VALPARAISO TO TAHITI.
_The western sea was all aflame,_
_The day was well nigh done!_
_Almost upon the western wave_
_Rested the broad bright sun._
_Tuesday, October 31st_.--Throughout the night a flat calm prevailed.
The morning was wet and foggy, or we might still have seen Valparaiso,
and perhaps have had a peep at Aconcagua. There was a light contrary
wind from the N.W. throughout the day. In the afternoon we saw two
whales blowing in the distance.
_Wednesday, November 1st_.--An almost calm day, with a few light
showers, and fitful but unfavourable breezes. Some thirty or forty
little birds, which the sailors called Mother Carey's chickens, but
which were smaller and more graceful than any I have seen of that
name, followed closely in our wake. I was never tired of watching the
dainty way in which they just touched the tips of the waves with their
feet, and then started off afresh, like a little maiden skipping and
hopping along, from sheer exuberance of spirit.
_Thursday, November 2nd_.--A bright sunny morning, with a heavy swell
and light contrary wind, but the sea became more tranquil towards the
evening. The sunset was superb, and the afterglow, as is often the
case in these latitudes, lighted up sky and sea with an indescribable
beauty, which attained its greatest magnificence about five minutes
after the sun had disappeared, reminding one of the glorious sunsets
of the African deserts, so often described by travellers.
_Friday, November 3rd_.--Still a blue sky, bright sunshine, smooth
sea, and light head-wind. The crew have all turned tailors, and are
making themselves new suits from some dungaree we bought at
Valparaiso, the clothes we expected for them not having met us there.
[Illustration: Juvenile Scrubbers.]
_Saturday, November 4th_.--As fine as ever. This is certainly sailing
luxuriously, if not swiftly. We have now settled down into our regular
sea-ways, and have plenty to do on board; so the delay does not much
signify. Still, our time is limited, and we all hope to fall in with
the trades shortly to carry us to Tahiti or some of the South Sea
islands. We caught half-a-dozen of the little petrels, for stuffing,
by floating lines of black cotton astern, in which they became
entangled.
To-night's sunset was more superb than ever. Each moment produced a
new and ever increasingly grand effect. I mean to try and take an
instantaneous photograph of one. It would not, of course, reproduce
all the marvellous shades of colouring, but it would perhaps give some
idea of the forms of the masses of cloud, which are finer than any I
ever saw before. This ocean seems to give one, in a strange way, a
sense of solemn vastness, which was not produced to the same extent by
the Atlantic. Whether this results from our knowledge of its size, or
whether it is only fancy, I cannot say, but it is an impression which
we all share.
_Sunday, November 5th_.--Fine, and considerably hotter, though not
unpleasantly so. We had the Litany at eleven, and evening prayers and
a sermon at four o'clock. Not a single ship has passed within sight
since we left Valparaiso, and the only living creatures we have seen
are some albatrosses, a few white boobies, a cape-hen, the little
petrels already mentioned, a shoal of porpoises, and two whales.
_Monday, November 6th_.--Passed, at 3 a.m. to-day, a large barque,
steering south, and at 8 a.m. a full-rigged ship, steering the same
course. We held--as we do with every ship we pass--a short
conversation with her through the means of the mercantile code of
signals. (This habit of exchanging signals afterwards proved to have
been a most useful practice, for when the report that the 'Sunbeam'
had gone down with all hands was widely circulated through England, I
might almost say the world,--for we found the report had preceded us
by telegram to almost all the later ports we touched at,--the anxiety
of our friends was relieved many days sooner than it would otherwise
have been by the fact of our having spoken the German steamer
'Sakhara,' in the Magellan Straits, Oct. 13, four days after we were
supposed to have gone to the bottom.) The weather continues fine, and
we have the same light baffling winds. We hoped, when we started, to
average at least 200 miles a day, but now we have been a week at sea,
and have only made good a little more than 700 miles altogether,
though we have sailed over 800 miles through the water. It is,
however, wonderful, in the opinion of the navigators, that we have
made even as much progress as this, considering the very adverse
circumstances under which the voyage has so far been performed, and we
must endeavour to console ourselves with the reflection that the
sailing qualities of the yacht have undergone another severe test in a
satisfactory manner. How the provisions and water will last out, and
what time we shall leave ourselves to see anything of Japan, are
questions which, nevertheless, occasionally present themselves to our
minds. Independently of such considerations, nothing could be more
luxurious and delightful than our present mode of existence. With
perfect weather, plenty of books to read and writing to do, no
possibility of interruptions, one can map out one's day and dispose of
one's time exactly as one pleases, until the half-past six o'clock
dressing-bell--which always seems to come long before it is
wanted--recalls one to the duties and necessities of life.
