The Missionaries 5

The Voyage to Australia (1)

May 12, 1851. Monday morning, quarter past nine — amid

the clatter of ropes, shouting of sailors, removal of breakfast tins, and
adjusting of boxes — our ship, loosed from her moorings, slowly
moved out of the Southampton Docks. Some were weeping,
waving hats and handkerchiefs, but the major part were full of
bustle. Though much excited at the thought of leaving my native
country, and casting a prospective glance at a three or four months
voyage, yet the scene was enchanting, the sea calm, and the
morning fine. Three or four of the passengers, contrary to orders,
had strolled into the town, and were left behind ; who at some risk,
in an old leaky boat, and at considerable expense, were brought
after us. Mr. Hall, one of the owners, accompanied us as far as the
Needles ; also the Rev. Mr. Faithful, father of our chief mate, and
another gentleman. After shaking hands, these gentlemen got into
the pilot boat and returned. I stood much affected at this last
farewell scene ; and the little boat soon disappeared. I felt happy
though sorrowful, and said within myself, "God bless Old
England." We soon passed St. Alban's Head, and saw only, here
and there, a vessel on the wide expanse.

Tuesday 13. Second day at sea. We had a good night ; I rose
at six, and shaved with great ease. I had dreaded shaving at sea.
A fine morning and favourable breeze. Many are
sick, but most are able to go on deck. We have forty-two children
under ten years of age ; their crying, laughing, and tumbling, with
the grunting of hogs, barking of dogs, bleating of sheep, and the
cackling of poultry, give an air of rural life to the scene. Mrs. Townend
and niece are squeamish, but I am regularly sea sick.

Thursday 15. Fourth day. On the poop at six ; rather cloudy;
many are quite sick ; and the messes broken up. We are, for
convenience, divided into messes, eight or more in company. In this
respect we are very comfortable. There are our three selves, two
young ladies from Scotland, the Rev. J. Tester, and granddaughter.
I am happy in God, but pensive, and bowed down with sea
sickness. Oh how I should enjoy a cup of tea with a friend in England.
Sea sickness, sea biscuit, and a rocking table, are sorry things.
Such utter prostration and loathing ! Yet we have many things
on account of which to be thankful.

Friday 16. Fifth day at sea. Rose early; a fine morning;
passed a steamer to starboard, and a sailing ship to starboard, both bound
for England. A decided improvement in the health of the
passengers. Some are indulging in levity, wine, cards, songs, and
dancing.

Saturday 17. Sixth day. Rather cloudy, wind unfavourable.
Some were frightened in the night by the changing of the position
of the sails. A fine day, but little progress. We are much amused
by the appearance and playfulness of porpoises gambolling round
our ship.

Sabbath 18. Seventh day. Our first Sabbath at sea. A steady
breeze : most seem to know that it is Sunday ; better clothes, less
levity. At eleven a.m. the union-jack was spread, and the bell
tolled the hour for prayer. At the tolling of the bell, and muster
for worship, I wept. We have a clergyman of the Established
Church on board, with his wife and nine children ; and he, in his
clerical robes, conducted worship. The singing of the morning
hymn, and the entire service, I very much enjoyed. It was
announced that I should preach at three p.m. There was a good
attendance ; the high church party, as if from fear of taint,

keeping at a respectful distance. I spoke with freedom from " But
this I say, brethren, the time is short." O blessed Sabbath! O
delightful worship ! We should have had prayers in the evening,
but our cook filled his boiler with salt water instead of fresh,
which was not discovered until we were all seated for tea. What
pulling of faces, and what a stir with the captain and our
ill-tempered cook. That evening I saw a whale.

Tuesday 20. Ninth day at sea. Last night a very strong
breeze from the north-west : such rolling and heaving ; many of
us were not a little disturbed. It seemed as if we were about to be
tumbled out of our hard and narrow beds, and the vessel thrown
on one side. About one in the morning, one of the sails was split
with the violence of the wind, and the vessel rolled from side to
side, upsetting our plates, pannikins, barrels: such rolling,
jumbling, tumbling, rattling, so as to keep awake most of the
passengers ; some laughing, others crying and screaming, and a
few raising their hearts to God for his protection. Afternoon.
The breeze continues ; the day very fine. The last twenty-four
hours we have made 212 knots. Glory be to God !

Wednesday 21. Tenth day. Last night we passed the
' Marian Watson," bound for England. She would report, " The
Asia off the coast of Spain: all is well." A good night.
Mrs. Townend rather sick ; a nice breeze ; very pleasant sailing. Boxes
brought upon deck, that what is wanted may be got out. We are
like a company of gipsies. At four p.m. we passed by Trumpet a
small craft from Alexandria, bound to Londonderry. She would
report "The Asia (our ship.)  All is well." Weather warm and beautiful.

