Thamanampalli Surekha

Bay, did not awaken us. In the morning therefore, when we got on deck, we enjoyed more satisfactorily, because it was fresh to the eye, the pleasing view of the surrounding country, and the throng of vessels lying at anchor in the bay. Although the formers presents a gratifying prospect to the gaze of the stranger, after three or four months monotonous study of sea and sky, still there is not much for the artist to sketch in the low sand-flats, thinly covered with stunted trees, in the immediate vicinity of the bay. On the eastern shore, a clearing upon some rising ground with a cottage or two visible through the telescope, is all we have for the village of St. Kilda, a watering-place in the environs of Melbourne. And directly across the bay, in a straight line with Melbourne on the map, are seen a number of small tenements on the beach, with wooden jetties run out for the convenience of landing. But although the city is not more than two miles from this beach, there is no part of it visible from the shipping except the telegraph-station for signalling the arrival of ships in harbour, for the information of the inhabitants. Looking north, you see the entrance to the yarra-yarra river, which flows through Melbourne; and as you can see up the stream for a mile or two, you may judge of the circuitous course of its channel to the city, nine miles distant. On the western shore, objects of a more defined character vary the landscape. Williamstown, with its stone-built houses, within a mile of the shipping, and the lighthouse on Gellibrand's Point, present substantial tokens of the industry of the colonists. But the most enlivening part of the scene was the bay itself, with its fleet of square-rigged vessels, from whence issued the usual cheering sounds of sailors loading and unloading cargo into the lighters alongside. Here, we were informed by the captain, our journey ended, as ships of our tonnage can approach no nearer to the capital town of the colony, in consequence of a rocky bar at the entrance to the river, steamboats and sailing vessels, however, of not more than 200 tons, can accomplish this safety, and reach the wharves right in the heart of the city. From our experience gleaned upon the occasion, we noted the following memoranda in our journal, which may prove useful to subsequent travellers and emigrants. That ships of large tonnage, such as make the voyage out from, England, and are advertised to sail for the part of Melbourne, proceed no further than Hobson Bay, situated, as the reader will have observed, at the northern extremity of Port Philip harbour, twenty-seven miles from its entrance in Bass's Strait. That such vessels are not moored alongside any wharf or dock, but lie at anchor in this bay within half a mile or a mile of Williamstown, the nearest point of landing. That there are two ways of proceeding to Melbourne: one by steamboat up the river, nine miles; the other by taking a ferry-boat across the bay, and walking from the beach overland, two miles. And that, upon passengers disembarking, they have to pay for the hire of boats or lighters, to convey themselves and their luggage or merchandise on shore; for this purpose there are abundance of boats plying between the shipping and the beach, under control of the local authorities, who fix the rate of fares to be charged, a copy of which every boatman is bound to produce when called on by a passenger. Steamboats ply between Williamstown and Melbourne every two hours or so, the Geelong boats being the most comfortable. The preliminary expenses attending the disembarkation of passengers at this most inconvenient port come very heavy upon their purses in the present altered state of the labour, market. We would advise gentlemen and families, therefore, not to hamper themselves with much bulky luggage, furniture, or merchandise. As the day advanced, we were boarded by the port officer and other officials, who went through their business in an off'-hand manner that was quite delightful, compared to the fusty old routine of the port of London. These gentlemen confirmed every thing we had heard of the recent discovery; and our vessel was soon afterwards besieged by the townspeople, on the look-out for servants and mechanics. In their conversations with our' tween-deck and steerage passengers, they dwelt less eloquently upon the abundance of this new product, and several earnestly dissuaded them, with great truth, not to attempt proceeding to the gold mines without some colonial experience. They represented the gold-seeker's life as surrounded with no common hardships, that it was only fit for the old "bushmen" of the colony, who were inured to the life. It was worse than working from morn to might at the hardest roadside drudgery in England; and the man unaccustomed to hard labour would sink under it. Besides, it was more or less a lottery; for although many had been fortune in collecting large quantities, yet the majority of the diggers made little more than an ordinary living, after the expense of provisions, which were dear at the mines, had been taken into account. No one, however, was inclined to engage until they get to Melbourne, and ascertained the state of affairs, so there was a general move on shore soon after breakfast by the majority of the passengers. Engaging a boat, we threaded our way through the shipping toward Williamstown. As we passed many of the vessels with their yards apeak, they seemed to be deserted, which we were told was actually the case; in one or two instances, the captains had followed their men to the diggings. We landed at Williamstown upon a rough stone jetty, more substantial than elegant. Upon arrival, new-comers are pleased with the aspect of this