[Illustration: Conversation at Sea.]
_Wednesday, November 8th_.--A grey cloudy morning and a flat calm. At
twelve o'clock, to the great joy of everybody on board, Tom decided to
get up steam, as we have now been becalmed quite twenty-four hours,
and have made but little progress in the right direction for some
days. The alacrity with which the order to stow sails and raise the
funnel was obeyed--every one lending a hand--and the delight expressed
on every countenance, must have assured him of at least the popularity
of his decision.
Whilst we were waiting for steam to be got up, Tom took Muriel and me
for a row in the 'Flash,' his own particular little boat, with about
four inches of freeboard. The possibility of doing this will give you
a better idea of the tranquillity of this vast ocean than any
description I can write. At the same time, when we wanted to get into
the boat, we found there was a considerable roll on, and that it was
no easy matter without the aid of a gangway or ladder. We rowed a
little way from the yacht, and, considering how quiet it had seemed to
us when on board, it was wonderful to observe how she rolled in the
trough of the sea, without sails to steady her or motive power to
guide her. The Lota coals, though black and dirty beyond description,
burn up very quickly, and in about an hour we were steaming merrily
along, the Arabian horseshoe on our bowsprit's end being now pointed
direct for the island of Tahiti, instead of for wherever the wind
chose to blow us.
_Thursday, November 9th_.--A flat calm at 6 a.m.; a very light fair
wind at 9 a.m. In spite of my remonstrances, Tom determined, at
half-past nine, to cease steaming and try sailing again. About twelve
o'clock a puff came that sent us along at the rate of 10-1/2 knots for
a short time; but it soon dropped, and during the rest of the
afternoon and evening, our average speed was only three or four knots
an hour. This is very poor work for the trades, but I don't believe we
are really in them yet, in spite of the wind charts. It is possible
that they may vary in different years; besides which it is now the
height of summer, with the sun south of the line, which would
naturally make them lighter.
_Saturday, November 11th_.--At last we seem to be feeling the
influence of the trades, as the wind continues to blow from the same
direction, though it varies much in force. Sometimes we are going
along at the rate of 11-3/4 knots, sometimes barely five. In the
afternoon we had the usual Saturday singing practice.
_Sunday, November 12th_.--Another lovely day. We had the Litany and
hymns at eleven, evening service and sermon at four.
Just before morning church some one turned on the water in the nursery
bath, and forgot to turn it off again, so that when we came aft from
the saloon we had the pleasure of finding everything in the children's
cabins afloat, and that a good deal of water had got down into the
hold. It was rather annoying at the time, but, I dare say, like many
other present troubles, it was a good thing in the end. It obliged us,
at any rate, to have all the stores brought up on deck, and led to our
taking an inventory of our resources sooner than we should otherwise
have done. I am sorry to say we found that, owing to the departure of
our head steward and the illness of his successor, they have not been
husbanded as carefully as they should have been, especially those
provided for use forward. Sailors are more like children than grown-up
men, and require as much looking after. While there is water in the
tanks, for instance, they will use it in the most extravagant manner,
without thought for the morrow; and they are quite as reckless with
their other stores.
I find, however, that one of the drawbacks to taking a very close
personal interest in the housekeeping arrangements on board is the too
intimate acquaintance one makes with the various individuals composing
the live stock, the result being that the private particular history
of every chicken, duck, turkey, and joint of mutton is apt to be
remembered with a damaging effect to appetite.
In the afternoon two boobies, the first birds we have seen for some
days, paid us a visit. I suppose we are too far out to see anything
more of our pretty little friends, the petrels.
_Monday, November 13th_.--We had a regular turn-out and re-arrangement
of our stores to-day, and discovered that the waste and mismanagement
have been greater even than we at first supposed. Fortunately, we
found some spare tins of provisions stowed away under the nursery
floor and forgotten, and which will now come in very opportunely. But
I fear that, even as it is, we may be seriously inconvenienced before
getting to the end of our voyage. Of the six sheep, sixty chickens,
thirty ducks, and four dozen pigeons, brought on board alive at
Valparaiso, we have comparatively few left, and not a great deal to
give those few to eat; so we must depend mainly on our potted meats
and vegetables, which happen to be excellent. We often wonder how the
earlier navigators got on, when there were no such things as tinned
provisions, and when the facilities for carrying water were of the
poorest description, while they were often months and months at sea,
without an opportunity of replenishing their stores, and with no
steam-power to fall back upon in case they were becalmed. Still more
wonderful, in my opinion, is the successful manner in which the
Spaniards managed to convey their hordes in tiny vessels, together
with a sufficient quantity of forage for them, to the New World,
where, according to all accounts, they generally arrived in good
condition, fit to go to work or to war immediately.
