We now made the best of our way for the Cape of Good Hope, but the seeds of disease which we had received at Batavia began to appear with the most threatening symptoms in dysenteries and slow fevers. Left the water which we had taken in at Prince’s Island should have had any share in our sickness, we purified it with lime, and we washed all parts of the ship between decks with vinegar, as a remedy against infection. Mr. Banks was among the sick, and for some time there was no hope of his life. We were very soon in a most deplorable situation; the ship was nothing better than an hospital, in which those that were able to go about, were too few to attend the sick, who were confined to their hammocks; and we had almost every night a dead body to commit to the sea. In the course of about six weeks, we buried Mr. Sporing, a gentleman who was in Mr. Banks’s retinue, Mr. Parkinson, his natural history painter, Mr. Green the astronomer, the boatswain, the carpenter and his mate, Mr. Monkhouse the midshipman, who had fothered the ship after she had been stranded on the coast of New Holland, our old jolly sail-maker and his assistant, the ship’s cook, the corporal of the marines, two of the carpenter’s crew, a midshipman, and nine seamen; in all three and twenty persons, besides the seven that we buried at Batavia.

Voyaging Accounts