Time Tells All

Chapter 6

January 1841.

January 1841.Exasperated with the heat and the noise of her cranky children, Margaret held onto the railing on the ladder leading up from the sleeping and eating quarters on the boat and pulled herself up to the deck. She didn’t tell William. He could manage for five minutes.

Taking in deep breaths of the sea air, Margaret picked up the edge of her apron and wiped her face. Other passengers were hanging on to the railing and looking over the side of the boat. She didn’t know what they were marvelling at and didn’t care. Tightening her cap so the wind wouldn’t run off with it, Margaret found a place to sit where she could watch the sun set over what her husband told her was Bass Strait. Changing from yellow to orange to red, the sun disappeared on the horizon, leaving the space between daylight and darkness filled with shades of grey and blue. Margaret put her hands on the bench seat, pulled her body upright and made her way to the ladder and back into the bowels of the boat. The putrid smell of vomit wafted into her face, up her nose and down the back of her throat. Not understanding what made people seasick, she thanked God for sparing her the extra work. The rolling waves hadn’t affected her girls or her husband, and so far, she was free from the squirming stomach that plagued many of the passengers.

The bunks allocated to the family for the one night and one-day trip to Port Phillip were tucked away at the back of the sleeping quarters. On first seeing their beds, Margaret was pleased to have a little more privacy than the other passengers, but with the stifling heat, the rollicking seas and the vomit she stepped over when she moved around the cabin, she ached to find a place on deck. With three small children and a husband on tenterhooks she would have to stay put.

One of the crew ventured into the vomit ridden sleeping quarters of the boat and lit the oil lamps, hanging them on hooks dotted around the edges of the space. Margaret preferred the darkness. The light brought the visibility of children with bile dried around their mouths, mothers pale with fatigue and their own seasickness, and fathers draped on bunks bemoaning their lot.

William helped settle the children into their bunk, Sarah down one end, and Maggie and Caroline up the other. The bunk underneath was too narrow for two adults, especially one whose sleep was disturbed by pregnancy. Margaret told William to go to bed, saying she would join him after another breath of fresh air. She sat on the end of the bunk until she heard the gentle snoring of the three girls in the bed above, then climbed up the ladder to the deck of the boat. The cool air wrapped around her cheeks reminding her of the times Grandmama Sarah Blay would hold her face in her hands and kiss it. Margaret touched a cheek and briefly closed her eyes, feeling Sarah’s love.

Not alone in her desire to be out of the suffocating heat and smell of the sleeping quarters, Margaret had trouble finding somewhere to sit that would offer a little comfort. An older man, about the age she imagined James Blay Sr would be if he were still alive, offered her a seat on a wooden crate. It was lined up with others as makeshift seating, along the bow of the boat. Thanking the man, Margaret plonked on the crate, and loosened the ribbon holding her cap in place. Putting her head back and taking deep breaths to get more fresh air into her lungs, Margaret gasped at the majesty of the night sky. ‘It’s beautiful, amazing.’ She wondered if this night sky, black as the charred wood that lay in the hearth when the fire was out and sparkling with stars, was a good omen for their new life in Port Phillip.

William opened his eyes and turned to face the hand that was tapping his arm. He sat straight up ‘What is it, Sarah? Where’s Mama?’ The six-year-old shrugged and wiped her hand under her nose, telling her father she felt sick and couldn’t find Margaret. Pulling back the covers, William swung his feet out of the bunk and onto the floor. Careful not to hit his head on standing, he checked Maggie and Caroline. Both were sound asleep. ‘Come here and sit with me on the bed,’ he said to the little girl. ‘Mama will be here soon.’

Sarah put her head on her father’s lap and her legs on the bunk. He watched as she fought to keep her eyes open. Laying his eldest on the bed, her head on his pillow, William waited a few more minutes to make sure she was asleep. Pulling his boots and breeches on, he climbed up the ladder two steps at a time, to look for his wife.

Finding Margaret at the bow of the boat sitting on a wooden crate, her head bent back, her mouth open with drool dripping from its side, William panicked. He put his hands on her shoulders, shook them and called out her name.

