Lieutenant Sholl arrives--Beagle returns--Loss of the Saxe Cobourg
sealer--Captain Stokes goes to Fury Harbour to save her crew--Beagle's
proceedings--Bougainville's memorial--Cordova's memorial--Beagle's
danger--Difficulties--Captain Stokes's boat-cruize--Passages--Natives--
Dangerous service--Western entrance of the Strait of Magalhaens--Hope's
cruize--Prepare to return to Monte Video.
The Beagle's time of absence had expired on the 1st of April, and our
anxiety, more excited by our recent loss, was becoming painful. I detained
the Hope from going upon a service for which she was prepared, in case she
might be required to search for our consort: but on the 6th a strange
whale-boat was descried pulling towards us from the southward, in which we
soon distinguished Lieut. Sholl. His appearance, under such circumstances,
of course raised fears for the Beagle's safety; but, on approaching, his
gratifying shout, "all's well!" at once removed anxiety.
Mr. Sholl informed me, that the Beagle had picked up a boat, belonging to
the schooner 'Prince of Saxe Cobourg,' wrecked in Fury Harbour, at the
south entrance of the Barbara Channel; and that she had put into Port
Gallant, whence Captain Stokes had gone with the boats to assist the
Sealers, leaving Lieut. Skyring on board.
The safety of the Beagle being established, I despatched Mr. Graves, in the
Hope, to examine some openings between the Magdalen Channel and the Dos
Hermanos of Bougainville.
Several days earlier than I expected, the Beagle made her appearance, and
Captain Stokes soon gave me the agreeable intelligence of having succeeded
in saving the Prince of Saxe Cobourg's crew. Favoured by the weather,
though delayed by his guide having forgotten the way, Captain Stokes
reached Fury Harbour in two days, and embarked the master and {66} crew of
the wrecked vessel, with all their personal property, and the greater part
of the seal-skins which they had cured. He reached Port Gallant again on
the fourth day; sailed immediately in the Beagle, and two days afterwards
anchored in Port Famine.
The Prince of Saxe Cobourg, belonging to Mr. Weddel (whose voyage towards
the South Pole is so well known), and commanded by Mr. Matthew Brisbane,
who accompanied Weddel on that occasion, sailed from England in the summer
of 1826, on a sealing voyage. At South Shetland she encountered a
continuance of bad weather, was beset by a large body of ice for several
days, and received so much damage as to oblige her to run for the Fuegian
coast, and anchor in Fury Harbour, at the entrance of the Barbara Channel.
There (December 16th, 1826) she was driven on shore by the furious strength
of the williwaws, and wrecked. The crew were, however, enabled to save most
of the provisions and stores, as well as their three boats. Having made
tents, and established themselves on shore, they remained in anxious
expectation of the arrival of some vessel which might relieve them; day
after day however passed, without succour.
Two boats were despatched to look for any sealing vessel that might be in
the vicinity, but after fifteen days' absence they returned unsuccessful.
In this interval one of the crew, who had long been sickly, died; and
another, in carelessly discharging a musket, exploded twenty pounds of
gunpowder, by which he was very much burned. Three of the people being
mutinous, were punished by being sent, each to a different island, with
only a week's provisions.
Soon afterwards another boat was sent away, which reached Hope Harbour, but
found no vessel there. Seven of the people then obtained permission from
the master (who kept up a very proper state of discipline), to take the
largest whale-boat, and go towards the River Negro. Previous to their
departure they drew up articles of agreement for their general conduct, a
breach of which was to be punished by the offender being left upon the
coast, wherever they might happen to {67} be. The boat eventually arrived
safely at the place of her destination, and the crew entered as volunteers
on board of the Buenos Ayrean squadron, at that time engaged in the war
with Brazil.
Again a boat was despatched, directed to go westward through the Strait in
search of vessels. She had only reached as far as Playa Parda, when the
Beagle fell in with her (March 3d, 1827). While passing through the small
channels, before entering the Strait, she met several canoes, with Indians,
who endeavoured to stop her, and shot arrows at the crew; but, happily,
without doing any mischief.
