20 April 1933

INCIDENTS OF OTHER YEARS

Captain Flinders— Surveyor

This series of Real Life Stories has demonstrated that real life happenings in our own State are often as interesting as the most fantastic tale of fiction. The story of Captain Flinders's task of surveying the west coast of Eyre Peninsula introduces anew half-forgotten episodes of our own history.

Story Of Memory Cove.

— Flinders made a thorough job of charting the Australian Bight and the western coast of Eyre Peninsula. I believe that parts of this coastline have never been re-surveyed and boats go with perfect safety by Flinders' direction to this day.

When they reached what is now known as Sleaford Bay, Flinders sent eight of his men to the mainland in a cutter to find a place, where fresh water could be procured. Those who remained on the Investigator saw the cutter returning just at dark, but they lost sight of it again. When it failed to reach the ship in reasonable time anxiety was felt for the men's safety.

A light was shown, and Lieutenant Fowler set out in a boat with lanterns to see if he could find the missing men. Several hours of searching proved useless, and he returned to the ship.

A very strong current was running just where the cutter had last been seen, and Fowler narrowly escaped being capsized. Muskets were fired, and everything possible done to make the whereabouts of the Investigator known to the missing men. It was too dark to see anything, or else it is possible that some of the seamen would have been saved. This happened on February 21, 1802.

For several days a search was kept up and at last their little boat was found showing traces of having been dashed against rocks. Later one of the oars was discovered washed up on the southern point of the mainland. Flinders named this point of land Cape Catastrophe, and gave to islands nearby the names of the missing men.

A further search for the bodies proved fruitless, and the number of sharks seen in the cove rendered the prospect of finding them doubtful. The need of fresh water compelled Flinders at last to go away from the scene of the tragedy. Before he departed he had an inscription engraved on a piece of copper, and fixed on a post on the shore. The little bay he named Memory Cove.

Many years later a portion of the copper tablet was found on the sea-front at Port Lincoln by Mr. William Murray. The Public Library became possessed of the fragments in 1884, but little importance was attached to them until 30 years later, when a third piece was handed to the institution. Attempts were then made to find out the correct wording, but so much was missing that the task was difficult.

It was not until 1923 that the correct inscription was provided by the British Admiralty, who have Flinders' log in their possession. Portions of the copper tablet are in the Adelaide Museum. It was supposed, in Flinders' day, that a great gulf divided the continent of Australia. A few days of sailing after rounding Cape Catastrophe dispelled that idea — 'R.V.H.' Yeelanna.

[See also Deciphering of Inscription of Memory Cove Plate]

Hectic Afternoon.

— I was listening a few days ago to an 'old-timer' telling of the early days of the Murray settlements. He said that few, if any, hotels were erected at the time. Nevertheless, individuals with a thirst were able to procure the necessary liquid to quench it at varies 'shanties' along the route.

Those not 'in the know' were invariably served with the in offensive hop beer, which used to be prominently exhibited to the public view. One man had a large timber and bag structure, back from the river, in which he did a roaring trade with all kinds of liquor. This used to be a favorite gathering place on weekends for the men and youths of the district.

One hot day about 30 had gathered at the bag 'shanty,' but the usual supply of liquor had not reached there. The boat was bringing it up that day. The 'proprietory' set out with a cart and horse to bring home the goods.

By the time he had his load on board he was feeling the need of a 'refresher.' Weather being very hot, he had several, and on the way had several more. Eventually he be came muddled, and lost control of the horse.

He had to pass around the bank of a dam, and the horse decided that he needed a drink, too. So the animal walked into the middle of the dam. There were several feet of mud in the bottom of it, and the horse got into difficulties. Hampered by the weight of the loaded cart it was unable to get out, and was drowned.

The fright partially sobered the man, but he was too scared to attempt to leave the cart and make for the bank. He remained perched upon the barrels in the back of the cart—a picture of misery.

In the meantime two officers of the law had paid a visit to the man's dwelling, and, finding him absent, had gone down the road towards the river. On their way they discovered him marooned in the dam. They got him out, and turned their attention to the cart and its load.

The man, however, waited for nothing else, but set off at top speed towards his 'shop,' to get there first, as he thought. The customers, leaving their hats and coats hanging inside the building, had gone away to a cooler spot under some distant trees.

The proprietor dashed up to the place, and having in his mind only the idea of destroying evidence before the police got there, he threw kerosene on to the bag walls of the building, and set alight to it. It was enveloped in a mass of flames and smoke in a minute, and the lurid remarks of the infuriated men who were unable to rescue their belongings added to the heat of the scene.— 'R.V.H.,' Yeelanna.

Some Outback Episodes.

