contrary wind, which was attended with violent squalls, rain, and hail.
On the 12th in the afternoon, we hoisted out a boat, in order to go on
shore on the isle of Elizabeth[69]. We landed in the N. E. part of the
island. Its coasts are high and steep, except at the S. W. and S. E.
points, where the shore is low. However, one may land in every part of
it, as there is always a small slip of flat land under the high
perpendicular shores. The soil of the isle is very dry; we found no
other water than that of a little pool in the S. W. part of the isle,
but it was very brackish. We likewise saw several dried marshes, where
the earth is in some places covered with a thin crust of salt. We found
some bustards, but they were in small number, and so very shy, that we
were never able to come near enough to shoot them: they were however
sitting on their eggs. It appears that the savages come upon this
island. We found a dead dog, some marks of fire places, and the remnants
of shells, the fish of which had been feasted upon. There is no wood on
it, and a small sort of heath is the only thing that may be used as
fuel. We had already collected a quantity of it, fearing to be obliged
to pass the night on this isle, where the bad weather kept us till nine
of the clock in the evening: we should have been both ill lodged and ill
fed on it.
-----
Footnote 58:
Chaines de haubans.
Footnote 59:
Cap des Vierges, called Cape Virgin Mary by Lord Anson and Sir John
Narborough. F.
Footnote 60:
74° 25′; Paris being 2° 25′ E. from London: vide Ferguson’s Tables. F.
Footnote 61:
From Cape Virgin, till to the entrance of the first _goulet_, we may
reckon 14 or 15 leagues; and the straits are in every part of this
interval, between five and seven leagues wide. The north coast, as far
as Cape Possession, is uniform, but little elevated, and very healthy.
From this cape onward, one must be careful to avoid the rocks, which
are situated in a part of the bay of the same name. When the hillocks,
which I have named the _Quatre fils Aymond_,[62] only offer two to
sight, in form of a gate, you are then opposite the said rocks.
Footnote 62:
These rocks are called _Ass’s Ears_, by Sir John Narborough. F.
Footnote 63:
When one intends to enter the first gut, or narrow passage in the
straits, it is proper to coast within a league of Cape Possession;
then to steer S. by W. taking care not to fall off too much to the
south, on account of the rocks which extend N. N. E. and S. S. W. from
Cape Orange, more than three leagues.
Footnote 64:
The first gut lies N. N. E. and S. S. W. and is not above three
leagues long. Its breadth varies from a league, to a league and a
half. I have already given notice of the ledge of rocks at Cape
Orange. At coming out of the first gut, you meet with two lesser
rocks, extended on each of its extremities. They both project to S. W.
There is a great depth of water in the gut.
Footnote 65:
This is to be understood in French measure, in which the French foot
exceeds the English by ,788 of an inch; accordingly, in French
measure, 5 feet 6 inches = 5 feet, 10,334, inches English; and French
5 feet 10 inches are = 6 feet, 2,5704, inches English. F.
Footnote 66:
A mer étale.
Footnote 67:
The distance between the W. point or end of the first gut, and the
entrance of the second, is about six or seven leagues, and the breadth
of the straits there is likewise about seven leagues. The second gut
lies N. E. by E. and S. W. by W. it is about a league and a half
broad, and three or four long.
Footnote 68:
In passing the second gut, it is necessary to keep along the coast of
Patagonia, because, when you come out of the gut, the titles run
southward, and you must be careful to avoid a low point, projecting
below the head-land of St George’s isle, and though this apparent cape
is high and steep, the low land advances far to W. N. W.
Footnote 69:
The isle of Elizabeth[70] lies N. N. E. and S. S. W. with the west
point of the second gut, on the Patagonian side. The isles of St.
Barthelemi (St. Bartholomew) and of Lions likewise, lie N. N. E. and
S. S. W. between them and the west point of the second gut on St.
George’s island.
Footnote 70:
The French call it Sainte Elizabeth. F.
-----
_CHAP. IX._
_The run from the isle of Elizabeth, through the Straits of Magalhaens.
Nautical details on this navigation._
We were now going to enter the woody part of the the straits of
Magalhaens; and the first difficult steps were already made.
[Sidenote: Difficulties of the navigation along the isle of Elizabeth.]
