​From London to Fremantle, a Storm at Sea. 

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On 8 May 1886, with the Sargent family on board, the steamship Elderslie departed the Royal Albert Docks in London bound for Launceston, Tasmania. Instead, after a terrifying storm at sea, they found themselves beginning a new life in Western Australia.

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Among the passengers were Obeithio Sargent, aged 34, his wife Mary Ann, also 34, and their three young children:

• Oswald, aged 5

• Olive Mary, aged 3

• Ivy Ann, aged 1

Mary Ann was pregnant at the time of the voyage.

​Their passage cost £54, a considerable sum for the period.

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                                                                 ​Steamship Elderslie (2,760 tons)

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By the late nineteenth century, emigrant voyages from Britain were regulated by the Passenger Acts, which required ships to provide passengers with a minimum standard of food and water during long voyages. Provisions were issued daily by the ship's master, although passengers prepared and cooked their own meals.

Each adult received three quarts of water daily, exclusive of what was required for cooking, together with a weekly allowance of provisions according to the scale required by law.

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Typical rations included:

• Bread or biscuits – 3½ lbs

• Wheaten flour – 2 lbs

• Oatmeal – 1 lb

• Rice – ½ lb

• Peas – 1½ lbs

• Potatoes – 2 lbs

• Beef – 1½ lbs

• Pork – 1 lb

• Tea – 2 oz

• Sugar – 1 lb

• Butter – 4 oz

• Raisins – 8 oz

• Suet – 6 oz

• Lime juice – 6 oz

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​​​​Life on Board

The following diary entries by Obeithio Sargent describe the early days of the voyage.

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Saturday, May 8th

We got on board at about ¼ past 1 p.m. Soon found our cabin and Lysken, having come on with us, cooked a joint of roast beef in a tin pan, another pan of potatoes in their jackets, plenty of good gravy. She helped get us straight before leaving us at 3 p.m.

At about 2 o’clock dinner was served – a nice start.

To describe our quarters, we came down a steep ladder, about ten awkward steps into our room, which was about 20 feet square. In it were two fixed tables with benches on each side. Along the sides of the room were cabins or berths – five on the right-hand side and three double-sized ones on the left.

Ours was the second on the right and had a little window through which the children amused themselves by watching passing ships and boats.

At six tea was ready. The steward brought a large tin pan of hot tea, some loaves, butter, a bread-tin of sugar and the cold roast and boiled beef. We had to dip our cups into the tin as we wanted tea.

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Sunday, May 9th

We were wakened early by the sailors shouting “Ready!” as the ship prepared to depart. Two tugs turned us round and at six we were fairly off.

It was a fine calm day. At three our pilot left us by boat near Dover, taking with him letters for England.

The sight of Dover Castle on the white chalk cliffs, surrounded by green and brown fields and a calm sea shining in the sunlight, was a beautiful sight. I wished I had my photographic apparatus with me, but there was no room in our cabin for anything beyond ourselves and our luggage.

At night the moon shone brightly and a few stars were visible. The waves were larger now and the ship rocked gently. I quite enjoyed the motion.

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Monday, May 10th

Another calm day though not quite so bright as Sunday – A slight shower of rain this afternoon, and the wind is rather cold. We’re in the English Channel, but expect to reach the Bay of Biscay tonight – beautiful rainbow this evening in the East – Sea gulls are flying round us, almost alighting on our ship. We were still in the English Channel but expected to reach the Bay of Biscay during the night. Sea gulls flew around the ship, almost landing on deck.

The ship began to roll.

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Tuesday, May 11th

We had been in the Bay of Biscay for about six hours. An experienced traveller told me this was a wonderful passage through the Bay, as it is rarely so calm.

But the rolling made us feel very bilious. Olive was sick in the morning and Mary felt very bad indeed.

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The Storm

Later in life, Obeithio recalled the most frightening part of the voyage, which occurred after the ship rounded the Cape of Good Hope.

For forty-eight hours, the storm was so severe that the first-class passengers remained dressed and ready at a moment’s notice to take to the lifeboats.

Even now, thinking back, I seem to hear the roar of the storm and the thunder of the great wave as it falls on the ship, then the awful silence while we are under the wave, and then the shaking like an angry beast. Then, as we rise again, the water runs off the deck, and again we hear the roar of the storm.

For days, the passengers were confined to their bunks.

When at last they were able to go on deck, the scene was shocking. The sails were torn to rags. The animals on board had either been washed overboard or were in a dreadful state, with their pens broken up. The bridge was damaged, and the wheel was broken. Eight sailors tried to hold it, and two of them had their legs broken in the attempt.

During the storm, five-year-old Oswald was almost washed overboard, forcing the captain to confine all passengers below deck for their safety.

