FROM PUNTA ARENAS TO USHUAIA, THROUGH THE FUEGIAN CHANNELS
USHUAIA, Dec. 28, 1897.
After spending a fortnight at Punta Arenas, restocking and refitting
the ship, studying the surrounding regions, and accepting the warm
hospitality of the citizens, we tipped our anchor at midnight of
December 14th. We then set a course almost due south for Famine Reach.
The little gunboat _Torro_, detailed by the Chilean officials,
escorted us for several hours. The early part of the night was clear,
which permitted us to see Sandy Point, with its glittering sheet-iron
houses, for a long time. In the morning we were off the northern
shore of Dawson Island, and from this time until we reached Ushuaia
the weather was extremely unsettled. Cold rains, drizzling fogs, and
sweeping squalls of wind were the normal weather conditions. At 2
o’clock in the afternoon we anchored in Hope Harbour, a snug little
cove at the entrance of Magdalene Sound. We soon assembled in small
companies and went ashore to explore as best we could the regions
about. Everything here had for us a special interest, for, in a
scientific sense, all was unexplored. There were glaciers, unsealed
mountain heights, unknown water depths, and a savage wilderness of
land, with gold in many streams. We should have enjoyed a prolonged
stay here but the time for exploration in the more icy south was
already far advanced, and since this was the principal part of our work
we must hasten to it. The afternoon was given to examinations ashore.
The narrow beaches were lined with mussel shells and in one place
there were two bee-hive shaped frames of old Indian huts. There were a
great many birds about, but we saw no large life. Where the land was
so exposed that the vegetation was sheltered from the sudden squalls
of winds, here called “williwaws,” there was a forest of large beech
trees, and under these there was such a rank profusion of underbrush
and moss that it was difficult, generally impossible, to force a
passage. Near the open blast of the regular winds and the williwaws the
land was mostly barren of trees but covered by a thick, velvety carpet
of wet moss. It rained and snowed nearly all the time we were ashore,
and we came back with our boots full of icy water, our clothing torn,
soaked, and hanging to us like wet leather, and our heads bruised.
We had made some notes and some studies, but altogether our personal
discomforts were such that we were ready to throw science to the dogs.
He who attempts to properly explore this region will find conditions to
try his patience nearly as bad as at either pole.
On the following morning we steamed through Magdalene Sound. The scene
was desolate but wildly beautiful. The westerly banks rose out of
the waters with an easy slope, terminating in low hills of polished
stones. The ravines, the gullies, and the shore-line were covered by
a dense growth of stunted beech. The uplands, where soil and rooting
surface was possible, were carpeted by heavy sheets of moss. The
easterly banks, though far more barren, were of greater interest to
us. Nine glaciers poured their crystal currents down from the majestic
heights of Mount Sarmiento which was draped in a white mist. The
glaring whiteness of these glaciers, separated by black weather-worn
dome-shaped mountains of solid rock, made a scene of rare delight. At
11 o’clock we rounded Cape Turn, and then the interesting polished
rocky slopes of the banks and islands of Cockburn Channel lay before
us. Here we felt the disturbing influences of the airs coming out of
the Pacific. A violent puff of wind struck us as we passed each break
in continuity of the mountains, and this was followed by a rain squall
and a choppy sea. We were indeed glad when we turned our backs to this
region of battling storms to enter the less dreadful channels eastward.
At 6 o’clock we were amid a labyrinth of uncharted islands in Whale
Boat Sound. Severe storms came here also, and these, with frequent
clouds of fog and increasing darkness, made navigation uncomfortable
and dangerous. At midnight we dropped anchor on the eastern bank of
Basket Island; but the bottom was rocky and both the wind and the sea
were too dangerous to remain, so at 3 o’clock in the morning we started
again to plod along as best we could. The chart was so imperfect
that we were compelled to pick our way, as if exploring regions
entirely new. We counted not less than twenty islands which we could
not find on the charts. It would have been interesting also to linger
here and explore this locality but we had a stronger interest ever
pulling us on to regions farther south. As the sun rose and we advanced
farther eastward, the atmospheric conditions were such that rainbows,
complete and in fragments, were in the south and west almost constantly
for several hours. The bows were generally arched over a chain of
islands touched by bands of green and brown and gold, and altogether
the effect was full of delightful colour and fascinating harmony.