It was not till the 13th in the afternoon, the wind being N. W. that we
weighed, notwithstanding the force with which it blew, and made sail in
the channel, which separates the isle of Elizabeth from the isles of St.
Barthelemi and of Lions[71]. We were forced to carry sail; though there
were almost continually very violent squalls coming off the high land of
Elizabeth island; along which we were obliged to sail, in order to avoid
the breakers, which extend around the other two isles[72]. The tide in
this channel sets to the southward, and seemed very strong to us. We
came near the shore of the main-land, below Cape Noir; here the coast
begins to be covered with woods; and its appearance from hence is very
pleasant. It runs southward; and the tides here are not so strong as in
the above place.
[Sidenote: Bad weather, and disagreeable night.]
It blew very fresh and squally, till six o’clock in the evening; when it
became calm and moderate. We sailed along the coast, at about a league’s
distance, the weather being clear and serene; flattering ourselves to be
able to double Cape Round during night; and then to have, in case of bad
weather, Port Famine to leeward. But these projects were frustrated;
for, at half an hour after mid-night, the wind shifted all at once to S.
W. the coast became foggy; the continual and violent squalls brought
rain and hail with them; and, in short, the weather soon became as foul,
as it had been fair the moment before. Such is the nature of this
climate; the changes of weather are so sudden and frequent, that it is
impossible to foresee their quick and dangerous revolutions.
Our main-sail having been split, when in the brails, we were forced to
ply to windward, under our fore-sail, main-stay-sail, and close-reefed
top-sails, endeavouring to double Point St. Anne, and to take shelter in
Port Famine. This required our gaining a league to windward; which we
could never effect. As our tacks were short, and being obliged to wear,
a strong current was carrying us into a great inlet in Terra del Fuego;
we lost three leagues in nine hours on this manœuvre, and were obliged
to go along the coast in search of anchorage to leeward. [Sidenote: We
anchor in Bay Duclos.] We ranged along it, and kept sounding
continually; and, about eleven o’clock in the morning, we anchored a
mile off shore, in eight fathom and a half, oozy sand, in a bay, which I
named Bay Duclos[74]; from the name of M. Duclos Guyot, a captain of a
fire-ship, who was the next in command after me on this voyage; and
whose knowledge and experience have been of very great use to me.
[Sidenote: Description of this bay.]
This bay is open to the eastward, and its depth is very inconsiderable.
Its northern point projects more into the sea, than the southern one;
and they are about a league distant from each other. The bottom is very
good in the whole bay; and there is every where six or eight fathom of
water, within a cable’s length from the shore. This is an excellent
anchorage; because the westerly winds, which prevail here, blow over the
coast, which is very high in this part. Two little rivers discharge
themselves into the bay; the water is brackish at their mouth, but very
good five hundred yards above it. A kind of meadow lies along the
landing-place, which is sandy. The woods rise behind it in form of an
amphitheatre; but the whole country seems entirely without animals. We
have gone through a great track of it, without finding more than two or
three snipes, some teals, ducks, and bustards in very small number: we
have likewise perceived some _perrokeets_[75]; the latter are not afraid
of the cold weather.
[Sidenote: New observations on the tides.]
At the mouth of the most southerly river, we found seven huts, made of
branches of trees, twisted together, in form of an oven; they appeared
to have been lately built, and were full of calcined shells, muscles,
and limpets. We went up a considerable way in this river, and saw some
marks of men. Whilst we were on shore, the tide rose one foot, and the
flood accordingly came from east, contrary to the observations we had
made after doubling Cape Virgin; having ever since seen the water rise
when the tide went out of the straits. But it seems to me, after several
observations, that having passed the guts, or narrows, the tides cease
to be regular in all that part of the straits, which runs north and
south. The number of channels, which divide Terra del Fuego in this
part, seem necessarily to cause a great irregularity in the motion of
the water. During the two days which we passed in this anchoring-place,
the thermometer varied from eight to five degrees. On the 15th, at noon,
we observed 53° 20′ of latitude there; and that day we employed our
people in cutting wood; the calm not permitting us then to set sail.
[Sidenote: Nautical observations.]
