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CHAPTER I.
1. To the people who lived four centuries ago
in Europe only a very small portion of the earth’s surface was known. Their
geography was confined to the regions lying immediately around the
Mediterranean, and including Europe, the north of Africa, and the west of Asia.
Round these there was a margin, obscurely and imperfectly described in the
reports of merchants; but by far the greater part of the world was utterly
unknown. Great realms of darkness stretched all beyond, and closely hemmed in
the little circle of light. In these unknown lands our ancestors loved to
picture everything that was strange and mysterious. They believed that the man
who could penetrate far enough would find countries where inexhaustible riches
were to be gathered without toil from fertile shores, or marvellous valleys;
and though wild tales were told of the dangers supposed to fill these regions,
yet to the more daring and adventurous these only made the visions of boundless
wealth and enchanting loveliness seem more fascinating.
Thus, as the art of navigation improved, and
long voyages became possible, courageous seamen were tempted to venture out
into the great unknown expanse. Columbus carried his trembling sailors over
great tracts of unknown ocean, and discovered the two continents of America;
Vasco di Gama penetrated far to the south, and rounded the Cape of Good Hope;
Magellan, passing through the straits now called by his name, was the first to
enter the Pacific Ocean; and so in the case of a hundred others, courage and
skill carried the hardy seaman over many seas and into many lands that had lain
unknown for ages.
Australia was the last part of the world to
be thus visited and explored. In the year 1600, during the times of
Shakespeare, the region to the south of the East Indies was still as little
known as ever; the rude maps of those days had only a great blank where the
islands of Australia should have been. Most people thought there was nothing
but the ocean in that part of the world; and as the voyage was dangerous and
very long—requiring several years for its completion—scarcely any one cared to
run the risk of exploring it.
2. De Quiros (The voyages of Pedro Fernandez de Quiros, 1595-1606 ). —There was, however, an enthusiastic seaman who firmly believed that a great continent existed there, and who longed to go in search of it. This was De Quiros, a Spaniard, who had already sailed with a famous voyager, and now desired to set out on an expedition of his own.
Pedro Fernandez de Quiros was
born at Evora, in Portugal, in 1565, the year before Mendaña sailed on his first voyage. The ill-fated Don
Sebastian was then King of Portugal. His uncle, the Cardinal Henry, became King
in 1578; but in 1580 Philip II, the Cardinal’s nephew, succeeded as King of
Portugal, as well as of Spain. Quiros, though a
Portuguese, then became a subject of the King of Spain, his age being fifteen.
We are told, though an enemy is our informant, that young Quiros was brought up in the “Rua nova”, then a disreputable
part of Lisbon, and that he was a clerk or supercargo in merchant ships. This
may or may not be true. He certainly became a good sailor, and an accomplished
pilot.
In 1589, when he had reached his twenty-fourth year, he
had probably been several years at sea. He then married Doña Ana Chacon, of
Madrid, daughter of the licentiate Juan Quevedo de
Miranda, by Ana Chacon de Miranda. She was a year his senior. A son, named
Francisco, was born to them in 1590, and they must then have gone to Peru; for
their daughter Jeronima was born some months after Quiros sailed from Peru with Mendaña in 1595.
Quiros was thirty
years of age when he accepted the post of Chief Pilot in the ship of Alvaro de Mendaña, who had received a concession to colonise the Solomon Islands, which he had discovered
thirty years before. Quiros joined this expedition
with some misgivings, caused by the quarrelsome character of the Camp Master,
the want of order and discipline, and the position assumed by the Commander’s
wife and her brothers. Mendaña was more than twenty
years older than Quiros. The Pilot’s position was one
of some difficulty: for while on one side he had to exercise tact in his
intercourse with the family clique, on the other he found it difficult to avoid
friction with a most impracticable and quarrelsome old soldier who was Camp
Master, and who had a feud with the brothers-in-law of Mendaña,
which continued to increase in bitterness. The expedition culminated at the
island of Santa Cruz, a new discovery, with the slaughter of the old Camp
Master, the deaths of Mendaña and his brother-in-law
Don Lorenzo, the succession of the widow, Doña Isabel, to the command of the
expedition, and the disastrous voyage to Manilla.
