THE TRISTAN DA CUNHA GROUP
From South Georgia we proceeded first in a northerly direction in order
to get into the belt of prevailing westerlies which would give us a
fair quarterly wind for Tristan da Cunha.
Whilst still in the vicinity of the island a number of soundings were
carried out by Worsley and his assistants.
From the first we had bad weather, and the winds increased in force
during the next few days until, on Friday, May 12th, so fierce a gale
was blowing that I was compelled to take in sail and heave to. We had
a most uncomfortable time, though we could expect nothing less since we
were now in the “Roaring Forties.”
Macklin’s diary of May 13th is fairly descriptive of conditions about
this time:
Had the middle watch. Heavy seas were running and the wind was
strong with violent squalls of rain and snow. It was a dirty
night. The _Quest_ rolled worse than anything I have ever known,
with staggering jerks that made it impossible to let go a support.
At times the ship sagged down so heavily to leeward that my heart
was in my mouth, for it seemed as if she could never recover
herself. Peering to windward as the great seas bore down upon us
I was reminded of Kipling’s
Be well assured that on our side
The abiding oceans fight,
Though headlong wind and heaping tide
Make us their sport to-night.
which is comforting to know. He always seems to catch just the
right expression, as:
Out of the mist into the mirk
The glimmering combers roll.
Almost these mindless waters work
As though they had a soul—
However, as the Boss used to say: “When things are bad any change
is likely to be for the better.” We pour some vile epithets upon
the head of poor old _Quest_, but she really does not deserve
them, for she is always at her best when things are bad. Commander
Wild says she is like a woman, quoting something about “Women
in our hours of ease, perfidious, fickle, hard to please!” I
suppose he knows all about it. Anyway, she has brought us through
what might well have caused many a more stately ship to founder.
Things have remained much the same during the day—water keeps
coming over the gunwales in huge masses and hundreds of tons pass
hourly across “The Rubicon,” as we call the wash of water in the
waist of her. Occasionally big green seas come aboard _en masse_,
flooding the whole ship, and find their way everywhere, through
cracks in the doors, spirting through the keyholes and through
the ventilators, which, with all the ports tightly closed, must be
kept open.
Macklin places in my mouth an incorrect rendering which I would never
apply to the gentler sex, but which is certainly very appropriate to
the _Quest_.
“Bridget,” the pig which was presented to us by Mr. Jacobsen on leaving
South Georgia, had a very miserable time, and I was almost giving
instructions to have it killed right away. It was totally unable to
keep its footing on the slippery deck and it was very sea-sick. I
handed it over to the care of McLeod, who found it a snug berth in the
_bathroom_, where it quickly recovered its spirits and began to develop
an insatiable appetite.
In passing I may mention that the bathroom, so-called, was a small
recess containing a tub situated at the side of the engine-room and
opening into the starboard alleyway. It was always warm from the heat
of the engines and we used it chiefly as a drying-room for clothes.
It was used occasionally also on very cold nights as a warming-room
for chilled night-watchmen. We possessed nothing so luxurious as a
real bathroom, and, sinking modesty, we bathed ourselves from a bucket
on deck. In the very cold weather those who were able to ingratiate
themselves with Kerr, the chief engineer, could sometimes take their
tub in front of the furnace fires. This was a real luxury.
I was glad to notice on May 14th a falling off of both wind and sea,
and McIlroy predicted a spell of finer weather. On the 15th it was
distinctly calmer and we were able to continue the work on deck, which
in a ship at sea is interminable, but which the heavier weather had
compelled us to suspend temporarily. “Bridget” emerged from her retreat
and started to move about the deck, where she quickly made friends
with Query. It was highly amusing to watch the antics of the two of
them. She also started to make friendships amongst the hands—notably
with Green, whom she quickly learned to regard as the source of her
food supply. At times she became too friendly, for she began to take
an interest in the cabins and wardroom. Another bad habit was that of
moving about the decks at night, where she had repeated collisions with
the men working the sails.
In spite of the improvement there was still a big enough sea to cause
the _Quest_ to roll heavily, and on the 18th we nearly had a nasty
accident.
