On the islands of Bass Strait where ‘the British flag is flown with pride’ – King Island, Maria Island and the Furneaux and Hunter groups – profitable fisheries have been established. François Péron notes in his report, ‘Seals of various species, to be found upon these islands, open up a new source of wealth and power to the English nation. Never, as the English themselves acknowledge, was a fishery so lucrative and so easy. The number of vessels engaged in it is increasing rapidly. Four years ago there were but four or five; last year there were 17.’1
‘The seals in question, which the English call elephant seals, are sometimes 25 or 30 feet long. They grow to the size of a large cask, and the enormous mass of the animal seems to be composed of solid, or rather coagulated, oil. The quantity extracted from one seal is prodigious. I have collected many particulars on this subject.
‘An even more lucrative and important trade is that of seal skins from the Bass Strait Islands, the Furneaux Islands, all the islands off the east coast of Van Diemen’s Land, islands on the south-west coast of New Holland, and which will probably be found on the archipelagos off the east coast of this continent. Seal skins [used for clothing and felt] are much desired in China, and the sale of a shipload of skins in that country is quick and lucrative.’2
While Péron is keen for France to get involved in sealing, Baudin sees no future in the trade. In a letter to Governor King, he warns, ‘There is every appearance that in a short time your fishermen will have drained the island of its resources by the fishery of the sea wolf [fur seal] and the sea elephant. Both will soon abandon their resorts to you if time be not allowed them to recruit their numbers, which have been much diminished by the destructive war carried on against them. They are becoming scarce already, and if you don’t issue an order you will soon hear that they have entirely disappeared.’3
Sadly, Baudin is right. Sealing is indeed a lucrative industry, as Péron reports, but the trade will be short-lived. In 1802, when the Baudin expedition visits the sealing grounds, the industry that began in Bass Strait, shipping skins and oil to China, has spread to Tasmania and Western Australia, and sealers based in Sydney and Hobart are searching even farther afield. But by 1806, due to indiscriminate killing, the Bass Strait sealing industry will have collapsed, and by the 1820s the reckless seal hunters – many of whom are escaped convicts and army deserters – will have driven the source of their livelihood almost to extinction.
‘Masters of the east coast of New Holland, we see [the British] rapidly penetrating the interior of the country, clearing increasing on all sides, towns multiplying,’ observes Péron. ‘Everywhere there is hope of an abundance of agricultural wealth. The south coast is under threat of further encroachments, which perhaps are by now affected. All the ports of the south-west will be occupied successively, and much sooner than is commonly thought. Van Diemen’s Land and all the neighbouring islands are either to be occupied or are already so. New Zealand offers them, together with excelling harbours, an extraordinarily abundant and lucrative fishery. In short, everything in these vast regions presents a picture of unequalled activity, unlimited foresight, swollen ambition and a policy as deep as it is vigilant.
‘Well then, come forward now to the middle of these vast seas, so long unknown. We shall see everywhere the same picture reproduced, with the same effects. Cast a glance over that great southern ocean. Traverse all those archipelagos which, like so many stepping stones, are scattered between New Holland and the west coast of America. It is by means of these that England hopes to be able to stretch her dominion as far as Peru.
‘Norfolk Island has been occupied for a long time. The cedar it produces, along with very fertile soil, makes it an important possession. It contains between 1500 and 1800 colonists. No settlement has yet been founded on any of the other islands, but all are being investigated for suitability.
‘The English land on all the islands and establish an active commerce, by means of barter, with the natives. The Sandwich Islands [Hawaii], Friendly Islands [Tonga], Loyalty Islands [now part of New Caledonia], Navigator Islands [Samoa], Marquesas and Mendore islands [Polynesia] all furnish excellent salt provisions. Ships employed in the trade frequently arrive at Port Jackson, and it increases every day – proof positive of the advantage derived from it.’4
Péron is convinced that Britain’s ambitions extend to the conquest of South America. There are plans afoot, he says, to establish a garrison on an archipelago off the coast of Peru, as a base from which to launch attacks on Spanish possessions. With the waning Spanish Empire struggling to repulse Chilean rebels demanding independence, the timing could not be better.
The British, he says, ‘are quite aware of the feebleness of the Spaniards in South America. They are above all aware that the unconquered Chileans are constantly making unexpected attacks. They are equally aware that it is simply a deficiency in arms and ammunition that prevents the redoubtable Chileans from pushing much farther their attacks on the Spaniards.’5
According to Péron, the British are presently supplying the Chileans with guns – running guns to the rebels at a considerable profit.
