Place for a Settlement--Frost--Boats in danger--Narrow escape--Sudden
change--Beagle Hills--Fuegian painting--Tides--Medicine--Water warmer
than the air--Jerome Channel--Mr. Stokes returns to the Beagle--Cape
Quod--Snowy Sound--Whale Sound--Choiseul Bay--Return to the Beagle--
Adelaide returns--Plan of operations--Difficulties removed--
Preparations--Wear and tear of clothing--Ascend the Mountain de la Cruz--
Sail from Port Gallant--Tides--Borja Bay--Cape Quod--Gulf of Xaultegua--
Frost and snow--Meet Adelaide--Part--Enter Pacific--Arrive at Chiloe.
"18th of May. Very cold, raining heavily, and blowing strong from S.W. The
tide turned this day (full moon), and set to the westward at 1.15. I only
say 'turned,' because I could not distinguish the ebb from the flood, so
little rise and fall was there. No sooner had the tide ceased to run in one
direction, than it began to run as strongly in the other, for about six
hours. For the last four nights I noticed, that soon after sunset the sky
was suddenly overcast, a trifling shower fell, and afterwards the heavens
became beautifully clear. The climate must be much like that of the east
coast of Patagonia, as shrubs grow here like those I saw at Port Desire.
While walking, the leaves and dry sticks crackled under foot, which is very
different from what one observes about the Strait of Magalhaens, where
everything is wet and spungy. I was inclined to think this place suitable
for a settlement. There is water, wood, and good soil, fit for planting,
besides pasture land; the climate is not bad; and probably the Patagonian
Indians might be induced to trade in guanaco meat, as they now do at
Gregory Bay; while any of their hostile incursions would be prevented by
the channel.
"19th. Two natives, a man and a boy, came to our boats this morning; they
seemed to have neither curiosity, nor fear, nor even a relish for tobacco.
They took a piece of tinder, picked up a stone, and went away to some
wigwams, at a little distance, where we soon afterwards saw a fire burning.
{231}
"During this night and the preceding it froze sharply; but the sky was so
clear, that I observed many sets of distances, on each side the moon.
"20th. We went eastward through the little channel. Every thing was frozen;
and the boat's sails were useless until thawed. We left Donkin Cove
directly after noon, and with a fresh and fair wind, steered towards Pecket
Harbour. I may as well mention here my reasons for taking this course,
instead of going farther westward.
"Considering our very limited time, and provisions, I wished to do first
what was most useful; and to find a new passage, seemed to me the primary
object. Having surveyed the narrow winding channel, and proved its
navigability for vessels of any class; I thought it desirable to ascertain
next the nature of the separation between Otway Water and the Strait of
Magalhaens, between Laredo Bay and Pecket Harbour.
"A western passage might be sought by the Adelaide schooner, or by myself,
at a future time. If we tried to cross the Skyring Water, our success would
be very doubtful, for during the whole time we had been in the channel, the
wind blew strong from S.W., raising so much sea, that it was with great
difficulty I could sound outside the western entrance, even in a
whale-boat.
"A fine breeze carried us rapidly eastward; but it freshened too fast, reef
after reef was taken in, until at two o'clock we were obliged to lower the
sail, and pull to windward; for as far as we could see, the shore continued
unbroken, flat, and low, with a high surf breaking on it. To have attempted
to land, would have been folly; and as the wind continued to increase, and
a current setting to windward caused a very short awkward sea, I sent Mr.
Stokes off in the cutter, under his small close-reefed sails, to hang to
windward as long as he could carry sail, while I kept the whale-boat head
to wind. At three o'clock, we were embayed, and about a mile from the
shore. My boat was deeply laden, and as our clothes and bags got soaked,
pulled more heavily. We threw a bag of fuel overboard, but kept everything
else to the last. At sunset the sea {232} was higher, and the wind as
strong as ever. I saw the cutter a little before, about three miles from
us, standing to the eastward on a wind; but whether she would clear the
shore I could not make out.
"After dark, finding we could not well be worse off as to risk, I bore up,
and pulled with the sea rather abaft the beam, twisting the boat 'end on'
to each wave as it came, hoping to get into smoother water to the westward.
Night, and having hung on our oars five hours, made me think of beaching
the boat to save the men; for in a sea so short and breaking, it was not
likely she would live much longer. At any time in the afternoon, momentary
neglect, allowing a wave to take her improperly, would have swamped us; and
after dark it was worse. Shortly after bearing up, a heavy sea broke over
my back, and half filled the boat: we were baling away, expecting its
successor, and had little thoughts of the boat living, when--quite
suddenly--the sea fell, and soon after the wind became moderate. So
extraordinary was the change, that the men, by one impulse, lay on their
oars, and looked about to see what had happened. Probably we had passed the
place where a tide was setting against the wind. I immediately put the
boat's head towards the cove we left in the morning, and with thankful
gladness the men pulled fast ahead. In ten minutes the sea was smooth, and
the breeze so moderate, as not to impede our progress. Our only anxiety was
then about the cutter; for we could not tell how she had weathered the
gale. I was sure she would have prospered if kept by the wind; but some
accident, or change of purpose, was to be feared.