I had set a party, composed of Macklin, McIlroy, Jeffrey, Carr and
Marr, to hoisting up from the lower hold a number of sacks of beans
which had got wet and become offensive. The work, which was hard and
difficult on account of the awkward motion, was being carried out,
and to clear a space Macklin had sent up a large heavy ice-basket full
of sundry stores, the whole weighing many hundredweights. Carr was on
deck, and had received the basket when the ship gave an unusually heavy
lurch. Both he and the basket were shot to the opening, and though he
was able to save himself the basket fell with a crash into the hold
where the men were working. Carr yelled a warning and they managed to
leap clear, receiving the impact of some of the cases but escaping a
direct blow. This is but one example of many “incidents” of the kind
that occurred throughout the trip.
Worsley, Jeffrey, Carr, Macklin, Kerr and Green all at separate
times fell through the hatch, and that none of them received serious
injury is remarkable. I was fully prepared on any day to witness some
accident, and that so few occurred can only be due to the special
Providence that guards children, drunken men and sailors. “There’s a
sweet little cherub that sits up aloft, looks after the soul of poor
Jack” (sea song).
Leaving the “Roaring Forties,” the air became milder and the
temperature rose, so that we were able once more to go about without
heavy clothing and could cast aside mufflers, mitts and woollen caps.
We sighted Inaccessible Island just after midnight on May 19th. It
appeared as a high mass with dimly marked outline obscured at the top
by dark banks of cloud. As we came abreast of it the moon came out,
creating a very weird effect. The island itself stood out in deep,
almost Stygian, blackness, and from its summit smoke seemed to be
belching in great rolling masses. High above all was the moon, showing
fitfully from between scudding clouds, and in front, accentuating the
effect, was a rippling silvery pathway. It reminded me of a scene from
Dante’s _Inferno_.
I now set course direct for Tristan da Cunha, where we arrived about
daybreak.
The summit of the island was entirely obscured by heavy clouds and rain
fell thickly, so that everything had a dreary aspect. As the light
increased we were able to pick out the little cascade which gives
a good mark for the anchorage and dropped our anchor in 7¼ fathoms.
Looking ashore I saw a number of small, thatched houses situated on
a piece of flat ground bounded on the side of the sea by short steep
cliffs. This was the settlement where the whole population of the
island lived. As we saw it now, on this soaking early morning, it might
have been a dead village, for there was no sign of life, either beast
or human, not a wreath of smoke ascended from the chimneys, and nothing
at all stirred. To attract attention I blew a blast on the steam
whistle, when there was an immediate change. The people came running
from their cottages and the settlement sprang to life. The men launched
their boats and came off to us. The sailor’s eye was at once attracted
by the boats, which are made of canvas over a wooden framework. The
men themselves were an uncouth lot. They were very excited and talked
a great deal in thin jabbering voices. They hastened to board us and
started at once to ask for things. They proved to be a great nuisance,
so I sent them all ashore, retaining only one man, Robert Glass, who
seemed to be the most intelligent of them. I learnt from him that the
islanders were very destitute. He asked in the name of the community
for our help and, realizing that they were indeed in a bad way, I
determined in the name of Mr. Rowett, who I felt sure would sympathize
with my action, to give them all the relief I could.
I gave instructions to Worsley to see what could be done for them in
the way of deck gear, nails, canvas, rope, paint, etc., things of which
they were in great need, and told Macklin to find out what could be
spared in the way of food and general equipment.
We had brought fifteen bags of letter and parcel mail from England
for these islanders; we had on board also a large number of packages
and cases which Macklin, who had been compelled to find room for them
in the sorely restricted space at his disposal, was pleased at the
prospect of being able to hand over. They included a large gramophone,
a gift from the Æolian Company, and some Bovril sent by the firm as a
present to the islanders.
As I was anxious to learn all I could about these people, their ways
and customs and mode of life generally, I detailed Macklin to go ashore
for this purpose. I also gave him instructions to take a complete
census, which might be of use to the Cape Government. He remained there
while the ship visited Nightingale and Inaccessible Islands, and as
I have asked him to write his own account, to avoid repetition I will
refrain from any further description of Tristan da Cunha itself.
The Tristan da Cunha group of islands includes the three just mentioned
and two smaller islets known as Middle and Stoltenhoff respectively.
They lie roughly in latitude 37 south and 12 west longitude, and they
are approximately 4,000 miles from the Cape of Good Hope. Tristan is
probably the most isolated inhabited island in the world.