After the last boat's departure, Mr. Brisbane began to build a small
vessel, and, while so employed, was visited by a party of natives, who
conducted themselves very peaceably, and went away. Their visit, however,
gave the shipwrecked people, now much reduced in number,[57] reason to
apprehend the return of a larger body, who might try to possess themselves
of the property which was lying about on the shore; they therefore buried a
great deal, and took means to preserve the rest by making preparations to
repel attack. When Captain Stokes appeared with his two boats, the Sealers
flew to their arms, calling out "the Indians, the Indians!" but in a very
few minutes excess of joy succeeded to their sudden alarm.
Captain Stokes found the vessel lying on the rocks, bilged, and an utter
wreck. The master and crew were extremely anxious to get away, he therefore
embarked them, with as much of the property as could be carried, and
succeeded (after another night in the boats, and a long pull of eighty
miles,) in conveying them safely to the Beagle.
The following is an abstract of Captain Stokes's journal of his cruise to
the western entrance of the Strait.
The Beagle sailed from Port Famine on the 15th of January, to explore the
Strait westward of Cape Froward, and to fix particularly the positions of
Cape Pillar, the rock called {68} Westminster Hall, and the Islands of
Direction, at the western entrance of the Strait.
For the first night Captain Stokes anchored in San Nicolas Bay, and in the
evening examined a harbour[58] behind Nassau Island, which Bougainville, in
the year 1765, visited for the purpose of procuring wood for the French
settlement at the Falkland Islands.
On the second night, after a day nearly calm, the Beagle was anchored in a
cove to the eastward of Cape Froward, and the next day (17th) passed round
the Cape, carrying a heavy press of sail against a dead foul wind. Captain
Stokes's account of this day's beat to windward will give the reader an
idea of the sort of navigation.
"Our little bay had screened us so completely from the wind, that though,
when (at five A.M.) we weighed, the breeze was so light as scarcely to
enable us, with all sail set, to clear its entrance; no sooner were we
outside, than we were obliged to treble reef the topsails. We continued to
beat to windward under a heavy press of sail; our object being to double
Cape Froward, and secure, if possible, an anchorage ere night-fall under
Cape Holland, six leagues further to the westward. At first we made
'boards' right across the Straits to within a third of a mile of each
shore, gaining, however, but little. We then tried whether, by confining
our tacks to either coast, we could discover a tide by which we might
profit; and for that purpose I began with the north shore, for though we
were there more exposed to violent squalls which came down the valleys, I
thought it advisable to avoid the indraught of various channels
intersecting the Fuegian coast; but having made several boards without any
perceptible advantage, we tried the south shore, with such success that I
was induced to keep on that side during the remainder of the day.
"And here let me remark, that in consequence of the westerly winds which
blow through the western parts of the Straits of Magalhaens, with almost
the constancy (as regards {69} direction, not force) of a trade-wind; a
current setting to the eastward, commonly at the rate of a knot and three
quarters an hour, will be found in mid-channel. The tides exert scarcely
any influence, except near either shore; and sometimes appear to set, up
one side of the Straits, and down the other: the weather tide is generally
shown by a rippling.(c)
"Heavy squalls off Cape Froward repeatedly obliged us to clew all up. By
day their approach is announced, in time for the necessary precautions, by
their curling up and covering with foam the surface of the water, and
driving the spray in clouds before them.
"At last we doubled Cape Froward. This Cape (called by the Spaniards El
Morro de Santa Agueda), the southernmost point of all America, is a bold
promontory, composed of dark coloured slaty rock; its outer face is nearly
perpendicular, and whether coming from the eastward or westward, it 'makes'
as a high round-topped bluff hill ('Morro').
"Bougainville observes, that 'Cape Froward has always been much dreaded by
navigators.'[59] To double it, and gain an anchorage under Cape Holland,
certainly cost the Beagle as tough a sixteen hours' beat as I have ever
witnessed: we made thirty-one tacks, which, with the squalls, kept us
constantly on the alert, and scarcely allowed the crew to have the ropes
out of their hands throughout the day. But what there is to inspire a
navigator with 'dread' I cannot tell, for the coast on both sides is
perfectly clear, and a vessel may work from shore to shore."