Through all this intrigue and violence the Chief Pilot
steered his course with prudence and caution. He was a reliable seaman, and was
constantly consulted. He appears, from his own account, to have been a
peacemaker, to have avoided quarrels, and to have had some influence. He was,
however, a great talker. The widow did not like him, but she was obliged to
rely upon him entirely. Her brothers were useless. Quiros stood between the widow’s selfish parsimony and a crew on the verge of mutiny
from misery and starvation. He brought a sinking ship, with rotten spars and
rigging, safely over an unknown sea from Santa Cruz to Manilla.
It was during this voyage, and while gaining experience
in the navigation of the Pacific Ocean and the treatment of natives, that Quiros conceived his grand project. He was a cartographer,
and, in studying existing maps, he saw a great Southern continent extending
across the ocean, from the Strait of Magellan to New Guinea. He thought that
here was a discovery as famous as had been made by Columbus or Da Gama. He
thought that here was not only a great continent extending to the South Pole to
be added to the dominions of his sovereign, but millions of souls to be saved
and brought within the fold of the Church. He devoted his life to the
realisation of this glorious dream with unswerving devotion, never turning
aside to the right hand or to the left; undaunted by difficulties or wearisome
delays to his dying day; literally killed by Councils and Committees; but
succumbing only with his last breath. He became a man with one idea. Alas! he
was but a dreamer.
It was a dream. The heroic days of Spain and Portugal were
passed and gone. Quiros was the last of the long and
glorious roll of great Spanish navigators. He spoke, if not to stone-deaf ears,
to fast-deafening ears. The Viceroy Don Luis de Velasco, at Lima, to whom Quiros first explained his project, would take no responsibility, and referred him to
the Court of Spain and its Councils of State and of the Indies. It was a happy
inspiration which led Quiros to go first to Rome, and
interest the Pope in the conversion of millions of Antarctic souls; for nothing
was more likely to induce the Spanish Government to move in the matter than a
strong recommendation, which would be looked upon almost as a command, from the
Supreme Pontiff. Quiros was himself a very religious
man, deeply imbued with the superstitions of his time and nation.
When Quiros arrived at Rome,
the Duke of Sesa, a descendant of the Great Captain,
was Spanish Ambassador. The Pope was a scion of the noble Roman family of Aldobrandini, and had succeeded, as Clement VIII, in 1592.
The Duke of Sesa received Quiros well on his arrival at Rome, made him a member of
his household, and was so much interested in his project that he assembled all
the most eminent astronomers and geographers in the Eternal City to examine and
report to him upon it. Among these experts there was a mathematician of the
first rank. Christopher Clavio was born at Bamberg in
1537, and taught mathematics at Rome for twenty years. He corrected the
calendar for Gregory XIII, and published his Calendarii Romani Gregoriani Explicatio in 1603. He had previously been the author of a work entitled Gnomonices, and of an edition of Euclid. The
other advisers of the Duke were Dr. Mesa and Dr. Toribio Perez, who had been Professors of Geography at Salamanca, and a learned Jesuit
named Villalpando.
The authority of Clavio cannot
be gainsaid. He found Quiros to be an accomplished
Pilot and cartographer, and the inventor or improver of two nautical
instruments. The Duke of Sesa was satisfied by Clavio and the other experts of the capacity of Quiros as a navigator, and of the importance of his
project. He, therefore, introduced him to the Pope, and both Clement VIII and
the Duke gave him letters of recommendation to the Spanish Government.
Philip III had succeeded his father in 1598 as King of
Spain and Portugal. He found the country utterly ruined, and commerce nearly
dead. Yet he continued the same fatal policy. He confided the management of
affairs to the Duke of Lerma, a man well known to
readers of Gil Blas, and the extravagance of the Court helped to lead
Spain downwards on the road to decadence and ruin.
Quiros arrived at
Madrid with his credentials in the spring of 1602, and had interviews with
Philip III, and with his Minister, the Duke of Lerma.
The Pope’s influence secured his success. Within a year he had obtained a royal
order, through the Council of State, addressed to the Viceroy of Peru,
instructing that dignitary to fit out two ships at Callao, to enable Quiros to undertake an expedition for the discovery of the
Antarctic continent.
