Lands of Red and Gold #22: The Voyage of Tales
“These Wesel Landers have the most unpleasant looks and the worst features of any people that I ever saw. Black and naked of skin, hair frizzled, their frames tall and thin, their face and chests painted white with lime or some similar pigment, their appearance is altogether distressing and unwelcoming.
They are the most wretched people in the world. They lack for houses, garments of cloth or even of animal skin, they keep no sheep, poultry, or beast of any kind. Their food comes from country that yields only meagre fish and roots that they dig wild from the earth. They have no herbs or pulses, no grains or fruit that we saw, and lack the tools to catch the wild birds and beasts.”
Or so wrote Jan Vos, captain of the Hasewint, one of the three yachts in de Houtman’s expedition, sent to explore the western coast of what would come to be called Aururia. He wrote this unflattering depiction of the inhabitants of what they had called Wesel Land; the first land they had sighted since passing through the Sunda Strait between Java and Sumatra [1].
His descriptions were harsh, but his disappointment was perhaps understandable. He and his fellow captains had heard wild tales of the land which they were to explore. De Houtman had been reasonably circumspect in his descriptions, but he had still spoken of a land of gold, sandalwood and tobacco, where the iron-using inhabitants had endless fields of yams and strange flowering trees. The tales told by his sailors were more exaggerated, and grew in each telling and retelling in Batavia in the months between the Dordrecht’s arrival and the departure of the new voyage.
Instead of the expected land of abundance, their first landfall at Wesel Land (named after one of the expedition’s ships) found only an eroded, infertile country of coastal sandplains. The hunter-gatherer inhabitants did not even know how to work metals and had no native crops. Most of their tools were of stone; only occasional metal tools of copper or rusted iron had been traded through many hands from the farming peoples further south, although the Dutch sailors did not yet know this.
Instead of the sandalwood and spices they had been expecting, the natives had nothing to offer in trade. They recognised iron and tobacco from the samples which the expedition brought, but could not supply either of those in any quantity. Worse, the Dutch could not even communicate with them; the people here had no language in common with the native interpreters which de Houtman’s expedition had brought with them.
The voyage, though, continued. From their initial landfall they sailed west, skirting and charting an island-studded coast with occasional bays and harbours, but no large rivers or fertile tracts of land. Their instructions were to search these latitudes for any sign of the most valuable spices – sandalwood, cloves, nutmeg – which might grow there wild or domesticated, or for arable land where spice plantations could be established. They found neither, only continued disappointment.
After several days of careful sailing through shallow seas and numerous islands, the coastline to their south opened into a wide gulf [Exmouth Gulf] with mangrove-lined shores and filled with sea turtles. However, the shores of this gulf were dangerously shallow, and the surrounding lands dry and uninviting, so de Houtman marked the gulf on his charts as Turtle Sound and ordered his ships around its western extremity.
Here, for the first time the coastline turned south, which was the flotilla’s expected direction. The southward voyage soon brought them into a region of the coast which was already sketchily marked on their charts; it was called Eendrachtsland, named by a Dutch explorer who had visited this region four years before.
Yet even here the disappointment continued, for an extensive coral reef along the shore [Ningaloo Reef] prevented them from coming close to the shore or making any further contact with the natives. The expedition skirted wide of the coral-lined coast, and did not make landfall again until they had cleared the reef and came to the north point of a sand-dune covered island.
Here, they made a remarkable discovery. A pewter plate had been nailed to a tree on this island. Its inscription announced that this island had been visited by Dirk Hartog on the ship Eendracht in 1616 [2].
De Houtman noted the discovery of the plate in his journal, and mentioned the shallow waters of the bay further inland, although he did not give it a name. Because of the shallow water and unpredictable currents, he ordered his ships not to enter the bay, and after resupplying with water, they continued their journey south.
De Houtman would never find out that he had bypassed the northernmost Atjuntja outpost, which the locals called Dugong Bay. A penal colony established to mine salt and collect pearls, this outpost lacked sufficient water to sustain any substantial agriculture; being appointed as governor of Dugong Bay was a punishment reserved for Atjuntja nobles who had gravely displeased the King of Kings.