The wind increased in the evening and blew dead aft. In the middle of
the night the mizen-halyards broke, and blocks and all came down with
a tremendous crash, which caused both Tom and me to rush up on deck.
About an hour and a half's work put everything straight again,
however, though it looked a sad mess at first. We had been remarking
at dinner how lucky we had been, with all this rolling about in calms
and running before the wind, not to have had anything carried away or
any of the ropes chafed. Personally, I think the accident is not to be
regretted, for now all the fore and aft canvas is stowed, and we are
running under square canvas alone, which is much steadier work, though
we still roll considerably.
_Tuesday, November 14th_.--Fine, with a strong fair wind. I have been
laid up for a few days with a touch of my old enemy, Syrian fever, but
am gradually recovering, and enjoy very much lying on deck and
reading.
Our victualling arrangements have now been satisfactorily settled, and
everybody has been put on an allowance of water, our supply of which
will last the whole ship's company of forty persons for five weeks,
leaving one tank still in reserve in case of accidents. As we expect
to reach our destination in about three weeks from the present time,
we have therefore, I hope, an ample supply for all our requirements.
_Wednesday, November 15th_.--Pleasant as we have found life at sea in
the South Pacific hitherto, it is, I fear, monotonous to read about,
and I dare say you will find it difficult to realise how quickly the
days fly past, and how sorry we are when each one comes to an end. I
am afraid they are among those things which do not repeat themselves.
At any rate, they afford a golden opportunity for reading, such as we
are not likely to have again often, if ever, in our busy lives; and
Tom and I are endeavouring to make the best use of it by getting
through as many of the seven hundred volumes we brought with us as
possible. The weather favours us in our endeavours to be industrious;
for, while it is sufficiently warm to indispose one for a very severe
course of study, it has never been so hot as to compel us to lie down
and do nothing but gasp for breath--which is what we were warned to
expect. There is indeed one slight drawback to the perfect enjoyment
of our present state of existence, and that is the incessant motion of
the vessel. When she rolls as quickly as she has done to-day, it is
difficult to settle down steadily to any occupation, and at last one
cannot help feeling aggravated at the persistent manner in which
everything, including one's self, refuses to be still for a single
instant.
_Thursday, November 16th_.--To-day it is really warm--not to say
hot--with a bright cloudless sky, which renders an awning acceptable.
We saw some 'bo's'n' birds for the first time, and more shoals of
flying-fish. I wish a few of the latter would come on board; they
would be an agreeable addition to our breakfast-table.
The rolling still continues, the wind being dead aft, and nothing but
our square canvas being set. The effect is rather wearisome, and one
longs to be able to say 'Catch hold of her head and keep her still, if
only for five minutes' peace and quietness!' Cooking is difficult, and
even eating is a hazardous occupation; and at our evening game of
cards we have to pocket our counters and markers and hold on as best
we can.
_Friday, November 17th_.--At 8 a.m. the course was altered, our
fore-and-aft canvas was set again, and we were once more gliding along
swiftly and smoothly through the water, to the great relief of every
one on board. The day was lovely, and though it was warm, a pleasant
breeze throughout the ship prevented our feeling uncomfortably hot.
_Saturday, November 18th_.--The days are so much alike that it is
difficult to find anything special to say about them. They fly so
quickly that I was surprised to be reminded by the usual
singing-practice this afternoon that another week had gone by.
The two green paroquets, 'Coco' and 'Meta,' given to me by Mr. Fisher
at Rosario, have turned out dear little pets, with the most amusing
ways. They are terrible thieves, especially of sugar, pencils, pens,
and paper, and being nearly always at liberty, they follow me about
just like dogs, and coax and caress me with great affection. They do
not care much for any one else, though they are civil to all and
good-tempered even to the children, who, I am afraid, rather bore them
with their attempts at petting. The other foreign birds, of which I
have a large collection, are doing well, and I begin to hope I shall
get them home safely after all. We had at one time about twenty
parrots, belonging to the men, on board, all running about on deck
forward, with their wings clipped, but about half of them have been
lost overboard. The dogs keep their health and spirits wonderfully.
Félise is quite young again, and she and Lulu have great games,
tearing up and down and around the decks as hard as they can go.
_Sunday, November 19th_.--I am convalescent at last, and appeared at
breakfast this morning for the first time for ten days.
