Adelaide's last cruise--Port Otway--San Quintin--Marine Islands--Unknown
river or passage--San Tadeo--Isthmus of Ofqui--San Rafael--Sufferings and
route of the Wager's party--Channel's Mouth--Byron--Cheap--Elliott--
Hamilton--Campbell--Indian Cacique--Passage of the Desecho--Osorio--
Xavier Island--Jesuit Sound--Kirke's report--Night tides--Guaianeco
Islands--Site of the Wager's wreck--Bulkeley and Cummings--Speedwell
Bay--Indigenous wild potato--Mesier Channel--Fatal Bay--Death of Mr.
Millar--Fallos Channel--Lieutenant Skyring's illness--English Narrow--
Fish--Wigwams--Indians--Level Bay--Brazo Ancho--Eyre Sound--Seal--
Icebergs--Walker Bay--Nature of the country--Habits of the natives--
Scarcity of population.
I will now relate the principal incidents of the Adelaide's last cruise.
The following pages contain extracts from Lieutenant Skyring's journal, and
also notices obtained from other sources.
The Adelaide sailed from Chiloe on the 8th of December 1829, made Cape Tres
Montes on the 14th, and anchored in Port Otway the same evening. Of this
place Lieutenant Skyring writes: "Good anchorage, wood, water, and
shell-fish (such as muscles and clams), Port Otway affords: but no more.
Excepting in one or two sandy bights, a landing is hardly to be effected;
walking along shore is impossible, and it is scarcely practicable to enter
the country, the land being so thickly wooded, from the summits of the
hills down to the water-side. No soil is to be discovered; the shrubs, and
even the trees, which are of large growth, rise out of moss, or decomposed
vegetable substances. The climate is very wet; none but amphibious animals
were seen, among which hair-seals were numerous. There were very few birds,
excepting turkey buzzards; and not a trace of human beings; indeed, I do
not believe Indians ever go there--(y) they rarely leave the direct
channels; as a proof {324} of which, some articles left by the Beagle, in a
conspicuous place, were found by us untouched." During the Adelaide's stay
at Port Otway, the openings on the east side of Hoppner Sound were
explored, yet they proved to be only small inlets. Mr. Kirke examined some,
which appeared to communicate with San Quintin Sound; but found them to be
merely channels dividing the group of the Marine Islands,[175] excepting
the most southern, which is the entrance of Newman Inlet, a deep bight,
without anchorage, but abounding with hair-seal.
From Byron's Narrative it would appear, that there is a channel somewhere
hereabouts communicating with the Gulf of San Rafael, to the east of the
Peninsula of Tres Montes; for the Indian guide wanted to conduct the
Wager's barge through it, but was prevented by the strength of the current.
The Adelaide sailed from Port Otway on the 18th, and the same evening
reached San Quintin Sound, anchoring opposite an opening northward of
Dead-tree Island, that proved to be the mouth of the River San Tadeo, by
which Byron and his unfortunate companions effected their escape to Chiloe.
The sufferings of this party, which are so affectingly described in Byron's
narrative of the loss of the Wager, made so deep an impression on our
minds, that I thought it not irrelevant to the object of this voyage to
endeavour to trace their steps. Among the numerous incidents that occurred
to them, the passage of the 'Desecho,' or carrying-place over the Isthmus
of Ofqui, is, from all the circumstances connected with it, one of the most
interesting. It may be remembered, that, upon the departure of Captain
Cheap, and his shipwrecked crew, from the place of the wreck (Byron's
Narrative, p. 69), they proceeded round the shores of the Gulf of Penas,
with an intention of tracing the Coast of Chiloe. They first attempted to
steer for Cape Tres Montes, which headland they had seen, in one of the
intervals of fair weather, from the summit of Mount Misery, and which
appeared to be twenty or thirty leagues distant. The wind, {325} however,
freshened to a gale, and they were obliged to run before it, and throw all
their provisions overboard to lighten the boat.
At night they took refuge in a small opening, which led to a secure
harbour, and next day advanced a little farther, till they reached some
small islands, where they were detained three or four days by bad weather.
