Prison Ship (12 page)

On the other side of the bay I noticed scores of little lights floating on the water. This looked magical. Next to us in the rigging was a leathery sea dog called Isaac who had been here several times already. A telescope hung at his waist and I borrowed it to peer through the gloom. There were several small canoes, and the lights seemed to be fires burning in the centre of each vessel. Aboard, two to a boat, were lithe black men – one piloting with some skill, the other casting a line into the water. Isaac took a look too. He told me the men cooked the fish right there in their canoes.

‘Clever buggers,' he said with some admiration. ‘They make those canoes from tree bark and place a slab of mud down in the middle and build a fire on it. It's not easy lighting and keeping a fire on a small boat. And look at him, standing up to do his fishing. It's a wonder the boat don't capsize.'

We watched in silence then Isaac spoke again. ‘There's been trouble with them natives ever since we first got here. Some say they're no better than vermin, and shoot
them if they can. Some of the natives kill any of our men they catch alone. I'd keep well away from them.'

He seemed torn in his reaction to these dark-skinned men. ‘I've been all over the world on my travels,' he told us. ‘Everywhere I've been – from Zanzibar to Timor to Bombay – the natives have made the land their own. They've built cities and farmed the soil, and have nabobs or shahs or sultans to rule them. They speak a common tongue and have a common God. They have armies and laws and rules. But not the natives here, boys. They talk all right, in a funny grunty language, but this lot here will speak a different tongue from another lot just a day's walk away. They don't seem to like each other much either. Most of the time they laze around, doing nothing all day. But now and then they get angry about something and start attacking another bunch.'

We were both fascinated and begged him to tell us more.

His brow furrowed. ‘What else can I tell you? They live on the land like animals, grazing on fruit and berries, hunting or fishing when they need flesh in their bellies. They have no buildings. When they need shelter they take bark from the trees and make a little haven. No one can tell what manner of god they worship. Just when you begin to wonder if they're some kind of cunning, hairless monkey they'll take out a spear and hurl it with a sling, fast and true, and with a reach much greater than
any of us could throw. And they have these curved wooden throwing sticks which they use to bring down birds and land animals. The thing spins in the air, and if it misses it spins back to the man who threw it. I never seen a monkey do that.'

His ruminations were interrupted by the ship's master, calling on us to shorten our sails. The ship anchored. Our work done, Richard and I were escorted back to our cell to await the morning. I drifted off to sleep full of curiosity for this strange new land.

We woke in sharp sunlight to the cries of unfamiliar voices.

‘Who has come?'

‘Who brings letters?'

‘Who hails from Somerset?'

The names of any one of twenty other towns or counties were called out. The
Euphrates
was surrounded by little boats, each with two or three occupants. After six months passed among the same faces it was strange to see so many new ones. Casewell leaned over the side of the ship, accompanied by marines.

‘Be off with you all, before I order my men to open fire.'

Bright and early the
Euphrates
was boarded by a Naval officer and surgeon. They marched past our cell, inspecting the ship and its passengers for any sign of
disease. Much to my surprise, it was announced that the Governor of the colony, His Excellency Philip Gidley King, was to come aboard.

A tall, noble-looking man, with the hint of a Cornish accent, he talked to us with genuine concern. He was obviously a decent fellow, if a little worn down with the cares of the world. He seemed interested to know if our journey had been a good one, and whether any of us prisoners had any complaint against the men and officers of the ship.

As we prepared to go ashore, Captain Casewell came over to Richard and me. He quietly gave us each a small bag of coins. ‘I couldn't let your efforts go without reward boys,' he said. ‘It's not much, but it'll start you off.' We had some money, of course, carefully hoarded throughout the voyage, but this was a welcome addition.

We were taken by boat to a supply ship over the bay. As we left the
Euphrates
I noticed goods from England piled up on the deck ready for unloading. There were boxes of nails, perhaps hundreds of thousands of them, axes piled in bundles, women's petticoats, leather shoes and even a printing press. We were importing our civilisation to this untamed land, lock, stock and barrel.

