James Blay walked to the river’s edge to get the boat ready for the trip to Hobart Town. The sun crept up behind Pulpit Rock smothering it in orange, yellow and ochre hues. As it spread across the sky, it brought with it the stifling heat of a new February day. It was taking Blay some time to get used to the heat, even though Mr Cullen told him Van Diemen’s Land was cool compared to Sydney Town and Norfolk Island. He thought about his family in London in the depths of winter. ‘I hope Sarah has enough money for coal for the fires and the boys are staying well. The children here are so healthy looking compared with London.’
‘Blay,’ called Mr Cullen from the verandah of the house ‘come and help me with the stock. We’ll have to load and be off quickly. It will be a hot one.’
Blay secured the