After leaving that place, they found an opening, into which they rowed,
flattering themselves it would prove to be a passage; but, being
disappointed, they were obliged to return. This was probably the inlet,
called 'Channel's Mouth.' Xavier Island was the next place they went to,
named by them Montrose Island. Byron describes this island so exactly, that
there cannot be the least doubt of its identity. "The next morning," he
says, "being calm, we rowed out; but as soon as clear of the island, we
found a great swell from the westward: we rowed to the bottom of a very
large bay, which was to northward of us, the land very low, and we were in
hopes of finding some inlet through, but did not; so kept along shore to
the westward. This part, which I take to be fifty leagues from Wager
Island, is the very bottom of the large bay it lies in. Here was the only
passage to be found, which (if we could by any means have got information
of it) would have saved us much fruitless labour. Of this passage I shall
have occasion to say more hereafter."--Byron's Nar. p. 74. This is
evidently San Quintin Sound. They proceeded to the westward and northward,
entered a larger bay (Holloway Sound), and discovered another headland at a
great distance to the westward (Cape Tres Montes), which they reached with
much difficulty; but being unable to get round it, and losing the boat that
accompanied them, besides being obliged to leave four of the marines
behind, they became quite disheartened, and returned to Wager Island, to
linger out their miserable lives, without the least prospect of again
seeing home. This expedition occupied two months, during which they lived
principally upon sea-weed, called 'tangle;' but sometimes passed whole days
without eating anything at all. While they {326} were absent, some Indians
had visited the wreck; and, about a fortnight after their return, they
arrived a second time, in two canoes. Among them was an Indian Cacique of
the Chonos tribe, who live in the neighbourhood of Chiloe. It was supposed
that a report of the wreck had reached that place; and that this Cacique,
and another Indian, had come to derive some advantage from it. As the
Cacique spoke Spanish, the surgeon, Mr. Elliot, made himself so far
understood, as to let him know that they wished to reach some of the
Spanish settlements; and eventually bargained to give him the barge, and
every thing in it, if he would conduct them to Chiloe. The party consisted
of Captain Cheap; Mr. Elliot, the surgeon; Mr. Campbell, Mr. Hamilton, and
Mr. Byron, midshipmen; and eight men, besides the two Indians; in all
fifteen. The first night they slept on an island, and the next laid upon
their oars, to the westward of Montrose Island, not being able to land.
They then pulled, "to the bottom of a great bay, where the Indian guide had
left his family, a wife and two children." There they staid two or three
days; after which, taking on board the family, they proceeded to a river,
"the stream of which," Byron says, "was so rapid, that after our utmost
efforts, from morning to evening, we gained little upon the current; and,
at last, were obliged to desist from our attempts, and return."
This was probably a river, or channel, to the westward of San Quintin
Sound, which eluded our search; and, if so, it must communicate with
channels north-eastward of the Peninsula of Tres Montes. The Indians,
anxious to get the barge to the Chonos, had no other way to effect their
purpose; for the usual route was over the 'Desecho;' to pass which, it was
necessary to take a boat or canoe to pieces, and carry her, piecemeal, over
a high mountain.
After losing the barge, they crossed the Peninsula of Forelius, by hauling
canoes over a narrow neck of land, and reached the water of San Quintin
Sound; where they met another native family, with whom they proceeded to
the River San Tadeo, "up which they rowed four or five leagues; and then
{327} took to a branch of it that ran first to the eastward, and then to
the northward." There they landed, took the canoes to pieces, and carried
them over the isthmus; then putting them together again, re-embarked, and
proceeded through the Chonos Archipelago to Chiloe.
When at Chiloe, I saw an old man, Pedro Osorio, who had been in two of the
last missionary voyages (in 1769 and 1778), to the Guaineco Islands; where
the Wager was wrecked. He related to me the particulars of these voyages,
and gave me an account of the 'Desecho,' over which the missionaries
transported their piraguas. He also remembered Byron and his companions;
and described them by the following names:--Don David (Captain David
Cheap); Don Juan (John Byron); Hamerton (Hamilton); and Plasta. The name
Plasta is not once mentioned in Byron's Narrative; but on referring to
Bulkeley's and Cumming's account, one Plastow is described as the captain's
servant; and perhaps he was one of the number who remained with Captain
Cheap.(z) Pedro Osorio must have been upwards of ninety years of age, in
1829.(a) A detailed account of these voyages is given in Agueros's
Historical Description of the province of Chiloe, p. 205.
Captain Stokes's 'Dead-tree Island,' in the entrance of San Estevan Gulf,
is near the 'Cirujano Island' (Surgeon Island) of those voyages. Pedro
Osorio told me that it was so called, because the surgeon of the Wager died
there. From Byron's Narrative it would appear, that the surgeon died, and
was buried, just before they embarked to cross the sound.--See Byron, p.
147.
