of the rebellion and loss of our American colonies.
From the harbor one gets a view of Stamford Hill (another Lincolnshire appellation), whose summit is crowned by a monument to the great navigator. This monument was erected by Lady Franklin, carrying out the wish of her husband. Sir John Franklin, Lieutenant-Governor of Tasmania, later the hero of Arctic exploration and discoverer of the North-West Passage, who left his bones amid the illimitable wastes of the northern ice. Franklin had been a subordinate of Flinders on the famous voyage round the South Australian coast.
Story Of A Monument
There is a story about that monument. Lady Franklin wanted it erected on the exact site on which Flinders stood when he made his observations. When this delicate lady came across from Tasmania in a small brig to locate the spot she had to climb an almost inaccessible height, which would have daunted the sturdiest male. But she did it. Then her party got to it with geometry, trigonometry, geodesy, geodynamics, and all the other sciences, ancient and modern, by which the secrets of old Earth's figure are torn from her unwilling bosom, to work out just where the historic Matthew had planted his "size nines."
Here a fresh difficulty arose. The mountain was so highly magnetised that the instruments would not behave themselves. As soon as they were planted on the ground they got up to all sorts of capers, more in keeping with the syncopated antics of a jazz band than the grave and sedate behavior one might expect from apparatus with a scientific bent.
Then the idea occurred to somebody of mounting the giddy things pick-a-back fashion on a man. That did it. The humiliated equipment was brought back to earth with a thud, and the party were able to establish to the nth fraction of an inch just where Flinders stood. But don't ask me how they did it. I would hate to have to confess that I don't know.
However, the monument was put there, and it is there to this day. It bears the inscription: —
SLSA [PRG 280/1/12/380] 1900
This place, from which the gulf and its shores were first surveyed on 28th February, 1802, by Matthew Flinders, R.N., commander of H.M.C. Investigator, the discoverer of the country now called South Australia, was set apart on 12th January, 1841, with, the sanction of Lieutenant Colonel Gawler, K.H., then Governor of the colony, and in the first year of the government of Captain G. Grey (was) adorned with this monument to the perpetual memory of the illustrous navigator, his beloved commander, by John Franklin, captain R.N., K.C &.., K.R., Lieutenant Governor of Van Dieman's Land.
SLSA [B 15276/13]
Every year the townspeople make a pilgrimage to the obelisk, undeterred by the long, stiff, climb, which lands them breathless at the summit of Stamford Hill. It is the town's annual tribute to the memory of the great navigator. The monument has been a widely-known landmark for 92 years. In its old age it is tenderly guarded by a small committee, who see to it that, as far as possible, the ravages of time are repaired.
Discovery And Re-Discovery
Unless History prevaricates— and in this case I do not see why the jade should— Flinders was the first white man to disturb the tranquility of the kangaroos in this part of Terra Incognito in 1802. The next date of im portance is 1839 — the year Port Lincoln was founded. But in the intervening 37 years the harbor was visited by many wanderers of the sea — mostly whalers, but some of them explorers. For example, the French navigators, Peron and Freycinet, rolled into the harbor almost on the heels of Flinders, "discovered" the port, and called it "Champagny." You see, in those days "La Naturaliste" and "Le Geographe" made a hobby of discovering the same places that the "Investigator" had visited just a short time before. But that was Fate— and I have no wish to throw bricks at these truly great Frenchmen.
The natives called Port Lincoln “Kallinyalla,” After Flinders had discovered Port Lincoln, and Peron et Cie had rediscovered it a few weeks later, it lay forgotten for a few years, except by a few whalers from Port Jackson, and perhaps some of the sealers on Kangaroo Island, who found its waters so profitable that they kept its secret among themselves. Then, in 1810, it was again "discovered." In the "Sydney Gazette" of April 14 of that year, is a paragraph which is worth quoting in full:—
Information has been received of a fine harbor, equal to that of Port Jackson, recently discovered by the Endeavor people about seventy miles north-west of Kangaroo Island, on the western coast of New Holland; the natives thereabouts appearing to be rather numerous and rather timid, none ever approaching the Europeans. Emus and kangaroos abundant, the country thickly wooded, and the head of the harbor constantly watered by a large run not less than six feet in depth, which appears to derive its source from a neighboring marsh. The discovery was made in consequence of the people being obliged to leave the islands on which they were stationed to procure water from the mainland. Unexpectedly falling within headlands, they entered a distance of about fifteen miles up, before they found the inner harbor, or cove, as above described.
