Map Matters /
/ Issue 1
Issue 11July 2010
/ Inside this issue
/ News
World Hydrography Day Dinner
The Portuguese view on first contact with Australia
How far have we come?
What happened to the Zuytdorp and its crew?
Projects update
Members welcome
/ Contacts
How to contact the AOTM Division
/ Welcome to the"Winter" 2010edition of Map Matters,
the newsletter of the Australia on the Map Division of the
Australasian Hydrographic Society.
/ If you have any contributions or suggestions for
Map Matters, you can email them to me at: , or post them to me at:
GPO Box 1781, Canberra, 2601
FrankGeurts
Editor
News
/World Hydrography Day Dinner
/ Who said hydrography was dull? Hopefully the 45 people who attended the World Hydrography Day Dinner in Canberra recently would think otherwise. There were rare maps, special guests, entertaining speakers, an award ceremony, even cutlasses ... hydrography in all its glory.The Australia on the Map Division continues to be actively involved in promoting World Hydrography Day on 21 June, and this year was no exception. For the occasion it was decided to have a formal dinner, but not just one with fine food and drink, but something that would entertain and educate, particularly as it is the 90th anniversary of the Australian Hydrographic Service. We hope our guests were not disappointed.
The venue was the highly reputable Bookplate at the National Library of Australia, but the evening began outside the Map Room, where guests mingled before taking in a display of rare and historic maps kindly arranged by the Curator of Maps, Dr Martin Woods. From there we moved up to Bookplate, regaled with Eastern European folk and Gypsy music as we entered. Guests found a strange assortment of items on their tables—compasses, telescopes, protractors, even cutlasses, fortunately only toy ones. They were urged to take these away in case they had a need to navigate the high seas. Another little surprise also lay in store. A mysterious document rolled up and tied up with a ribbon. But eventually all was revealed, when they undid the document each guest found themselves in possession of a copy of the 1811 Freycinet Map, the first full map of Australia ever to be published. This was to serve as a reminder that the 200th anniversary of the publication of that map takes place next year.
Following a delicious main course of things like Maryland duck, Commodore Rod Nairn, the Hydrographer of Australia, was invited to address the gathering on the significance of World Hydrography Day and the 90th anniversary of the Australian Hydrographic Service. Commodore Nairn gave a refreshing and insightful address, noting some of the role and achievements of the Hydrographic Service and hydrographers over the last 90 years.
Following his address Commodore Nairn was asked to present the Australasian Hydrographic Society’s Literary Achievement Award. We are proud to say that Australia on the Map Division member Robert King was the recipient of the award, recognising his contributions to maritime history and trade, political geography in relation to treaties, with papers published in three different languages. His work on the erroneous origins of the ‘Dieppe Maps’ was particularly noted.
Robert King (left) being presented with Literary Achievement Award by Commodore Nairn /
One further highlight of the evening was an short lecture by Dr Martin Woods on "The Trouble With Titles", how some map titles can be highly misleading, at times deliberately so. Martin’s lecture was exquisitely informative and well received by the attentive guests. Rounding off the evening were performances on the piano by Cornelie Dragusin—pieces from the likes of Chopin, Mendelssohn, Bach and Bartok.
With such fine food, food for thought, beautiful music and good company, the whole evening was judged to have been a great success. So now we look forward to World Hydrography Day next year, and how we might commemorate that in a way that reflects the importance and dignity of the occasion.
Rupert Gerritsen
/
The Portuguese view on first contact with Australia
/ The following article appeared in the Portuguese newspaper, Publico, on 8 May 2008. A translation of the report provides a Portuguese perspective on claims of precedence in being the first outsiders to visit Australian shores./ Os portugueses estiveram na Austrália:os ingleses descobriram-na
(The Portuguese went to Australia: The English discovered it)
Susana Almeida Ribeiro
Debate a propósito do livro ‘Para Além de Capricórnio’
(Debate about the book, Beyond Capricorn).
Eleven years ago João Oliveira e Costa went to work in Australia. Wanting to figure out the requirements of the Portuguese community installed in the antipodes, the University of Lisbon historian decided to ask his compatriots what they needed. “Diving equipment,” had been the answer. “The reason being?” he asked. “We want to go to the bottom of the sea to find the proof that the Portuguese were the first to arrive here,” they answered.
This episode, told as an anecdote by Professor Oliveira e Costa at the conference, “The Portuguese in Australia”, that took place today in the Museum of Science, Coimbra, served to set the frame for a discussion that is not at all recent. Since the second half of the 19th century the possibility that it was the Portuguese who were the first to reach the Australian coasts has been discussed, even though the official discoverer is recorded to have been the British navigator James Cook, in 1770. The debate flared up again following the recent publication in Portuguese of the book Para Além de Capricórnio (“Beyond Capricorn”), of journalist Peter Trickett (published last year). This Briton residing in Australia defended the theory that the Portuguese—more specifically Cristóvão de Mendonça—were the first Europeans to arrive on the Australian continent as early as the first quarter of the 16th century. The journalist based himself on observations and experiments with some charts of the Vallard Atlas, a set of 15 maps that historians accept to have been made from Portuguese charts that describe 120 geographic features with Portuguese-style names. But this theory, besides not being recent, is, as well, looked at askance in a more or less pacific way by the scientific community. Since Alfonso de Albuquerque arrived at Malacca (currently in the territory of Malaysia), at the beginning of the 16th century (1511), that location became a strategic base for Portuguese expansion in the south of Asia. It is unthinkable that the Portuguese and Spanish having entered the sea routes of the Javanese archipelago, did not take account of an enormous continent that was practically “there right beside”. “They had gone everywhere and yet had not noticed that little island!” ironically observed Francisco Contente Domingues of the Faculty of Letters of the University of Lisbon, in moderating the round table that followed the colloquium.
