The Jane Guy was a fine-looking topsail schooner of a hundred and
eighty tons burden. She was unusually sharp in the bows, and on a wind,
in moderate weather, the fastest sailer I have ever seen. Her
qualities, however, as a rough sea-boat, were not so good, and her
draught of water was by far too great for the trade to which she was
destined. For this peculiar service a larger vessel, and one of a light
proportionate draught, is desirable--say a vessel of from three to
three hundred and fifty tons. She should be barque-rigged, and in other
respects of a different construction from the usual South Sea ships. It
is absolutely necessary that she should be well armed. She should have,
say ten or twelve twelve pound carronades, and two or three long
twelves, with brass blunderbusses, and water-tight arm-chests for each
top. Her anchors and cables should be of far greater strength than is
required for any other species of trade, and, above all, her crew
should be numerous and efficient--not less, for such a vessel as I have
described, than fifty or sixty able-bodied men. The Jane Guy had a crew
of thirty-five, all able seamen, besides the captain and mate, but she
was not altogether as well armed or otherwise equipped as a navigator
acquainted with the difficulties and dangers of the trade could have
desired.
Captain Guy was a gentleman of great urbanity of manner, and of
considerable experience in the southern traffic, to which he had
devoted a great portion of his life. He was deficient, however, in
energy, and, consequently, in that spirit of enterprise which is here
so absolutely requisite. He was part owner of the vessel in which he
sailed, and was invested with discretionary powers to cruise in the
South Seas for any cargo which might come most readily to hand. He had
on board, as usual in such voyages, beads, looking-glasses,
tinder-works, axes, hatchets, saws, adzes, planes, chisels, gouges,
gimlets, files, spokeshaves, rasps, hammers, nails, knives, scissors,
razors, needles, thread, crockery-ware, calico, trinkets, and other
similar articles.
The schooner sailed from Liverpool on the tenth of July, crossed the
Tropic of Cancer on the twenty-fifth, in longitude twenty degrees west,
and reached Sal, one of the Cape Verd Islands, on the twenty-ninth,
where she took in salt and other necessaries for the voyage. On the
third of August she left the Cape Verds and steered southwest,
stretching over towards the coast of Brazil so as to cross the equator
between the meridians of twenty-eight and thirty degrees west
longitude. This is the course usually taken by vessels bound from
Europe to the Cape of Good Hope, or by that route to the East Indies.
By proceeding thus they avoid the calms and strong contrary currents
which continually prevail on the coast of Guinea, while, in the end, it
is found to be the shortest track, as westerly winds are never wanting
afterward by which to reach the Cape. It was Captain Guy's intention to
make his first stoppage at Kerguelen's Land--I hardly know for what
reason. On the day we were picked up the schooner was off Cape St.
Roque, in longitude 31 W.; so that, when found, we had drifted
probably, from north to south, _not less than five-and-twenty degrees_.
On board the Jane Guy we were treated with all the kindness our
distressed situation demanded. In about a fortnight, during which time
we continued steering to the southeast, with gentle breezes and fine
weather, both Peters and myself recovered entirely from the effects of
our late privation and dreadful suffering, and we began to remember
what had passed rather as a frightful dream from which we had been
happily awakened, than as events which had taken place in sober and
naked reality. I have since found that this species of partial oblivion
is usually brought about by sudden transition, whether from joy to
sorrow or from sorrow to joy--the degree of forgetfulness being
proportioned to the degree of difference in the exchange. Thus, in my
own case, I now feel it impossible to realize the full extent of the
misery which I endured during the days spent upon the hulk. The
incidents are remembered, but not the feelings which the incidents
elicited at the time of their occurrence. I only know that, when they
did occur, I _then_ thought human nature could sustain nothing more of
agony.
We continued our voyage for some weeks without any incidents of greater
moment than the occasional meeting with whaling-ships, and more
frequently with the black or right whale, so called in
contradistinction to the spermaceti. These, however, were chiefly found
south of the twenty-fifth parallel. On the sixteenth of September,
being in the vicinity of the Cape of Good Hope, the schooner
encountered her first gale of any violence since leaving Liverpool. In
this neighbourhood, but more frequently to the south and east of the
promontory (we were to the westward), navigators have often to contend
with storms from the northward which rage with great fury. They always
bring with them a heavy sea, and one of their most dangerous features
is the instantaneous chopping round of the wind, an occurrence almost
certain to take place during the greatest force of the gale. A perfect
hurricane will be blowing at one moment from the northward or
northeast, and in the next not a breath of wind will be felt in that
direction, while from the southwest it will come out all at once with a
violence almost inconceivable. A bright spot to the southward is the
sure forerunner of the change, and vessels are thus enabled to take the
proper precautions.