The group was discovered by the Portuguese admiral whose name they
bear, in 1506. The Dutch, at the time of their settlement in the Cape
Colony, examined it with a view to making it a naval station. The
East India Company also sent a ship to see if it would be worth while
forming a settlement there. No one lived there, however, till early
in the eighteenth century, when a man named Thomas Currie landed and
decided to remain. He was joined by two American whalers, named Lambert
and Williams respectively. There is a vague report, too, of a Spanish
boy having somehow or other joined the party. Lambert and Williams were
drowned whilst making a visit to Inaccessible Island. What happened to
the other is not clear. The history of the present settlement is dealt
with in the following chapter.
A British naval officer, named Nightingale, visited the group in
1760, and the crew of a sealing vessel, under command of John Patten,
spent six months about the islands, collecting the skins of fur seals.
The first accurate survey was made by the hydrographic staff of the
_Challenger_, which in the course of her historic voyage round the
world spent a short time here in 1873.
All hands having been recalled from the shore, we left Tristan da Cunha
at 7.30 P.M. on May 20th and proceeded in the direction of Inaccessible
Island, which loomed up in the dark ahead of us about midnight. We
reduced speed, waiting till daylight should give us a chance to see
what we were doing.
I took with me on the _Quest_ three of the inhabitants of Tristan da
Cunha to act as pilots and guides about the islands. They were Bob
Glass, his brother John Glass, and Henry Green.
In the early hours of the morning the wind increased and blew from the
north-east with very heavy rain squalls. A landing on Inaccessible
Island seemed quite impossible, so I ran for shelter under the
south-west end of Nightingale Island, which we reached at about 7 A.M.
I put out the surf boat and sent ashore a party, composed of Wilkins
and Marr, for natural history work, and Douglas and Carr for geological
purposes. Jeffrey was in charge of the boat, and I sent with him Henry
Green and John Glass. They effected a landing on the south-east corner
of the island, at a point where the rock rose sheer from the water, but
where there was a rough ledge, on which they managed to get a footing
and place their equipment, which consisted of theodolites, guns,
pickaxes, bags, etc.
Here the parties separated, John Glass accompanying Wilkins, whilst
Henry Green acted as guide to the geologists.
Marr writes in his diary:
We climbed a short way along the jagged rocks with our baggage and
came to a flat table-like area backed by high cliffs with gigantic
boulders at their base. The other party went right on up a narrow
gully with the intention of inspecting a guano patch at the far
side of the island. We remained here for a short space whilst
Wilkins shot a number of birds and then followed up the hill. From
the ship we had thought that this would be easy going up a grassy
slope. We were sadly disillusioned, however, for the grass was
rank tussock and grew high above our heads, from six to ten feet
in length, and was extremely difficult to break through. Underfoot
the ground was rotten and soaking, and at every step it gave way
and we sank knee-deep and further. Mr. Wilkins kept shooting birds
on the way up, but we had great difficulty in finding them in the
grass. We were drenched to the skin by the time we arrived at the
top, where there was open land covered with small trees and loose
rocks and a peculiar round-bladed grass which grew in close tufts
very difficult to walk upon. Here more birds were shot, and we
started on the return journey, sliding down the soaking rotten
earth, stumbling blindly through the long grass and slipping into
the holes.
On reaching the bottom the party returned in the boat to the ship
without waiting for the geologists. The latter had crossed the col
to the northern slopes, finding, like the others, that the going was
very hard on account of the tussock grass. “These (grass reeds) grow
to about eight feet high,” says one of the party, “and are about half
an inch in diameter, and are so dense that a man five feet away is
invisible.” Examinations were made and survey work was carried out,
and when it was finished the party set off back to the landing-place.
Douglas writes:
... Upon reaching a small eminence we saw the _Quest_ steaming
around the north-east point. This was one of the few occasions
when she added to the picture and not, through the ugliness of
her lines, detracted from it. In the brilliant sunshine as she
came into the mouth of the passage between Nightingale and Middle
Islands, gently dipping in the north-east swell but still rolling,
she made a very pretty picture.
I suppose Douglas is right when he remarks that the _Quest_ is not
a beautiful ship, for her lines certainly cannot be described as
yacht-like. Yet as my affection for her grew she appeared more and
more beautiful in my eyes, till, thinking of her in retrospect, I have
almost a feeling of resentment at any such criticism. After all, beauty
is largely a matter of what we are educated to regard as such, and
our ideas change, as witness what are to us to-day the extraordinary
“fashions” of only fifty years ago! The _Quest_ is neither stately nor
graceful, but she certainly has a beauty of her own. What “she” has
not?