"About an hour after midnight, we landed in safety at Donkin Cove; so
tired, and numbed by the cold, for it was freezing sharply, that we could
hardly get out of the boat. The embers of our morning fire were still
burning; so we put on some wood, and lay down round them. No men could have
behaved better than that boat's crew: not a word was uttered by one of
them; nor did an oar flag at any time, although they acknowledged, after
landing, that they never expected to see the shore again. We resolved to
start early to look for {233} the cutter, and fell asleep: but before
daylight I was roused by some one, and to my joy, saw Mr. Stokes standing
by me. He had just arrived with the cutter, having kept his wind till the
sea fell; and since that time had been pulling towards this spot: with what
thankful feelings all hands lay down to sleep may be easily supposed.
"21st. This morning I believe no one waked before ten o'clock. Drying our
clothes, and putting the boats to rights, occupied most of the day. Our
time was now so short, besides having almost expended our provisions, that
I gave up the idea of crossing the Otway Water, and decided to return
nearly the way we came, after taking a view from the higher ground.
"22d. A sharp frost, during the past night and this day, hardened the
ground, and with four of my boat's crew, I walked to the Beagle Hills. Our
way led through a scattered wood, the only one seen on the north side of
the channel, and in which most of the trees appeared to have been burned.
We gained the summit of the heights soon after noon, and were amply
rewarded by an extensive view.
"Although not more than eight hundred feet above the sea, I could discern
the Gregory Hills (so plainly as to make out their yellowish brown colour);
Cape Bartholomew, Nassau Island; Cape Monmouth; the high peaks over Cape
Froward; the range of mountains thence to the Jerome Channel, and from the
Jerome, westward to all those about Cape Phillip, and Cape Parker; and the
whole extent of the Otway and Skyring Waters; the latter being bounded to
the N.W. by down-like hills, about six or eight hundred feet high. North of
the Beagle Hills, a range of similar downs extended; and to the east was a
succession of lagoons, completely intersecting the flat country towards
Pecket Harbour.
"We left a memorial, cut in lead, at the foot of a post sunk in the ground;
but the air was so cold, that the men, who wished to add their names, were
unable to mark them on the lead. It was eight o'clock before we regained
our bivouac, much fatigued by the day's work.
"23d. I went into a wigwam, where there was a woman {234} and two children.
A rough likeness made of her did not please at all, because it was white:
she took out her red paint, and put some on her own cheeks, as drawn on the
paper, and then was quite satisfied, sitting as still as a mouse, while I
made another sketch. In return for the compliment paid to her countenance,
she daubed my face, as well as my coxswain's, with the same red mixture.
"24th. A sharp frost during the night. We left Donkin Cove, as soon as I
had taken observations for the chronometers. A fine breeze in our favour
carried us rapidly along, and at dusk we were near Englefield Island. The
last few nights have been so clear, that two or three of the men, and
myself, have slept in the open air without any other covering than our
blanket-bags, and clothes. My cloak has been frozen hard over me every
morning; yet I never slept more soundly, nor was in better health.
"We had a good view of Mount Misery this day. It is about 3,000 feet in
height; twice as high as the surrounding mountains, and quite bare, even of
snow, on the summit. The night tides here rise more than those of the day
at this season: the times of high water do not differ much on the opposite
shores. About an hour after dusk we reached Englefield Island, having made
a capital run, with a fresh and fair wind. Creeping in the dark, along
shore, we at last found shelter for the boats, and formed a snug place
amongst the bushes for our tent and fires. One of my boat's crew was ill
this day; the first man that had been seriously so, although several had
been slightly affected by the muscles and limpets; and one had fits. A
draught of hot port wine and Winter's-bark, certainly seemed to be an
efficient medicine for the slighter complaints.
"25th. Blowing strong from the westward, with much rain. I forced a way,
with much difficulty, among thick bushes, to the top of the island, and
when I got there found, to my mortification, that by no possible
contrivance could I see round, for I was encompassed by lofty trees of
nearly equal height.
"26th. We crossed over to the east shore: the temperature of {235} the
water, between Englefield Island and the nearest land, one foot beneath the
surface, was 42deg; the air at the same time being 38deg. While the sea
water preserves this temperature, it must tend much to moderate the
severity of cold, one would naturally expect in this latitude, near so many
snow-covered mountains. We arrived at the Point of Islets, soon after
sunset, on the 27th.