Towards night the clouds seemed to go to westward, and announced us a
favourable wind. We hove a-peek upon our anchor; and, actually, on the
16th, at four o’clock in the morning, the breeze blowing from the point
whence we expected it, we set sail. The sky, indeed, was cloudy; and, as
is usual in these parts, the east and north-east winds, accompanied with
fog and rain. We passed Point St. Anne[76] and Cape Round[77]. The
former is a table-land, of a middling height; and covers a deep bay,
which is both safe and convenient for anchoring. It is that bay, which,
on account of the unhappy fate of the colony of Philippeville,
established by the presumptuous Sarmiento, has got the name of _Port
Famine_. Cape Round is a high land, remarkable on account of the figure
which its name expresses; the shores, in all this tract, are woody and
steep; those of Terra del Fuego appear cut through by several straits.
Their aspect is horrible; the mountains there are covered with a blueish
snow, as old as the creation. Between Cape Round and Cape Forward there
are four bays, in which a vessel may anchor.
[Sidenote: Description of a singular cape.]
Two of these are separated from each other by a cape; the angularity of
which fixed our attention, and deserves a particular description. This
cape rises upwards of a hundred and fifty feet above the level of the
sea; and consists entirely of horizontal strata, of petrified shells. I
have been in a boat to take the soundings at the foot of this monument,
which marks the great changes our globe has undergone; and I have not
been able to reach the bottom, with a line of a hundred fathom.
[Sidenote: Description of Cape Forward.]
The wind brought us to within a league and a half of Cape Forward; we
were then becalmed for two hours together. I profited of this time, to
go in my pinnace, near Cape Forward, to take soundings and bearings.
This cape is the most southerly point of America, and of all the known
continents. From good observations we have determined its south lat. to
be 54° 5′ 45″. It shews a surface with two hillocks, extending about
three quarters of a league; the eastern hillock being higher than the
western one. The sea is almost unfathomable below the cape; however,
between the two hillocks or heads, one might anchor in a little bay
provided with a pretty considerable rivulet, in 15 fathom, sand and
gravel; but this anchorage being dangerous in a southerly wind, ought
only to serve in a case of necessity. The whole cape is a perpendicular
rock, whose elevated summit is covered with snow. However, some trees
grow on it; the roots of which are fixed in the crevices, and are
supplied with perpetual humidity. We landed below the cape at a little
rock, where we found it difficult to get room for four persons to stand
on. On this point, which terminates or begins a vast continent, we
hoisted the colours of our boat; and these wild rocks resounded, for the
first time, with the repeated shouts of _vive le Roi_. From hence we set
out for Cape Holland, bearing W. 4° N. and accordingly the coast begins
here to run northward again.
[Sidenote: Anchoring in Bay Françoise.]
We returned on board at six o’clock in the evening; and soon after the
wind veering to S. W. I went in search of the harbour, which M. de
Gennes named the French Bay (_Baie Françoise_). At half an hour past
eight o’clock we anchored there in ten fathom, sandy and gravelly
bottom; between the two points of the bay, of which the one bore N. E.
½E. and the other S. ½W. and the little island in the middle, N. E. As
we wanted to take in water and wood for our course across the Pacific
Ocean, and the remaining part of the straits was unknown to me; being in
my first voyage, come no further than near Bay Françoise, I resolved to
take in those necessaries here; especially as M. de Gennes represents it
very safe and convenient for this purpose: accordingly that very evening
we hoisted all our boats out. [Sidenote: Advice with regard to this
harbour.] During night the wind veered all round the compass; blowing in
very violent squalls; the sea grew high, and broke round us upon a sand,
which seemed to ly all round the bottom of the bay. The frequent turns,
which the changes of the wind caused our ship to make round her anchor,
gave us room to fear that the cable might be foul of it; and we passed
the night under continual apprehensions.
The Etoile lying more towards the offing than we did, was not so much
molested. At half past two in the morning, I sent the little boat to
sound the mouth of the river, to which M. de Gennes has given his name.