Quiros sailed for Peru in the summer of 1603. He seems to have left his family in Spain. He was shipwrecked near the Island of Curaçoa, in the West Indies, and had to pass some time at Caraccas. Here he found the orphan children of a brother, of whom he had not heard for many years, living with their maternal grandfather: two boys and a girl. He thought it right to take the two nephews with him, leaving the niece with her grandfather. One of the nephews is not heard of again. The other, Lucas de Quiros, was his uncle’s companion in the voyage of 1606. He was Royal Ensign for the ceremonies at Espiritu Santo. He is afterwards heard of as a rising cartographer at Lima. Quiros arrived at
Lima quite destitute, owing to the refusal of the royal officials on the route
to give him any pecuniary assistance, although they had positive orders to do
so. He found shelter in the house of a potter; and it was some days before he
could get an audience of the Count of Monterey, who was then Viceroy of Peru.
Eventually, the Viceroy recognised the necessity for
carrying out the royal orders. Vessels were tardily bought and fitted out at
Callao, for the expedition of Quiros, in the last
months of 1605. There were two ships and a zabra or launch. The ship chosen for Quiros was called the Capitana, and named San Pedro y San Pablo.
She was 150 tons. The other ship was called the Almiranta,
and named the San Pedro, 120 tons. Her Captain was known as the Admiral,
the title of a second in command in those days. Both ships were built on the
west coast, probably at Guayaquil. They carried one hundred and thirty men and
six friars. The launch was named Los Tres Reyes.
Luis Vaez de Torres, the
Admiral or second in command under Quiros, was a good
sailor and pilot, an energetic and capable leader, and loyal to his chief. He
commanded all the landing parties, and relieved Quiros of much anxiety and trouble. His Chief Pilot in the Almiranta,
Juan Bernardo de Fuentidueña, and Pedro Bernal de Cermeño, in command of the launch, were loyal and capable
men. The junior Pilot in the Capitana, Gaspar
Gonzalez de Leza, afterwards Chief Pilot, was also a
reliable officer. Quiros had a cousin with him, one
Alonso Alvarez de Castro, as well as a nephew, Lucas de Quiros.
But his most faithful and devoted friend was young Luis de Belmonte Bermudez.
Born at Seville in about 1585, this youth had gone out to seek his fortune,
first in Mexico and then at Lima. Fired by the stories told him of the Araucanian war in distant Chile, he composed a panegyric on
the youthful deeds of the Marquis of Cañete, the
first product of his muse. When Quiros was fitting
out his expedition, Belmonte Bermudez accepted the post of Secretary, taking
with him the “Araucana,” that noble epic of the
soldier-poet, Alonso de Ercilla.
But Quiros also had in his ship
men of a very different stamp. Among them was a Chief Pilot named Juan Ochoa de Bilboa, who had been forced upon him as a protégé of
the Viceroy;another officer named Diego de Prado y
Tovar; and the accountant, Juan de Iturbe. They
stirred up mutiny and disaffection on board.
Quiros complained
bitterly of the delay in fitting out the expedition, which obliged him to sail
so late in the year. He considered that he should have sailed not later than
St. Francis, or the 4th of October. He did not obtain his despatch until the 21st of December.
Quiros was now
free to attempt the realisation of his dream, the discovery of the Antarctic
continent and the annexation of the South Pole. All was left to his discretion.
There is no reason for the belief that the Viceroy of Peru gave any instructions
beyond the letter of farewell which was read to the men. The plan of Quiros was to steer W.S.W. from Callao until he
reached latitude 30° S., where he fully expected that he would have reached the
continental southern land shown on the maps of his time. He continued on this
course from December 21st to January 26th, when he found himself in 26° S.
Then Quiros came to the fatal
decision to alter course to W.S.W. He says in his narrative that there was a
heavy swell, and that he was obliged by the force of the wind and the sea to
alter his course. He adds, in one of his memorials, that winter was
approaching, that there was a mutinous spirit among his crew, and that he was
ill in bed. Torres remonstrated. He wrote: “I gave a declaration under my hand
that it was not a thing obvious that we ought to diminish our latitude till we
got beyond 30° S.” If Quiros had continued on his
course, he would have discovered New Zealand, and his dream would have been
partly realised.
Having turned away from the goal, his plan was to make
for the island of Santa Cruz, discovered when he served as Chief Pilot under Mendaña, and thence to make another attempt southward. But
this was a lame conclusion. His chance was gone. Antarctic discovery was left
to another nation and another century.