[Illustration: THE SETTLEMENT AT TRISTAN DA CUNHA FROM THE SEA
_Photo: Wilkins_]
[Illustration: VIEW OF THE SETTLEMENT FROM THE EAST
_Photo: Dr. Macklin_]
[Illustration: LANDING AT BIG BEACH, TRISTAN DA CUNHA
_Photo: Dr. Macklin_]
[Illustration: A TRISTAN BULLOCK CART
_Photo: Dr. Macklin_]
The geological party also was safely taken off, and we lay off for the
night about a mile from the land. In the morning I brought the ship
closer in and, feeling my way carefully with the hand-lead, proceeded
to the north of Nightingale Island. I was anxious to put Douglas ashore
on Middle Island, and sent off the boat with Jeffrey, Dell and the
three islanders. Douglas and Henry Green effected a landing, and in the
meantime I dropped anchor in the passage where we were in shelter, the
wind having come round to the west. Whilst waiting here we fished for
sharks, which abound in considerable quantity and of which we caught
several. They were of little use, but I have the sailor’s hatred of
these rapacious brutes and had no compunction in destroying as many of
them as my men could catch.
During the afternoon a strong wind blew up, and Jeffrey and Dell had
the greatest difficulty in getting in to the island to pick up the
party. During the more violent squalls they shipped oars and clung
to the kelp which grows about here in long, strong strands. Dell
describes this as the worst row he had ever experienced. They succeeded
eventually and returned with the party to the ship.
Weather conditions at this time of year are not very suitable for
carrying out an extensive survey and examination, and I was unable to
allow Douglas any great opportunity for accurate work. He made good use
of his few chances, however, and his observations are likely to prove
of value.
A landing (was effected) at the south-east corner (of Nightingale)
where a platform of lava extends from the foot of the low col
which forms the easiest passage to the north of the island. The
island is rectangular in plan, about one mile by three-quarters.
The south shore is bounded by fairly high cliffs, except for
one or two small platforms. The east shore is also high, and the
highest point of the island rises here in very steep slopes. The
col above mentioned is the low feature joining the high peak with
the other high points to the west and interior of the island. It
is probable that the island was once a volcano, as the central
depression and various agglomeritic occurrences would testify.
From the centre the island slopes down gradually towards the
north, ending in low cliffs of about thirty feet high.
Nightingale Island has a single sharp peak about 2,000 feet high.
Middle Island lies to the north, and is separated from it by a passage
half a mile in width. Douglas says:
... The island owes its existence to two causes—first the lavas
from Nightingale ... must have extended well to the north, and
secondly, there has been local out-welling of lava. The latter
lava is extremely hard and has formed the col which has resisted
the action of the sea. The first lava is so soft that it is easily
worn away, which accounts for its separation from Nightingale. The
island is comparatively small, being less than half a mile on its
longest axis. Being close to Nightingale its flora is similar.
The island does not rise higher than two hundred feet, and is
girt with vertical cliffs on the west, north and east sides. The
landing is at the south-east point, and there is a large cave at
the most southerly point.
The island of Stoltenhoff, a little more than half a mile distant,
is a huge flat-topped rock rising from the water for two hundred
feet. No landing possible. The island is probably an extension of
“Middle” to the north, but may represent another separate centre
of activity.
We remained at anchor for the night in the passage between Nightingale
and Middle Islands, and sailed at 4 A.M. for Inaccessible Island.
This island has been the scene of several shipwrecks, including that
of the _Blendon Hall_ in 1821. It does not belie its name, for as we
approached it certainly looked inaccessible enough. No low land is
apparent, and the whole rises sheer from the sea on every side. The
weather was so uncertain that when sending the party of scientists
ashore I gave instructions that stores sufficient for several days
should be taken in the boat in case it should be impossible to pick the
men up when we wanted to. The party took also biological and geological
gear, surveying instruments, two good Alpine axes and a coil of good
Alpine rope.
A landing was effected near the north-east corner, largely through the
help of the Tristan islanders, whose intimate local knowledge proved of
the greatest value during the whole time we spent about these islands.
The beach was steep and stony, and big curling seas were breaking on
it. Intervals of comparative calm occur, and by taking advantage of
them a boat can be fairly easily beached. The landing effected and
the gear removed, the boat was hauled up whilst the party went about
their work. The beach is about a mile long and forms a very narrow
strip, behind which the cliffs rise vertically for an average height
of from three to four hundred feet. Half a mile to the south-east of
the landing-place a narrow waterfall drops in a cascade over the edge
of the cliff about three hundred and fifty feet up and has hollowed
out a deep pool below. The ascent to the summit lies beyond this, and
here Douglas, with John Glass and Henry Green, started the climb. These
two islanders are strong, active, nimble men and wonderful climbers.