As the examination of the River San Tadeo, and the discovery of the
'Desecho,' formed a part of Lieutenant Skyring's instructions, he proceeded
up it, in a whale-boat, accompanied by Mr. Kirke. The entrance of the river
is blocked up by a bar of sand and stones, which, at low spring-tide, must
be nearly dry; and a heavy swell breaks upon its whole length, joining the
surf of the beach, on each side; so that there is {328} no deep channel;
and, except in very fine weather, an attempt to cross is hazardous.
At its mouth, the breadth is about a quarter of a mile, but within the
entrance it increases for a short distance: at three miles up, it is three
hundred yards, and thence gradually diminishes. The shores are a mixture of
clay and sand; and the country, on both sides, is low and marshy, abounding
with brant-geese, ducks, teal, and snipe.
The land, near the mouth of the river, is studded with dead trees (a
species of pine, about twenty feet high), which appear to have been killed
by the sea overflowing the banks;(b) as it does at high-water for several
miles.
Three miles from the entrance this river divides into two branches, one
leading N.W., and the other eastward. Considering the latter, from Byron's
description, to be the proper course, Lieutenant Skyring followed it. At
nine miles from the mouth, a stream was found falling into the river from
the north, in every respect differing from the principal stream; the water
being fresh, dark, and clear, and the current constantly running down,
uninfluenced by the tide; while the water of the river was brackish and
turbid, and affected by the ebbing and flowing of the tide, although, at
that distance, its effect was much diminished.
The shores of the Black River, as this new stream was called, are thickly
wooded, which is not the case with the principal stream. They had entered
it about a hundred yards before they discovered that they had left the main
river; but being desirous of proceeding, they followed its windings, the
next day, for three leagues; during the greater part of which distance,
they found a strong current against them, and were also much impeded by
fallen trees lying in the bed of the river. In many parts they dragged
their boat along by the help of overhanging branches, or projecting roots;
and the width, generally, was not more than fifty yards. As no piragua
could pass there, Lieutenant Skyring felt assured that he was not in the
right stream; therefore, returning to the main river, he proceeded {329} up
it during the next two days. At two miles above the junction, the tide
ceased to be felt; and a rapid current met them, which increased in
strength until they were unable to stem it; and as they were prevented from
tracking the boats, by trees growing on the banks, they could ascend no
farther.
This place was not more than eleven miles from the sea; although, from the
tortuous course of the stream, they had gone double that distance, and were
about two miles from the foot of a mountain, whence the river descends. The
mountain was very high, and the vallies, or ravines, were filled with
glaciers. From Byron's description, it seems probable that Lieutenant
Skyring was near the carrying place; but as further delay could answer no
good end, he very prudently returned, looking carefully about, as he
proceeded, for some signs of a landing-place, but without success. He
re-crossed the bar, reached the Adelaide without accident, and the next day
went on in her to Xavier Island. On the way they passed Dead-tree Island;
where, observing seal on the rocks, a boat was sent ashore, and her crew
succeeded in killing a few sea-elephants, twenty feet long.
Favoured with fine weather, they were enabled to land on the north side of
Xavier Island, to improve the former survey; and in the evening anchored in
Xavier Bay, where they remained four days; during which, Jesuit Sound was
explored, and found to terminate in two narrow inlets. Being a leewardly
opening, it is unfit for any vessel to enter.
The name Jesuit Sound, and those of the two inlets at the bottom, Benito
and Julian, are memorials of the missionaries, who, in the expedition of
1778, entered and explored it.[176] (Agueros, p. 232.)
The Adelaide anchored the next night in Ygnacio Bay, at the south end of
Xavier Island, which Lieutenant Skyring {330} recommends for small vessels;
the depth of water being six or eight fathoms, and the anchorage well
sheltered from the wind.
On the 31st they anchored under the Hazard Islands, in the Channel's Mouth:
"preparatory," writes Lieutenant Skyring, "to commencing new work with the
new year; for since entering the gulf, except while examining the San
Tadeo, we had followed the Beagle's track, and only completed what she left
unfinished; but from this place all would be new. This was the last wild
anchorage she had taken; and although now fixed in the best situation, and
in the height of summer, we found our position almost as dangerous as hers.
"Early on the 1st of January 1830, Mr. Kirke went in a whale-boat to
examine the openings, at the mouth of which we had anchored: he returned on
the 9th, having traced to the end, all which had the least appearance of
being channels. The two largest, the south and the east, penetrated into
the Cordillera for thirty miles. All these inlets are narrow but deep arms
of the sea, running between ranges of very steep hills; their sides
affording not the least shelter, even for a boat, and apparently deserted;
for neither seal, nor birds of any kind were seen, nor were there even
muscles on the rocks."