The latitudes recorded by Quiros, Torres, and Leza, and the courses and distances run, enable us to identify the islands discovered by Quiros in crossing the Pacific. The first inhabited island, reached on February 1st, 1606, has been supposed by Burney and others to be Tahiti. It is in the latitude of Tahiti; but it is described as a low island with a large lagoon in the centre, and no fresh water. This could not by any possibility be Tahiti. Sir William Wharton has identified it as Anaa, or Chain Island, one of the Low Archipelago to the eastward of Tahiti. Quiros named it “Conversion de San Pablo,” not “Sagittaria,” as Burney supposed. With Anaa as a point of departure, the other islands discovered by Quiros are easily identified. In following the parallel of 10° 20′ S. to reach Santa Cruz, Quiros fortunately came upon Taumaco, the principal island
of what is now called the Duff group. Here he found a native Chief, from whom
he received such detailed information respecting the existence of islands, and,
as was understood, even continental lands to the southward, that the most
sanguine hopes appeared to be approaching realisation. The project of going to
Santa Cruz was abandoned, and Quiros steered S.,
fully anticipating the consummation of his dreams of discovery. Nor was he
destined to be altogether disappointed. Island after island, all lofty and
thickly inhabited, rose above the horizon; and at last he sighted such
extensive coast lines that he believed the Southern Continent to be spread out
before him. The islands of the New Hebrides group, such as Aurora, Leper, and
Pentecost, overlapping each other to the S.E., seemed to him to be continuous coast
lines, while to the S.W. was the land which he named Austrialia del Espiritu Santo. All appeared to his vivid imagination to be one continuous
continental land.
Such was the enthusiastic navigator’s belief when his
vessels anchored in the port of Vera Cruz, at the southern extreme of the great
bay of St. Philip and St. James. He had found the largest island of what
Captain Cook named the New Hebrides group, yet not a very large island. He
showed his belief by his grandiose proceedings. To us they must now appear very
pathetic. There was a ceremony of taking possession, in the names of the
Church, of the Pope, and of the King. Quiros took
possession of “all this region of the south as far as the Pole, which from this
time shall be called Austrialia del Espiritu Santo,
with all its dependencies for ever and so long as
right exists,” in the name of King Philip III. A great city was to be founded
and named the New Jerusalem, and its river was to be the Jordan. All the
municipal and royal officers were nominated, and a knightly order of “Espiritu
Santo” was instituted, subject to confirmation by the King. There were
processions, religious dances, high masses and fireworks.
The great navigator had two serious drawbacks in his
rejoicing. He was disabled by a serious illness; and the natives, owing to the
misconduct of the Spaniards, were persistently hostile. After being at anchor
in this port of Vera Cruz for thirty-five days (from the 3rd of May to the 8th
of June, 1606), the little fleet sailed, with the object of completing the
discovery of the Southern Continent. Then came the catastrophe.
It came on to blow hard from the S.E., with a nasty sea;
and it was resolved to return to the anchorage. Late at night Torres brought
the Almiranta to anchor, and the launch was
also safely brought to. Quiros was too ill to come on
deck, the Pilots seem to have lost their heads, were confused between the
lights of the other ships and these on shore, and eventually stood out, running
before the wind. At dawn they were several leagues to leeward, outside the bay.
From the 12th to the 18th they were trying to beat up to the bay, but with
topmasts struck it was nearly all leeway. Ships built in Peru would not work to
windward: Quiros was in despair. At last, he
determined to make for Santa Cruz, which was a rendezvous in the Instructions.
But when the latitude of Santa Cruz was reached, there was a consultation. It
was resolved to cross the Line, and make for Acapulco: a four months’ voyage. Quiros bewailed his position. He had enemies on board. He
does not mention any actual mutiny, though his enemy, Prado y Tovar, who must
have got his information from the men who remained at Mexico, and perhaps
afterwards found their way to the Philippines, makes the assertion.
Quiros consoled
himself with the reflection that his return would at least enable him to make
known his discoveries, and to urge upon the King and his Councils the
importance of completing them. He also felt confidence in Torres, his second in
command, who was left behind on board the Almiranta,
and in his Pilot, Fuentidueña; and with good reason.
They were resolute and capable seamen. Quiros hoped
that they would continue his discoveries; and he rejoiced when, some years
afterwards, he received the news of the successful voyage of Torres.
