A Complete Account of the Settlement at Port Jackson

In Short

This work serves as a primary historical record of the settlement at Port Jackson in New South Wales between 1788 and 1791. Written by a captain of the marines, it captures the daily life, extreme food shortages, and territorial explorations that defined the colony’s infancy. Through journals and descriptive observations, the text documents the difficult interactions between the newcomers and the Indigenous population, as well as the initial attempts at farming in an unforgiving landscape. It remains a foundational document for understanding the administrative and human realities of the early Australian penal experience.

The Story

The narrative begins with the author’s arrival as part of the initial fleet sent to establish a colony at Botany Bay. Quickly finding the site unsuitable, the settlers relocate to the more promising harbor of Port Jackson. The early chapters establish the tone of the enterprise: it is a precarious existence defined by isolation, a lack of resources, and a constant, gnawing hunger. The author documents the slow, often agonizing, development of the outpost as the settlers struggle to adapt to an unfamiliar environment.

As the settlement takes root, the focus shifts to the complex and often fraught relationship with the Indigenous people. The narrative describes the capture and subsequent befriending of individuals like Arabanoo, whose presence offers the British a limited window into the local culture and language. These encounters are depicted with a mix of genuine curiosity and the inherent biases of the colonial perspective. The author records moments of mutual assistance—such as when Indigenous people rescue shipwrecked sailors—alongside darker episodes of violence and misunderstanding, including the wounding of a convict and the governor’s stern, retaliatory impulses.

Parallel to these social tensions is the desperate struggle for physical survival. The author details the rationing system, which becomes increasingly meager as supplies brought from England wither. The description of the "moving" grain in the rice stores and the necessity of eating salt pork that has been stored for years illustrates the grim reality of life in the colony. The narrative tracks the efforts to find sustainable food sources, including fishing and the clearing of land at Rose Hill (later Parramatta).

The story reaches its middle and latter stages as the author participates in several expeditions inland. He describes the arduous treks through "trackless immeasurable" deserts and the eventual discovery of the Hawkesbury River. These excursions reflect the relentless curiosity of the officers, who seek to understand the geography of their new home, even as they realize that much of the surrounding land is barren and resistant to European cultivation.

By 1791, the narrative reflects a colony that has moved past its most immediate existential threat but remains under tight control. The author notes the arrival of new convicts, the rise of the first private settlers like James Ruse, and the persistent desire among many to escape, manifested in daring, often suicidal, attempts to seize boats and flee into the unknown. The text concludes not with a triumphant vision of success, but with a cautious, sober assessment of the colony’s status and a call for a serious, reasoned evaluation of whether such a costly enterprise should be sustained, abandoned, or reformed.

How It Unfolds

The arrival and relocation The settlers arrive at Botany Bay but quickly determine it is unfit for a permanent establishment. They transition to the superior harbor of Port Jackson to begin the arduous work of building a new society from nothing.

The struggle for survival The colony faces a severe crisis as food supplies from England dwindle and turn rancid. The author details the restrictive rationing and the communal labor required to fish and hunt in order to stave off starvation.

First encounters The narrative documents the complex, shifting interactions between the British and the local Indigenous population. The author highlights both the curiosity and the profound cultural misunderstandings that characterize these early, often tense, meetings.

Explorations of the interior The author and his colleagues venture into the unexplored hinterland to chart the geography. They discover the Hawkesbury River after days of traversing difficult, stony terrain that proves mostly unsuitable for farming.

The growth of the settlement The establishment at Rose Hill expands, and the author records the progress of convicts who have completed their sentences and begun farming their own plots. The narrative tracks these individual, humble efforts to create a stable, productive life in the colony.

Reflections and conclusion The book closes with the author’s final thoughts on the future of the settlement. He presents a sober look at the economic and ethical questions regarding the penal colony’s long-term viability.

The People

Governor Arthur Phillip stands as the central authority, tasked with the immense responsibility of managing a starving, isolated populace. He is depicted as a man who balances a desire for order and retaliation against Indigenous threats with a pragmatic, often flexible approach to the daily administration of the colony.

Arabanoo, an Indigenous man taken into the settlement, serves as a primary cultural bridge. Through his gradual adaptation—learning to eat bread and enjoy the company of animals—the author captures the humanity of the people they encountered, though the relationship remains colored by the power imbalance of his initial captivity.

James Ruse, a former convict turned farmer, represents the quiet hope of the colony. His detailed account of how he cleared his land, planted his wheat, and managed his limited resources provides a grounded, industrious counterpoint to the failures of government-run farming.

The author, Watkin Tench, acts as the observant, contemplative narrator. He is a soldier who performs his duties yet maintains a distance that allows him to critique the actions of his peers and the governor. He is constantly seeking to reconcile the harsh realities of his situation with the broader, often abstract, goals of the British government.

In Its Own Voice

The greatest part of the work is inevitably composed of those materials which a journal supplies; but wherever reflections could be introduced without fastidiousness and parade, he has not scrupled to indulge them, in common with every other deviation which the strictness of narrative would allow.

The author explains his methodology for constructing a history that is both factual and contemplative.

Before us lay the trackless immeasurable desert, in awful silence.

The author describes the profound sense of isolation and the daunting, alien landscape he and his fellow explorers encountered during their interior expeditions.

It had long been our wish to establish a commerce of this sort. It is a painful consideration, that every previous addition to the cabinet of the virtuosi, from this country, had wrung a tear from the plundered Indian.

Reflecting on the trade of tools for fish-gigs, the author acknowledges the exploitative nature of previous interactions between the settlers and the Indigenous people.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an inquiry into the cost of colonization. It asks whether a society built on the labor of the exiled can be sustained without resorting to systemic suffering. The author struggles with the tension between the "civilizing" mission of the British and the stark reality of the "wild, immeasurable desert" that resists their attempts at cultivation. Underlying the logistical reports is a deeper, often uncomfortable examination of power: how a group of people, far from the reach of traditional law and home, defines justice, responds to a foreign culture, and attempts to impose order on a land that neither wants nor recognizes their arrival.

Why Read It Today

This account is essential for readers who value the raw, unfiltered observations of someone living through a defining historical moment. Because the author was not writing for a modern audience, the prose is direct, observant, and occasionally startling in its period-specific attitudes, particularly regarding the treatment of Indigenous people and the rigid, often brutal, discipline of the penal system.

Readers who enjoy history that is grounded in the mundane—what people ate, how they built huts, and how they failed at farming—will find this deeply satisfying. It does not offer a polished, retrospective view; instead, it provides the immediate, often confused perspective of an individual trying to make sense of a difficult, evolving situation. The language is formal and 18th-century, which may require a moment of adjustment, but the clarity of the author’s voice shines through. You will be struck by the persistent, almost desperate, curiosity of the officers who document the environment even as they face starvation. It is a haunting, highly detailed portrait of endurance that remains a powerful, sometimes difficult, testament to a colonial enterprise at its most fragile and foundational.