Once past the island, the expedition drew near a more familiar section of coastline. Here, only the year before, de Houtman had discovered a series of low-lying islands with coral reefs surrounding them, which he had called the Abrolhos [3]. Because they had no high points or headlands to make them visible from a distance, he had almost lost a ship to the reefs the year before.
This time, because he knew of their location, he deliberately ordered his ships to stay closer to shore, making careful progress while charting the coastline. Their caution meant that while they sighted the mainland coast many times, they did not attempt to land until they reached a locale where they were sure that there was a useful harbour or other safe landing.
After slow progress against unfavourable winds and contrary currents, de Houtman’s three ships reached a large promontory jutting into the Indian Ocean. The shelter of this promontory created a reasonable harbour. In this, they found several wharfs and jetties built into the water, with several small boats and canoes anchored. On the shore beyond, they saw the first houses of wood and stone, and knew that they had found what they sought.
The houses which clustered around the docks were those of the artisans, fishermen and common folk of the Binyin people who were native to this region. Beyond those houses, de Houtman’s sailors found field after field filled with workers. They watched as the workers methodically dug out the yams, cut off the main part of the bulky tuber, replanted the remnant of the tuber and refilled the hole. Thus, they became the first Europeans to witness a yam harvest [4].
Once they had bargained for safe travel, de Houtman’s sailors also became the first Europeans to glimpse an Atjuntja garrion-city. Inland, beyond the docks and the low houses, rose walls of pale orange sandstone, a statement both of defence and authority. This garrison-city of Seal Point was the residence of the Atjuntja governor of this region, as well as housing the administrators who oversaw life here, and the soldiers who enforced their will.
De Houtman’s expedition had brought two interpreters with them, peasants who had more or less voluntarily accompanied de Houtman’s sailors on his first visit to the South Land [5]. These peasants were of the Djarwari people who dwelt further south, but their dialect was close enough to the locals to allow communication.
Contact was wary, but peaceful. The Atjuntja governor had been forewarned by post-runners, who carried word from further south of the brief skirmish near Archers Nest [Perth]. He did not allow any of the Dutch sailors inside the walls of Seal Point, but they were permitted to visit the local town which had grown up outside the walls. The Dutch found the town-dwellers to be quite friendly, especially some of the local women.
Although the Dutch did not know this at the time, this friendly contact would have unfortunate consequences for both sides. De Houtman’s ships had already sailed on when the Dutch sailors started to fall ill with a strange form of influenza which brought quick fatigue and turned faces and lips blue. In time, this illness would claim the lives of seventeen Dutch sailors, including Captain Jan Vos of the Hasewint, and weaken many more. Their interpreters recognised the disease and called it “blue-sleep,” but the Dutch sailors christened it sweating-fever.
While they were in Spear Point, however, de Houtman and his sailors knew nothing of this. In accordance with his instructions, he offered the Atjuntja governor the friendship and protection of the United Netherlands. When that offer was translated and understood, it produced nothing but raucous laughter. The governor of Seal Point explained that friendship was all very well, and not to be despised. Yet all of the Middle Country was under the rule of the King of Kings, who lived in the White City at the centre of the universe, and who needed protection from nothing in the mortal realms.
With this exchange, de Houtman finally began to grasp the extent of the nation he had made contacted. He had made landfall at a place more than 400 kilometres further north than his first visit, only to be told that it was under the rule of the same King of Kings in a distant city. He knew that the Atjuntja lands extended some distance further north and an indeterminate distance to the east, and now he was reminded that the White City was somewhere far to the south, too.
When his diplomatic advances came to naught, de Houtman and his fellow captains explored a matter which was even closer to their hearts: trade. The Company had been generous in supplying them with samples of trade goods: iron and steel manufactures; linen and other textiles; Coromandel goods such as lacquered boxes, screens and chests [6]; metals, gems and similar such as gold, silver, lead, tin, pearls, and coloured glass; and very limited quantities of spices such as nutmeg, mace, sandalwood, tobacco and cloves.