From Cape Holland, the Beagle proceeded to Port Gallant, and during her
stay there, Mr. Bowen ascended the Mountain de la Cruz. Upon the summit he
found some remains of a glass bottle, and a roll of papers, which proved to
be the memorials stated to have been left by Don Antonio de Cordova, {70}
and a copy of a document that had previously been deposited there by M. de
Bougainville. With these papers was found a Spanish two-rial piece of
Carlos III., which had been bent to admit of its being put into the bottle.
It was with considerable difficulty that any of the writing could be
decyphered, for the papers, having been doubled up, were torn, and the
words defaced at the foldings, and edges.
Bougainville's memorial was in Latin. Cordova's, besides a document in
Latin, was accompanied by an account of his voyage, written in four
languages, Spanish, French, Italian, and English. The legible part of the
former was as follows:--
Viatori Benevolo salus ........
........ que a periculose admodum naviga ......
........ Brasilie Bonarve et insularum ..........
............................................
.......... incertis freti Magellanici portubus ....
...................... historia astronomia ....
.... Boug .................................
.... Boug .... Duclos et de la Giranda 2 navium ..
.............. Primaris
.... Comerson .... Doct med naturalista Regio
accu .... m. Veron astronomo de Romainville hidrographio
.......... a rege Christianissimo demandans
.......... Landais Lavan Fontaine navium
Loco tenentibus et Vexillariis ........
........ itineris locus DD Dervi Lemoyne ....
............ Riouffe voluntariis.
................ vives .......... scriba
Anno MDCCLXVI.
The Latin inscription of Cordova was as follows:--
Benevolo Navigatori
Salutem
Anno Domini MDCCLXXXVIII Vir celeberrimus
DD Antonius de Cordova Laso de Vega navibus duabus (_quarum_
nomina SS Casilda et Eulalia _erant ad scrutamen_ Magellanici
freti subsequendum _unaque_ littorum, portuum aliorumque notabilium
.................... iter iterum fecit.
.... e Gadibus classis tertio nonas Octobris habenas _immittit_
quarto idus _ejusdem Nova_ ...... vidit
{71}
A Boreali ad Austra ...... _miserium_ postridie Kalendae
Novembris emigravit.
Decimo quarto Kalendas Januarii Patagonicis recognitis
litoribus ad ostium appulit freti.
Tandem ingentibus periculis et horroribus tam in mari quam
in freto magnanime et constanter super_atis_ et omnibus
portubus atque navium _fundamentis_ utriusque litoris
correctissime cognitis ad hunc portum Divini Jose vel
Galante septimo idu Januarii pervenit ubi ad
perpetuam rei memoriam in monte sanctissimae crucis hoc
monumentum reliquit.
Tertio et excelso Carolo regnante potente
Regali jussu facta fuere suo.
Colocatum fuit nono Kalendae Februarii Anno MDCCLXXXIX.
together with a list of the officers of both vessels, and enclosing a
memorial of Cordova's former voyage in the Santa Maria de la Cabeza. The
originals are placed in the British Museum; but before we finally left the
Strait, copies were made on vellum, and deposited on the same spot.
The Beagle left Port Gallant[60] with a fair wind, which carried her to
Swallow Harbour.
The next stopping place was Marian's Cove, a very snug anchorage on the
north shore, a few miles beyond Playa Parda. Proceeding thence to the
westward, with the wind 'in their teeth,' and such bad weather, that they
could only see the land of either coast at intervals, and failing in an
attempt to find anchorage under Cape Upright, the Beagle was kept under
weigh during a squally dark night.
In that very place, Commodore Byron, with the Dolphin and Tamar, passed the
anxious night, which he thus describes:--
"Our situation was now very alarming; the storm increased every minute, the
weather was extremely thick, and the rain seemed to threaten another
deluge; we had a long dark night before us, we were in a narrow channel,
and surrounded on {72} every side by rocks and breakers."[61] The Beagle
was under similar circumstances, but the land being known to be high and
bold, her danger was not considered so imminent.
