Giles Watson's poetry and prose
Foliated Pipefish
Foliated Pipefish
The Captain has relaxed discipline on account
of a “pretty kind of hippocampus”. Two fishes
have been set aside for me to paint. They lie
fluting water from their tube-mouths, whilst
five others are passed around the quarterdeck,
and then, at a nod from Flinders, carried down
to the foremast hands. Men who can weather
the Cape, hold fast under fire, ram a gun
with powder and shot, board a deck and slit
a throat – now hold forth trembling hands
and breathe out gasps of awe as these weedy,
brittle treasures, fresh from dredge and trawl,
are handed round. Unbidden, they have formed
an orderly line, and the fishes go from hand
to calloused hand, finishing with the powder-boys
whose eyes grow wide with wonder. Only hours
ago, our redcoats were presenting arms before
a long line of natives, and the old man with his
wooden staff stood at attention and saluted,
compared his body-paint with our marines’
white straps and braids. Now, the captain sets
our course for open sea, and my eyeglass comes
to bear on these strange productions of weed
and brine, my hurried pencil catching all, before
their blush of colours begins to bleach and fade.
Poem by Giles Watson, 2014. Picture: ‘Sea Horse’, Arcana. What is now known as the Weedy Sea-Dragon (Phyllopteryx taeniolatus) was variously identified by explorers as a type of sea horse or pipefish (Foliated Pipefish was George Shaw’s name for it). Ferdinand Bauer is my narrator, recording events which were also recounted by Matthew Flinders in his journal for 3rd January 1802. Prior to departing from King George’s Sound, near present-day Albany, Flinders had ordered his marines to salute “our friends, the natives”. One old man, whom Flinders and his men had befriended some days before by shooting a parrot and giving it to him, “placed himself at the end of the rank, with a short staff in his hand, which he shouldered, presented, grounded, as did the marines with their muskets, without, I believe, knowing what he did. Before firing, the Indians were made acquainted with what was going to take place; so that the volleys did not excite much terror.” Contrary to the frightened reactions of some other indigenous Australians at the sight of the Marines, Flinders remarked that “The red coats and white crossed belts were greatly admired, having some resemblance to their own manner of ornamenting themselves; and the drum, but particularly the fife, excited their astonishment…” See Tim Flannery (Ed.), Terra Australis: Matthew Flinders’ Great Adventures in the Circumnavigation of Australia, Melbourne, 2000, pp. 54-55. Bauer painted two of the sea dragons, one carrying eggs beneath its tail, which were captured whilst Flinders trawled the Sound in the hope of catching fresh fish for eating. Bauer’s final version of the picture can be seen below.
Foliated Pipefish
Foliated Pipefish
The Captain has relaxed discipline on account
of a “pretty kind of hippocampus”. Two fishes
have been set aside for me to paint. They lie
fluting water from their tube-mouths, whilst
five others are passed around the quarterdeck,
and then, at a nod from Flinders, carried down
to the foremast hands. Men who can weather
the Cape, hold fast under fire, ram a gun
with powder and shot, board a deck and slit
a throat – now hold forth trembling hands
and breathe out gasps of awe as these weedy,
brittle treasures, fresh from dredge and trawl,
are handed round. Unbidden, they have formed
an orderly line, and the fishes go from hand
to calloused hand, finishing with the powder-boys
whose eyes grow wide with wonder. Only hours
ago, our redcoats were presenting arms before
a long line of natives, and the old man with his
wooden staff stood at attention and saluted,
compared his body-paint with our marines’
white straps and braids. Now, the captain sets
our course for open sea, and my eyeglass comes
to bear on these strange productions of weed
and brine, my hurried pencil catching all, before
their blush of colours begins to bleach and fade.
Poem by Giles Watson, 2014. Picture: ‘Sea Horse’, Arcana. What is now known as the Weedy Sea-Dragon (Phyllopteryx taeniolatus) was variously identified by explorers as a type of sea horse or pipefish (Foliated Pipefish was George Shaw’s name for it). Ferdinand Bauer is my narrator, recording events which were also recounted by Matthew Flinders in his journal for 3rd January 1802. Prior to departing from King George’s Sound, near present-day Albany, Flinders had ordered his marines to salute “our friends, the natives”. One old man, whom Flinders and his men had befriended some days before by shooting a parrot and giving it to him, “placed himself at the end of the rank, with a short staff in his hand, which he shouldered, presented, grounded, as did the marines with their muskets, without, I believe, knowing what he did. Before firing, the Indians were made acquainted with what was going to take place; so that the volleys did not excite much terror.” Contrary to the frightened reactions of some other indigenous Australians at the sight of the Marines, Flinders remarked that “The red coats and white crossed belts were greatly admired, having some resemblance to their own manner of ornamenting themselves; and the drum, but particularly the fife, excited their astonishment…” See Tim Flannery (Ed.), Terra Australis: Matthew Flinders’ Great Adventures in the Circumnavigation of Australia, Melbourne, 2000, pp. 54-55. Bauer painted two of the sea dragons, one carrying eggs beneath its tail, which were captured whilst Flinders trawled the Sound in the hope of catching fresh fish for eating. Bauer’s final version of the picture can be seen below.