"28th. Almost every night I observed that the wind subsided soon after
sunset, the clouds passed away, and the first part of the night was very
fine; but that, towards morning, wind and clouds generally succeeded. From
Point of Islets, we sailed southward; and were again close to the
mountains: from whose appearance at this spot, no one would suppose that
any passage lay between them; so intricate and winding are the channels.
"I was sorry to leave the open country, behind me; but time pressed; and
there was yet much to do with our loaded boats, which could not make very
great progress in the short daylight afforded by this season. After passing
Bennett Island the land became rugged, and mountainous on each side,
covered, however, with wood and vegetation wherever it could grow; and we
were again in the Magalhaenic regions.
"This day I examined as much of the west side of the channel, as time would
allow, and reached Corona Creek at about eight o'clock. What I called the
Sugar Loaf must be the Corona Island of Cordova's officers; for at some
distance it looks somewhat like a crown. It is singular that they inserted
(in their chart) an island near their Corona, which cannot be distinguished
from the main-land, until one is within two miles of it; and as at that
distance the Otway Water is plainly visible, must they not have seen the
opening? Tired of their job, did they return without prosecuting the
discovery, or was the weather too thick to see far? Their description of
the Jerome Channel, leads to the supposition of a continual current setting
through in one direction, instead of a regular ebb and flood; and the
surest sign of a passage between places in Tierra del Fuego, is a current
or stream. {236} Many large inlets and sounds look like channels; but on
going a short distance into them, you find dead water.
"29th. We passed through Jerome Channel, and reached the bar, off Bachelor
River, after dark; but the cutter got aground, and gave us some trouble to
float her again. Afterwards one of the men was landed on the bar, and by
his walking in the deepest water, and the whale-boat going next, we got
into the little river at nine o'clock, not sorry to be in safety. There are
tide races between the Jerome Channel, and Bachelor River, which are
sometimes dangerous; but as the breeze was moderate, we passed them without
difficulty.
"May 30th. Employed chiefly in stowing the cutter afresh, packing
specimens, and preparing my boat to take what remained of our provisions.
At two next morning, when the tide served, Mr. Stokes set out to return to
the Beagle: and having both wind and tide in his favour arrived early at
Port Gallant.
"The wind increased after daylight, and blew strong, with squalls. I waited
a short time, but, having no hopes of its improving, left the river. My
boat was much lumbered, having the chronometer-box, and more instruments
than before; yet she pulled pretty well, even against the heavy squalls.
After landing at the west side of the entrance to the Jerome Channel, to
take bearings and angles, we pulled along shore to the westward, and at
dark hauled the boat up in a small sheltered corner. After she was secured,
we employed ourselves looking for limpets and muscles for supper, by the
light of a lanthorn, as we had good appetites, and our provisions were
scanty.
"June 1st. We pulled along shore against a strong and squally wind, and
before evening nearly reached Cape Quod; but not being able to pass it,
stopped in a cove on the east side.
"2d. At the oars again, early, having a fine clear morning, with the tide
rather in our favour. By eleven, Cape Quod was astern of us; and a long
view of the Strait presented itself. This part is very rugged and barren,
and looks triste, indeed; still wherever a tree can take root it tries to
grow. This night was passed on a small island at the west point of Snowy
Sound.
{237}
"3d. We began at daylight, and worked, from point to point, up the sound,
thinking it a channel. Two good anchorages were found on the west side, but
none on the east, except a trifling cove between the little island and the
land, which would only shelter a small vessel. The night was passed on an
island five miles within the sound. It rained hard for an hour before we
landed, and all the night afterwards. Our rest was not the most
satisfactory, as the ground was wet and swampy.
"Two of the boat's crew got into a hole under a tree thinking they should
be warm; but in the middle of the night they complained of not being able
to get up, and of being half frozen.
"4th. The rain ceased at times this morning, but the wind continued. After
going to the top of an island, we pulled and sailed onwards, not having a
doubt of soon getting into Whale Sound. At noon, the passage appeared
suspiciously small; yet I could not doubt the fine large opening laid down
in our old charts, and proceeded until the shore made a sudden turn, when,
to my astonishment, I saw a high black cliff stopping farther progress.
After a hearty growl, we turned back, and landed to look for a sleeping
place. Not a spot could we find that was not wet like a sponge; but night
was closing in, and obliged us to stay where we were. It was bitterly cold,
all of us were wet through, the ground was a mere swamp, we could not get a
fire to burn, and the frost was sharp.