After waiting for some days for the Capitana,
Torres continued the voyage by rounding the northern end of Espiritu Santo, and
steering a course to the S.W., until he reached a latitude of 21° S. He then
altered course to the N., and discovered the bay and islands at the east end of
New Guinea. In 1613 Diego de Prado y Tovar sent home four maps from Goa, which
throw considerable light on the course of Torres’s ship. The first map is a
very interesting one of the bay of St. Philip and St. James, in Espiritu Santo.
The next is a map of a land named “Buenaventura,” with many islands. Torres
arrived at this land on July 18th, having sailed from the bay of St. Philip and
St. James on the 26th of June. “Buenaventura” is Basilisk Island, so named by
Captain Moresby, after his ship, in 1873. The bay of San Millan,
accurately delineated by Torres, is Jenkins Bay of Moresby. The port of Santo Toribio of Torres is the China Strait of Moresby.
The third map shows the great bay of San Lorenzo, and the
port of Monterey, identified with “l’Orangerie” and
“Ile Dufaure” of Bougainville (1768), on the S. coast
of New Guinea. The names of Saints given to the bays, capes, and islands, throw
light on the dates, for it was usual to give to a cape, bay, or island the name
of the Saint on whose day it was discovered. The feast of San Lorenzo is on the
10th of August, the date when Torres arrived in the bay, where he appears to
have remained for several days. The fourth map is of the bay of San Pedro de Arlanza, whose feast is on the 18th of October. This bay is
identified with the Triton Bay of the Dutch. The four maps have been reproduced
for this volume, and the legends on the original large-scale maps are given
separately. From Triton Bay, Torres proceeded to
Ternate, where he left the launch, and thence continued his course to Manilla. His letters to Quiros and to the King from that place are dated June and July, 1607. From the fact
that Diego de Prado y Tovar sent the four maps home in December, 1613, it is
supposed that Torres had died in the interval. The letter of Torres was first
printed in Burney’s Voyages, from a copy obtained and translated by Dalrymple, who suggested the name of Torres Strait for the
principal discovery of that navigator. The Spanish Government jealously
concealed the knowledge acquired by their great explorers, and left their noble
deeds in oblivion. It was left to Englishmen to immortalise the names of Quiros and Torres, whose achievements
were so long forgotten by their own countrymen.
The actual results of the voyages of Quiros and Torres were the discovery of thirteen coral islands in the Pacific, of the
Duff and Banks groups, of the New Hebrides, of the eastern end and southern
coast of New Guinea, and of Torres Strait, with its innumerable islands: not a
barren record.
Quiros came to
Madrid to urge the Spanish Government to give him command of another expedition
for the completion of his discoveries. He had before him a dreary seven years
of memorialising Councils, of obstruction and delays.
It wore him out; but he was led to believe that he had succeeded. A timely
death saved him from the anguish of finding that he had been deceived. He was
worried into his grave by Councils and Committees. But before he died he
believed that he had at length overcome the obstruction, and his last hours
were cheered by the hope of final success.
We gather the character of Quiros from his narratives. He was a man of a humane and generous disposition, averse
to violence and bloodshed. He was a zealous Catholic, striving to maintain
religious feelings and to enforce morality among his people. Brave and resolute
himself, full of zeal and enthusiasm, he failed in the management of men. He
was often weak and vacillating, and had not the force of will necessary to
control the turbulent and to cheer the half-hearted. The Chief Pilot, Juan
Ochoa de Bilboa, during the voyage, caused a mutinous
feeling on board the Capitana, persuading the
crew to go straight to Manilla. Quiros merely sent this Chief Pilot on board the Almiranta under arrest. Torres strongly importuned his chief to punish such
insubordination, but he would not. It was the same with another mutinous
officer, Diego de Prado y Tobar. He was merely sent
on board the Almiranta. To this weakness
Torres attributes the slackness and want of zeal, if not something worse, when
the Capitana parted company. Juan de Iturbe, the Accountant, in his letter now in the Biblioteca Nacional (J. 2), merely says that the Chief Pilot went over to the ship of Torres
because he was disgusted with Quiros. We have the
evidence of Torres himself that this was not the reason. Iturbe was another disaffected officer, and disloyal to his chief. There was not a
single instance of capital punishment during the expedition, and not a single
death, with the exception of the Father Commissary, who died of old age. Quiros was a thorough seaman, and the best Pilot of his
time. He was not a self-seeker, but was devoted to a great idea, and
persistently strove to realise it with unswerving
resolution, until death ended his career.