Eastward of Cape Upright the water was smooth; but between it and Cape
Providence a heavy breaking sea was caused by the deep swell of the
Pacific. Captain Stokes found an anchorage the next night in a bay under
Cape Tamar; and the following evening very nearly reached another under
Cape Phillip; but the darkness of a rainy night, and strong squalls,
prevented their attempting to anchor in an unknown place, and the only
resource was to bear up for shelter under Cape Tamar, where the previous
night had been passed. Even this was a dangerous attempt; they could hardly
discern any part of the high land, and when before the wind could not avoid
the ship's going much too fast. While running about eight knots, a violent
shock--a lift forward--heel over--and downward plunge--electrified every
one; but before they could look round, she was scudding along, as before,
having fairly leaped over the rock.
It was afterwards found that a great part of the gripe and false keel were
knocked away. Captain Stokes's account of this day's beat will give an idea
of the difficulties which the Beagle's crew encountered, in working out of
the Strait.
January 31st. "The hands were turned up at daylight up anchor; but the
heavy squalls that came off the high land of the harbour, rendered it too
hazardous to weigh, until a temporary lull enabled us to make sail, and
re-commence beating to the westward against a dead foul wind, much rain,
hard squalls, and a turbulent cross sea.
"The squalls became more frequent and more violent after noon; but they
gave, in daylight, sufficient warning, being preceded by dark clouds
gradually expanding upwards, until their upper line attained the altitude
of about fifty degrees: then came heavy rain, and perhaps hail; immediately
after followed the squall in all its fury, and generally lasted fifteen or
twenty minutes.
{73}
"In working to windward we frequently extended our 'boards' to the south
shore (not without risk considering the state of the weather), with the
hope of making out Tuesday Bay, or some anchorage thereabout; but the coast
was covered with so thick a mist, that not a single point, mentioned by
preceding navigators, could be recognised.
"About seven in the evening we were assailed by a squall, which burst upon
the ship with fury far surpassing all that preceded it; had not sail been
shortened in time, not a stick would have been left standing, or she must
have capsized. As it was, the squall hove her so much over on her
broadside, that the boat which was hanging at the starboard quarter was
washed away. I then stood over to the north shore, to look for anchorage
under the lee of a cape, about three leagues to the north-west of Cape
Tamar. On closing it, the weather became so thick that at times we could
scarcely see two ships' lengths a-head.
"These circumstances were not in favour of exploring unknown bays, and to
think of passing such a night as was in prospect, under sail in the
Straits, would have been a desperate risk; I was obliged therefore to yield
the hard-gained advantage of this day's beat, and run for the anchorage
whence we had started in the morning.
"It was nearly dark ere we reached it; and in entering, desirous to keep
well up to windward, in order to gain the best anchorage, I went too close
to the outer islet, and the ship struck violently on a rocky ledge.
However, she did not hang a moment, and was soon anchored in safety."
Finding so much danger and difficulty, in proceeding with the ship, without
first knowing where to run for anchorages, Captain Stokes left her in Tamar
Bay, under the charge of Lieutenant Skyring; and, accompanied by Mr. Flinn,
set out in the cutter, with a week's provisions, to examine the south
coast.
In a very arduous and dangerous cruize he discovered several well-sheltered
anchorages, but experienced a "constant heavy gale from W.N.W., with thick
weather and incessant drenching rain." {74}
Captain Stokes says, "Our discomfort in an open boat was very great, since
we were all constantly wet to the skin. In trying to double the various
headlands, we were repeatedly obliged (after hours of ineffectual struggle
against sea and wind) to desist from useless labour, and take refuge in the
nearest cove which lay to leeward."
From the Harbour of Mercy, Captain Stokes attempted to cross the Strait, on
his return to the Beagle; but the sea ran too high, and obliged him to
defer his daring purpose until the weather was more favourable.
During his absence, Lieutenant Skyring surveyed Tamar Bay and its vicinity.
Again the Beagle weighed, and tried hard to make some progress to the
westward, but was obliged a third time to return to Tamar Bay. After
another delay she just reached Sholl Bay, under Cape Phillip, and remained
there one day, to make a plan of the anchorage, and take observations to
fix its position.