Douglas gave them the greatest praise, and said that but for their
assistance he could never have attained the summit. On one occasion
during the descent they had to lower him over a particularly steep part
with the rope. Douglas writes:
Inaccessible Island is pear-shaped, the longer axis being about
three miles and the shorter two and a half miles. The land rises
around the island in almost vertical cliffs about five hundred
feet high. On the south and south-east there is a gradual slope up
to the highest point, which is about 1,500 feet above sea level.
On the north and north-west sides the rim continues to rise to
about 1,300 feet, and then it slopes down towards the interior and
the foot of the slope of the central cone. In fact, it is a great
caldera, with the southern side blown out and having a central
small cone.
The interior is really a beautiful landscape of broken country,
clad in verdure with a stream running through it.
Wilkins, assisted by Carr and Marr, carried out natural history
investigations on the lower slope and shot a number of birds for
preparation as museum specimens.
During the years 1871-73 two brothers, Germans named Stoltenhoff, lived
here. They gave their name to Stoltenhoff Island. Nightingale Island
derives its name from the British navigator who visited it in 1760.
All the islands of the Tristan da Cunha group have a similar flora
and fauna. They are covered in parts with tussock grass (_spartina
arundinacea_) and bracken. One small tree, the “Island tree” (_phylica
nitida_), grows at levels up to about 2,000 feet. The smaller plants
include twenty-nine species of flowering plants and twenty-six
ferns and lycopods. Numerous seabirds nest on the islands, including
mollymauks, terns, sea-hens or skua gulls, prions, black eaglets,
“Pediunkers,” and several kinds of petrel. On the rocky beaches we saw
a number of small land birds, one species of which resembled a thrush
and the other a finch. They were very tame and could be easily caught.
The islanders showed us several rookeries where rockhopper penguins
congregate in large numbers during the nesting season. The rockhopper
is a pretty bird with a crest of yellow and black feathers. Its call is
rather deep and harsh—“Alōh-ha!” as nearly as I can write it.
But for the difficulty of landing Inaccessible Island would be almost
as suitable a spot for a small settlement as Tristan da Cunha. A few
cattle are kept there. The islanders from Tristan make frequent visits
in their boats. Experience has taught them what are the most suitable
weather conditions for effecting a landing. It appears that the winds
follow a fairly definite cycle, and the islanders can predict with some
degree of certainty the conditions likely to be met with in the next
few days.
One has to give the islanders credit for their boatmanship, for their
craft are frail and require the most careful handling to prevent their
being stove in.
Of the men taken with us on the _Quest_, Henry Green and John Glass had
never been away from the islands. They were really two extremely nice
men. Douglas writes of Henry Green who accompanied him:
Henry proved to be a delightfully refreshing character. His simple
outlook on life, facts being facts to him and needing no reason,
the pride he took in his ability to climb and find his way over
the islands, notwithstanding his years, and his love of his own
hearth, marked him out as one of the best, if not the best, of
those who live on Tristan.
What a strange life they lead, passing day after day of their long
lives in this restricted environment with the same outlook, amongst
the same people and with only occasionally the sight of a new face,
which passing, never returns, for no one ever goes back to Tristan.
As Macklin shows, their longevity is remarkable; few seem to die under
ninety years of age.
I returned to the settlement via the southern side of Tristan to
enable Worsley to carry out a series of soundings, and arrived there
at daybreak on May 24th. We proceeded in through the kelp and came to
anchor.
I allowed most of the hands ashore for the day, and detailed a party
to install a portable wireless receiving apparatus which Mr. Rogers,
the missionary, had brought from Cape Town. One of the masts for the
aerials broke whilst being erected, and the pieces fell amongst a
crowd of islanders who had gathered to watch proceedings, causing them
to scamper wildly in all directions. Mr. Rogers told me that he had
not learned the code, and as there are several mechanical details to
be mastered it is doubtful if the apparatus is likely to be of great
value.
I was up before daybreak on May 25th, to find that the wind had come
round to the west and a strong swell had started to run into the
anchorage. I saw that the sooner we were off the better, and blew the
steam whistle for the recall of those who had spent the night ashore.