It was low water; and the boat did not get into the river, without
running a-ground upon a sand at its mouth; at the same time they found,
that our large boats could only get up at high-water; and thus could
hardly make above one trip a day. This difficulty of watering, together
with the anchorage not appearing safe to me, made me resolve to bring
the ships into a little bay, a league to the eastward of this. I had
there, without difficulty, in 1765, taken a loading of wood for the
Malouines, and the crew of the ship had given it my name. I wanted
previously to go and be sure, whether the crews of both ships could
conveniently water there. I found, that besides the rivulet, which falls
into the bottom of the bay itself; and which might be adapted for the
daily use, and for washing, the two adjoining bays had each a rivulet
proper to furnish us easily with as much water as we wanted; and without
having above half a mile to fetch it.
In consequence of this, we sailed on the 17th, at two o’clock in the
afternoon, with our fore and mizen-top-sails. We passed without the
little isle, in Bay Françoise; and, afterwards, we entered into a very
narrow pass, in which there is deep water, between the north point of
this bay and a high island, about half a quarter of a league long. This
pass leads to the entrance of Bougainville’s bay; which is, moreover,
covered by two other little isles; the most considerable of which, has
deserved the name of Isle of the Observatory, (_Islot de
l’Observatoire_)[78].
The bay is two hundred toises[79] long, and fifty deep; high mountains
surround it, and secure it against all winds; and the sea there is
always as smooth as in a bason.
[Sidenote: We anchor in Bay Bougainville.]
We anchored at three o’clock in the entrance of the bay, in twenty-eight
fathom of water; and we immediately sent our tow-lines on shore, in
order to warp into the bottom of the bay. The Etoile having let go her
off anchor in too great a depth of water, drove upon the Isle of the
Observatory; and before she could haul-tight the warps which she had
sent a-shore, to steady her, her stern came within a few feet of this
little isle, though she had still thirty fathom of water. The N. E. side
of this isle is not so steep. We spent the rest of the day in mooring,
with the head towards the offing, having one anchor a-head in
twenty-three fathom oozy sand; a kedge-anchor a-stern, almost close to
the shore; and two hawsers fastened to the trees on the larboard-side;
and two on board the Etoile, which was moored as we were. Near the
rivulet we found two huts, made of branches, which seemed to have been
abandoned long ago. In 1765 I got one of bark constructed there, in
which I left some presents for the Indians, which chance might conduct
thither; and at the top of it I placed a white flag: we found the hut
destroyed; the flag, with the presents, being carried off.
On the 18th, in the morning, I established a camp on shore, in order to
guard the workmen, and the various effects which we landed; we likewise
sent all our casks on shore, to refit them and prepare them with
sulphur; we made pools of water for the use of those who were employed
in washing, and hauled our long-boat a-shore, because she wanted a
repair. We passed the remainder of December in this bay, where we
provided ourselves with wood; and even with planks at our ease. Every
thing facilitated this work: the roads were ready made through the
woods; and there were more trees cut down than we wanted, which was the
work of the Eagle’s crew in 1765. Here we likewise heeled ship,
boot-topped and mounted eighteen guns. The Etoile had the good fortune
to stop her leak; which, since her departure from Montevideo, was grown
as considerable as before her repair at the Encenada. By bringing her by
the stern, and taking off part of the sheathing forward, it appeared
that the water entered at the scarsing of her stern. This was remedied;
and it was during the whole voyage, a great comfort to the crew of that
vessel, who were almost worn out by the continual exercise of pumping.
[Sidenote: Observations astronomical and meteorological.]
M. Verron, in the first days, brought his instruments upon the Isle of
the Observatory; but past most of his nights there in vain. The sky of
this country, which is very bad for astronomers, prevented his making
any observation for the longitude; he could only determine by three
observations with the quadrant, that the south latitude of the little
isle is 53° 50′ 25″. He has likewise determined the flowing of the tide
in the entrance to the bay, at 00^h 59′. The water never rose here above
ten feet. During our stay here the thermometer was generally between 8°
and 9°, it fell once to 5°, and the highest it ever rose to was 12½°.
The sun then appeared without clouds, and its rays, which are but little
known here, melted part of the snow that lay on the mountains of the
continent. M. de Commerçon, accompanied by the prince of Nassau,
profited of such days for botanizing. He had obstacles of every kind to
surmount, yet this wild soil had the merit of being new to him, and the
straits of Magalhaens have filled his herbals with a great number of
unknown and interesting plants. [Sidenote: Description of this part of
the straits.] We were not so successful in hunting and fishing, by which
we never got any thing, and the only quadruped we saw here, is a fox,
almost like an European one, which was killed amidst the workmen.
