To adorn the new stadthouse of Amsterdam, erected in 1665, three hemispheres were wrought in stone, of twenty-two feet in diameter: the circles were inlaid with brass, and were executed by a celebrated artist. The southern hemisphere exhibited the discoveries of Tasman and his predecessors: they formed the pavement of the hall, until obliterated by the tread of several generations. They were quite forgotten when Sir Joseph Banks sought information from the inhabitants. A copy of these works of art was preserved, and displayed the extent to which New Holland and Van Diemen's Land were known.
The journal of Tasman has been greatly admired: it is clear, laconic, and devout.[1] It opens with an invocation: "May God Almighty be pleased to give his blessing to this voyage. Amen." The document is, indeed, full of pious sentiments: when a long desired breeze liberated the vessel from port, or refreshment was obtained, or safe anchorage found, he dots down a thanksgiving. He reckoned his longitude from the Peak of Teneriffe: the hours he called glasses; his miles were German, fifteen to a degree.
On the 14th of August, 1642, Tasman embarked at Batavia, on board the _Heemskirk_, the fly-boat _Zeehaan_, Jerit Zanzoon, master, in company. They set sail for the Mauritius, and arrived on the 5th of September. That island, then commanded by Van Steelan, was but little cultivated, and gave slight promise of its present importance.[2] On the 4th October, they were ready to depart, but were delayed by contrary winds until the 8th, when on a change in their favor they stood eastward to sea. On the 27th, a council being called, it was resolved that a man should constantly look out at the topmast head; and to encourage vigilance it was determined, that the first discoverer of land should receive three reals and a pot of arrack. On the 4th November they saw patches of duckweed and a seal, and inferred their vicinity to land. The first pilot, Francis Jacobzs, on the 7th, supported by the advice of the steersman, thus delivered his opinion:--"We should keep to the 44° south latitude, until we have passed 150° longitude; then make for latitude 40° south, and keeping in that parallel to run eastward to 220° longitude, and then steering northward search with the trade wind from east to west for the Solomon Islands. We imagine, if we meet with no main land till we come to 150° longitude, we must then meet with islands." On the 17th, they were in latitude 44° 15' and longitude 147° 3': they concluded that they had already passed the south land then known. On the 22nd they found their compass was not still within eight points, which they attributed to the influence of loadstone, and which kept the needle in continual motion. On the 24th, at noon, they found their latitude 42° 25' south, longitude 163° 31': in the afternoon, at 4 o'clock, they observed land, Point Hibbs, bearing east by north. The land was high, and towards evening they saw lofty mountains to the east south-east, and to the north-east two smaller mountains: here their compass stood right. They resolved to run off five hours to sea, and then to run back towards the land. On the 25th, the morning was calm, and at 5 o'clock they were within three miles of the shore, and had soundings at sixty fathoms. They approached a level coast, and reckoned their latitude 42° 30', and middle longitude 163° 50'. On this day they named their discovery: "we called it Anthony Van Diemen's Land, in honor of our high magistrate and governor-general, and the islands near (Boreels) we named in honor of the council of India, as you may see by the little map we made." Next day they lost sight of land. They fixed the longitude 163° 50', and gave orders to the master of the _Zeehaan_ to adopt that reckoning. On the 28th land reappeared, and in the evening they came near three small islands, one of which they thought like the head of a lion (Mewstone, of Furneaux). On the following morning they passed two cliffs, one (the Swilly, of Furneaux) like the Pedra Branca, near the coast of China; the other, the eastern cliff, resembling a high misshapen tower (the Eddystone, of Cook). Between the cliff and the main land they passed, until they came almost to Storm Bay, where they found it impossible to anchor, and were driven by the wind to sea--so far, that land could scarcely be sighted in the morning. In the afternoon of the 1st December, they anchored in a good port (marked Frederick Hendrik Bay in the chart), with twenty-two fathoms water, and bottom of fine light grey sand.