"After daylight on the 5th, we succeeded in making a large fire, and spent
two hours drying our clothes and warming ourselves. In order to lighten the
boat, no one carried more clothes, since leaving the cutter, than those he
wore, except one shirt. We hastened back towards Charles Island, passing
some very remarkable glaciers, one of which looked like an enormous frozen
river, covering the whole side of a mountain. Many portions were of a
transparent blue colour, which, contrasted with the snowy whiteness of
others, and with the dark shadows of bare rocky places, had a very striking
effect. At noon, we passed out of the sound, and steered for Charles
Island, with a {238} light breeze in our favour. Seeing a canoe coming
across, we made towards it, and found a wretched-looking family, consisting
of a man, his wife, and three children, with some small dogs, seemingly
more miserable than their owners. A few wooden-headed spears were all the
property they possessed, excepting the worn-out skins thrown over their
shoulders. The man sold me a little dog for a bit of tobacco, and
afterwards wanted to have him again, because his wife would not consent to
the bargain. However, I kept the dog, and they began to abuse us in right
earnest, the woman alternately crying and scolding, and the man apparently
calling on the wind and water to destroy us. His gestures were very
expressive and animated. I was surprised to see so much feeling for a
wretched little half-starved puppy, and made them happy by returning him,
without asking for the tobacco.
"El Morrion(p) (the helmet) was certainly an excellent name for the
promontory we passed this day. It reminded me of the 'Castle of Otranto.'
"We reached a small islet, at the west point of Charles Bay, and passed a
good night on the top of a bare rock. So often had we slept in wet places,
that a dry, though stony berth, was thought very comfortable. The boat's
two sails, oars, and boat-hook, formed our tent.
"6th. We left the islet as soon after day-light as we could get breakfast,
and take the required bearings and angles; went into Spot Cove, thence
crossed to Charles Island, and to the narrow opening between it and the
nearest land. Ulloa's memory can no longer be preserved here in an island,
though it may in a peninsula. This small channel is narrow, and has a
strong tide setting through it. There is anchorage all the way, though
generally over a rocky bottom, and it is navigable for small vessels: its
average width is a quarter of a mile, and its length about three miles. For
a boat going westward through the Strait, it is far preferable to the
regular channel. Two old Fuegians were living here, a man and a woman.
"When in Whale Sound, appearances were such that had I {239} not been to
the bottom of Snowy Sound, I should have thought they joined. After going
far enough, to see quite to the end, we returned, hauled the boat on a
shingle beach, and secured her for the time. When a bit of shingle beach
could be found, it was a prize; for on it we could always make a good tent,
and have a dry bed, besides hauling the boat up easily. There is a greater
rise and fall of tide here, than at the other side of Charles Island, being
not less than seven or eight feet, at springs. During the night, a dog
stole a small piece of pork, which we had reserved for our last dinner;
and, until his track was discovered, there was no little distrust among our
party.
"Whale Sound is a large and deep inlet, ending in a valley between
mountains. On the south side, a vessel may anchor in one place, at the west
side of Last Harbour; but there, though the harbour appears large, the
anchorage is small, and close to the shore. We pulled and sailed along the
south shore, landing occasionally to take bearings, until we reached
Choiseul Bay, and in a cove, at its west side, we passed the night. This is
a place no ship need approach: it is a large, deceiving bay, full of islets
and patches of kelp, under which, probably, there are rocks, and between
the islets the water is deep and unfit for anchorage. The temperature of
the sea this day, in the middle of the sound, one foot below the surface,
was 45deg.
"8th. As it rained heavily, we remained under such shelter as we could
obtain; and prepared for our return to the Beagle, by making use of the
only razor we had. When the rain ceased, we left the cove and sailed across
to Port Gallant, with a fresh breeze. The smoke of natives' fires was seen
near the entrance of the Barbara Channel; and on Prince Island, where we
stopped a few minutes, the first man seen had on an old pair of sailor's
trowsers, which he had obtained from the Beagle, tied round his legs in six
places. The wigwam these people were living in was not half covered: both
wind and rain passed through it. How they bear the cold is surprising,
being without clothes: one minute sitting close to the fire, and the next
perhaps up to the waist in water, getting muscles or sea-eggs. The women
dive for sea-eggs, even in the middle of winter; {240} but the water is
never very cold (42deg to 44deg).(q) In the afternoon we saw the Beagle's
mast-heads, and soon afterwards arrived on board, and enjoyed the happiness
of finding all hands well, and every thing ready for farther progress.