The Beagle reached the Harbour of Mercy (Separation Harbour of Wallis and
Carteret),[62] after a thirty days' passage from Port Famine, on the 15th,
having visited several anchorages on the south shore in her way. But
tedious and harassing as her progress had been, the accounts of Byron,
Wallis, Carteret, and Bougainville show that they found more difficulty,
and took more time, in their passages from Port Famine to the western
entrance of the Strait. Byron, in 1764, was forty-two days; Wallis, in
1766, eighty-two; Carteret, in the same year, eighty-four; and
Bougainville, in 1768, forty days, in going that short distance.
Five days were passed at this place, during which they communicated with a
few natives, of whom Captain Stokes remarks; "As might be expected from the
unkindly climate in which they dwell, the personal appearance of these
Indians does not {75} exhibit, either in male or female, any indications of
activity or strength. Their average height is five feet five inches; their
habit of body is spare; the limbs are badly turned, and deficient in
muscle; the hair of their head is black, straight, and coarse; their
beards, whiskers, and eyebrows, naturally exceedingly scanty, are carefully
plucked out; their forehead is low; the nose rather prominent, with dilated
nostrils; their eyes are dark, and of a moderate size; the mouth is large,
and the under-lip thick; their teeth are small and regular, but of bad
colour. They are of a dirty copper colour; their countenance is dull, and
devoid of expression. For protection against the rigours of these inclement
regions, their clothing is miserably suited; being only the skin of a seal,
or sea-otter, thrown over the shoulders, with the hairy side outward.
"The two upper corners of this skin are tied together across the breast
with a strip of sinew or skin, and a similar thong secures it round the
waist; the skirts are brought forward so as to be a partial covering. Their
comb is a portion of the jaw of a porpoise, and they anoint their hair with
seal or whale blubber; for removing the beard and eyebrows they employ a
very primitive kind of tweezers, namely, two muscle shells. They daub their
bodies with a red earth, like the ruddle used in England for marking sheep.
The women, and children, wear necklaces, formed of small shells, neatly
attached by a plaiting of the fine fibres of seal's intestines.
"The tracts they inhabit are altogether destitute of four-footed animals;
they have not domesticated the geese or ducks which abound here; of tillage
they are utterly ignorant; and the only vegetable productions they eat are
a few wild berries and a kind of sea-weed. Their principal food consists of
muscles, limpets, and sea-eggs, and, as often as possible, seal, sea-otter,
porpoise, and whale: we often found in their deserted dwellings bones of
these animals, which had undergone the action of fire.
"Former voyagers have noticed the avidity with which they swallowed the
most offensive offal, such as decaying seal-skins, {76} rancid seal, and
whale blubber, &c. When on board my ship, they ate or drank greedily
whatever was offered to them, salt-beef, salt-pork, preserved meat,
pudding, pea-soup, tea, coffee, wine, or brandy--nothing came amiss. One
little instance, however, happened, which showed what they preferred. As
they were going ashore, a lump of the tallow used for arming the lead was
given to them, and received with particular delight. It was scrupulously
divided, and placed in the little baskets which they form of rushes, to be
reserved for eating last, as the richest treat.
"To their dwellings have been given, in various books of voyages, the names
of huts, wigwams, &c.; but, with reference to their structure, I think old
Sir John Narborough's term for them will convey the best idea to an English
reader; he calls them 'arbours.' They are formed of about a couple of dozen
branches, pointed at the larger ends, and stuck into the ground round a
circular or elliptical space, about ten feet by six; the upper ends are
brought together, and secured by tyers of grass, over which is thrown a
thatching of grass and seal-skins, a hole being left at the side as a door,
and another at the top as a vent for the smoke. A fire is kept burning
within, over which the natives are constantly cowering; hence, when seen
abroad, instead of appearing to be hardy savages, inured to wet and cold,
you see wretched creatures shivering at every breeze. I never met people so
sensible of cold as these Fuegian Indians.