Margaret’s head bounced forward, her eyes sprung open and her mouth clamped shut. ‘What? What?’

‘You gave me a fright, Margaret, I thought you were sick like Papa when he had the apoplexy,’ William whispered.

‘Don’t be stupid. I fell asleep.’

‘Sarah woke saying she felt sick, I’ve put her in our bunk. You go down to her, and I’ll stay here for a time. There isn’t room in the bunk for two adults.’

William helped his wife up from the crate and escorted her to the opening in the boat’s floor that took them down into the floating oven.

Pushing Sarah over to the edge of the bed, so she was against the wall, Margaret took off her own shoes, cap and apron, and lay on top of the covers praying sleep would creep up and swallow her.

The gruel served for breakfast went uneaten by the passengers still struggling with seasickness. Margaret’s children ate their own and some belonging to others who left plates untouched. William struggled to force the gruel into his mouth, but knowing dinner was some time away, made himself eat it. The smell and heat still affected Margaret. She didn’t eat.

‘I have to go up on deck, William. I can’t stay down here, I can’t breathe. It’s too hot.’ Margaret complained.

William searched the quarters, looking under bunks, under chairs, on benches. ‘What are you looking for?’ Margaret asked.

‘I need something to tie the girls together. Something strong enough to keep them safe, so they won’t fall overboard. We can’t expect them to stay down here until the boat arrives in Port Phillip. I’ll ask a crew member.’ William disappeared up the ladder.

‘I’ve got something suitable,’ William said as he bounded down the ladder. A sailor had given him two long, leather strips. William hadn’t asked what they used them for. He tied one end of the strip to the ribbon that ran around the middle of Sarah’s dress, and looped the other end through Maggie’s dress. The middle of the strip was loose, so William could keep hold – a little girl at each end. He wrapped the other strip around Caroline’s waist, tied it, and handed the end to Margaret. ‘There,’ he said, ‘We can go onto the deck and all be safe.’ His grin made the children giggle. Despite her fatigue, Margaret smiled.

Although there was little room for the children to play, Margaret thought they were happier for being in the fresh air. The sea breeze that kissed their faces when they moved onto the deck in the morning, had turned into a nasty squall by dinner time.

Sailors moved along, telling the passengers to get below. ‘Bass Strait whips up nasty winds and currents,’ one sailor remarked. ‘Go below until we give the all clear.’

There was no all clear. Confined below deck for the rest of the journey they listened to each other vomit, dry-retch, moan and groan until the boat sailed out of the Strait into the bay that led to Melbourne.

Port Phillip

Port Phillip“George Gipps became Governor of New South Wales in 1838. In October 1839, he appointed Charles La Trobe as Superintendent of the district. [Port Phillip] He was a gifted man with artistic and scientific interests who did much to lay the foundations of Melbourne as a real city. La Trobe’s most lasting contribution to the city was to reserve large areas as public parks: today these are the Treasury Gardens, the Carlton Gardens, the Flagstaff Gardens, Royal Park and the Royal Botanic Gardens.

“George Gipps became Governor of New South Wales in 1838. In October 1839, he appointed Charles La Trobe as Superintendent of the district. [Port Phillip] He was a gifted man with artistic and scientific interests who did much to lay the foundations of Melbourne as a real city. La Trobe’s most lasting contribution to the city was to reserve large areas as public parks: today these are the Treasury Gardens, the Carlton Gardens, the Flagstaff Gardens, Royal Park and the Royal Botanic Gardens.A Separation Association had been formed in 1840 wanting Port Phillip District to become a separate colony, and the first petition for the separation was drafted by Henry Fyshe Gisborne and presented by him to Governor Gipps. The entire population of Port Philip in 1841 was 11,738.”1

A Separation Association had been formed in 1840 wanting Port Phillip District to become a separate colony, and the first petition for the separation was drafted by Henry Fyshe Gisborne and presented by him to Governor Gipps. The entire population of Port Philip in 1841 was 11,738.”