8o 
FROM CAPE OF GOOD HOPE TO SYDNEY. 
probably the highest tree in the world. It has been known to grow to a height of over 300 
feet, with a girth of seventy feet at its base. One of these giants discovered in the 
Dandenong State Forest measured 306 feet. At a height of twelve feet from the ground 
its diameter was eleven feet four inches; and at a height of 210 feet, it was still five feet 
across. With the addition of the small branches at the top, its total height was estimated 
at 330 feet. 
H.M.S. “Challenger” steamed out of Flobson’s Bay on the 1st day of April to resume 
her work upon the high seas. We had another glance at the pretty headlands, Queenscliff 
and Lonsdale Point, which form the entrance to Port Phillip. They have become the favourite 
resort of the parched citizen of Melbourne, who comes here 
to breathe the fresh sea breezes. Indeed, the Victorian’s 
excursions in search of a more congenial atmosphere now 
frequently extend to Tasmania, the beautiful island opposite, 
whose merits are perhaps not so well known as they deserve 
to be. Its climate, being more moist, is healthier than 
that of Victoria, and approaches more nearly the climate 
of Great Britain. April the 2nd was spent in sounding 
and dredging between the islands of Bass Strait, a cluster of barren rocks which render 
safe navigation a task by no means easy. The lighthouse on Gabo Island, and Cape Howe, 
which divides Victoria from New South Wales, were passed about sunset on Good Friday, 
April the 3rd. On the following day, a sounding of 2200 fathoms was obtained off Twofold 
Bay, showing the great depth of the sea which bathes the shores of New South Wales. 
Easter Sunday proved to be one of the finest days of our cruise. We sailed all day in 
sight of the coast, which lay slumbering under a cloudless summer sky. Range after 
range of forest-clad hills rose one above the other, until lost in the blue distance; and 
the eye strayed over vast tracts of land as yet barely touched by the hand of civilised man. 
N° w and again we marked the silver streak of a waterfall tumbling over the cliff, or the 
opening of a little bay, probably the home of some pioneer. The last rays of the sun were 
still gilding the highest summits of this future home of a great nation, when a bright moon 
began to shed its glories over land and sea—an exquisitely beautiful sight when witnessed 
from the deck of a ship as she silently glides through the waves under her cloud of white 
canvas. The dawn of Easter Monday lighted up the pretty settlement of Wollongong, 
and then we steamed along a steep rocky barrier which extends northward beyond Port 
Jackson. An opening between the cliffs afforded us a glance into Botany Bay, now almost 
deserted, but still boasting of that park-like beauty and that variety of vegetation, new to the 
European eye, to which it is indebted for its name. The next opening forms the entrance 
to ort Jackson, hemmed in on each side by the precipitous Sydney Heads, but too well 
known in connection with unlucky ships that here have been literally “wrecked in sight of the 
port. We arrived off the Heads about noon, but a delay was made in order to prepare 
for entering the harbour. It was washing-day on board, and Jack’s wardrobe was displayed 
QUEENSCLIFF, ENTRANCE TO PORT PHILLIP. 