Quiros was very
unlike his countryman Magellan. He rather reminds us of the great Genoese. Like
Columbus, he was a visionary, full of dreams and religious aspirations. Like
Columbus, he was devoted to one idea, which he followed with unchanging
fidelity to the day of his death. Like Columbus, he was gentle in dealing with
those who opposed him, and often weak. One dream of Quiros was that in his Southern Continent there should be justice to the converted
natives, and that the evil deeds perpetrated in Mexico and Peru should not be
repeated.
It only remains to record the story of the Quiros Memorials, when we shall see the navigator,
prematurely old, striving for the means of renewing his efforts: struggling
against Councils and Committees while life lasted.
Quiros landed at
Acapulco, was very coldly received by the officials at Mexico, and reached
Madrid on the 9th of October, 1607. He was quite destitute. He only had two maravedis, which he gave to a beggar. But his faithful
young Secretary remained true to him. During the first eleven days, he had not
money to buy ink or paper. He wrote his first Memorial on the flyleaves of a
pamphlet. He got the money for printing it by selling his clothes. To print the
second, he sold his bedding; for the third, he pawned the royal banner under
which he had taken possession of Espiritu Santo. After seventeen months of
extreme penury, the King granted him 500 ducats.
3. Torres.—The other ships waited for a day or two, but
no signs being seen of their consort, they proceeded in search of it. In this
voyage Torres sailed round the land, thus showing that it was no continent, but
only an island. Having satisfied himself that it was useless to seek for De
Quiros, he turned to the west, hoping to reach the Philippine Islands, where
the Spaniards had a colony, at Manila. It was his singular fortune to sail
through that opening which lies between New Guinea and Australia, to which the
name of “Torres Strait” was long afterwards applied. He probably saw Cape York
rising out of the sea to the south, but thought it only another of those
endless little islands with which the strait is studded. Poor De Quiros spent
the rest of his life in petitioning the King of Spain for ships to make a fresh
attempt. After many years he obtained another order to the Governor of Peru,
and the old weather-beaten mariner once more set out from Spain full of hope; but
at Panama, on his way, death awaited him, and there the fiery-souled veteran
passed away, the last of the great Spanish navigators. He died in poverty and
disappointment, but he is to be honoured as the first of the long line of
Australian discoverers. In after years, the name he had invented was divided
into two parts; the island he had really discovered being called Espiritu
Santo, while the continent he thought he had discovered was called Terra
Australis. This last name was shortened by another discoverer—Flinders—to the
present term Australia.
4. The Duyfhen.—De Quiros and Torres were Spaniards, but the
Dutch also displayed much anxiety to reach the great South Continent. From
their colony at Java they sent out a small vessel, the Duyfhen, or Dove,
which sailed into the Gulf of Carpentaria, and passed half-way down along its
eastern side. Some sailors landed, but so many of them were killed by the
natives that the captain was glad to embark again and sail for home, after
calling the place of their disaster Cape Keer-weer, or Turnagain. These Dutch
sailors were the first Europeans, as far as can now be known, who landed on
Australian soil; but as they never published any account of their voyage, it is
only by the merest chance that we know anything of it.
5. Other Dutch Discoverers.—During the next twenty years various Dutch
vessels, while sailing to the settlements in the East Indies, met with the
coast of Australia. In 1616 Dirk Hartog landed on the island in Shark Bay which
is now called after him. Two years later Captain Zaachen is said to have sailed
along the north coast, which he called Arnhem Land. Next year (1619) another
captain, called Edel, surveyed the western shores, which for a long time bore
his name. In 1622 a Dutch ship, the Leeuwin, or Lioness, sailed
along the southern coast, and its name was given to the south-west cape of
Australia. In 1627 Peter Nuyts entered the Great Australian Bight, and made a
rough chart of some of its shores; in 1628 General Carpenter sailed completely
round the large gulf to the north, which has taken its name from this
circumstance. Thus, by degrees, all the northern and western, together with
part of the southern shores, came to be roughly explored, and the Dutch even
had some idea of colonising this continent.
6. Tasman. Abel Janszoon Tasman: His Life and Voyages
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