 Ports of Call. Blue horizons far at the world's end, strange fascinating lands back in us. Bid us rebel in their exotic splendors. Come with us as we head for Ports of Call. As we rise and fall on the bosom of the Pacific, feeling the trade winds soft caress, convoyed by the ghostly memories of old clipperships that blazed the trail we now follow, part of the coastline of Australia, the last discovered continent lies before us. Nestling beneath mountains that rise majestically in the distance, like blue-clad sentinels of nature, barring the way to the vast beyond. Vasking in the bright sunlight, Sydney, mother city of Australia, like a jewel set in a sapphire sea beckons us from the cool, refreshing waters of Fort Jackson. No smoky, grimy port is this, but rippling silk that holds the hues of heaven. We go past sandy beaches until, beyond the harbor, we see the richly colored sandstone buildings of Sydney rising gracefully against the cloudless sky. And from the terraces of the Botanic Gardens, the incense of magnolia blooms made faint by distance pervades the air as we come to rest in Sydney Harbor, Fort Jackson. It was in 1768 when that intrepid explorer, Captain Cook, having visited New Zealand, turned the rounded bowels of the endeavor toward uncharted waters, and anchoring in an unknown bay headed the first civilized party to land and plant a flag on the east coast of Australia. Lay to it, my lads. I want to come within hailing distance of those natives on shore. Is there any danger of those blacks using canoes to cut us off from the ship, Captain Cook? I don't think so, Mr. Banks. I doubt me if they've ever heard a gunfire. I warranted to stop them quickly if they tried any such tactics. What are you gazing so intently at, Isaac? Those fish down there, sir. The bay seems to be teeming with them. There's quite a number of stingrays among them. That's a good name for this place, Stingray Bay. What do you think of the land, Mr. Peckersgill? It's a fertile place, sir. Well, would it? Must be well-borted, too. That'll do, men. Rest on your oars. I'm going to hail those natives before we get too close. Better watch those thawings, please, sir. I think we're still out of range. Hold a bow on shore, Mr. and be ready to backwater if necessary. Aye, aye, sir. Ahoy, men! Ahoy! That's my soul. Well, look at them scatter. They're all making for the trees. Not all. Two of them seem to have more courage than the rest. They're coming down to challenge our landing. Must be used to close fighting, sir. They're carrying swords as well as spears. I wouldn't trust them, Captain. They look threatening. Send the bow over their heads, Mr. and see what happens. Aye, aye, sir. That stopped them suddenly. They don't seem to know what to make of it, do they? Look out, sir. Here comes the stone. Well, that was too close. How's the range for small shot, Mr. Peckersgill? Too far, sir. Could do almost no damage. Good. Fire a charge at the black who threw that stone. But be sure it's small shot. Aye, aye, sir. Mr. Saunders, aim for that nearest black. Aye, aye, sir. That's how it ends, sir. He can't be hurt by much by the way he's running. But the other man seems to be standing his ground. Why, rest my soul. See, maybe he wasn't running to get his shield from that what? Those are not swords they have. It's a contrivance for throwing spears. Here they come. Look out, sir. Down everyone, first spear. Send some more small shot into a mister right into him this time. Aye, aye, sir. Small shot, better have it, lad. And so Captain Cook, landing on this new soil, claimed it in the name of the British government and called the harbor Stingray Bay. But because of the perfusion of plant life, it was quickly renamed Botany Bay. Years later, the English government saw in Australia an opportunity rid itself of the many lawbreakers that overflowed its prisons. Consequently, in 1787, Captain Arthur Phillips was dispatched with a convoy of prisoners to form a penal colony at Botany Bay. But not all of these were murderers and thieves. Small offenders guilty of nothing more than petty misdemeanors or political differences were branded as criminals. And without the merest form of grading, were transported to Australia. We take you to an English country estate in 1788. Oh, Morton, I want to have a word with you. Yes, sir, Charles. There seems to be quite a lot of unrest and hard feeling against me in the village lately. You've been too easy with them, I think, sir. A little discipline is good for them. Yes, yes, I know. You've been telling me that ever since I put you in charge after your father died. I merely enforced the laws, sir, Charles. My father was exceeding lacks in that matter. Yes, yes, so you've pointed out before. But it comes to my ears that the wood at the lower break has been closed to the villagers. Why is that? They've been cutting down