Once aboard the supply ship we washed ourselves and were given new clothes. Then we were taken to the shore. Milling around on the quayside was a large crowd of men, women and children curious to see who would
be joining them. I expected to see a collection of sickly, ragged scarecrows, but I was wrong. They were a brown and weather-beaten lot for landlubbers, but they seemed to be in good health and looked well fed. Their clothes were no better or worse than those you would see in any English town.

As we grew nearer, the cries began again.

‘Who is from London?'

‘Who is from Lancaster?'

‘Does any man have news of William Sharrock?'

Most often of all: ‘Who has letters?'

This was what exile did. Left you desperate for news of home. Now, all of a sudden, I felt desolate and very far from Norfolk.

Our boat pulled up to the quay and we were hustled ashore, placing our feet on dry land for the first time in maybe seven months. It was a peculiar experience, especially for those among us who had never been to sea before. Some of them staggered around as if drunk, and could not stop themselves swaying. Some were so befuddled by the change they began to vomit.

As we assembled on the quay, a strange ritual was being enacted on the other side of the harbour, where women from one of the other convict ships were disembarking. They were lined up along the waterside, and hundreds of men flocked to see them. The bolder among them would approach a girl and then drop a handker
chief at her feet. If she picked it up, he would take her off with him.

‘That's what passes for courtship round here,' said Joseph Swales, who had come to the quay with Daniel, Richard and I. ‘The finest women have already been picked up by the officers and officials on board. They'll have taken them as housekeepers and nurses for their children, but it's always the prettiest that get chosen rather than the sturdiest and soberest. Then six months later, half of them are with child and get cast out into the street to fend for themselves.'

If it was true, then Sydney was a place where those who held power could be just as wicked as the villains they were charged to mind.

Those of us from the
Euphrates
were marched up a small hill. We assembled in a courtyard in front of the Governor's office and were surrounded by ranks of marines. Away from the cooling breeze of the bay the sun burned fiercely on our heads. Governor King appeared with another official who proceeded to give us a well-rehearsed sermon.

‘Many of you here will be feeling a deep sense of melancholy as you contemplate your exile from family and friends in your homeland. But, although it may not seem like it at the moment, your first day here in the colony is the start of a considerable opportunity. Sydney
is not a prison, it is a town. You may come and go within its boundaries, conditional upon your duties, and with some degree of freedom. Instead of walls and bars you have the forest and ocean to keep you here. Sharks patrol the seas around you and any man foolish enough to venture into the bush that surrounds our enclave will soon die of thirst and hunger. The natives are out there waiting with their spears to kill and eat you.'

I heard Swales snort to himself. ‘Now that's a pretty tale,' he said quietly. ‘I never heard of no native eatin' one of us.'

I strained to hear the rest of the speech. ‘Any man who can call himself a craftsman or has skills that constitute a trade may step forward now and declare himself.'

This was the moment we had been waiting for. Captain Casewell had spoken of it to Doctor Dan, and we were well prepared for what would happen next. Dan, Richard and I stood forward. So did several other men from the
Euphrates
who had been carpenters, blacksmiths, wainwrights and the like. We were ushered into a side room in the barracks by the house.

As we walked away I heard the speaker continue, ‘Some of you here will be assigned to work on the farms of officers, government officials and free settlers. They will provide you with shelter and sustenance. Some of you will also work for your new masters as servants.'

I felt a surge of pity for the men we were leaving behind. Swales had told me how some masters were kind but most were heartless, treating their men and women as little better than slaves. He knew of one fellow from his time before here, who served out his seven-year sentence on a farm. The man was from Somerset and well used to agricultural work, unlike many of the other convicts, most of whom were townies from London or Lancashire. As this man's sentence came to an end he was told he would be given his own plot of land to farm. The master didn't want to lose this man so he accused him of theft, almost on his last day. He was flogged and sentenced to a further seven years' labour on the farm. The story took an even darker turn when the man murdered his master and went on the run. By the time they caught him he had killed two of his pursuers.