‘Another way they torment the Spaniards of Peru is by despatching a swarm of pirates to these seas. During the last war, very rich prizes were captured by simple whaling vessels, so you can judge what attacks of this kind would be like when they are directed and sustained by the English government itself. Their hopes in regard to the Spanish possessions are heightened, and their plans are encouraged by the general direction of the winds in these seas.’6
The British, says Péron, have conspired with the very wind. ‘Experience has taught the English that the prevailing wind – that which blows strongest and most constantly – is the west wind. The English, nowadays, instead of returning to Europe from Port Jackson by crossing Bass Strait and rounding the Cape of Good Hope, turn their prows eastward, abandon themselves to their favourite wind, quickly cross the great expanse of the south seas, round Cape Horn, and so do not reach England until they have circumnavigated the globe. Consequently, these voyages around the world, which were formerly considered so hazardous, and are associated with so many famous names, have become quite familiar to English sailors. Even their fishing vessels accomplish the circumnavigation of the globe just as safely as they would make a voyage from Europe to the Antilles [archipelago in the Caribbean Sea].’7
Péron suggests that to British sailors used to braving the treacherous seas when rounding the Horn, all other voyages now seem rather mundane. That, and the constancy of the west wind, is bad news for Spain because a British invasion of Spanish possessions in South America is inevitable. It is little wonder then, that the British are investing so heavily in the colony at Port Jackson – an ideal base from which to launch such an invasion.
‘Hardly a month passes without the arrival [at Port Jackson] of some ship sent by the British government, laden with provisions, and above all with men and women – some transported convicts, who have to serve practically as slaves, and free immigrants – farmers to whom concessions will be granted.
‘Perhaps at first you will be astonished to learn that honest men voluntarily transport themselves and their families to the far side of the world to live in a country that is still savage, and which was originally, and is still occupied by criminals cast out by society. But your astonishment will cease when you learn of the conditions such people accept to exile themselves to these shores, and the advantages they quickly derive from this risky undertaking.
‘In the first place, before their departure from Europe, a sufficient sum is allocated to each person to provide for the necessities on such a long voyage. On board the vessel that transports them to Sydney, a price is fixed for the sustenance of the immigrant and his family, if he has one. On landing at Port Jackson, concessions are granted to him according to the size of his family. A number of convicts are assigned to him. A house is built for him, along with all necessary furniture, household utensils and clothes. He is granted all the seed he needs to sow his land, all the tools he needs to till it, domestic animals and poultry. Besides that, the government feeds him, his family and assigned servants for 18 months. He is completely sustained during that period, and granted half-rations for the next 12 months. At the end of that time he is assumed to be able to sustain himself and left to his own resources.
‘If, after five years living off his own resources, the immigrant satisfies the government that his farm is productive and well-managed, he is granted ownership of his land and allocated further concessions, including more convict labour.’8
The measure of the success of this system, Péron says, is ‘the fine farms that daily increase in number in the midst of what was recently wild and uncultivated forest. Already, several of the earliest immigrants have become very wealthy.
‘What still further proves the special interest the English government has in this colony is the enormous expense incurred in procuring commodities for the new colonists. Nearly everything is furnished by the government.’9
Péron has found that goods subsidised by the government are so plentiful in Sydney that private traders bringing in commodities are forced to sell their goods at a loss.
‘Vast depots are filled with clothes and fabrics of all kinds and qualities, from the commonest to the finest. The simplest furniture and household goods are to be found among the most elegant. Thus, the colonists are able to buy, at prices lower than those in England, everything necessary not only for the basics needs of life but also for its comforts and pleasures.’10
Péron is impressed with the success of the colony’s nascent cattle industry, noting that the various imported breeds all seem to be thriving, and he is especially optimistic for the future of sheep farming: ‘Never was there a country so favourable to these animals as the part of New Holland now occupied by the English. Whether it is the effect of the climate or, as I believe, the peculiar quality of the grass – almost wholly aromatic – it is certain that the flocks of sheep have multiplied enormously.
‘It is true that the finest breeds have been imported by the government. The best kinds of English and Irish sheep were introduced, then breeds from Bengal and the Cape of Good Hope. Finally, good fortune and enterprise conspired to provide the colony with several pairs of merinos from Spain, which the Spanish government, at great expense, was sending to the Viceroy of Peru on a ship captured by an English vessel out of Port Jackson.’11
This is not true. The first merinos were legally imported from South Africa in 1797 and the breed was improved by settlers John and Elizabeth Macarthur. Piracy was not involved. However, Péron accurately predicts that wool will become a mainstay of the colonial economy.
‘This species, like the others, has improved greatly, and there is reason to believe that in a few years Port Jackson will be able to supply valuable and abundant material to the manufacturers of England.’12