The wind was very variable throughout the day. Between 6 and 7 a.m. we
were going twelve knots; between 7 and 8 only three; but as we never
stop, we manage to make up a fair average on the whole.
At eleven o'clock we had the Communion Service and two hymns. At
midday the week's work was made up, with the following result. Our
position was in lat. 15° 38' S., long. 117° 52' W.; we were 3,057
miles from Valparaiso,--1,335 of which had been accomplished since
last Sunday,--and 1,818 miles from Tahiti.
To-day we were not far from Easter Island, the southernmost island of
Polynesia. Here as in the Ladrones, far away in the north-west quarter
of the Pacific, most curious inscriptions are sometimes found carved
in stone. Annexed is a photograph taken from one I saw at a later
stage of the voyage.
[Illustration: Inscription from Easter Island]
The sails had been flapping, more or less, all day, and at the change
of the dog-watches, at six o'clock, Tom ordered the men aft to stow
the mizen. This they had scarcely begun to do when a light breeze
sprang up, and in a few minutes increased to a strong one, before
which we bowled along at the rate of nine knots. These sudden changes
are of constant occurrence, and, coming as they do without the
slightest warning, are quite inexplicable. If only we had our old
square sails, and our bigger yards and topmast, we should have saved a
good deal of time already; for one or two knots an hour extra amount
to from 25 to 50 miles a day, and in a month's run the difference
would not be far short of 1,500 miles. But we heard so much from
people in England, who had visited these parts, of squalls and
hurricanes, that Tom did not like to run the risk of being
over-sparred, especially with a wife and children as passengers.
_Monday, November 20th_.--The fore-and-aft sails were taken in, as
they were doing no good and the square canvas was drawing. This
allowed the mizen-awning to be spread, making a pleasant place to sit
in and a capital playground for the children, who scamper about all
day long, and do not appear to feel the heat a bit.
_Tuesday, November 21st_.--Certainly a _very_ hot day. We made steady
progress under the same canvas as yesterday.
_Wednesday, November 22nd_.--Between 2 and 3 a.m. a nice breeze sprang
up, and between 3 and 4.30 a.m. all the fore-and-aft sails were again
set. It was deliciously cool on deck at that time; but the sun rose
fierce and hot, and more or less killed the breeze as the day wore on.
_Thursday, November 23rd_.--Twenty-four days out. We had hoped to
reach Tahiti to-day, and Tom begins to regret that he did not steam
some distance out from Valparaiso, so as to pick up the trades sooner.
Still it is satisfactory to know how well the 'Sunbeam' can and does
sail against light contrary winds, and to have an opportunity of
developing some of her good points, of which we were previously hardly
aware. How she manages to slip along as she does, four or five knots
an hour, with not sufficient wind to blow a candle out, is a marvel to
every one on board. More than once, when the hand-log has shown that
we were going five knots, I have carried a naked light from one end of
the deck to the other without its being extinguished.
The sunrise was magnificent, and a splendid albatross, the largest we
have yet seen, was at the same time visible in mid-air, floating
against the rose-coloured clouds. He looked so grand, and calm, and
majestic, that one could almost fancy him the bird of Jove himself,
descending direct from the sun. Where do these birds rest? How far and
how fast do they really fly? are questions for the naturalist. We have
seen them many times at a distance of at least two thousand miles from
the nearest land.
About nine o'clock there was a slight breeze, but it fell as the sun
rose, and the day was intensely hot.
_Friday, November 24th_.--A fine breeze in the early morning, which,
however, gradually died away. Having now quitted the regular track of
the trade winds and got into the variables, we lighted fires at two
o'clock. Then another light breeze sprang up for a few minutes, only
to fall away again immediately, and at six o'clock we commenced to
steam.
_Saturday, November 25th_.--A very wet morning, the sky clearing at
about ten, but the weather remaining dull, heavy, hot, and oppressive,
throughout the day. But we were making good progress under steam,
which rendered the state of things more endurable than it would
otherwise have been.
Whilst I was standing on deck at night a flying-fish flew against my
throat and hung there, caught in the lace of my dress. He is a pretty
specimen, but only his wings are to be preserved, for Muriel will have
his body for breakfast to-morrow.
_Sunday, November 26th_.--Our fourth consecutive Sunday at sea, and
out of sight of land. At 4 a.m. the sails were spread to a good
breeze. At 7 we stopped steaming, but at 10 the wind again fell light.
The Litany was read on deck this morning on account of the heat. The
observations at noon showed that we were in lat. 15° 47' S., long.