To their delight, the Atjuntja governor and his administrators recognised most of their trade goods. Gold and silver they acknowledged, although they did not appear greatly impressed. Lead they viewed with disdain as commonplace; pearls and glass interested them more. Textiles and lacquer work interested them even more, as did some of the iron cookware and utensils [7]. Of the most valued goods, the spices, though, they recognised tobacco but treated it as nothing of consequence, and they thought that the Indian sandalwood was inferior. Alas, of the other spices, they knew nothing, and appeared to care but little.
To de Houtman’s frustration, though, the Atjuntja governor bluntly refused to conduct trade. He explained that everything valuable in the Middle Country belonged to the King of Kings, and that it would not be traded without his permission. Everyday items such as food, wood and tobacco could be exchanged as gifts between friends, and some of them had already been supplied to the visiting Dutch. However, items of value such as gold, silver, sandalwood, “worked goods” and kunduri were part of the tribute owed to the King of Kings, and could not be exchanged elsewhere without his approval.
The Dutch disappointment was almost palpable; severe enough that de Houtman took some time before he remembered to ask what kunduri was. His interpreter refused to relay the question, saying that would be like asking a man to explain what water was. Instead, the interpreter simply explained that kunduri was to tobacco what yam wine was to water.
After three days of explanation and frustration, de Houtman decided that they had found out all that they could from Seal Point. Privately, he told his captains that he hoped to find a place further south where the natives would be willing to trade, no matter what restrictions their emperor might have placed on them.
From Seal Point, the expedition continued southward, charting the coast and noting as they explored that the shore country was becoming ever more fertile. De Houtman and his captains named many geographical features, with no regard whatsoever for what the natives called them.
The captains knew both elation and frustration as they ventured ever further south. Elation, because their methodical progress permitted them to draw extremely accurate charts of the coastline, currents, and other features of interest. Frustration, because the fever claimed too many of their crew, and because further visits to the coast provided exchanges of food but met the same absolute refusal to trade any goods which the natives deemed valuable.
Before too much longer, the expedition struck trouble. The three ships were nearing the latitude where de Houtman had made landfall on his last visit. Mindful of the bloodshed on this previous occasion, he had planned to avoid any contact with the natives in this region. Alas, weather and ocean currents interfered with his plans. Overnight, the wind shifted to a land breeze, and unknown to his captains, an eddy in the current pushed their ships further out to sea [8].
The Wesel, at that point the lead yacht in the expedition, struck rocks near an offshore island. De Houtman had known of this island, naming it Rottnest on his previous expedition, but had not been able to warn the other ships in time. Taking on water, the Wesel’s new captain had no choice put to bring the vessel into sheltered water to effect repairs. There was only one suitable anchorage on the mainland; a narrow inlet which they had called Swan River, and on whose shores Atjuntja and Dutchmen had first shed each others’ blood.
Despite de Houtman’s misgivings, the Atjuntja did not attack them on sight. The immediate problem was preventing their interpreters from fleeing home. Once that was under control, they met a deputation from the Atjuntja governor, who reported that they would be permitted to anchor in the river, and would be provided with gifts of food and some timber to help them repair their vessel. De Houtman, who had by now gained some understanding of how Atjuntja society worked, responded with gifts of his own, including iron cooking utensils and tobacco to the families of the peasants and soldiers who had been killed in the last skirmish.
Repairs to Wesel took nearly two weeks. They could have been hurried, but de Houtman did not urge his sailors to make haste, since he decided that staying here would allow him to fulfill more of his instructions. Governor-General Coen had ordered his expedition to survey what vegetables, animals, fruits and other produce could be obtained in the South Land. While a few sailors worked on the Wesel, the rest were rotated through visits ashore, learning what they could of the region which they called d’Edels Land.
Thus, the sailors of de Houtman’s expedition were the first to learn much of what Aururia produced and how its inhabitants lived. They saw Archers Nest, another garrison-city, but built away from the coast in a reminder that the Atjuntja did not look to the sea. They saw the many fields of what the Atjuntja called wealth-trees, and asked what these trees could produce that was so valuable. The Atjuntja responded by giving their Dutch guests an ample supply of wattleseeds and wattle gum. De Houtman ordered that some of these seeds be brought back to Batavia, along with some of the ubiquitous yams, in case they would prove suitable to grow there [9].