It was about six in the morning when the blow came on with a white
squall, and, as usual, from the northward. By eight it had increased
very much, and brought down upon us one of the most tremendous seas I
had then ever beheld. Everything had been made as snug as possible, but
the schooner laboured excessively, and gave evidence of her bad
qualities as a seaboat, pitching her forecastle under at every plunge,
and with the greatest difficulty struggling up from one wave before she
was buried in another. Just before sunset the bright spot for which we
had been on the lookout made its appearance in the southwest, and in an
hour afterward we perceived the little headsail we carried flapping
listlessly against the mast. In two minutes more, in spite of every
preparation, we were hurled on our beam-ends as if by magic, and a
perfect wilderness of foam made a clear breach over us as we lay. The
blow from the southwest, however, luckily proved to be nothing more
than a squall, and we had the good fortune to right the vessel without
the loss of a spar. A heavy cross sea gave us great trouble for a few
hours after this, but towards morning we found ourselves in nearly as
good condition as before the gale. Captain Guy considered that he had
made an escape little less than miraculous.
On the thirteenth of October we came in sight of Prince Edward's
Island, in latitude 46° 53' S., longitude 37° 46' E. Two days afterward
we found ourselves near Possession Island, and presently passed the
islands of Crozet, in latitude 42° 59' S., longitude 48° E. On the
eighteenth we made Kerguelen's or Desolation Island, in the Southern
Indian Ocean, and came to anchor in Christmas Harbour, having four
fathoms of water.
This island, or rather group of islands, bears southeast from the Cape
of Good Hope, and is distant therefrom nearly eight hundred leagues. It
was first discovered in 1772, by the Baron de Kergulen, or Kerguelen, a
Frenchman, who, thinking the land to form a portion of an extensive
southern continent, carried home information to that effect, which
produced much excitement at the time. The government, taking the matter
up, sent the baron back in the following year for the purpose of giving
his new discovery a critical examination, when the mistake was
discovered. In 1777, Captain Cook fell in with the same group, and gave
to the principal one the name of Desolation Island, a title which it
certainly well deserves. Upon approaching the land, however, the
navigator might be induced to suppose otherwise, as the sides of most
of the hills, from September to March, are clothed with very brilliant
verdure. This deceitful appearance is caused by a small plant
resembling saxifrage, which is abundant, growing in large patches on a
species of crumbling moss. Besides this plant there is scarcely a sign
of vegetation on the island, if we except some coarse rank grass near
the harbour, some lichen, and a shrub which bears resemblance to a
cabbage shooting into seed, and which has a bitter and acrid taste.
The face of the country is hilly, although none of the hills can be
called lofty. Their tops are perpetually covered with snow. There are
several harbours, of which Christmas Harbour is the most convenient. It
is the first to be met with on the northeast side of the island after
passing Cape François, which forms the northern shore, and, by its
peculiar shape, serves to distinguish the harbour. Its projecting point
terminates in a high rock, through which is a large hole, forming a
natural arch. The entrance is in latitude 48° 40' S., longitude 69° 6'
E. Passing in here, good anchorage may be found under the shelter of
several small islands, which form a sufficient protection from all
easterly winds. Proceeding on eastwardly from this anchorage you come
to Wasp Bay, at the head of the harbour. This is a small basin,
completely landlocked, into which you can go with four fathoms, and
find anchorage in from ten to three, hard clay bottom. A ship might lie
here with her best bower ahead all the year round without risk. To the
westward, at the head of Wasp Bay, is a small stream of excellent
water, easily procured.
Some seal of the fur and hair species are still to be found on
Kerguelen's Island, and sea elephants abound. The feathered tribes are
discovered in great numbers. Penguins are very plenty, and of these
there are four different kinds. The royal penguin, so called from its
size and beautiful plumage, is the largest. The upper part of the body
is usually gray, sometimes of a lilach tint; the under portion of the
purest white imaginable. The head is of a glossy and most brilliant
black, the feet also. The chief beauty of the plumage, however,
consists in two broad stripes of a gold colour, which pass along from
the head to the breast. The bill is long, and either pink or bright
scarlet. These birds walk erect, with a stately carriage. They carry
their heads high, with their wings drooping like two arms, and, as
their tails project from their body in a line with the legs, the
resemblance to a human figure is very striking, and would be apt to
deceive the spectator at a casual glance or in the gloom of the
evening. The royal penguins which we met with on Kerguelen's Land were
rather larger than a goose. The other kinds are the macaroni, the
jackass, and the rookery penguin. These are much smaller, less
beautiful in plumage, and different in other respects.
Besides the penguin many other birds are here to be found, among which
may be mentioned seahens, blue peterels, teal, ducks, Port Egmont hens,
shags, Cape pigeons, the nelly, seaswallows, terns, seagulls, Mother
Carey's chickens, Mother Carey's geese, or the great peterel, and,
lastly, the albatross.
The great peterel is as large as the common albatross, and is
carnivorous. It is frequently called the break-bones, or osprey
peterel. They are not at all shy, and, when properly cooked, are
palatable food. In flying they sometimes sail very close to the surface
of the water, with the wings expanded, without appearing to move them
in the least degree, or make any exertion with them whatever.