trees in that part, sir. But that's where they've obtained their firewood ever since I can remember. What regulations have you made regarding the lower break? Anyone entering the wood must have written permission from me. I don't like it, Morton. I repeat, I don't like it. Have you found any of the villagers in there since you made the ruling? No, sir, Charles. I've had a little trouble with the foresters in enforcing the order. Don't wonder at it. They're all fine men. Well, if you catch anyone in there, I insist upon having them brought to me before any punishment is administered. Understand, Morton? Very good, sir Charles. Good night, sir. Oh, William, what's come over, sir Charles, that we have to steal our firewood by the light of a lantern? It's not, sir Charles, Mary. But Master Morton, the steward is responsible for easier changes. But don't you worry, wife. Archkins is on duty in here tonight. He'll not be glad just a sack full of kindling. Well, we have enough now. I'm afraid to stay longer, William. Let's be a going. Well, I'll just split this one piece and then we'll be off. You're going to be the law, sir. Oh, William. Archkins, take that lantern from the woman. Master Morton, sir, I was just taking a little kin in to keep the house warm. Did you have permission to enter this wood? I know, sir, but your father always allowed it. My father was a soft-hearted fool. Oh, Master Morton, sir, how can you say that? What's your name, fellow? A Will Bright, sir, and Placer to keep that pistol reporting down. I'm not going to run. If you did, I'd send a ball into you and you know it. Is this woman your wife? Yes, sir. Well, the government's found a place for wrestlers like you. You'll be charged with trespass and thievery, both of you. But, Master Morton, sir, we didn't mean to be a stealing. We've always come here. All your tongue, woman. The lords are going to be obeyed in these parts. Don't you worry, wife. Sir Charles will not let us be armed because of this. Sir Charles will know nothing about it. You'll be taken to the county prison at once. And if I have anything to do with it, you'll both be on the next prison ship bound for Botany Bay where you can stay from the air than blacks. The history of the penal colony at Botany Bay is written with the military harshness of the period. Dark days of despotism which characterize all such undertakings. But out of the darkness with the unfailing strength of true pioneers have come the men who saw into the future. The colony was moved northward to Port Jackson. Volunteer settlers came from England bringing sheep and cattle. Then demons land, now called the island of Tasmania, was colonized. Then came the great drought, which forced exploration past the blue dividing barrier of mountains and led the way into Victoria and one of the richest districts of the country. Transportation of convicts to the new world was discontinued. And the mother country was given the task of dispatching the right type of immigrant to the colonies. The young country developed slowly. But in 1851 came a discovery that changed the steady advancement to a headlong rush. Hurry up, flage, hurry up. Get them all, Cedarnes. We are due to leave inside a minute and nobody is going to say that this branch of carbon coal was behind time. Oh, go on, hurry up. All those ready to leave, driver? Yes, sir. We'll be off in half a mile. Good. There's another man called Hargraves here. I say, driver, have you a Mr. Hargraves among yours? Yes, yes, here in the coach. I'm Hargraves. What do you? Why, Martin, how did you know I was here? Hargraves, you old sinner. What do you mean by passing through here without letting me know? I didn't have time, old man. The stage only stopped here five minutes, you know? When did you get back from California? Just a week ago. I was going to write you. But thought I'd better wait and see if my hunch was right, first of all. Your hunch? Great, Scott. What mad scheme have you got in your mind now? Listen, when I was in the guru fields in California, I noticed they made their biggest strikes on ground, identical in formation, with some that I know of, out Bathurst way. I'm on my way now to see if there's anything to the coincidence. All right, all right. Everybody seated. Hargraves found gold at Bathurst. Then came the discoveries at Ballarat in Victoria, which held at the Romantic Roaring 50s. Within a month, 70,000 people were in the fields, feverishly seeking the precious yellow metal. As was inevitable, lawlessness entered, and the government imposed licensing regulations. Bush-ranging became a real profession. Male coaches and miners were robbed. Gold was free for the taking. To hold the great human avalanche in check, the price of digging permits was raised. More police were sent to the fields and licenses were rigidly inspected. This was too much for the free-thinking