"The nature of their domestic ties we had no opportunity of discovering;
their manner towards their children is affectionate and caressing. I often
witnessed the tenderness with which they tried to quiet the alarms our
presence at first occasioned, and the pleasure which they showed when we
bestowed upon the little ones any trifling trinkets. It appeared that they
allow their children to possess property, and consult their little whims
and wishes, with respect to its disposal; for being in a boat, alongside
one of the canoes, bargaining for various articles, spears, arrows,
baskets, &c., I took a fancy to a dog lying near one of the women, and
offered a price for it; one of my seamen, supposing the bargain concluded,
laid {77} hands on the dog, at which the woman set up a dismal yell; so
bidding him desist, I increased my offers. She declined to part with it,
but would give two others. At last, my offers became so considerable, that
she called a little boy out of the thick jungle (into which he had fled at
our approach), who was the owner of the dog. The goods were shown to him,
and all his party urged him to sell it, but the little urchin would not
consent. He offered to let me have his necklace, and what he received in
exchange was put away in his own little basket.
"These people never evinced any thankfulness for our presents. Whatever was
offered they 'clutched at,' doubtful of getting it, although held out to
them; and when in their own hand, it was instantly stowed away, as if they
feared it would be recalled.
"I sometimes tried to discover whether they preferred any particular
colour, and for that purpose held out three strings of beads, black, white,
and red; they clutched at all three, in their usual manner, without showing
any preference.
"Their pronunciation is exceedingly harsh and guttural; not more than two
words, whose signification was at all ascertained, could be made out,
'sherroo,' a ship, boat, or canoe, and 'peteet,' a child. They have a
wonderful aptitude for imitating the sounds of strange languages: let a
sentence, of even a dozen words, be distinctly pronounced, and they will
repeat it with the utmost precision.
"Their only articles of traffic, besides such implements and weapons as
they use, are seal and otter skins; and I should say that the quantity of
peltry to be procured from them would be insignificant towards completing
the cargo of a sealing vessel."
During the next few days the Beagle was employed in the most exposed, the
least known, and the most dangerous part of the Strait. Fortunately, she
was favoured by weather, and effected her purpose without injury or loss;
but I never reflect upon this piece of service without an inward tribute of
admiration to the daring, skill, and seamanship of Captain Stokes,
Lieutenant Skyring, and Mr. Flinn. {78}
In his journal Captain Stokes says:
"Incessant rain and thick clouds prevented my completing, until this day
(19th), the observations necessary for making an island, just outside the
Harbour of Mercy, the southern end of my base, for the trigonometrical
connection of the coasts and islands near the western entrance of this
weather-beaten Strait.
"On the 20th, I weighed and beat to windward, intending to search for
anchorage on the north shore, where I might land and fix the northern end
of our base line. In the evening we anchored in an archipelago of islands,
the real danger of whose vicinity was much increased to the eye by rocks,
scattered in every direction, and high breakers, occasioned doubtless by
reefs under water. We observed that most of the larger islands have small
banks of sand at their eastern sides, on which anchorage may be found; but
for ordinary purposes of navigation, this cluster of islands[63] need only
be pointed out to be avoided. The number and contiguity of the rocks, below
as well as above water, render it a most hazardous place for any
square-rigged vessel: nothing but the particular duty on which I was
ordered would have induced me to venture among them. Fore-and-aft vessels
might work with far less risk; and as the rocks are frequented by vast
numbers of fur seal, a season or two might be profitably passed here by a
sealing vessel so rigged.
"This morning (21st) I landed on one of the larger islands, with Lieutenant
Skyring, and having ascended an eminence (Observation Mount) with the
necessary instruments, fixed its position, and made it the northern end of
our base.
"It was a beautiful, and clear day; the Isles of Direction (or
Evangelists), as well as every point of importance on the adjacent coast,
were seen distinctly during several hours.
"My next object was to fix the position of Cape Victory, and ascertain
whether anchorage could be found in its neighbourhood. Accordingly, we
weighed early next morning (22d,) and after extricating ourselves from this
labyrinth (not without much difficulty and danger), we beat to the
westward. Violent squalls, a heavy sea, and thick weather, which came on
about {79} noon, obliged me to choose the least evil, and run for the
Harbour of Mercy.
"On the 23d, we went out again, and beat towards the Isles of Direction,
off which we passed a night under sail.