135° 20' W., the distance accomplished during the last twenty-four
hours being 181 miles. We have now made good 4,067 miles from
Valparaiso, and are 815 miles distant from Tahiti. At 5 p.m. we had
prayers and a sermon, also on deck. It was then almost calm, and at
eight o'clock we again began steaming, in order to insure our making
the island of Tatakotoroa, 200 miles off, before dark to-morrow.
_Monday, November 27th_.--I was on deck at 3.30 a.m. Everybody on
board was more or less excited at the prospect of making land, after
twenty-eight days at sea. It was a delicious morning, with a
favourable breeze, and under steam and sail we progressed at the rate
of from 10 to 11-1/2 knots an hour. Several birds flew on board,
amongst whom were two boobies, who hovered round us and appeared to
examine everything with great curiosity, especially the little
wind-vanes at the extremity of the masts. At last they settled on the
foretopmast, whereupon one of the sailors went up to try and catch
them. They observed his movements closely, and appeared to be
specially interested in his cap; but as he approached, first one and
then the other flew away for a few yards, and then returned to his
former position. At last the man, watching his opportunity, managed to
seize one of them by his legs and bring him down in triumph, despite
flapping wings and pecks from a sharp beak. He was shut up in the
fowl-pen--now, alas, empty of its proper denizens--where we had an
opportunity of examining him before he was killed. He was a fine,
handsome, grey bird, with large blue eyes, and a wild hawk-like look.
At one o'clock we were almost sailing over the spot marked by Findlay
as the situation of Tatakotopoto, or Anonymous Island; but there was
nothing whatever visible in the shape of land, even from the masthead,
where a man was stationed, and from which it was possible to see a
distance of ten or fifteen miles. Tom went up himself several times
and scanned the horizon carefully, but in vain. It is therefore
evident either that the position of the island is incorrectly stated,
or that it has become submerged. I believe that in these seas there
are many islands marked that have no existence, and that several that
do exist are not marked, which renders it necessary to keep a constant
good look-out. What a charming task it would be thoroughly to survey
these parts, and to correct the present charts where necessary, and
how much I should like to be one of the officers appointed for the
service!
[Illustration: Tatakotoroa or Clarke Island]
At 1.30 p.m. land was sighted from the mast-head, and at two o'clock I
saw from the deck what looked like plumes of dark ostrich feathers
rising from the sea. This was the island of Tatakotoroa--also known as
Narcissus, or Clarke Island--to the eastward of the Paumotu or Low
Archipelago of the South Seas. The sailing directions describe the
inhabitants as 'hostile,' and Sir Edward Belcher mentions that some of
them tried to cut off the boats sent from a man-of-war for water. We
were therefore afraid to attempt a landing, but sailed as near as we
could to the shore, which, surrounded by a rampart of snow-white
coral, and clothed almost to the water's edge with feathery palms,
cocoa-nut trees, and luxuriant vegetation of various kinds, looked
very tempting. A few canoes were drawn up on the beach near a large
hut, out of which three or four natives came, and, having looked at us
for some time, ran off into the woods. Blue smoke could be seen
curling up from several points of the forest, no doubt indicating the
presence of more natives, whose dwellings were concealed by the trees.
[Illustration: Going up the Mast in a Chair.]
[Illustration: Children looking up]
After lunch, Tom had me hoisted up to the foretopmast-head in a
'boatswain's chair,' which is simply a small plank, suspended by ropes
at the four corners, and used by the men to sit on when they scrape
the masts. I was very carefully secured with a rope tied round my
petticoats, and, knocking against the various ropes on my way, was
then gently hoisted up to what seemed at first a giddy height; but
when once I got accustomed to the smallness of the seat, the airiness
of my perch, and the increased roll of the vessel, I found my position
by no means an unpleasant one. Tom climbed up the rigging and joined
me shortly afterwards. From our elevated post we could see plainly the
formation of the island, and the lagoon in the centre, encircled by a
band of coral, in some places white, bare, and narrow, in others wide
and covered with palm-trees and rich vegetation; it was moreover
possible to understand better the theory of the formation of these
coral islands. I was so happy up aloft that I did not care to descend;
and it was almost as interesting to observe what a strange and
disproportioned appearance everything and everybody on board the yacht
presented from my novel position, as it was to examine the island we
were passing. The two younger children and the dogs took the greatest
interest in my aërial expedition, and never ceased calling to me and
barking, until I was once more let down safely into their midst. As
soon as we had seen all we could of the island, fires were banked, and
we proceeded under sail alone throughout the evening and night.