Lieutenant Kempe had turned the few hours of light, each day afforded, to
the best account. Those who have had the care of ships in remote places,
will know my feelings at finding all as it should be, after a long absence,
in a country little known. Not a man had been ill; and the weather had been
very tolerable compared with what was expected. There was less snow on the
mountains than when I left Port Gallant early in May. One thing only
disappointed me,--the Adelaide had not arrived. It was past the time
appointed for her, but she might have found much more to do than was
expected, or might have been obliged to return by the Magdalen, instead of
coming through the Barbara Channel.
"During my absence, two sealing vessels had been at Port Gallant, on their
way through the Strait. From one (an American), which arrived on the 7th of
May from Staten Land, information was received that the Adventure had not
been there. The Chanticleer had remained some time, but had sailed for the
Cape of Good Hope. The master of the American had a brother staying with a
boat's crew in Staten Land, during the whole of April, who would probably
have seen the Adventure, had she called. The other was Mr. Cutler's vessel,
the Uxor, bound to the United States; he had been through a channel which
leads from the Gulf of Trinidad to Cape Tamar, and spoke well of it; but
could give no drawing, nor precise information; having passed through
rapidly.
"Lieutenant Kempe had been at the summit of the Mountain de la Cruz, and
left a memorial. No rare animals had been seen, nor any new birds. Small
fish were still caught with hook and line, but very few with the seine.
"I never was fully aware of the comfort of a bed until this {241} night.
Not even a frost-bitten foot could prevent me from sleeping soundly for the
first time during many nights.
"9th. At one o'clock this day, I heard an exclamation of 'The schooner!'
and soon saw her standing across from the Barbara Channel with a fair wind.
Before she anchored in Port Gallant, I went on board, and, to my joy, found
Lieutenants Skyring and Graves, and all their companions well, having
thoroughly completed the work they had to perform, without loss, or even an
accident. The difficulty of their task was increased by very bad weather;
but they succeeded in tracing and surveying the Magdalen Channel to its
junction with the sea, and thence returned by the Barbara Channel to Port
Gallant; carrying on a regular chain of triangles, and connecting their
work with points previously fixed in the Strait of Magalhaens. A multitude
of small islands, and much bad weather, detained them longer than was
expected.
"While Lieutenants Skyring and Graves, assisted by Mr. Kirke, were employed
surveying, Mr. Bynoe collected geological and other specimens.[129]
"11th. We had nearly reached the shortest day; the sun did not rise above
the hills until past eleven; it disappeared again before two (the land
being less high towards the N.W.), and even in those three hours was seldom
visible.
"12th. Finding that Lieutenant Skyring agreed with me in thinking that the
channel from Cape Tamar to the Gulf of Trinidad might be surveyed by the
Adelaide, in her way to San Carlos de Chiloe, I resolved to send him and
Lieutenant Graves on that service, hoping that it would lead to the
discovery of a passage into the Skyring Water, and give vessels another way
of getting into or out of the Strait, should thick weather or adverse winds
oppose them in the usual channel.
"In making this arrangement there was much to be considered. As I had
received no orders from Captain King to employ the Adelaide in surveying,
after her return from the Magdalen Channel; and as I had been desired to
repair, with her, to San Carlos, in Chiloe, during which voyage Lieutenant
{242} Skyring was to be on board his own vessel, the Beagle, it would be
incurring considerable responsibility, to order a new piece of service to
be undertaken, which might not be successful; and would require officers,
men, a boat, provisions, and stores from the Beagle.
"I did not doubt that the measure would be approved by Captain King,
because he had discussed the feasibility of such a plan with me, and had
expressed a wish that it should be tried; but as I had not received any
orders, I could not decide without anxiety.
"Another, though a minor difficulty, arose from sending Lieutenant Skyring
in command of the Adelaide, over Lieutenant Graves, her proper commander,
who had expected to take her to Chiloe, and was quite competent to
undertake this or any other service in which she might be employed. Both
these officers excelled in their professional duties; but Skyring had been
on the western coasts of Patagonia before, and was the senior.
"Much to the credit of Lieutenant Graves, he removed one weight, by
volunteering to go any where I thought proper to direct, either alone or
with Lieutenant Skyring, and the necessary orders were forthwith given.
(See Appendix). Mr. Kirke was again to form one of their party, as well as
Mr. Bynoe, who exchanged temporarily with Mr. Park. The Beagle's whale-boat
was also lent, with five able seamen to man her; and good care was taken
that nothing the ship could give should be wanting in their outfit for a
service which, at that time of year, must be severe and tedious.
"Anchors and cables, hawsers and kedges, were abundantly supplied, because
in warping into unknown places, or anchoring hastily, many an anchor is
unavoidably broken or lost.
"The boat's crew, who had been away with the Adelaide, and were going in
her again, were supplied with extra clothing at the expense of Government,
the wear and tear of their clothes having been far beyond what they could
be expected to make good out of their pay.