[Illustration: An Ona Home.]
[Illustration: Onas on the March.]
At noon we anchored at the eastern end of Whale Boat Sound in a small
bay on the northern shore of Londonderry Island. Soon after dinner we
went ashore to bag specimens for the laboratory. The land around the
bay is about a thousand feet high, rising rather abruptly from the
waters, but the mountain crests are everywhere accessible. As we landed
we found close to the water-line a number of old Indian fireplaces
with great heaps of mussel shells about. These were the sites of
ancient Indian huts. The lowlands were covered by a thick meshwork of
vegetation, mostly mosses and grass. In sheltered places there were
a few beech trees, but the tallest were not more than fifteen feet
high. We had not ascended very far when we found everywhere evidences
that the whole land had at one time been covered by glaciers. Massive
boulders were seen in lines, and all the rocks were polished and
scratched in a typically glacial manner. There were many lakes which
marked the beds of old glaciers. Before dark we came down from the
heights with our bags full of specimens and our note-books full of
observations, but our clothing as usual was wet and torn. Near the
shore we built a camp-fire, and then tried to dry our clothing and
extract such comfort out of life as Indians, in a similar position, do.
I think it was Darwin who said that the people of this region did not
enjoy any of the comforts of home. Certainly he never built a fire in a
cold, drizzling rain, and sat beside it to eat his lunch. If he had, he
should have learned to enjoy the first comfort of the home of primitive
man. We spent a few days in this neighbourhood, visited a glacier, and
then steamed through the northern arm of Beagle Channel to Ushuaia,
where we anchored late in the evening of December 21. After breakfast
on the following morning we went ashore. The manner of our going was a
matter of some anthropological interest. It portrayed our developing
disregard for formality and our resignation to the savage life to which
a constant force of circumstances drove us. At Rio we were done up in
good style before we left the ship; dress suits when necessary, the
newest thing in neckties, and neatly pressed trousers. At Montevideo
our garments were crinkled and showed the effects of the sea. We began,
here, to be a little indifferent in personal appearances. At Punta
Arenas we did not even try to fix up, but walked about the town as
careless of dress as bricklayers; and here at Ushuaia, well--the man
who dressed and brushed his hair was an outcast; he was not regarded
as an explorer.
[Illustration: Ona Archery.]
Ushuaia is a small town of about twenty-five sheet-iron houses, built
at the base of the terminating hills of the Cordilleras. The background
of the town is savagely picturesque. Two chains of mountains run
eastward parallel to each other along the southern border of the main
island of Tierra del Fuego, and these mountains give the surroundings
of Ushuaia a remarkably wild but pleasing effect. The town has in
itself very little of importance. It is a military and convict
station for the Argentine Republic, and at present there is a pier in
construction from which vessels can coal.
The government of the Argentine Republic with commendable liberality
offered us coal and supplies free of cost at their stations. At
Lapataia, a neighbouring town, the _Belgica_ remained a week to
coal. At Ushuaia and at Harbourton, we took in our last supply of fresh
provisions. We were indebted to the Argentine government for the kind
treatment at her hands, and to Mr. John Lawrence and Mr. Thomas Bridges
(now deceased) and their families, for valuable aid in furnishing
supplies and help in making Indian studies. It will not be possible to
give more than a passing notice of our work among the very interesting
tribes of Indians of this region. The anthropological observations,
measurements and vocabularies will be given separate publication. For
the present, the reader must be content with a few notes on the Onas.