One is enabled to identity this Endeavour by a paragraph in the same paper nearly a fortnight prior to the foregoing announcement:— "The Colonial brig Endeavour, Captain Hammond, arrived on Sunday last from Kangaroo Island with a cargo of salt."
Early Visitors
The next visitor of whom any record has been left was Captain Peter Dillon, who was there in 1815. He remained two days. This was the same Captain Dillon who was destined later (1826) to discover the remains of the ill-fated French explorer, La Perouse, the mystery of whose disappearance had up till Dillon's discovery of the French ships piled up on the rocks of an island north of the New Hebrides, remained one of the much-discussed secrets of the sea.
Then, in 1827, and again in 1828, Captain George Goold, first in the Snapper and later in the Jackass, visited Boston Bay to study its possibilities as a sealing centre. He remained three weeks. Goold was a retired naval officer (formerly master of H.M.S. Dryad), and therefore competent to form a reliable judgment of the suitability of the place as a site for the first settlement. He was enthusiastic in its praise.
Frederick Homburg, in the brig Socrates, was the next notable visitor of pre-settlement days. His period was May, 1832. Homburg anchored on the eastern side of the cove in seven fathoms of water, and found the harbor almost completely land-locked. He explored about a mile and a half inland, and discovered "two streams of fine water, as clear as crystal." The reason of his visit to Lincoln was to take there a party of thirty whalers, "with five boats and the necessary implements."
This was the fourth successive season that these whalers had visited the harbor— pretty positive proof of the productivity of the bays in the matter of sportive giants whose job it is to grow blubber to increase tine bank balances of certain sections of the genus homo. Having plenty of time to look about him. Homburg was able to make observations which, a few years later, when Wakefield and his supporters were looking for a site for a settlement, proved of considerable value to the authorities in England. He found that among the trees were cedar(which would cut into 2-ft. planks), huon pine, and ironbark. There was plenty of wood which would serve for shipbuilding, and for spars. The grass was about knee-deep, in great quantity, and quite green. Numbers of kangaroos and other animals were feeding on it. The kangaroos "were as large and as fat as any I have seen elsewhere."
A few months ago, when I wrote about Melrose, I told you I would have something to say when I got to Port Lincoln about the savagery of the West Coast blacks. I will give you that spasm of horror next week. Meantime, here is Homburg's picture of our copper-colored brethren in 1832:— "The natives are numerous and peaceful, and assisted us in carrying water to the ships, and in other matters. For a little tobacco, and with kind treatment, I am convinced they will work well."
I will reserve my comments on that observation of Biljim's character until I come to tell you of the things he did in 1841-2, and why he did them.
First Settlers
The first settlers of Port Lincoln were smitten by dreams of fortune. So were many other people in Adelaide who looked on the new settlement on Eyre Peninsula as destined to outrival Adelaide. That was because of its magnificent harbor. The special survey was taken out on February 27, 1839. The original owners were: —
No. 1 Special Survey— C. Smith, B. Shaen, W. F. Porter, H. Hawson, Porter Hawson, J. E. Barnard. J. Stuckey, E. Gillman, J. Barnett, C. Fenn, R. Tod, Crawford, C. Smith & Co., C. C. Dutton, J. Knot, Boswarva, Captain J. Bishop, B. Wickham. E. Hawson, W. Williams, Captain H. Hawson, W. Wil liams, H. Austin, G. A. Anstey, Mitchell J. Walker, and G. Stevenson.
No. 2 Special Survey— Champlay, O. Gilles, Rollason, Flaxman, Rodwell, O. Philip, P. Horrocks, W. Wyatt, Heading and Fendon, T. and J. Shepherd, G. Deheane, M. Smith, H. Giles, J. Phillipson, J. Hindmarsh, A. Pordham, Slater, Richardson, Denham & Co., Reynell, C.B. Rodwell, J. B. Neales, J. F. Clay, William Giles, jun., R. Beevor, C. Beck, R. Bernard, Lillyman, and T. Allen.