When I had told Glass on our arrival that I would be able to leave a
considerable amount of general supplies for the islanders, he had said
that he did not think they had stock enough on the island to pay for
it. When I replied that I did not require any payment, he was most
agreeably surprised, and promised to send us two or three good sheep
and some fresh potatoes. I had also asked for a number of geese and
poultry with the idea of placing them on Gough Island in the hope that
they would settle there and breed.
The blowing of the steam whistle caused the most marked excitement
amongst the islanders, who came rushing to their boats, which they
launched, and, having rowed out to us, crowded aboard in dozens.
Immediately there was a noise like babel let loose. Many of them
approached Bob Glass, saying: “Can’t you get nothing more out of them,
Bob?” As I had emptied the holds and stripped the ship of everything
I could spare, and in the name of Mr. Rowett given all the relief I
could to these people, I was not very well pleased at their attitude.
On my asking for the sheep and potatoes and the live stock for Gough
Island they suddenly remembered that they owed us something in return,
and dragged up from the bottom of the boat what looked for all the
world like two large and skinny rabbits. They proved to be sheep, the
most miserable creatures I had ever set eyes on. They dumped aboard
also two bags of potatoes which in size resembled marbles and some
very indifferent-looking geese and poultry. They seemed to lose all
restraint and begged for anything which caught their eye or their
fancy, each man trying to get in his request before his neighbour or
endeavouring to overshout him. There were no longer any requests on
behalf of the community, each man trying to scrounge what he could
for himself. A boatload containing some of the steadier men brought
off six bags of mail, six bales of feathers and about nine bags of
potatoes. These were dumped over our rail, and when I sent Macklin to
find out what it was they had put aboard, they replied that they were
parcels which they wished delivered to their friends in Cape Town who
would send them something in return. These casual folk had made no
arrangements and had not even addressed them sufficiently.
Rain had started to fall and Macklin, who knowing nothing of their
coming had not prepared a place for them in the hold, turned to a
group of the islanders and asked for some help to put the bales in the
shelter of the alleyway, where they would be protected from the rain.
Not a man stirred, each saying it had nothing to do with him. Macklin
had to search out each man in turn to help with his own bag for none
of them would touch anything that did not belong to him personally. We
were all thoroughly disgusted with their behaviour, and on this last
morning they undid any good impression we had gained of them whilst
ashore.
One group of men brought me some bundles of whalebone which they asked
me to buy for twenty pounds. As I had no idea of the value of the stuff
I could not do it, but offered to take it to Cape Town and hand it
over for disposal and have the value sent them in general goods. This
arrangement they regarded with suspicion and tried hard to induce me to
barter with them. It was a curious thing that all the islanders seemed
to think that we had a mysterious bottomless store from which we could
go on supplying quantities of pipes, tobacco, foodstuffs, etc. etc.,
in exchange for the most valueless trash. Knowing that as a community
they stood in great need of copper nails for their boats I offered them
a seven-pound bag, our all, which we could ill spare. No one man would
burden himself with this on behalf of the community and it was finally
left aboard.
I made full allowances for the limitations of these people, but at last
they became so troublesome that I ordered them back to their boats
and got ready to put to sea. Just before the last lot left some of
the older men came to me and thanked me for what we had been able to
do. They included Henry Green, John Glass, Tom Rogers, Old Sam Swaine
and Lavarello, the Italian. I told them that they must not thank me
altogether, for they owed what I had given them to a man named John
Rowett far across the sea in England. John Glass said in his high
piping voice: “You will see Mr. Rowett again? Then tell him that he is
the koindest man that I ever know.” I promised I would. Bob Glass also
brought me a letter which he wanted me to send to Mr. Rowett for him.
In return I thanked them, etc. etc. Just before leaving I received a
long letter from the missionary Mr. Rogers, in which he expressed the
appreciation of the islanders and sent a message of gratitude to Mr.
Rowett.
Though very disgusted at the time with the behaviour of these people, I
felt on more mature consideration that one could not fairly judge them
by instances like this. They are ignorant, shut off almost completely
from the world, horribly limited in outlook, and they realized that at
this moment there was slipping away from them the only possible source
of acquiring the many things they so badly needed. Indeed, looking back
on the whole visit to Tristan da Cunha, I am surprised that they were
not much more wild and uncivilized than we found them, and they were, I
believe, at any rate the older men among them, really grateful for what
we had been able to do.
I think their characters may be somewhat roughly summed up by
describing them as “a lot of grown-up children.”