{243}
"As an instance, I may mention, that a careful north countryman carried
with him, when he left the Beagle, two new pair of shoes (besides those on
his feet), and three pair of new stockings: but brought back only a ragged
pair of stockings and the remains of one shoe. The others had been fairly
worn out, or lost, in scrambling over rocks and ascending mountains.
"One height ascended by Lieutenant Skyring was so steep, that the men were
obliged to pass the instruments from one to another, at a great risk of
their own lives; and when they reached the summit, the wind was so strong,
that a heavy theodolite and stand, firmly placed, was blown over; and even
a Kater's compass could scarcely be used.
"With good clothing and provisions, weather may be almost defied, and work
may be done at the less unfavourable times; but without them, ill-humour
and ill-health must inevitably appear in such a climate as this.
"14th, Sunday. I had the satisfaction of keeping this day in a proper
manner, for the first time since we entered the Strait. So much had
depended upon employing every minute of our time while the weather would
allow, that there had been little distinction of days.
"17th. The morning being fine, with not much wind, though a sharp frost, I
left the ship with Mr. Murray and four men, and landed in Fortescue Bay,
intending to ascend the mountain 'De la Cruz,' if the snow and ice did not
prevent me.
"On the beach, close to the water, I suspended the mountain barometer, and
let it remain half an hour before we began the ascent, which, from the snow
lying so deep, was troublesome; for at one step a hard rock received one's
foot, and at the next, perhaps, a deep hole amongst broken trees. Sometimes
we tumbled head foremost into soft snow, slightly covering rotten mossy
boughs and swampy ground; and at others, slipped between the concealed
trunks of trees, which, though much decayed, were hard enough to cause many
a bruise. Each movement of our arms or legs shook down a shower of snow
from the trees, among which we were forcing our way.
"At noon we gained the part that is clear of wood, but {244} so very steep
and slippery was the summit, that we were obliged to go on our hands and
knees, forcing them as deeply into the snow as possible, to avoid sliding
down again. The highest point is not visible from Port Gallant.
"While I took angles with the theodolite, the seamen made a fire. It was
well we carried some fuel and a tinder-box, with a sheet of copper, upon
which to kindle it; for without a fire we should have been quite numbed.
Standing in one place for two hours, after being much warmed by exertion,
made us more sensible of the cold. The highest spot is but a few yards
wide, and by barometrical measurement is 2,280 feet above the sea.[130] The
height is, in truth, small; but as the mountain is so steep, and rises so
abruptly from the sea, it appears considerable.
"When we had finished our observations with the barometer and theodolite,
we deposited a Memorial, containing a list of the officers and crews of the
Beagle and Adelaide--an account of the object of their voyage, how far it
had succeeded, and where we were going--and a collection of coins,
well-soldered up in a tin case--upon the bare rock; and made a great pile
of stones over it.
"Having again examined the barometer, we began to descend; for the sun
disappearing behind the distant mountains, warned us that it was time to
return. We had enjoyed a magnificent view on all sides, and were reluctant
to leave our station. In descending, we made rapid progress at first,
sliding many yards together down the soft snow; but, by the time we reached
the woody part, it was getting dark, and having foolishly tried to return
by a straight line, instead of going round, we found steep cliffs, and
ravines covered with rotten trees, which perplexed us exceedingly.
Darkness, and the deep snow, much increased our dilemma; yet we could not
resist laughing heartily at the ludicrous scrapes some of the party got
into: one man was rather a-head, looking for a way to descend a steep
place, when the snow slipped from under him, and down he went, about eighty
feet, partly sliding, {245} partly falling, but quite against his consent.
What he did by accident, we were obliged to do, because there was no
alternative; so away we slid, one after another, like so many sledges upon
Russian ice-hills, holding the instruments as we could, by one hand, while
the other was employed to check or steady us. With a little more of this
sort of work, and some struggling through the wood at the bottom, we
reached the shore, where a boat was waiting for us, and at about eight
arrived on board, in a half-wet, half-frozen condition.[131]
"19th. Every thing was brought on board, the ship unmoored, and all made
ready for our departure next morning.
"20th. Sailed from Port Gallant, leaving the Adelaide to rate her
chronometers, and rejoin us before leaving the Strait. In the evening we
anchored in Elizabeth Bay, after a severe day's struggle against a strong
and contrary wind, with much rain.