João Oliveira e Costa also confirmed his conviction: “I have no doubt that it was the Portuguese who arrived there first, even in the reign of Dom Manuel I (1469-1521)."
In the same way, Luis Filipe Thomaz, a specialist in Oriental Studies at the Catholic University, said that exploration of the Australian coast by the Portuguese was suggested by several indications, such as archaeological finds, the oral accounts of Aborigines and by the cartographic school of Dieppe, the French locality where the Vallard Atlas, which served as the basis of Trickett’s book, was made. It is, therefore, almost impossible not to believe that the Portuguese had not taken account of the Australian coasts from the moment they arrived at Malacca. “Recognizing the restlessness of the Portuguese, they could not have gone more than a decade without discovering it,” explained José Azevedo e Silva, Professor of the College of Letters of the University of Coimbra, who attended the conference.
If the first Portuguese to come to the western Australian coast was João Alfonso, later known as Jean Alphonce de Saintonges, according tothe theory proposed by Luis Filipe Thomaz, Diogo Pacheco or Cristóvão Mendonça (the theory advanced by Trickett) seem, yes, to be more difficult to accept. Perhaps impossible. In any case, the question is not so much to know who arrived first, but first and foremost who is recorded to have discovered it and gave to Australia a place in the community of nations. And those who did this, effectively, were the English, through the intermediary of James Cook. “To arrive first in a place does not have any importance, because this is not referable. The important thing is to arrive and to come back [… making a land discovered into the] collective patrimony of civilization,” observed Francisco Domingues, professor and researcher in Portuguese Maritime History. “The Portuguese went to Australia; the English discovered it,” concluded Francisco Domingues (in the sense of the term that comprehends the notion of having given to it a place in the community of nations).
“Australia, we know as it today, was created by James Cook,” concluded João Oliveira e Costa. In a similar way, José Leitão Barata, mestre in the History of Discoveries, made it known that he “is not very interested in knowing if it was the Portuguese or the Dutch who arrived first in Australia. This territory only starts to exist beginning with Cook,” who arrived at the continent at the time when England was already in its industrial period. Later, as is known, the continent served for the reception of British prisoners, a kind of prison-land. “Australia served for sending people of no interest to a land of no interest,” explained Oliveira e Costa.
Much secrecy and little gold
But then how to explain why the Portuguese, while being able to claim the immense territory of Australia for the Portuguese Crown, had not done so? Before all else because all voyages in that part of the globe were the subject of great secrecy. As is known, from 1494 the world was divided in two by the Treaty of Tordesillas. An imaginary line was traced about 1,700 kilometres to the west of the Cape Verde islands (crossing the eastern tip of Brazil) which divided the area of maritime activity by the inhabitants of the Iberian Peninsula. But if in the Atlantic this division was clearly marked, the location of the anti-meridian was more nebulous. That is, on the other side of the world all navigation was undertaken with more caution and “in very murkywaters,” never knowing exactly if the boundaries were being exceeded or not. This explains the secrecy which the expeditions faced and can explain why the Portuguese never “celebrated with fireworks” an eventual pioneering discovery of Australia.
Another explanation, widely accepted by researchers, is that the Portuguese did not settle in Australia simply because it did not interest them. “The Portuguese did not want to go to Australia, simply because there was no plan to do so. Only a very strong motive, such as gold, would have made them go back there. Once there was no gold (at least in quantities that made it worth the effort), there was no reason to go back there,” explained Alberto Barata. “The Indian Ocean coast of Australia is inhospitable and for 300 years was of no interest from a commercial point of view. The little gold that seemed to be there did not justify the investment of sending a large fleet to the region,” explained Oliveira e Costa. As well, the region was difficult for navigation. The maritime routes always had the flavour of “rolling toward Asia,” that is, of the monsoons, and of the winds of the region, called the Trade Winds. “Thus, it was therefore perceived that Australia was not part of the traditional routes. There were many difficulties in navigating from the Javanese archipelago to Australia and vice versa. So it was on a sea route that was not commonly used,” explained Jorge Semedo de Matos, of the Naval School.
In summary, “the Portuguese went to Australia but Australia did not at all interest them,” concluded Francisco Domingues.
Robert King
/
How far have we come? What happened to the Zuytdorp and its crew?