"The morning of the 24th was very fine, and the wind moderate. Leaving the
Beagle to sound about the Isles of Direction, I set out in my boat, with
two days' provisions, towards Cape Victory. As we rowed along these rocky
shores, threading the mazes of the labyrinth of islets which fringe them,
we saw vast numbers of black whales, and the rocks were quite covered with
fur seal and brant geese.
"After pulling, in earnest, for six hours, we landed upon Cape Victory, the
north-western limit of the Strait of Magalhaens, and there, with a sextant,
artificial horizon, and chronometer, ascertained the position of this
remarkable promontory. From an eminence, eight hundred feet above the sea,
we had a commanding view of the adjacent coasts, as well as of the vast
Pacific, which enabled us to rectify former material errors. Late in the
evening we were fortunate enough to get safely on board again, which,
considering the usual weather here and the heavy sea, was unexpected
success. This night was passed under sail in the Pacific, and next morning
we commenced our return to Port Famine.
"When within four or five miles of Cape Pillar, and to the westward of it,
a current was found to set southward, at about two knots an hour. As we
neared the Cape the wind fell, and the Beagle was set rapidly towards those
dangerous rocks, called the Apostles. Fortunately, a commanding breeze
sprung up, and we extricated ourselves from the difficulty. While passing
Cape Pillar, I landed in a cove near it, and determined its position. By
sunset we had arrived near the Harbour of Mercy; and being becalmed, towed
the ship in, with her boats, until an anchor was dropped at the proper
place.
"On the 26th, we went to Tuesday Bay, and on the 27th crossed the Strait,
and anchored under Cape Parker. I have rarely witnessed such a high, cross,
and irregular sea as we this day passed through, near the strange mass of
rock, called by {80} Narborough, 'Westminster Hall.' The coast about our
unsafe anchorage was as barren and dismal-looking as any part of this
country, which, as the old navigator above-mentioned said, is 'so desolate
land to behold.'
"Next day (March 1st) we ran down to Cape Upright, and there remained until
the 3d, collecting the required data for our survey.
"While standing towards the bay called Playa Parda (on the 3d), a boat
under sail was seen making towards us from the southern coast. I fired
several guns, to show our position, before we became shut in by the land,
and soon after anchoring a whale-boat came alongside, with the second mate
and five men belonging to the sealing-vessel Prince of Saxe Cobourg.
"Anxious not to lose a moment in hastening to the relief of our shipwrecked
countrymen, I ran down next day to Port Gallant, and thence proceeded with
two ten-oared boats (on the 5th) through the Barbara Channel, and the
following evening reached Fury Harbour."
Having already given a short account of the Saxe Cobourg's loss, and the
rescue of her crew by Captain Stokes, I will not repeat the story by
extracting more from his journal.
Mr. Graves returned from his cruize in the Hope on the 17th, after
suffering much from stormy weather and incessant rain; but having made a
survey of the openings in the land to the west of Magdalen Channel as far
as the Sugar Loaf Point, at the west head of Lyell Sound, which he found to
be deep inlets, affording no anchorages of value to navigation.
The time having arrived for our return to Monte Video, preparations were
made for sailing, and in the mean time I went to the northward, in the
Hope, to survey the coast between Port Famine and Elizabeth Island,
including Shoal Haven.
At the bottom of Shoal Haven we were stopped by the water shoaling to five
feet, so that we were obliged to haul out till we could anchor in more than
two fathoms. During the night the wind shifted to N.E., and blew right in,
obliging us to weigh, and work under the S.W. end of Elizabeth Island into
a bay close to that shore. From the summit of the S.W. {81} point I
afterwards took angles, among which the most important gave Mount Sarmiento
bearing S. 1-1/2deg W. (true). Its distance must have been (by recent
observations) ninety-four miles.
Elizabeth Island is a long, low strip of land, lying parallel to the shores
of the Strait, which here take a N.N.E. direction. Compared with the land
to the southward it is very low, no part being more than two or three
hundred feet high. It is composed of narrow ranges of hills, extending in
ridges in the direction of its length, over which are strewed boulders of
the various rocks, which have been noticed before as forming the shingle
beaches of Point St. Mary and Point St. Anna; two kinds of rock, greenstone
and hornblende, being the most common. The vallies which divide the hilly
ridges were well clothed with grass, and in many places were seen hollows,
that had contained fresh water, but now were entirely dried up. These spots
were marked by a white crust, apparently caused by the saline quality of
the soil.