"21st. Blowing hard again this morning from the N.W., with a great deal of
rain. Weighed and made sail under reefed courses and treble reefed
topsails, but the wind and tide were more than a match for us, so we stood
across into Whale Sound, and worked up under the lee of Carlos Island,
finding the tide there rather in our favour. The 'williwaws' (I know no
better name for the sudden gusts that come off the high land) gave us some
trouble, occasionally laying us almost on our beam ends. At half past two I
was induced to anchor under the lee of the south-east extremity of Carlos
Island, and thought our day's work was repaid by a snug position close to a
weather-shore, besides having made some little progress; but after dark the
wind became more violent, and a williwaw drove us out into deep water. We
set the storm sails, which, with the weather-tide, known to be then making
strongly, I hoped would take her a-head sufficiently to clear Rupert Island
(lying under our lee), and all hands then went to the capstan; but while
heaving-in the cable, our bower anchor again caught the ground and brought
us up. We veered away cable {246} directly, let go another anchor, and rode
out the rest of the gale, which was extremely violent, without driving.
"The instant our anchor caught, I knew we must be on a ridge, of which
Lieut. Skyring had spoken to me, lying between Rupert and Carlos Islands,
across which the tide makes strongly, at the rate of about three knots.
Rupert Island was still under our lee, distant less than half a mile.
"22d. Blowing hard and raining. At 9 A.M. it cleared and moderated, but so
strong a tide set past us, to the south, that we could not attempt to
weigh. It differs here from that in mid-channel by two hours, which may
much assist a vessel if she manages so as to take eight hours tide in her
favour.
"At eleven we unmoored, and got ready for moving at the turn of tide.[132]
At one we weighed and made sail with a moderate wind from N.W., and by
keeping close to Carlos Island, and making short boards, we had a
weather-tide, while in the fairway of the Strait the stream was running to
the S.E. We anchored in Bachelor's Bay (or York Roads), choosing an outside
berth in order to have more room to weigh again and work with the morning
tide. It blew hard in the night, but we rode securely, although the tide
ran at least three knots where we were.
"23d. We started and worked to the westward, and at nine were abreast of
Borja Bay; but by trying for too much, nearly lost all that we had gained,
for in standing across from the bay, hoping to weather Cape Quod, the flood
tide took us so strongly, that it cost three hours close working to get to
an anchor even in Borja Bay. We had rain and sleet continually through the
day, and it blew hard at night, but as plenty of chain was out, the
topsails and courses were close reefed, and the top-gallant masts on deck,
we were ready for anything.
"24th. Heavy squalls, with almost constant rain, prevented our moving
westward, and similar weather continued throughout the day, becoming worse
at night. Had we had plenty of provisions I should not have minded this
delay, because we might have remained at anchor till it was over; but so
much {247} had been said about the difficulty sometimes found in working
through the Strait, that it concerned us greatly not to lose a chance of
making progress. During this night the squalls were very heavy. The holding
ground must have been excellent, for williwaws drove the ship from one side
to the other as if she had been a chip upon the water.
"26th. Weighed this morning, weathered Cape Quod, and worked to the
westward, the weather having cleared and become very fine. The part where
most tide is felt was then past. Cape Quod projects so far south that the
Strait is there extremely narrow, and though very deep, has a strong tide.
"27th. At daylight we found ourselves to windward of Marian's Cove. Looking
eastward upon the land about Cape Quod, it has a very bleak and rugged
appearance. The almost perennial west winds prevent vegetation from growing
on the heights exposed to their action. Hence the desolate look of the
western shores of Tierra del Fuego. We saw a sail beyond Cape Notch, and,
just before we moored, close to the shore in Half-port Cove, we made her
out to be the Adelaide.
"28th. A bad morning, snowy and blowing, but the wind being moderate
between the squalls, I went in a whale boat to examine the Gulf of
Xaultegua, and pulled along the south shore towards Cape Monday. Having
gained some distance to windward, while the snow was so thick it was
impossible to see the shore, we made sail across the Strait, and hit the
place within a cable's length. When the snow ceased falling, we saw a large
space of water before us, the land opposite being at least five miles
distant. We sailed towards a strange looking islet in the middle of the
gulf, very similar to the old mouldering figures of the fabled Sphinx, but
the snow becoming again almost incessant, only allowing us to see our way
at intervals, while the wind was too strong for even a close reefed sail,
we landed, and hauled the boat up on an island. I was in hopes of finding
an opening which would lead me to the Skyring Water; and my boat's crew,
being almost as eager as I was, cared little for the wind or snow. This
night we made a larger tent than usual, with a top-gallant studding sail,
and {248} the consequence was, we were extremely cold, as there was a sharp
frost, and the snow was lying every where very deep. Next night we were
wiser, and reduced our tent to the smallest dimensions.