Thursday 22, Eleventh day at sea. We have had a good
night ; some have been free with the fire-water ; on account of
which the captain has locked up the wine and spirit stores. A
petition is being handed round, to the effect that the petitioners
hate drunkenness as much as the captain, but wish the stores to
be opened. I and my friend Mr. Brown refused to sign. A young
clerical student is very active, and other influential passengers,
who pant for the burning liquor. I find teetotalism to be very
useful at sea. We are almost becalmed.

Saturday 24. Thirteenth day. A most beautiful day; not
much wind, but plenty of grog. In the night, two of Neptune's
sons refused to obey the second mate, and had to be bound and
confined. We have made Madeira, but it was not visible. Much
disturbance through the rites of Bacchus. I here enter my solemn
protest against the sale and use of alcoholic liquors, as social
beverages, on board a ship. Here are sailors and passengers staggering,
swearing, and smoking : some of them creeping into their berths,
with lighted pipes, while in a state of intoxication, surrounded
with combustible matter. Under such circumstances, what
security can there be for life or property ? We have a doctor who
can administer medicine when called for ; but the secret is, men
like strong drink, and the sale is lucrative. Our third mate has
been confined since the third day of sailing. " The way of
transgressors is hard.''

Sabbath, May 25. Fourteen days at sea, A most delightful
day. What a stir last night upon the poop!  Gleeful singing and
dancing. It is eleven o'clock, Sabbath morning; the bell tolls
solemnly. Our six midshipmen having adjusted the scats, and
spread the British flag, stand three on each side of the braces,
neat and clean. Our card-playing, dancing, and swearing student,
clerks for us out of the book ; and our clergyman, whom no one
charges with being righteous over much, reads the prayers, and
maintains his dignity at the hour of prayer. This solemn mockery
is sickening to a pious mind, and is a burlesque to our crew. In
the afternoon I spoke from Lamentations iii. 24 ; a good time, and
numerous attendance. The Rev. J. Tester read the Scriptures, and
offered prayer. At evening prayers, our clergyman read part of a
sermon from "What must I do to be saved?" but it got dark
and he had to stop until a light could be brought. Upon the
whole, this Sabbath passed pleasantly and profitably over.

Monday 26. Fifteenth day. Beautiful morning ; steady breeze ;
five knots per hour. Expecting soon to meet with the trade winds.
What a magnificent view of the stars we beheld last night! I stood for
some time alone on the forecastle, musing on the scene. Only a
little past eight, and quite dark. It seems strange for the weather
to get hotter as the days get shorter. I am happy in God my
salvation.

Tuesday 27. Sixteenth day at sea. This morning I spoke to our
young clergyman about his polka dancing with other of our fine
folks last night in the dark upon the poop : I told him he had better
give up his frolics, or else cease to take a leading part in our Sabbath
devotions. He excused himself by saying he was not in holy orders
and that an ordained clergyman ought not to act as he did. I told
him, he and others were making our Sabbath prayers contemptible.
We sail most delightfully. The weather is very warm, and the sun
is nearly vertical. At twelve at noon, my shadow is about a foot
long.

Wednesday 28. Weather fine and warm. Our gallant ship, in
full sail, glides imperceptibly upon the glassy ocean. We are now
off the Canary Islands, but have no land in sight. Through mercy
we are all well.

Thursday 29. We are sailing on, and getting into the trade
winds, and near the tropics ; not a sight of land since we left St.
Alban's Head, and not likely to see any until we get near Adelaide.
Heaven speed us well !

Friday 30. Nineteenth day at sea. A strong breeze carrying
us on seven knots per hour. Just entering the tropic of Cancer.
Many are drunk ; how unthankful, wicked, and debasing ! It is very
wrong to sell strong liquor on board, or, indeed, anywhere else,
merely as a beverage. How thankful I feel for true religion and
teetotalism. Our water is very bad and scarce. Filters, oranges,
lemons, figs, cheese, jams, and oaten bread, are very useful.

May 31. Twentieth day at sea. A good night, and fine
morning: splendid sailing — eight knots per hour. "We passed a
ship to starboard — the " Columbus," bound to South America, out
from London twenty-five days. We generally speak by signals.
Many are squeamish, and some very sick ; my dear wife is poorly :
I am sick, but just able to write a line. Happy in Jesus.

Monday 2. A very good breeze — eight knots per hour ; we
made Cape de Verde at five this morning, but it was not discernible.
A fine ship is passing. Flying-fish and porpoises in abundance.
Our water is bad. Some have filters ; others drink it mixed with
vinegar and sugar. All well, and in good spirits. Three weeks at
sea.

Tuesday 3. Twenty-third day at sea. Very hot ; last night
tossing and broiling — not much sleep ; we are weak and sickly.
A sea- voyage like this requires fortitude. Some on board would
be glad to be back in England. A brisk and favourable wind.
Hoping in a week to make the line. Thermometer 78°. We are
in good company at our end of the ship.

