Port Jackson is the fittest centre from which to take a survey of the settled and inhabitable districts in Australia, being not only the finest harbour and the port of the greatest Australian city, but the inlet and outlet for commerce, having settled on its shores the wealthiest and most dense population in the whole island.
The usual course to Sydney for sailing-vessels is through Bass's Straits; and in fair weather, with a favourable wind, ships frequently pass sufficiently near the shores to afford an agreeable but very tantalising view of the scenery.
"The shore is bold and picturesque, and the country behind, gradually rising higher and higher into swelling hills of moderate elevation, to the utmost distance the eye can reach, is covered with wide-branching, evergreen forest trees and close brushwood, exhibiting a prospect of never-failing foliage, although sadly monotonous and dull in tone compared with the luxuriant summer foliage of Europe. Grey rocks at intervals project among these endless forests, while here and there some gigantic tree, scorched dead by the summer fires, uplifts its blasted branches above the green saplings around."[1]
Approaching Port Jackson, the coast line consists of cliffs of a reddish hue. Where the land can be seen, shrubs and trees of strange foliage are found nourishing on a white, sandy, barren soil, destitute of herbage.
The entrance to the port is marked by the north and south heads, about three quarters of a mile apart. On the southern head a stone lighthouse, bearing the often-repeated name of Macquarie, affords a revolving flame at night and a white landmark by day to the great ships from distant quarters of the globe, and to the crowd of large- sailed coasters which ply between innumerable coast villages and Sydney.
Steering westerly, the great harbour, like a landlocked lake, pro- tected by the curving projecting heads from the roll of the Pacific storms, opens out until lost in the distance, where it joins the Paramatta River. The banks on either hand, varying from two to five miles in breadth, are sometimes steep and sometimes sloping, but repeatedly indented by coves and bays, which, fringed with green shrubs down to the white sandy water-margin, when bathed in golden sunlight, present dainty retreats as brilliant as Danby's Enchanted Island.
On one of the first and most romantic coves stands Yaucluse, the marine villa of William Wentworth.
- ↑ Cunningham.