— A publican's wife, well known in the north for her kindness, and especially to the natives, tells the following humorous story about an Aboriginal. After 'Jacky' had completed a few little tasks for Mrs. So and So, he was called into midday luncheon — tin corned beef, mashed potatoes, bread and butter, and tea. 'Jacky' indignantly complained that it was not good enough, 'Well, Jacky, said the surprised woman, 'when Mr. So and So. and I were way up the river, many a day we would have been only too thankful to sit down to a luncheon like that.' 'Huh!' answered Jacky, 'all I can say is when Mr. So and So and you were way up on the river, you must have been d——ned hard up.'

Once when this woman and her husband were living on a northern station, Mr. So and So was obliged to go into the town for provisions. Taking a couple of black boys and the team, he left his wife with a young gin as help in the homestead, and began his journey, knowing it would be a few days before his return. Things went well at the station for a couple of days. But one afternoon, noticing a general excitement and unrest amongst the black boys, Mrs. So and So sent 'Topsy,' the young gin, to make enquiries.

Returning, Topsy also seemed greatly agitated. She told her mistress that smoke signals had been received by the station boys from one of the tribes to say a band of hostile natives were approaching from some distance. The boys took shelter in the scrub, leaving only Mrs. So and So and Topsy to face whatever came.

The brave woman and the now terrified little gin saddled two of the station hacks and began a long lonely ride to try to catch the provision waggon. About midnight the horses and riders were very tired, and arriving at a waterhole decided to rest. The horses were tethered in a clump of trees and the lady and Topsy, being too nervous to sleep, paced about till daylight.

Continuing the journey, they were overjoyed a few hours later to meet Mr. So and So returning with the waggon. On arriving at the homestead they found the black boys had returned. A mistake had been made in the 'telegram,' and the natives, it was found, were a friendly tribe coming to visit their own relatives. The terror of the blacks was turned to joy, a big corroboree was held when the tribes met, and Mr. and Mrs. So and So were only too pleased to give the native station hands leave to attend the festival.— 'M.J.B.,' Macclesfield.

Horse's Long Swim.

— Before the Cowell jetty was built, a novel method was used to tranship stock from the steamer. The beast was put in a sling and swung over the side of the boat into the water, where sailors would be waiting in a rowing boat. A halter was placed on the animal's head, the tackling freed from the sling, and a start made for shore in the rowing boat with the beast swimming behind the boat, and a sailor keeping its head above water with the halter.

One time when a cargo of horses was being transhipped in this manner, one of the horses being landed for Mr. Ried managed to free himself of the sling before it was secured by the halter. The horse immediately swam out to sea.

The sailors gave chase in a rowing boat for a distance of about half a mile, but as it was night and no moon their quarry was soon lost. It was the general belief that the horse had tired and gone under to drown.

However, next day word was sent to Mr. Ried that a horse had been seen on an island a couple of miles out from Cowell. The owner secured the assistance of a neighbor, and they set out for the uninhabited island where they found the lost steed contentedly grazing. Once more he was secured and tethered behind the boat. This time he swam to shore and his new home without mishap.— 'M.J.B.,' Macclesfield.

Dangerous Fishing Rock.

— In a recent issue of 'The Chronicle' there was an account of a disaster to the fishing cutter Ferret, in which three members of the Rumbelow family were involved. It is almost a miracle that even one man got ashore alive.

I lived in the next bay to the Waitpinga for four years. Many a time myself and brother have watched the cutter Jem (Captain Jenkins) trading between Port Adelaide and Port Elliot, pass and disappear in the trough of the sea. When the Jem went out of sight, sails and all, we thought she must have foundered, and never expected to see her rise above the waters again. But the Jem made 109 trips without a mishap.

The roll of the breakers in the bay even in fine weather was something terrific, and sounded like cannon. When stormy weather prevailed the sea was inspiring. It broke a long way out. Along the coast, east of Waitpinga River, is a noted rock, known as Porpoise Head. It is said to be the only safe fishing rock between Waitpinga River and Rosetta Head. But two brothers and I once went for a day's fishing. We noticed the rocks looked wet, and watched. As no water came over we went to the lower ledge. Presently a huge wave came over us like a mountain. I laid flat on the rock and placed my fingers into any crevice I could find. My sailor brother caught me by the shoulder. When the waters had passed we scrambled to higher rocks, thankful that we had escaped with only a ducking.

A few years later some young men from the Inman Valley went to the same rock to fish. One a little ahead of the others (if I remember aright his name was Brundle) went down on the rock, and when his companions reached it they could see nothing of him. He had been washed off. His parents offered a reward for the body, which two fishermen of Encounter Bay found four days later, with his arms gone, supposed to have been eaten by sharks. — Nathan Stone, Caltowie.

Real Life Stories Of South Australia (1933, April 20). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 17. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article90898130