‘Hung he was,' said Swales, ‘on the edge of town, overlooking the fields he should have been farming for himself. You keep out of any assignments with farmers, boys. They'll feed you gruel and work you to death.'

My thoughts were interrupted by a marine calling me into a small room with a desk on which was placed a large leather-bound ledger. Behind it sat a slight, bespectacled young man two or three years older than me. He had about him a raffish air and seemed faintly amused by the whole proceedings. His hands were so soft he had obviously never done a day's hard work in his life. We
were left alone. He nodded at me to sit and gave a friendly smile.

‘So, my friend, what's your line of business?'

I recognised that accent at once. Ordinarily, I would not be so forward with officials but this fellow invited an easy intimacy. ‘You're from Norwich, aren't you,' I said with a grin.

‘I certainly am, sir,' he laughed. ‘James Lyons at your service. And whereabouts in Norfolk might you be from?'

I was taken aback. I had expected a stern officer accompanied by an even sterner marine, ready to enter me into a muster book with scant ceremony. Certainly not this good-natured fellow.

We went through the usual questions, date and place of birth, previous occupation. James was most interested in the fact that I could read and write.

‘Now I need to ask you the date of your trial, the nature of your offence and the length of your sentence.'

I told him. ‘April of this year. Cowardice. Death commuted to a life sentence of transportation.' I thought to myself, ‘What a story.'

Rather than writing this all down, James pulled his seat forward and leaned closer. ‘Did you know the
Euphrates
arrived with no record of the crimes and sentences of its convicts?'

I was astounded. Then I felt despair sweep over me
for giving so much away.

James could tell what I was thinking. ‘Let's ask these questions again, shall we? But before we proceed, I have to tell you there'll be an administrative fee for the processing of the records.' He was still smiling, but his manner had turned more weaselly. Perhaps he was not quite as nice as I had thought.

‘Er … What sort of fee would we be looking at?' I said, searching his face for any clue.

His mouth turned down, revealing his teeth as he sucked in air sharply. ‘Hmmm. From life to seven years. Can't do you any less than that, but you'll have prospects when you're done. Especially as you've a trade in your sailing skills, and you can read and write. What's that worth, Sam?'

I resented his familiar manner, but he was offering me an extraordinary opportunity. My mind raced with fear and excitement. Could I trust him? What if I said the wrong thing and he changed his mind about helping me? What if he was found out? But then, when would I have another opportunity like this? I reached for my mother's ring on the ribbon around my neck and placed it on the table.

‘Oh, no,' he said in an oddly patient way, and shook his head. ‘That's quite inappropriate.'

I began to panic. Was it not enough? It was the most valuable thing I owned.

‘I'm just looking for a few shillings, you dolt. You could almost buy a house for that round here.'

I couldn't believe my luck. This James wasn't so bad after all.

I took the ten shillings Captain Casewell had given me and placed that down on the table. James counted out seven coins and gave me back three.

‘You can buy me a beer with some of that down at the Sailor's Arms. I'm sure to see you in there one night soon enough. It's down by the Rocks. That's where all of us government men live.'

‘Government men?' I was puzzled.

‘No one likes to be called a convict round here, Sam,' he said. ‘Best learn that right from the start.'

I was taken aback. ‘You're a convict?' I had expected the clerks to be marines or officials of some sort.

‘Government man. I am, yes. Now let's see,' he began to write in the record book. ‘Seven years, for – What d'you fancy? Banditry? Coining? Treasonable conduct? Being overfamiliar with a sheep?' I looked horrified. He laughed. ‘Had all that lot in from one of the other boats just now. They came with their records, more's the pity for them.' After a brief pause he said, ‘Let's go for theft. Most of them are here for theft, so that won't stand out as anything unusual. Now, your next stop is the Navy office. They're particularly keen to see fellows like you.' He gave me directions and our meeting was over.