The albatross is one of the largest and fiercest of the South Sea
birds. It is of the gull species, and takes its prey on the wing, never
coming on land except for the purpose of breeding. Between this bird
and the penguin the most singular friendship exists. Their nests are
constructed with great uniformity, upon a plan concerted between the
two species--that of the albatross being placed in the centre of a
little square formed by the nests of four penguins. Navigators have
agreed in calling an assemblage of such encampments _a rookery_. These
rookeries have been often described, but, as my readers may not all
have seen these descriptions, and as I shall have occasion hereafter to
speak of the penguin and albatross, it will not be amiss to say
something here of their mode of building and living.
When the season for incubation arrives, the birds assemble in vast
numbers, and for some days appear to be deliberating upon the proper
course to be pursued. At length they proceed to action. A level piece
of ground is selected, of suitable extent, usually comprising three or
four acres, and situated as near the sea as possible, being still
beyond its reach. The spot is chosen with reference to its evenness of
surface, and that is preferred which is the least encumbered with
stones. This matter being arranged, the birds proceed, with one accord,
and actuated apparently by one mind, to trace out, with mathematical
accuracy, either a square or other parallelogram, as may best suit the
nature of the ground, and of just sufficient size to accommodate easily
all the birds assembled, and no more--in this particular seeming
determined upon preventing the access of future stragglers who have not
participated in the labour of the encampment. One side of the place
thus marked out runs parallel with the water's edge, and is left open
for ingress or egress.
Having defined the limits of the rookery, the colony now begin to clear
it of every species of rubbish, picking up stone by stone, and carrying
them outside of the lines, and close by them, so as to form a wall on
the three inland sides. Just within this wall a perfectly level and
smooth walk is formed, from six to eight feet wide, and extending
around the encampment--thus serving the purpose of a general promenade.
The next process is to partition out the whole area into small squares
exactly equal in size. This is done by forming narrow paths, very
smooth, and crossing each other at right angles throughout the entire
extent of the rookery. At each intersection of these paths the nest of
an albatross is constructed, and a penguin's nest in the centre of each
square--thus every penguin is surrounded by four albatrosses, and each
albatross by a like number of penguins. The penguin's nest consists of
a hole in the earth, very shallow, being only just of sufficient depth
to keep her single egg from rolling. The albatross is somewhat less
simple in her arrangements, erecting a hillock about a foot high and
two in diameter. This is made of earth, seaweed, and shells. On its
summit she builds her nest.
The birds take especial care never to leave their nests unoccupied for
an instant during the period of incubation, or, indeed, until the young
progeny are sufficiently strong to take care of themselves. While the
male is absent at sea in search of food, the female remains on duty,
and it is only upon the return of her partner that she ventures abroad.
The eggs are never left uncovered at all--while one bird leaves the
nest, the other nestling in by its side. This precaution is rendered
necessary by the thievish propensities prevalent in the rookery, the
inhabitants making no scruple to purloin each other's eggs at every
good opportunity.
Although there are some rookeries in which the penguin and albatross
are the sole population, yet in most of them a variety of oceanic birds
are to be met with, enjoying all the privileges of citizenship, and
scattering their nests here and there, wherever they can find room,
never interfering, however, with the stations of the larger species.
The appearance of such encampments, when seen from a distance, is
exceedingly singular. The whole atmosphere just above the settlement is
darkened with the immense number of the albatross (mingled with the
smaller tribes) which are continually hovering over it, either going to
the ocean or returning home. At the same time a crowd of penguins are
to be observed, some passing to and fro in the narrow alleys, and some
marching, with the military strut so peculiar to them, around the
general promenade-ground which encircles the rookery. In short, survey
it as we will, nothing can be more astonishing than the spirit of
reflection evinced by these feathered beings, and nothing surely can be
better calculated to elicit reflection in every well-regulated human
intellect.
On the morning after our arrival in Christmas Harbour the chief mate,
Mr. Patterson, took the boats, and (although it was somewhat early in
the season) went in search of seal, leaving the captain and a young
relation of his on a point of barren land to the westward, they having
some business, whose nature I could not ascertain, to transact in the
interior of the island. Captain Guy took with him a bottle, in which
was a sealed letter, and made his way from the point on which he was
set on shore towards one of the highest peaks in the place. It is
probable that his design was to leave the letter on that height for
some vessel which he expected to come after him. As soon as we lost
sight of him we proceeded (Peters and myself being in the mate's boat)
on our cruise around the coast, looking for seal. In this business we
were occupied about three weeks, examining with great care every nook
and corner, not only of Kerguelen's Land, but of the several small
islands in the vicinity. Our labours, however, were not crowned with
any important success. We saw a great many fur seal, but they were
exceedingly shy, and, with the greatest exertions, we could only
procure three hundred and fifty skins in all. Sea elephants were
abundant, especially on the western coast of the main island, but of
these we killed only twenty, and this with great difficulty. On the
smaller islands we discovered a good many of the hair seal, but did not
molest them. We returned to the schooner on the eleventh, where we
found Captain Guy and his nephew, who gave a very bad account of the
interior, representing it as one of the most dreary and utterly barren
countries in the world. They had remained two nights on the island,
owing to some misunderstanding, on the part of the second mate, in
regard to the sending a jollyboat from the schooner to take them off.