The Atjuntja crops presented their Dutch visitors with a strange combination of the familiar and the exotic. Flax they knew; while the Atjuntja species differed in its appearance, it produced similar fibres and seeds. De Houtman also noted in his journal: “they grow a variety of indigo here, which produces a dye as fine as anything I have seen from India. Yet their indigo plant is more versatile, for by different preparations they may use the same leaves to produce either the true indigo colour, or a brilliant yellow, or a noteworthy green [10].”
Other Atjuntja crops simply left the Dutch perplexed. They recognised the timber of eucalypts as being extremely useful; those were the main source of the wood they used to repair the Wesel. Yet the smell of eucalypts was like nothing they had ever encountered before, and reminded them that this land was an exotic place. Likewise, the local dried fruits offered tastes unlike anything which the Dutch had known; after sampling dried quandong, de Houtman recorded in his journal that he wished that he had visited the South Land when these fruits were in season.
Still, no crops offered such a complete mix of the familiar and exotic as tobacco and related crops which the Atjuntja used. Tobacco was something with which every Dutch sailor was familiar. As, indeed, were most European sailors; they had been spreading tobacco around the world since their first contact with the Americas. The Atjuntja tobacco crops were distinctly different in their appearance, but could still be recognised as forms of tobacco [11].
Yet while the Atjuntja grew and used tobacco, they universally told the Dutch sailors that this tobacco was merely an inferior product. The drug of choice was kunduri. This time, de Houtman overrode the wishes of his interpreters and asked the Atjuntja governor what kunduri was and why it was so valuable. The governor replied that kunduri was what every Atjuntja man would use if he could, but that it was rare and came from beyond the sunrise. He had a reasonable quantity, but few of his soldiers or administrators were so fortunate.
In what was an extremely generous gesture, although de Houtman did not yet recognise it as such, the governor of Archers Nest sent for some of his personal supply of kunduri and offered a sample to de Houtman.
The appearance of the kunduri was unremarkable; dried leaves and plant stems which did not look much like tobacco. Still, following instructions, de Houtman mixed the kunduri with wood ash and chewed it. He described the resulting sensation in his journal: “I chewed this kunduri for several minutes, and a sensation of bliss and relaxation came over me. I no longer cared who was in the room, nor what they might say or do. The effect was akin to the euphoria I might feel after several glasses of good French wine [12].”
The Dutch sailors found the same mixture of familiar and exotic in the Atjuntja domestic animals. Dogs were familiar, except that the breeds which the Atjuntja had developed had no European equivalents. Ducks they knew, although again, the breeds were unfamiliar. Captain de Vries of the Assendelft recorded in his log that “they use ducks in as many numbers and varieties as Dutch farmers use chickens.” Quolls were an exotic animal, but the Dutch did their best to link them to more familiar forms; they referred to domesticated quolls as native pole-cats. To the Dutch, emus were the most exotic of the domesticated animas; oversized flightless birds with voracious appetites and booming calls which could be heard over a mile away. The captains’ journal entries indicated bemusement about whether the emus would be of any worth as poultry in Europe.
Before leaving Archers Nest, de Houtman recorded in his journal that he believed that this was the most promising site yet for a trading post, if the Atjuntja could be persuaded to permit one. He also recorded his frustration at convincing any natives to come voluntarily, and noted that he did not want word to spread ahead of his voyage that the Dutch were kidnappers. He noted that the time to kidnap natives would be at the last place they visited.
As the three ships sailed south of Archers Nest, their journal entries grew increasingly enthusiastic about the merits of d’Edels Land. The land was well-watered, the vegetation grew ever more luxuriant, with some towering forests visible along the shores.
The expedition continued its diligent work of charting, but for some time after visiting Archers Nest, de Houtman did not allow any extensive visits ashore. He had by now become obsessed with sailing to the Atjuntja capital. And while his peasant interpreters did not have a detailed understanding of the geography, they had reported that he needed to pass a major landmark called Sunset Point [Cape Leeuwin] and sail east along the “great storm road” to reach the White City.