miners. They rebelled, and gathering all available licenses made a bonfire of them in full view of the authorities. Troops were called to put down the rebellion. The miners entrenched themselves behind a stockade on Eureka Leed, and on December 3, 1854, Australian diggers made history in the trenches for the first time. Are the boys getting some rest, Raffaele? Sure, Mr. Lala, he's going to plenty of rest. He's making much snore. Good. They need it. It looks as if the military are going to leave us alone for a few hours, because it's Sunday. I expect them to attack last night. You've made a pretty job of that stockade, Byrne. That is as much as it could be done in the time people. Thornin is making his rounds now. What time is it? By the watch, it's at four o'clock, and Raffaele and we some more to tie it. Hmm. But soon we sun up. The both of you had better get some sleep. On that Sunday morning, the military triumphed. But victory, in a greater sense, was with the miners. Their fight for freedom at the Eureka Stockade brought a closer understanding from the government. After many weeks of public sympathy and waiting, the leaders of the revolt were brought to trial. In a crowded courtroom, the historical incident is closed. Peter Lala, you and your associates have been brought to trial on charge of high treason against the crown. You have been tried by a jury of your peers and disregarding every damning shred of evidence against you, they have returned a verdict of not guilty. Oh! Retardom! Stop this noise at once. I'm doing my best, Your Honor, but they've gone mad. Oh! Those two men dance here on that table. Arrest them. Arrest them at once and bring them before me. All right, Your Honor. Hey! This is an outrage. The verdict was bad enough without this unseemly demonstration. Do you realize this is a court of law? For those of the two men, Baylif, who were making so much noise. Yes, Your Honor. They're two of the spectators. Very well. Without any further preliminaries, I sentence both of you to seven days in jail for contempt of court. Thus, the only punishment for the whole uprising fell upon two innocent spectators. Victoria flourished. With the gradual disappearance of surface gold, the majority of the diggers migrated to the land and started farming. Expeditions opened up the country back or beyond. Such names as Air, Sturt, Wregory, Sturt, Burke and Wills have taken most of the mystery from the never-never lands of the interior. North, South, East, West, have been covered, yet some parts still remain unknown. After years of tender nursing, the Federation of States was accomplished and Australia emerged a Commonwealth. A capital apart from all contending cities was sought, and Canberra, the Bush capital, 204 miles distant from Sydney was established. But the loyalty of young Australia to the homeland was to be further tested. 1914! November 9th, 1914, on board the Australian cruiser, Sydney. Barney, will you take a look at this, sir? What is it, gold? An ace away from Cochise Island, sir. They say there's a strange warship approaching them. Hey, Joe Wilde, better quit as the ending. What's that coming through now? Same, mister, sir. We sort of stopped in the middle. Here, bowels. Take this message to Captain Gossip at once. Aye, aye, sir. And pray that we're the lucky ones to go after her. We're not far from the island, are we, sir? About 50 miles. Lord, I hope we get the order to swing out of the convoy and engage her. Here it comes, now, sir. Cruiser, Sydney, proceed to Cochise Island under full steam. Engage enemy craft! That's it, sir! That's it, sir! Inside four hours, the enemy raider, Emden, was a shapeless mass of scrap iron on the north beach of Cochise Island. Later, the Australian troops made history at the Dardanelles. On every front, the Australian soldier proved his worth. And now, Anzac, the word coined from the phrase Australian and New Zealand Army Corps for telegraphic purposes, is synonymous with supreme courage and spoken out with reverence in every land. This amazing country has grown rapidly. Her enormous sheep runs provide the world with more than a quarter of its woolens. Queensland, with her tropical climate, raises an abundance of luscious fruit. Through constant struggle, the men of the Mallee Wheat Belt have given the world a grain that is eagerly sought for the quality and quantity of its flour. And still come the settlers and still more wasteland is cleared for the golden harvest. But Australia has given the world more than material things. Forty-five miles from Melbourne and shaded by immense gum trees, stood an old house which in the early days heard the first notes sung by one of the most beautiful voices of the world. It was here that Nellie Mitchell caught the music of nature, and as Nellie Melbourne sang her golden-voiced way into every heart, royalty and peasant