/ Prior to 1611, all those voyaging across the vastness of the Indian Ocean—the Dutch, the Portuguese, Arabs, Indians, even the Chinese—had followed a route around the northern rim of the Indian Ocean, reliant on the monsoonal winds that changed direction with the seasons. Then, in 1611, Hendrik Brouwer made a bold proposal that Dutch ships sailing to the East Indies, upon leaving the Cape of Good Hope at the southern tip of Africa, should sail directly west across the Indian Ocean, running before the storms of the Roaring Forties for6-7,000 kilometres, before turning north for Java. This would cut the voyage down by six months. From 1617 all Dutch ships were officially instructed to follow what has become known as the Brouwer Route. There was, however, one drawback, the problem of establishing longitude and the distance they had sailed. And this drawback had at times serious, even fatal, consequences.
Hipparchus, in the 2nd century BC, had recognised that time differences related to the distance apart places were. Then the Arab mathematician Al Biruni, in the 11th century, came to the realisation that these time differences were the result of the rotation of the Earth. Using this concept and improvements in the accuracy of time pieces it became possible to determine relative longitudinal position on land. But even the best timepieces were unable to function properly on board a ship. Consequently it took several centuries before a practical method for determining longitude at sea could be devised.
While most have heard of John Harrison’s endeavours in making a robust and accurate marine chronometer to win the Longitude Prize in 1773, until the mid-19th century the “lunar distance method” was actually the preferred method of determining longitude. Calculating “lunars”, based on tables published in the Nautical Almanac and Astronomical Ephemeris from 1767, became an integral part of the training of sea captains and navigators. But neither marine chronometers nor “lunars” were available to sailors in the 17th and early 18th centuries, and so they were reliant on “dead reckoning”. Usually this involved throwing a “log” over the side and timing how quickly the knots (placed every 47 ft 3 ins or 14.4018 m) on the attached rope were paid out, to calculate sea speed. This was not very accurate as the log was only used at intervals to sample speed and the resulting calculations didn’t account for the speed and direction of currents (drift and set) or the angle the wind pushed the vessel (leeway). As the distance from a known point increased, these inaccuracies multiplied.
The dangers and limitations of the Brouwer Route became evident almost immediately. In 1616 the very first vessel to cross the Indian Ocean by this route, the Eendracht, under the command of Dirk Hartog, unexpectedly came upon the unknown west coast of Australia. Here, at Inscription Point on Dirk Hartog Island, he left his famous plate to mark his visit. But others were not so fortunate. The Batavia came to grief on Morning Reef in the Wallabi Group of the Abrolhos Islands, about 60 kilometres off the central WA coast, during the early hours of 4 June 1629. According to the skipper Jacobsz’ reckoning they were still over 1,400 kilometres from land. He had been on watch at the time, and thought he had seen “spray in the distance”, but one of the gunners on lookout said it was just “the shine of the Moon”.
Between 1629 and 1727 four Dutch ships in all came to grief on the coast of Western Australia, all at night time. Apart from the Batavia, there was the Vergulde Draeck, which struck a reef about five kilometres offshore of the central west coast on 28 April 1656, the Zuytdorp which came up against cliffs about 560 kilometres north of Perth, probably in early June 1712, and the Zeewijk, which hit an outlying reef of the Pelsaert or Southern Group of the Abrolhos Islands on 9 June 1727. In the case of the Zeewijk it was a similar sad tale, the lookout had seen surf breaking but thought it was just the moon reflecting off the sea.
With the wreck of the Zuytdorp there a number of unusual or unique elements. It was the only one of the Dutch ships to be wrecked on the coast rather than offshore. Unlike the other wrecks, no survivors made it back to Batavia (modern day Jakarta) to raise the alarm. However, it seems the disaster led to the largest number of crew and passengers from any Dutch ship being permanently marooned on the coast of Western Australia, perhaps as many as 180 people. But because no-one returned to tell the tale, reconstructing what actually took place relies largely on archaeological evidence.
The drama that unfolded was unknown to the outside world until a report of wreckage being found surfaced in 1927. An expedition to the wreck site followed in 1939, followed by two more in 1954 and 1958, led by geologist Dr Phillip Playford. But it was not until 1959 that the wreck’s identity could be established. It seems the Zuytdorp had run almost straight into sheer cliffs, about 180 metres high, described by Vlamingh in 1697 “as if they had been chopped off with an axe”. These cliffs are now known as the Zuytdorp Cliffs.
/ Zuytdorp Cliffs
From the orientation of the debris field, including a carpet of silver coins, revealed by underwater archaeological investigation in the 1960s and 1970s, it would seem upon striking the Zuytdorp then swung side-on to the cliffs. Those on board were fortunate that they found themselves hard up against a rocky platform at the base of the cliffs. The fact that many survived is attested to by the extent and nature of the material found on the rocky platform, at the top of the cliffs or around a local rock hole. This included piles of green glass from 2-3 litre capacity bottles, barrels rings, a large bronze dish, parts of muskets, sets of brass dividers, a set square, cannon ball callipers, coins, belt buckles, keys, scales, rolls of lead sheeting weighing about 22 kg, sheets of copper, fragments of clay pipes and so forth. Perhaps the most telling sign of survival was the presence of 8 bronze breech-blocks from the swivel cannons, each weighing about 11 kg, arranged in a circle with a “navigation instrument” in the middle.