‘So, why are you immigrating to the Great Southern Land, John?’ asked Mathew.
John smiled and shrugged. ‘I have just completed my degree in theology. It was expected I would take over the family business from my father.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘My father and his father were both parish ministers at St Mary’s in Kings Walden. I was next in line. I felt I needed to experience life outside the church before I settled into the ministry.’
‘Well, you couldn’t get more outside than Australia.’
‘No, I expect you are right. What about you, Mathew? What’s your motivation to immigrate to another land?’
‘I come from a wealthy family. My father is a peer. I’m the younger son, so my brother inherits the title and the estate. My parents gave me the choice; immigrate or become a pauper.’
‘Well, I can think of worse fates. My research tells me Australia is the land of opportunity.’
‘Yes, so I believe. I suppose time will tell.’
‘Would you care to join me for dinner?’
‘Yes, John, I would.’
The two men finished their drinks, and then entered the elegantly decorated dining room and were shown to a table for four by the headwaiter.
After they were settled, Mathew noticed another young man enter the room. He looked a little lost.
‘We should ask that chap if he cares to join us for dinner,’ he suggested.
‘Yes, by all means.’
John called the waiter over and instructed him to invite the young man to join them at their table.
He accepted their invitation.
‘Thank you so much; I was dreading eating alone. My name is George Griffith.’
John and Mathew introduced themselves.
‘Tell me, George, why are you sailing to the antipodes?’ asked John.
‘To make my fortune.’
John nodded and grinned at Mathew. ‘So are we all.’
The first-class passengers were always assured of fresh produce as the ship carried livestock on board. This comprised a hundred and twenty-six sheep, four lambs, thirty pigs, two bullocks and a cow. Besides these were five hundred and ten fowls, two hundred and eighty-six ducks, sixty-five geese, thirty-two turkeys, and six rabbits.
The dinner served to the three new friends included soup followed by a choice of pigeon or pork pies and a selection of various puddings, tarts and blancmange. A cheese platter was served with their coffee and port. Mathew had chosen a French Cabernet to accompany the meal. The three men all agreed the standard of dining aboard ship was excellent.
Some passengers complained of the constant animal noises emanating from down below, but they didn’t complain about the fresh produce served in the dining room.
The not so fortunate were the passengers below deck in steerage they had a small galley where they would prepare their meals with food usually reserved for farm animals back home.
Mathew, George and John became good friends over the following few weeks. They dined together and quite often joined each other for breakfast and lunch depending on what activities they were involved with during the day.
Mathew suggested to his two friends that they indulge themselves in some clay pigeon shooting from the stern of the ship. Shooting was an activity popular with both male and female first-class passengers.
‘Yes Mathew, I enjoy shooting particularly grouse and deer. However, a clay pigeon will have to do, I suppose,’ said George.
‘What about you John? Would you like to join us?’ asked Mathew.
‘Yes, why not? I wish I’d brought my shotgun with me. I prefer using my own gun.’
‘You can both use one of my Purdeys if you like.’
‘A Purdey, well now that’s what I call a gun.’
The hand-crafted Purdey shotgun equates to gun making excellence going back over two centuries. The founder, James Purdey the elder, was apprenticed as a gun maker in 1798. After joining master gunsmith Joseph Manton, he went on to forge a gun making dynasty that would surpass all others.
A Purdey ‘Best’ gun is a gun that cannot be bettered. No extra time or expense can bring further improvement. From the very first measurement, it is designed to perfection.
The weather was good, and the seas were calm; perfect for shooting clay pigeons.
The second officer oversaw the shoot and two of the seamen operated the traps for launching the targets.
The officer invited Mathew to be the first shooter. He called for the trap and the clay disk was hurled into the air. Mathew fired one barrel, missing the target. He called for the second and shot it out of the sky.
He passed his gun to George who missed both pigeons.
Finally, it was John the minister’s son turn to try his hand. He called for the first target, hitting it instantly. He called for the second and that clay pigeon met the same fate as the first.
‘Where did you learn to shoot like that?’ asked Mathew.
‘My father taught me.’
‘I thought your father was a Church of England minister?’
‘He is, that doesn’t mean he can’t shoot. He’s a keen hunter back home in Hertfordshire.’
‘Well, that’s amazing.’
Each shooter had ten attempts. At the conclusion of the competition, John had successfully shot seventeen targets. His closest competitor was Mathew with twelve, and George finished with ten.
After a week of sailing, the young men were looking for things to occupy their evenings.
Mathew enrolled in several lectures on Australia and also attended a lecture on Charles Darwin’s book The Origin of the Species. Mathew was intrigued with evolution and borrowed the book from the ship’s library.
George and John joined a poker group in the saloon lounge where a total of six gamblers played poker into the wee hours every night after dinner.
Forty