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An Unexpected Landing

When the ship finally reached Fremantle, Western Australia, Mary Ann was examined by a doctor.

He insisted that, for the sake of both mother and unborn child, she must not continue the voyage to Tasmania.

The Sargents, therefore, disembarked in Fremantle — a place they had never intended to settle.

With no accommodation available, Obeithio eventually found shelter in a cellar in Bennett Street, Perth, where Mary Ann soon gave birth to a son.

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A Letter Written Twenty-Six Years Later

In 1912, Obeithio wrote to his cousin, Rev. Edward Sargent in Bristol, describing the voyage and the unexpected course his life had taken in Western Australia.

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"York
Western Australia
21 September 1912

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My dear Cousin Edward,

It is now a quarter of a century since you very kindly helped me to get here. I have often felt that I ought to write, but I am not a letter writer, and I have always felt so very much ashamed of myself for ever asking or accepting any help from you, that I have not managed to summon the courage to write. And indeed I haven’t known your address…

How much you know of my history since leaving old England, I have no idea, so I will give you a rough outline of the whole and leave you to read or burn it as you may feel disposed.

To begin with, we had a very rough passage from the Cape of Good Hope to Fremantle. So rough that at one time, for forty-eight hours, the first class passengers were all dressed and ready at a moment’s notice to take to the boats. Even now, thinking back I seem to hear the roar of the storm and the thunder of the great wave as it falls on the ship and then the awful silence while we are under the wave, and then the shaking like an angry beast, then as we rise again the water runs off the deck, and again we hear the roar of the storm. Oh, that was a never-to-be-forgotten time. For days, we were confined to our bunks, but at last, we got on deck again, and there, what a sight. The sails all in rags, the poor animals, cows &c either washed overboard or in a dreadful state – their pens broken up, the Bridge broken, the wheel broken. Eight sailors could not hold it and in trying to do so two of them got broken legs.

But enough, enough. - We were bound for Tasmania, but when we reached Fremantle, we, by the Doctor’s advice, got off, hoping to go on again later on. We got to Perth, and there, while looking for employment, I got a living taking Photos. After a few months, I got a job as a chemist opening a new business in York, my employers being a firm of storekeepers in conjunction with Dr Thomson, the only doctor for 100 miles around. The business did fairly well …

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​​Letters from Home

Back in England, Obeithio’s mother, Esther Beuzeville Sargent, wrote anxiously to her son.

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On 16 September 1886, she wrote:

“Uncle William (Byles) says from what little he knows of the two places he thinks Perth may present better opportunities for getting on than Launceston… It is oh so hard to think I shall never see your dear face or hear your dear voice again. Do you feel anything of ‘homesickness?”

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She ended her letter with a prayer:

“May He who has taken you in safety over the raging waters of His sea preserve and bless, guide and prosper and make you a blessing on land.”

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Her next letter, written 21 October 1886, was more anguished: 

“Often a feeling of self-reproach comes over me, as if I might have done something for your comfort on your voyage – it is scandalous that you should have been so starved. I do hope the starvation will not be permanently hurtful to you – my love to poor Mary Ann. I trust by this time she is picking up strength, but you could not expect it while living in that cellar.”

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In 1897, Esther wrote to her son Philadelph, who had migrated to America, lamenting the fact that her husband and two of her children had died; another had also gone to America, and one to New Zealand:

“…our dear good Beithi – after a perilous voyage reached a shore that he did not intend – but that we must hope was ruled for him.”

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On 3 October 1901, just eight months before she died, Esther wrote:

"How I should like to see all of you and your place, you have been very good, you and Oswald, helping us to the best substitute in photographs – but I should like the reality – but that is a futile wish."

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Obeithio and Mary Ann never did return to England, nor did they visit Tasmania. Their cousin George and family arrived in Launceston in late June 1886. The two branches lost contact and did not meet again until ninety-four years later when in 1980 Lionel’s son John Sargent and his wife Gladys travelled from their home in Western Australia to be reunited with their long-lost Tasmanian relatives.

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A New Life in Western Australia

Despite its difficult beginning, the family gradually established itself in Western Australia.

Obeithio first earned a living taking photographs and later opened a chemist shop in York. In time he purchased a property called Riverville.

Two more children, Marjorie and Lionel, were born in York.

Although he remained in contact with his family in England, Obeithio and Mary Ann never returned there, nor did they ever resume their journey to Tasmania.

The voyage that began as a passage to Tasmania instead became the beginning of a new life in Western Australia. From this unexpected landing grew the Western Australian branch of the Sargent family, whose descendants remain there today.

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Notes & Sources

Part of the cost of the voyage was borrowed from William Byles, proprietor of the Bradford Observer, a grandson of Esther Hewlett Copley. That sum was repaid many years later. 

Letters and diary supplied by John Sargent of Busselton, Western Australia.