As it happened, for all of his conscientiousness, de Houtman would never sight Sunset Point, although he believed until his dying day that he had done so. Sunset Point was one of the world’s three great capes [13], marking the merging of two oceans, but was also surrounded by several rocks and small islands which reached further into the ocean. De Houtman steered the Hasewint clear of those rocks, missing the cape itself, and brought his ships east in the strong winds of the Roaring Forties.
At every town which he visited along the southern coast, he had his interpreters ask if he had reached the White City. Three times, he visited a city or town and was disappointed when he received a negative answer.
On 26 July, the Hasewint sailed into a wide natural harbour, and then further into an inner harbour. De Houtman saw crowded docks, a towering row of statues behind them on the shore, and beyond that twin mountains with colossal edifices built into their sides, and he knew that he would not need to have his interpreters ask the question again.
* * *
[1] De Houtman’s expedition first touched land about halfway between the historical towns of Port Hedland and Karratha. The region which they call Wesel Land is semi-arid country covered in spinifex grass and scattered trees. It is too far close to the equator for Aururian crops to grow, and in any case the rainfall is so low that any farming would be extremely marginal.
[2] In historical Australia, the Dirk Hartog plate was rediscovered in 1697 by another Dutch captain, Willem de Vlamingh, who replaced it with another pewter plate of his own and took the original back to Amsterdam. The Hartog Plate is the oldest known European artefact associated with Australia.
[3] Those islands still bear that name in historical Australia; formally they are called the Houtman Abrolhos, which is usually shortened to Abrolhos.
[4] Red yams are harvested in late April-May, when the tubers are at their largest and the above-ground portions of the plant are starting to wither and die back in preparation for the coming winter.
[5] De Houtman had brought three captives back to Batavia, but only two had been sent back with him. The third was kept in Batavia to learn more Dutch, and as a safeguard in case something happened to de Houtman’s exploratory voyage.
[6] These lacquered products were mostly manufactured in China, but the trading networks saw them re-exported to the Coromandel Coast of India, and this became the common name for them.
[7] They would have been even more impressed by muskets, but de Houtman had prudently ordered his sailors not to fire muskets except at uttermost need, or describe their function. He wanted them to be a surprise if they were attacked. The Atjuntja had heard exaggerated tales from the south that these raw-skinned strangers could chain kuru and throw thunder balls, but did not recognise the muskets for what they were.
[8] The currents on the coast of Western Australia are quite complex; there is a major warm water current which moves south (the Leeuwin Current), but it is bracketed by cold-water currents which move north. This is one of the many features which make navigation along the Western Australian coast so troublesome.
[9] Red yams, at least, will not grow so close to the equator. Wattles are not quite as sensitive to latitude, but the Dutch will still have difficulty getting the main domesticated species to grow properly in a tropical climate.
[10] This plant is native indigo (Indigofera australis), a relative of true indigo (I. tinctoria). Native indigo is widespread across much of the continent, and in historical Australia it was used in early colonial times to dye wool.
[11] Native Australian species of tobacco have been used as narcotics for tens of millennia; the two main ones cultivated by the Atjuntja are Nicotiana glauca and N. rotundifolia (sometimes classified as N. suaveolens). They are similar to common tobacco in their cultivation, although the Atjuntja only chew tobacco (mixed with wood ash); they do not smoke it.
[12] This is de Houtman’s introduction to the drug known in historical Australia as pituri. John King, the only survivor of the Burke and Wills expedition of 1860-61, reported a similar reaction when he first experienced pituri. Kunduri is grown in parts of the Nyalananga [Murray] basin and exported to many parts of the continent; it reaches the Atjuntja via Islander trading ships. It does have a stronger effect than tobacco; the nicotine content of kunduri/ pituri is up to four times stronger than that of modern commercial tobacco. The drug also contains other alkaloids such as nor-nicotine, hyoscyamine and scopolamine, which add to its potency.
[13] The three great capes are three major landmarks in the Southern Ocean. Cape Horn in South America divides the Atlantic from the Pacific, the Cape of Good Hope in South Africa divides the Atlantic from the Indian Ocean, and Cape Leeuwin in south-western Australia divides the Indian Ocean from the Pacific.
* * *
Thoughts?
P.S. Are there any Dutch speakers who can advise on the likely Dutchified forms of Atjuntja names?