alike paid tribute to her golden voice. For years, the capitals of the world paid homage to this Australian nightingale. But Melbourne longed for the land of her birth to see again the tall white gum trees and the flash of yellow wattle in the bush. After sixteen years of absence, Melbourne landed at Brisbane and started the train journey south toward Melbourne along the route of which she knew her aged father would be waiting to see her. And as the train approached Albury, the heart of the singer quickened with love and excitement. No, no, Maddie, this hat won't do at all. No, I won't wear it. Oh, now look what it's done. Now you'll have to do my hair all over again. Oh, Madame must not upset herself. It will take but a moment for Maddie to arrange it properly again. But which hat shall I wear? Oh, I must look my best for father and we'll be in the station in a few moments. Yeah, dear Madame, you must not worry. You see? It is done. But the hat, dear Madame, you need it. Does that please you? Dear me, however did you manage it. Well, it's perfect, Maddie. I think we are approaching the station, Madame. Yes, my dears, where are they? Madame, in my parcel. Oh, listen, crowd of people. They are here to welcome you, Madame. Just as I had been ever since we arrived in Australia. But these are my people, Maddie. My dear father's somewhere among them. Quickly, I can't wait another moment. He's here somewhere, Madame. You must be patient. The crowd is so great. Yes, I know. But he's such an old man and very frail. That's why I'm so anxious to... I beg your pardon, Madame Melba. You are expecting to meet your father here. Yes, yes, where is he? Has anything happened to him? Oh, please be calm, Madame. I am a doctor. Your father is a very frail man. And the excitement of your coming, I'm afraid, was just a little more than he... Oh, he's ill. Where is he? Take me to him. Take me to him at once. Very well. He's lying at a house quite close to the station. Will you come with me, Madame? This is the house. You must be very quiet when we go in. If he's had a stroke, Doctor, is there a possibility that he won't recognize me? It is very likely that he won't, Madame. Madame Melba, this is Mrs. Griffiths, who's been caring for your father. Won't you come in, please, Madame Melba? Is he really very... very ill, Mrs. Griffiths? Won't he know me when he sees me? Don't worry, my dear. I think she'll know you all right. But we must be very quiet. He's in this room lying in bed. Oh, how frail he looks. May I kneel by the bed? Of course, my dear. Try not to disturb him. Look, he's smiling. Oh, he knows me. Father. Father to come home after all these years and find you like this. I'll never, never leave you again. The train must go on to Melba without me. No, no, Nellie. You, you must go on. But, Father, dear... You must go on. No, no, do not disappoint me. But, Father, I've come home. My little girl, sing to me, lass. Sing now? Oh, but how can I sing with my heart almost breaking? Nellie, please. Yes, yes, I can. I can always sing for you, Father. Let me open the organ for you, my dear. The only known history of Australia is the story of pioneers. And history is still in the making. On November 12th, 1919, two Australian brothers, Ross and Keith Smith, accompanied by Sergeant Shires and Bennett, left London, England to reach Australia by air. Flying through winter weather, proclaimed by experts to be absolutely unfit for aerial navigation, these pioneers pressed on. Over France, Italy, Egypt, India, Siam and Java they passed, and surmounting all obstacles, on December 10th, 1919, landed at Port Darwin, North Australia. Since then, many Australian names have blazoned themselves across the sky. It was from this land that Sir Charles Kingsford Smith, with his southern cross appeared, and later in another plane, disappeared into the blue. But the years have added charm to this peaceful nation of fighting men and women. The harbour at Adelaide still holds its mellowed Old World atmosphere. Western Australia greets the traveller out of the Indian Ocean, with their beautiful black swans. Queensland welcomes giant ships into the very heart of her modern city of Brisbane. The Northland raises its cattle on Rich Berger, and the twin cities of the island of Tasmania provide the peace, rest and beauty so necessary to the inhabitants of a thriving continent. Once more, the hauser that binds us temporarily to land is released. The gap of blue water between widens. And as we watch the city of Sydney float gently away, we marvel at this land of flowers and industry of beauty and courage, whose men and women in a few short years have tamed the might of nature and made Australia what she is today. A rich and gracious queen of the sea. Invite you to join us again next week in this time as we journey to another of the world's fascinating ports of call.