There was not a scrap of gold leaf or other naval ornamentation but Kydd felt a growing respect, even awe, for this humble ship so newly emerged from the unknown regions.
He was met at the side by her commander. "My ship is all ahoo, sir—it's my intention to sail just as soon as these scallywag shipwrights can set her to rights." Flinders was of slight build and about his own age; Kydd was struck by his eyes, soulful against dark hair. "Shall we take refuge below?"
In Investigator's great cabin, smaller even than Kydd's quarters in Totnes Castle, every conceivable surface was set out with papers and charts. On one, a large black cat with white figuring looked balefully at Kydd, then leaped straight at Flinders, who caught him neatly.
"This is the noble Trim," Flinders said, as he affectionately stroked the jet-black fur. "The butler in Tristram Shandy, of course. He's been aboard since the first, and must be accounted the most nearly travelled of all his tribe."
Flinders found a chair for Kydd and sat at his desk with the cat curling fussily into his lap.
"Sir, y'r fame is assured fr'm what I've been told about y'r exploring," Kydd began.
Flinders inclined his head civilly. "Should the Good Lord and the rotten timbers of this ship allow, I shall complete a circumnavigation of this vast land, Mr Kydd."
Kydd leaned back in admiration. What it must be to swing a bowsprit between two headlands where no man had been before! Was there to be a bay opening beyond, deep and broad, or was this to be a mysterious passage separating two great lands?
He knew that the man before him, within this present voyage, had finally established that New Holland was one immense continent, there was no navigable channel leading from a vast inland sea or any other. Flinders had achieved this and therefore solved the last great geographical question remaining. There was no doubt that his name would be known to history.
"Ah, Mr Flinders, I'm curious—for th' fixing of the longitude, should ye sight something of interest."
"A hard question! If it be convenient to come to an anchor, then I find the method of eclipses of Jupiter's keepers answers when taken with a worked lunar distance. The chronometers are there to verify. Under way, of course, it is a task for the compass and a carefully measured log-line to fix the position relative to the last known."
"A compass is a fickle enough thing t' use in strange waters."
Flinders looked at Kydd sharply. "Indeed. Yet on this voyage I have observations that may persuade you. I am to communicate these to Sir Joseph Banks but the essence of them is that there is a fixed error attributable not to polar magnetic orientation but magnetism induced in the ship's own upright iron fittings by the earth's vertical magnetic component. A deviation, sir, not a variation."
At Kydd's serious expression he intoned gravely to a properly respectful cat:
Then through the chiliad's triple maze they trace
Th' analogy that proves the magnet's place,
The wayward steel, to truth thus reconcil'd
No more th' attentive pilot's eye beguiled . . .
Flinders stood and selected one of his charts. "See here," he said, outlining the continent. "Terra Australis, or 'Australia' as I've come to call it." His voice dropped as he continued: "From a hundred and twelve degrees east to a hundred and fifty-three— over forty degrees in width, the same distance as from Africa to the Caribbean, London to Muscovy. What must lie hidden within its inland immensity, awaiting a bold man's discovery?"
He laid down the chart carefully. "You have not seen the half of its wonders here. There are penguins, giant crocodiles, nameless creatures of fantastical appearance whose only home is this land, and snakes of a size and deadliness that would match any. And territory of a wild beauty that speaks to the heart—and of all nations we are called to grow and populate it."
Careening could not begin until another vessel had been completed, and the shipwrights resolutely refused to work on the lower strakes of Totnes Castle until then. It was a very different pace of life in the colony from England, for hurry had no place in a society where events were so few and far between.
Redfern was an agreeable companion but had medical duties, and would soon return to Norfolk Island, and society, even in this remoteness, made a distinction that placed the idle redcoats of the New South Wales Corps ahead of a mere merchant-vessel captain, especially of a convict ship.
In two weeks Commander Flinders in HMS Investigator had departed for the north; Kydd watched their progress out to sea from the lonely signal station atop the southern head of the harbour entrance, seeing her last communication with the colony and her sails bright against the steel-grey of the empty ocean diminishing in size as she stood well out to make her offing.
Back at the cottage he decided to write to Cecilia. There was possibly a chance that a returning ship would sail soon and take it to England; otherwise he would find himself carrying back his own letter to her. Still, it would occupy the time.
He stared out of the window to gather his thoughts, nibbling the end of his quill.
He supposed Renzi would have written to her before they left and explained his departure, but if he was in the same mood of disengagement from his old world then it was likely she would have had no word of his decision.
But what could he say when he himself had no idea of where Renzi was or how far along his path to attainment of whatever it was he yearned for? No doubt he could find Renzi but respect and reluctance to intrude prevented it. He would omit anything about him therefore.
What would seize Cecilia's interest and imagination, then, here in this wild and remote corner of the world? The wildlife, certainly: the curious whip bird, wonga pigeons and smaller folk like the white-footed rabbit rat. He had seen black swans, calm and serene—fine-tasting they were, too—as well as the big, bounding kangaroos and the unknown tribes of nocturnal creatures that could turn the night into a riot of unearthly sounds.
She would want to know about society: it would amuse her to see the earnest striving after fashion by the ladies when their only resources were six-month-old newspapers and the odd articles of dress brought in as ventures by visiting ships. And it was not so easy to explain how difficult it was to maintain a distance from the convicts when so many walked free about the town with a ticket-of-leave that enabled them to pursue a trade or even engage in business.
In fact, how could he convey the whole feel of a settlement established for the purpose of the removal of criminal elements far from society at a time when it was so clearly being altered and improved with permanent building and an inflow of free settlers?
There were other things: there was not a drop of beer—it did not last the voyage and there were no hops here for a brewery. Rum was the universal tipple, with wine only for the well-off.
Then there were the black people. Around Sydney Town, the Eora loitered on street corners with lobster claws in their bushy dark curls, their bodies smelling of rancid fat; some sprawled hopelessly drunk. Dark tales were still told about occasional spearings and the kidnap of white women, and one runaway convict had recently come staggering back with stories of bodies roasting on a fire.
There would certainly be many things to tell of when he re-turned—when he returned. For him there would be his promised ship, but for Cecilia . . . What could he say? Cecilia must now face her own future.