Sunday, 19th March 1837

This week saw the emergence of our own "Robinson Crusoe" story here in the Colony.

Back in January ten men from the Coromandel (Cpt W Chesser) jumped ship and headed for the hills - quite literally, as they were last seen heading up the Sturt River towards the uncharted hills.

This week they re-emerged, tired, filthy and dishevelled and gave themselves up to the marines saying that after the Hell they had been going through, living a life of terror and distress in what they termed "The Coromandel Valley", they threw themselves on the mercy of the courts and would rather life in prison than go on eking out a miserable existence in the Adelaide Hills.

Bugger them!

They are more nuisance than they are worth. "Throw themselves on the mercy of the courts" indeed! "The courts" at present consist of nothing more than old Jeffcott, swanning about with his gavel and wig and "life in prison" is hardly likely when we don't actually have one.

The circumstances of their capture I can recount fully, as it was I who took them prisoner. I had ridden out with the Marines on a reconnoitre to discover any French spies or New South Welsh convicts attempting to enter our territory when suddenly a man dressed in the scantest of rags stood up from behind a wattle bush and hailed me. At first I did not see him as he was on the side of my bad eye and I almost rode on, but the Marines alerted me to him and I turned to see the spectacle of ten ragbags emerge from behind same bush. How they fitted there I do not care to think about,  but they all cried out in piteous voices "Sanctuary! Sanctuary". One of the Marines rather wittily replied "No, thank you very!", but they did not seem to appreciate the humour.

I soon heard their story and then handed then over to the Marines, ordering them to march the prisoners back to the Bay. I rode on to alert Jeffcott about this and to take some legal advice.

The Marines duly marched them back to Glenelg then stood about in confusion wondering what to do, since none of them have any experience with taking prisoners. At length one of the Marines suggested that the prisoners might like a drink and before long the prisoners and their captors were singing drunken songs together in harmony and feeling that life was very fine indeed. Certainly the Coromandel escapees soon forgot their distress, though I hope to God they suffered the next day.

The Coromandel having long since departed the prisoners are currently billeted with the Marines on board the Buffalo; notionally "under arrest", although from the way Mrs Hindmarsh and I are kept awake by singing, concertina music and raucous laughter at all hours night and day it seems that never was there a more hilarious incarceration.

I have suggested to Jeffcott that he find them guilty of desertion, give them a lecture about the "hideous nature of a crime abhorrent to decent society" and then tell them to bugger off. We simply do not have the facility to be dealing with convicted men - certainly not ten of them - and we have need of ten able bodied men to further develop the Colony. And if they were so keen to stay then we might as well let them.

I have had occasion to speak before of our Company's geologist Johan Menge. The man is either a genius, a charlatan or a buffoon.

I received a report this week telling me that in the two short months he has been on Kangaroo Island he has discovered commercial quantities of Amethyst, Aquamarine, Carnelian, Rubies and Lapis Lazuli.

If true then Kangaroo Island might yet be the gemstone capital of Asia.

If false then I am left with the possibility that Menge has no idea of what he is talking about.

He included rock samples with his report and I am no expert, but I must needs say that they look more like bits of  old gravel than semi precious stones. In his reports he also seems to claim that he was led to the mineral deposits by angelic spirits. A pretty picture, but not one that causes me to be sanguine of the veracity of Menge's claims. I find myself doubting the efficacy of angelic intervention as a tool in mineral exploration.

Still we shall see.

With the Completion of the town survey by Colonel Light the time has come, it seems, to set our minds to naming the streets and parks.

I have let it be known that members of the populace interested in contributing suggestions should see their suggestions, in writing, to me here at The Buffalo. So far I have received several lists of suggestions each less enticing than the last. They range from the unimaginative - First Street, Second Street, Third Street and so on was one such - to the enthusiastic ravings of the apparently febrile.

One list - I suspect from Charlie Howard -  suggested naming the streets after people in the Bible.  And so we can have Abinadab Street, Bechorath Boulevard, Kerenhappuch Street, Abiasaph Road and the like. Rejecting this list means that we will miss out on walking down Zurishaddai Street, but it is a price I am prepared to pay.

Since the city is to be named after Queen Adelaide (or "Eagle beak" as she is affectionately referred to by many) - another suggested that the streets be named after Monarchs of England. I am sorry to record that I find the notion of the main street being called "Ethelred the Unready Avenue" unacceptable. And do we really need Ælfweard Road as an address? I think not.

My own list of suggested street names using Great British Naval Victories will, I hope, meet with greater favour. Trafalgar, Penobscot, Porto Bello, Navarino, Quiberon Bay all shall live on as they deserve in the street names of Adelaide. What could be finer?

Anything could be finer than the meal served up by Lucrezia on Thursday last. We had invited Moneybags Gilles to dine with us and the woman outdid herself by serving Moules Mariniere a la Provencal. Unfortunately she took the gilt from the gingerbread by announcing that she had been unable to procure the necessary mussels and so had made the thing with wombat. She assured us that we would barely notice the difference, but I beg to differ.