Some of these men were mere speculators who disposed of their blocks soon after they got them. The descendants of others still hold the original properties. Others again were probably just dummies. There are historic names in this list. There are for example, Captain H. Hanson, of the "Abeona," whose younger brother Francis was the first white murdered by the blacks on Eyre Peninsula, and whose tragic story I will retell next week; Captain Porter, who built the first house in Port Lincoln, and become a resident magistrate; Robert Tod, who led the party which explored the country prior to the special survey being taken out, and whose name was given to the Tod River Reservoir; C. C. Dutton who, after being forced to abandon his station by the hostility of the niggers, was murdered by them while on his way over land to Adelaide; Captain Beevor, another victim of the ferocity of the wild children of the bush; Osmond Gilles, the first Colonial Treasurer, who always had a shrewd eye for a promising piece of South Australian soil; and young Hindmarsh, son of the first Governor of the province. We shall meet many of them again as the story develops.
"Much Better Place Than Adelaide."
The taking up of this special survey created something in the nature of a land boom in the city. The most extravagant opinions were entertained about the future of Port Lincoln, chiefly based, of course, on the wonders of the harbor, and land in the new settlement changed hands at extraordinary prices. This was in 1839. There is in possession of the Bickford family in Adelaide a letter written by William Bickford, the founder of the big firm of wholesale druggists, when he was a struggling clerk in the infant days of the State. It makes interesting reading in this year of distress, 1933. I propose to quote a part bearing on the founding of Port Lincoln. It is dated nearly a century ago, April 16, 1839:—
Governor Gawler, the Government and officers, and many of the inhabitants, are at present busy forming another settlement at Port Lincoln, about 600 miles from Adelaide, a party of surveyors who examined it say it is a much better place than Adelaide, in consequence of the port, which is excellent. Vessels of 600 tons can go within 6 or 8 ft. of the shore without danger from wind or sea. It is intended to commence building directly. The town will be situated on a hill close by the waterside. For two miles there is a beautiful beach, where it is intended to commence building first. There is inferior land for some distance inland, but that is secondary, the good port, and good water in abundance, being the first thing to be considered. IT IS EXPECTED THAT IT WILL SUPERSEDE ADELAIDE IN A FEW YEARS, as the port is so good. The whale fishery is expected to be established there also.
In asking myself why that prophecy was never realised, for the belief was widely held in 1839 that the capital would be moved to the big harbor, I cannot help speculating as to whether the South Australian Company had anything to do with the retention of the seat of Government on the Mount Lofty plains. For the company had big interests in the newly created city of Adelaide — and it got badly “left” in the matter of Port Lincoln. I will tell you how this happened.
S.A. Company Forestalled
Boston Bay, that part of the har bor on which the town is situated was attracting much attention in the early part of 1839. Never being adverse to adding another hundred or so square miles of country to its holdings, provided the land was of the proper texture of richness, or the prospect of disposing of urban blocks at from 100 to 200 per cent, profit was sufficiently alluring, the company saw in Boston Bay a new means of turning an honest penny — or perhaps even a paltry hundred thousand pounds or so. It dispatched an agent post haste to give the Boston Bay location the "once over." The agent returned to the city full of enthusiasm, determined to buy up the whole of the Boston Bay country. But he couldn't. Certain members of the public, those whose names I have already given you, had got in before him.
Reading between the lines of a newspaper paragraph published in the "South Australian Gazette" of March 9, 1839, there was evidently an undercurrent of jubilation in the city over the company's discomfiture. "The public," we read, "joined together and obtained a special survey of what is considered to be the only available portion of Boston Bay. This was done with so much promptitude that when the company's agent returned from his inspection of the place he found, as in the case of Mount Barker, that he had been anticipated, and Boston Bay is now public property."
The S.A.C. however, did eventually take up a site on the northern side, including the eastern harbor.
Optimism Run Wild
Let me give you a few examples of the general optimism which filled the city regarding Port Lincoln nearly a hundred years ago. For one site of eight acres, for which £8 was paid ten days previously, £50 was given. The "South Australian Gazette," of March 9, 1839, refers to "large parties of colonists proceeding to inspect what, after all is certain to be the seat of the future commerce of South Australia." The "Register" in 1839 refers to “the young commercial city of Port Lincoln. 'The largest ship of the line might sail all round the bay, within a few fathoms of the shore, in 6 or 8 fathoms of water, without the slightest risk, and the whole British navy might be moored there in perfect security." — Letter dated December 25, 1839, from Captain Johnston of the "Recovery" to Captain Walker.