Geese and wild ducks, and the red-bill (_Haematopus_), seem to be the only
inhabitants of this island. The Indians sometimes visit it, for at the S.W.
end we found remains of wigwams and shell-fish. Perhaps it is a place
whence they communicate with the Patagonian natives, or they may in the
season frequent it for eggs.
We anchored in Laredo Bay, and visited a lake about a mile from the beach,
distinguished on the chart by the name of Duck Lagoon: it is very
extensive, and covered with large flights of gulls, ducks, and widgeons. We
shot one widgeon, which was a most beautiful bird, and of a species we had
not before seen.[64]
Here the country begins to be clothed with the deciduous leaved Beech tree
(_Fagus Antarctica_), which is stunted in growth, but very convenient for
fuel. Though the hardiest tree of this region, it is never found of large
size, the larger trees being the evergreen Beech (_Fagus betuloides_). We
also met with several small plants common to Cape Gregory. One {82} may
consider Cape Negro to be the boundary of two countries, as entirely
different from each other in geological structure and appearance, as they
are in climate, to which last difference may be attributed the
dissimilarity of their botanical productions.
Hence we returned to Port Famine. In our absence, a boat from the Beagle
had crossed the Strait to Lomas Bay, where a party of natives had kindled
fires of invitation.
The weather, since the sun crossed the equator, had been unusually fine;
and, with the exception of one day's heavy rain, the sky was so clear (the
wind being moderate from the N.E.) that all the heights were exposed to our
view, and amongst them Mount Sarmiento stood pre-eminent.
Our preparations for sailing being nearly completed, the Hope was unrigged
and hoisted in, and our temporary settlement on shore abandoned. It
consisted of a marquee and a large bell tent. In the former was Mr.
Harrison (mate), who had charge of the party, and of the meteorological
instruments: the bell tent held the crew. Near them were the observatory, a
sawpit, and a cooking place, where a cheerful fire was always blazing. The
carpenter's shop, cooper's bench, and armourer's forge had each its place,
as well as a rope-walk, close to which our rigging was refitted, and the
sails were repaired. After working-hours the shore party roamed about the
woods with guns, or at low water picked up shell fish,[65] by which they
usually procured a fresh meal twice, but always once, a week. Meanwhile the
ship was kept carefully clean and in order. The officers not immediately
employed in active duty made excursions with their guns; and although the
immediate vicinity of our tents was pretty well thinned of game, yet a walk
of a few miles was always rewarded by ample sport. When opportunities
offered, some of the men were permitted to amuse themselves on shore with
their guns, for which many had provided themselves with powder and shot.
Every Sunday, after divine service, which was performed as regularly as
possible under our circumstances, such of the ship's company as desired
{83} permission to land obtained it. On one occasion, however, we had
nearly suffered for this indulgence, which was conducive to the men's
health, and seldom abused: for one of them having made a fire at a little
distance from the tents, the flames spread, and the exertions of all hands,
for three hours, only just prevented it from communicating to the tents. On
another occasion, two men set out on a shooting excursion, intending to
cross the river Sedger, against doing which there had been no particular
orders, as such a proceeding was scarcely contemplated. Having reached the
bank near its mouth, and searched for a fordable place unsuccessfully, they
launched a log of wood, and sitting astride, without providing themselves
with a pole or paddle, pushed off from the shore, supposing it would go
across; but, on reaching the middle of the stream, it was soon carried, by
the current, out of the river, into the bay. One man, Gilly, seeing that
the log was still floating away with the ebb tide, plunged in, and just
reached the shore south of the river, in a very exhausted state; the other,
Rix, unable to swim, kept his place, and was carried out to sea on a voyage
that might have been fatal, had he not been seen from the ship, and saved
by a boat.
Before leaving Port Famine we hauled one of our boats ashore, and left her
(as we thought) securely hidden among the trees.
Being now ready to sail, and only waiting for wind, the officers of both
ships, twenty-seven in number, dined together on shore.
* * * * *
{84}