"29th. Early in the morning we resumed our search. I had a chronometer with
me, but as we never saw the sun, nor even a star, I should have been as
well without it. We pulled and sailed towards the northernmost corner
first, but found no opening, and went thence to the eastward, with a strong
and favourable breeze. Passing Still-hope Point I felt sure of finding a
passage, for before me were the tops of mountains seen from the Otway
Water. I was, however, deceived, the gulf ended in two bights, or inlets,
unconnected with other waters: so we returned to Still-hope Point and
hauled up the boat. The night passed very well, in a snug place among
trees, although the snow was falling thickly. Early next morning we left
the shore, having employed a quarter of an hour in clearing the snow out of
our boat. When we started, it snowed fast but without wind, and we steered
by compass for the Sphinx. I sketched what I could see of the south side of
this gulf, but did not consider it worth delaying longer, in such weather,
for so unimportant a place, while anxious that the Beagle should reach
Chiloe before her provisions were expended, and that I should fall in with
the Adelaide before leaving the Strait. If ever a minute survey is made of
this gulf, it should be after all others have been examined, as it is
utterly useless. The temperature of the water within it we found to be
40deg Fahr. We landed on St. Anne's Island, having run near thirty miles
since the morning, and thence we sailed across the Strait, reached His
Majesty's little vessel, and found that the Adelaide had not yet passed by.
All looked cold and wintry, every thing being covered with snow; and our
sails were hard frozen, for the first time.
"July 1st. After beating loose the sails, we stood out in the ship to meet
the Adelaide, which was seen coming towards us. I went on board, and found
every one well. They too, in attempting to anchor off Carlos Island, had,
like ourselves, been driven {249} out: we compared chronometers, and
supplied her with a few things not thought of before (keeping under all
sail meanwhile to profit by an easterly wind); and the Beagle's officers
lent the Adelaide their own stove.
"In the afternoon, we parted company; the Adelaide stood towards Upright
Bay, and anchored at dusk, while we steered out of the Strait, with a
freshening breeze from the east, which increased much as we made westing.
At midnight, we were in the Pacific, and all our anxiety about weeks of
beating to windward upon short allowance of provisions, vanished as quickly
as the land astern. The glass falling, with the wind in the S.E. quarter,
foretold unusually bad weather; we therefore shortened sail by degrees,
making all secure.
"2d. At six o'clock in the morning, it was blowing a gale of wind, with so
much sea, that it was necessary to steer right before it,--or
heave-to,--which with a fair wind was not preferable; and we found the
vessel scud extremely well, under close reefed fore and main topsails, and
double reefed foresail. Our quarter boats caused anxiety, for the davits
were low, and at every lurch the boats were risked. Frequently they dipped
in the sea, and sometimes were half filled; but they hung fast till by a
moment's neglect of the steerage, a sea broke over the whale-boat, and
carried her away. The other, being much smaller and stronger, held on well,
though frequently under water. Towards midnight the gale broke; by the next
morning the weather was more moderate; and from that time it continued
fine, until our arrival at Chiloe.
"On the 5th, at daylight, we saw land at a great distance, which afterwards
proved to be the Island of Guafo, and in the afternoon the south end of
Chiloe was seen.
"On the 8th, we were working towards the Port of San Carlos, being off
Point Huapilacuy, and next day (9th) anchored in the port of San Carlos,
which seemed to be well sheltered by a country, the appearance of which was
very agreeable when contrasted with that of Tierra del Fuego.
"The town reminded me of a Cornish village. I thought, from their
appearance and colour, that the houses were built {250} of stone, and
roofed with slate; but afterwards found they were of wood, from their
foundations, to the tops of their roofs. Except a few cleared spaces, the
island is entirely covered with trees, even on the highest hills. The
Captain of the Port (an Englishman) boarded us as we neared the anchorage,
and was very obliging in his offers. From him I learnt that the Adventure
had not yet arrived, nor even been heard of on the coast. We anchored under
the lee of Barcacura Heights, in a good berth, and moored ship. I went on
shore immediately, and paid my respects to the Governor, Don Jose Santiago
Aldunate, a brigadier-general in the Chilian Service, whose kind manner,
and friendly offers of every assistance he could render us, were very
gratifying. From the master of a merchant ship, lately arrived, I was
surprised and concerned to learn, that the Adventure had not reached
Valparaiso before the time of his sailing thence (20th of June).[133]
"Refitting the Beagle, repairing and building boats, occupied most of the
officers, and all the crew, while Mr. Stokes and I were engaged in the work
of the survey, during our stay in the Port of San Carlos. Our ship required
caulking, which, in so rainy a climate, was difficult to accomplish. So
continually wet was the weather, that had we not dried our sails, and
unbent them, during three fine days which we had(r) on our arrival, they
would not have been dry during our stay."
* * * * *
{251}