Yet this harbor, which the captain of the Endeavour described as "equal to that of Port Jackson," of which Neales Bentham wrote, "it is perhaps one of the finest in the world," and of which Governor Gawler himself declared, "it is little, if at all, inferior to Rio de Janeiro," is today much in the same condition of Nature as it was when Flinders gazed down on its waters from the summit of Stamford Hill. As I said to opening this article, Port Lincoln is one day destined to become the capital of a separate State. But that need not worry you nor I, for we shall be forgotten dust when the new star rises in the west.
Tod's Exploration
The other night I rolled round the Althorpes in a storm. We did the trip from Port Lincoln to Port Adelaide in fourteen hours. I was thankful my date was 1933 instead of 1839. For when, in March of the latter year, Robert Tod and his explorers left Port Adelaide for Boston Bay to explore the new country on behalf of the shareholders of No. 1 special survey, the tiny "Abeona" (100 tons) took six days to get there.
"We landed on a mountain in front of a beautiful vale, which we named Happy Valley," said Tod in his report to the Governor, "and hoisted the British flag under a salute from the vessel." There is a story about that salute. It was a disastrous affair.
Disastrous Salute
The explorers were so elated over the prospects of Port Lincoln that they decided the landing should be carried out in style. The flag was to be hoisted, and saluted by a volley on shore which, after the lapse of a certain interval, was to be answered from the ship. But the ship only possessed one antiquated cannon, and the mate, James Hunter, was not exactly a past master in the art of handling artillery even the artillery of the thirties, examples of which you may still see for yourself on the seawall at Glenelg. The land portion of the ceremony was carried out without a hitch. But when the ship answered the salute, there were two sharp reports instead of one, followed by a splash in the sea.
Sensing that an accident had occurred, the master (Captain Hawson) and Mr. T. N. Mitchell jumped into a boat and pulled out to the "Abeona." There they found Hunter lying on the deck in a pool of blood, crying piteously to be thrown over board that his sufferings might be ended. He had taken an iron bar to ram down the powder. This produced a spark which caused a premature explosion. His eyes had been blown out his cheeks torn, his hands shattered, and his whole body bruised.
He was in a frightful state. There was no doctor. Yet the case was desperate. There was nothing for it but bush surgery. Mitchell, who knew as much about the science as I know about the next world got a case of instruments from the captain's cabin, hacked off a damaged hand without any anaesthetic, bandaged the wound, while Captain Hawson drove the brig for all she was worth for Adelaide. At that time the Adelaide Hospital was a small hut with a thatched roof which occupied the site of the present Black Swan Hotel on North terrace. Thither Hunter was taken. And the extraordinary thing is that, despite his shocking hurts, he survived. He died many years later.
Sturt And Port Lincoln
A few years ago an historian, rummaging among the old records at the Colonial Office in London, unearthed a hitherto unpublished letter written in 1834 by the explorer Sturt to the then Under Secretary for the Colonies. That was three years before the establishment of South Australia. Dated February 17, 1834, this letter is particularly apropos to this article, for it deals with the possibility of making Port Lincoln the capital of the proposed province. Sturt says: —
There are two places more particularly brought under our notice, viz., Port Lincoln and Kangaroo Island, as being the spots on which the attempts to settle colonies would first be made. . . . Taking everything into consideration, it is pretty clear that Port Lincoln has more favorable than unfavorable features. In the first place its situation is admirable. As a port it is safe and commodious. If its immediate shores are barren, we have every reason to hope that a better description of country than ordinary lies at an available distance from them. It would appear that there is a sufficiency of grass, but the character of the timber is doubtful. It has an abundant supply of fish, but, on the whole, a deficiency of fresh water, and is surrounded by a numerous native population. Of this place we may be sanguine, but not confident. No doubt can be entertained as to its fitness for the site of a colony.
Images:
Port Lincoln Harbor, from an early drawing, about 1848, in possession of the Archives.
Mr. D. O. Whaite, Mayor of Port Lincoln.
Flinders Monument on Stamford Hill. — Henderson photo.