We likewise made several attempts to survey the neighbouring coasts of
the continent, and of Terra del Fuego; the first was fruitless. I set
out on the 22d at three o’clock in the morning with Mess. de Bournand
and du Bouchage, intending to go as far as Cape Holland, and to visit
the harbours that might be found on that part of the coast. When we set
out it was calm and very fine weather. An hour afterwards, a light
breeze at N. W. sprung up, but immediately after, the wind shifted to S.
W. and blew very fresh. We strove against it for three hours together,
under the lee of the shore, and with some difficulty got into the mouth
of a little river, which falls into a sandy creek, covered by the
eastern head of Cape Forward. We put in here, hoping that the foul
weather would not last long. This hope served only to wet us thoroughly
by the rain, and to make us quite chilled with cold. We made us a hut of
branches of trees in the woods, in order to pass the night there a
little more under shelter. These huts serve as palaces to the natives of
these climates; but we had not yet learnt their custom of living in
them. The cold and wet drove us from our lodging, and we were obliged to
have recourse to a great fire, which we took care to keep up,
endeavouring to shelter us against the rain, by spreading the sail over
us which belonged to our little boat. The night was dreadful, wind and
rain encreased, and we could do nothing else but return at break of day.
We arrived on board our frigate at eight of the clock in the morning,
happy to have been able to take shelter there; for the weather became so
much worse soon after, that we could not have thought of coming back
again. During two days there was a real tempest, and the mountains were
all covered with snow again. However, this was the very middle of
summer, and the sun was near eighteen hours above the horizon.
[Sidenote: Discovery of several ports on Terra del Fuego.]
Some days after I undertook a new course, more successfully, for
visiting part of Terra del Fuego, and to look for a port there, opposite
Cape Forward; I then intended to cross the straits to Cape Holland, and
to view the coasts from thence till we came to Bay Françoise, which was
what we could not do on our first attempt. I armed the long boat of the
Boudeuse, and the Etoile’s barge, with swivel guns and muskets, and on
the 27th, at four o’clock in the morning, I went from on board with
Messrs. de Bournand, d’Oraison, and the prince of Nassau. We set sail at
the west point of Bay Françoise, in order to cross the straits to Terra
del Fuego, where we landed about ten o’clock, at the mouth of a little
river, in a sandy creek, which is inconvenient even for boats. However,
in a case of necessity, the boats might go up the river at high water,
where they would find shelter. We dined on its banks, in a pleasant
wood, under the shade of which were several huts of the savages. From
this station, the western point of Bay Françoise bore N. W. by W. ½W.
and we reckoned ourselves five leagues distant from it.
After dinner we proceeded by rowing along the coast of Terra del Fuego;
it did not blow much from the westward, but there was a hollow sea. We
crossed a great inlet, of which we could not see the end. Its entrance,
which is about two leagues wide, is barred in the middle by a very high
island. The great number of whales which we saw in this part, and the
great rolling sea, inclined us to imagine that this might well be a
strait leading into the sea pretty near Cape Horn. [Sidenote: Meeting
with savages.] Being almost come to the other side, we saw several fires
appear, and become extinct; afterwards they remained lighted, and we
distinguished some savages upon the low point of a bay, where I intended
to touch. We went immediately to their fires, and I knew again the same
troop of savages which I had already seen on my first voyage in the
straits. We then called them _Pécherais_, because that was the first
word which they pronounced when they came to us, and which they repeated
to us incessantly, as the Patagonians did their _shawa_. For this reason
we gave them that name again this time. I shall hereafter have an
opportunity to describe these inhabitants of the wooded parts of the
strait. The day being upon the decline, we could not now stay long with
them. They were in number about forty, men, women, and children; and
they had ten or a dozen canoes in a neighbouring creek. We left them in
order to cross the bay, and enter into an inlet, which, the night coming
on, prevented us from executing. We passed the night on the banks of a
pretty considerable river, where we made a great fire, and where the
sails of our boats, which were pretty large, served us as tents; the
weather was very fine, although a little cold.
[Sidenote: Bay and port of Beaubassin.]