Wednesday 4. Twenty-fourth day at sea. Another tropical
night is past. A fine breeze. I have just had a misfortune:
having taken a tin of ox-tail soup to the cook's galley, by the
lurching of the ship, the tin was upset, and the contents lost.
Our cook is a saucy fellow, and insisted on my cleaning it up ;
but the first mate taught him better. Mrs. Townend has just
had a heavy fall, but, through mercy, is none the worse. We
have passed a French brig, probably laden with sugar from the
West Indies. We have many Irish passengers, who behave better
than the English. A strong north-east wind bears us on gloriously.
My head is too hot to read much.

Friday 6. Twenty-sixth day. How beautiful the moon and
stars were last night! Not much wind and very hot — nearly
becalmed. 7 degrees North latitude. "for a prosperous breeze,
To waft us o'er these burning seas."

Saturday 7. Twenty-seventh day at sea. How rapidly,
towards evening, the sun, as if tired of his own heat, hastens to dip in
the ocean ! And how little twilight compared with what there is
at home! Tropical heat is very trying to some constitutions.
This morning, at six, a splendid rainbow and teeming shower.

Tuesday 10. Thirtieth day. Four weeks at sea. No wind,
the sea like a lake. As some of our male passengers were sleeping
on the poop last night, a rude young fellow diverted himself by
pouring water in their faces. He has just been tried on the
forecastle for his offence, and condemned to sit until some dozen
buckets of salt water were dashed in his face. He came off the
forecastle, like a drowned rat, professing to have enjoyed the
sport.

Wednesday 11. Thirty-first day. Cloudy and rain. Shouts
of "Squall! squall!" Two conflicting winds in the north-east;
the sea is black and high — " There ! there it comes ! '' And just
as the reefs were finished, we were in the storm. Our gallant
ship was driven out of her course for a short time. Such rain I
never saw before : immediately the atmosphere was cooled. It is
a humorous sight to see clothed gentlemen in strong winds
dabbling in the rain like ducks.
Now we have a gentle breeze in
the right direction. We are yet six degrees from the line.

Thursday, June 12. Thirty-second day. We were awoke this
morning and ordered to close our port-holes ; a heavy squall was
upon us : for two hours we had heavy rain but not much wind : a
heavy swell a-head, caused our vessel to pitch : headaches and
sickness prevailed. We hope to fall in with the trade -winds to take
us across the line. What with cooking, washing of utensils,
nursing, and cleaning of children, we are a noisy community. I often
commune with myself on privileges and friendships gone by
God, bring us safely to the land we seek ; that we may love, and
be beloved ; do good, and get good : Lord, bless our churches !

Friday 13. Thirty-third day. Still three or four degrees north
the equator. Thermometer 83, but the air much cooled by the
heavy rain. The squalls from the south-west, just give time to
reef top-sails. Our old ship pitches so as to turn many sick, as
bad as at first. Pots, tins, water-barrels, continually tumbling
and jumbling : I am very sick, throwing off my stomach all I take.
My dear wife is unwell, but very cheerful : I am surprised and
comforted by her fortitude. Amelia, Messrs. Brown and Taylor
are well.

Saturday 14. Thirty-fourth day. A beautiful day, fresh
breeze, not so hot. We have now passed the variable winds, and
region of squalls. Still three degrees north the equator. I have
sat several hours on the poop to-day, pensively nibbling some of
the nice things our good friends in England gave us. Shall we
ever meet again on earth !

Monday 16. We slept well last night, a good wind and
pleasant day ; flying-fish, and here and there a nautilus, or ' Spanish
man-of-war," — so called — a curious little fish, riding upon the
wave with its sails spread to catch the breeze. At ten this morning
we made the equator without having any nonsense amongst the
sailors, about old Neptune and his sons. We had got fourteen
knots into the tropic of Cancer before we knew that we had
crossed the line. Summer being now north the equator, we have
now comfortable weather. There is gladness amongst us, now that
we have made the line so soon, and that without any serious
accident or death. My head is bad, sickness scarcely kept off : I
am weary of sitting, stand long I cannot, and walking turns me
giddy : cannot read much ; pensive, but not fretful ; I look
backward toward England — forward toward Australia — and
upward toward heaven — then, wiping the scalding tears from my
face, say, "Thy will, my God, Thy will be done."

Wednesday 18. Thirty-eighth day. Another beautiful day, with
moderate breeze. I am languid, but not sick. Our ship's company
are seated in groups, reading, writing, knitting, sewing ; small
schools superintended by parents, governesses, and others. There
is far less finery than at first; and real worth begins to be
appreciated. The evenings are long, quite dark at seven. The
stars and planets seem nearer than they do in England. We have
left the North-star below the horizon, and the " Great Bear " will
soon disappear in like manner. The chambers of the south are
being unlocked, and constellations more numerous and more
brilliant invite our gaze. When tired of star-gazing, we lean over
the bows and sides of our floating house, and behold the beautiful
phosphorus light, in its wonderful variegated hues, fantastically
playing on the ocean.