Mr. Kirke, in his report, says: "The three northernmost of the inlets of
the Channel's Mouth end with high land on each side, and low sandy beaches
at the head, beyond which there rises a ridge of high mountains, about two
miles from the beach. The S.E. inlets end in rivers rushing down from the
mountains, and a rocky shore: not the smallest shelter could I find, even
for the boat. Two days and nights I was forced to keep her hauled up on a
rock, just above high-water mark, in a strong gale, while the williwaws
were so violent, that we were all obliged to add our weight to that of the
boat, to prevent her from being blown off: and twice we were washed out of
our resting-places, on the beach, by the night tide rising about fifteen or
sixteen inches above that of the day."
This opening in the coast is noticed by the pilot Machado (Agueros, p.
210); but by whom the name of Channel's Mouth was given, does not appear.
It is by no means descriptive of {331} what it has been proved to be; but
as Lieutenant Skyring thought that a change in the name would not answer
any good purpose, he very properly left it unaltered.
The day after Mr. Kirke returned, very bad weather set in, and detained the
Adelaide nine days, during which nothing could be done, out of the vessel.
January 19th, Lieutenant Skyring writes, "with moderate weather, and an
easterly wind, we left the Channel's Mouth, and, standing for the Guaianeco
Islands, passed those of Ayautau (between which and the mainland are
several rocky reefs, though the passage seems to be sufficiently clear for
any vessel); and skirting Tarn Bay, we distinguished the Mesier Channel,
and could see many leagues down it. The entrance of the Mesier Channel is
very remarkable, from having two high and singular peaks on the islands at
its mouth: the northernmost very much resembling (although higher than)
Nelson's monument, near the Strait; and the other, more to the southward,
and much higher, resembling a church with a cupola, instead of a spire.
Both are easily made out from the westward, at a distance of twenty or
thirty miles.
"We reached the Guaianeco Islands in the afternoon. The two largest are
divided by a narrow passage, on the west side of which we anchored, in ten
fathoms, in a spacious and secure haven, which proved to be Speedwell Bay
of Bulkeley and Cummings; the boats were employed next day, and, while the
examination of the coast was pursued, I sought to ascertain the exact spot
of the wreck of the Wager, but never could discover it: not a fragment of
that ill-fated vessel was seen in any of our excursions. A few pieces of
the boat lost by the Beagle last year were picked up; but nothing more that
could tend to denote the misfortunes which have occurred near these
islands.
"From the description of the Wager's wreck, in Bulkeley and Cummings, there
seems to be little doubt of the place being at the N.W. end of the eastern
Guaianeco Island, near my Rundle's Passage, which is the place so often
mentioned in their account as the 'Lagoon.'
{332}
"Being well supplied with powder and small shot, the people provided
themselves plentifully, during our stay at Speedwell Bay, with a variety of
wild-fowl, namely, geese, ducks, redbeaks, shags, and the ibis; curlew,
snipe, plover, and moorhens, were also met with, and fish were observed in
shoals near the vessel, but, as we had no seine, they escaped. With hooks
and lines our fishermen had no luck; the baits were no sooner at the
bottom, than they were taken away, and for a day or two the cause of their
loss was unknown; but being accidentally ascertained, small trap-nets were
made, and great numbers of crabs were taken, about a pound each in weight.
"In almost every bay we noticed the potato, growing among wild celery,
close above high-water mark: but in so unfavourable a situation, choked by
other vegetables, its produce was very small.
"The trees are not of large growth in these islands, neither is the land
thickly wooded; but above the beach, and almost round the coast, there is a
breast-work of jungle and underwood, from fifty to one hundred yards broad,
and nearly impenetrable; beyond which is a great extent of clear, but low
and swampy ground.
"On the 25th, we left this port, and ran to the S.E., through what I have
named Rundle's Passage. This small channel, where the islands approach each
other, is about a quarter of a mile wide, perfectly clear in the whole
extent, and also at its southern entrance; but at the northern there are
many detached rocks, which are obstacles to entering Speedwell Bay, except
in daylight. Rounding the islets, at the S.E. extreme of Byron Islands, we
anchored in Muscle Bay, which lies on the northern side: by no means a
secure place,--but the only one that could be found, by the boats, after
many hours' search. I selected this situation in order that the entrance to
the Fallos Channel, and the whole outline of these islands, might be laid
down, and properly connected with the land of Port Barbara; which was
thoroughly executed by Mr. Kirke and Mr. Millar, although delayed in the
completion of their {333} work until the 1st of February.(c) On that day we
sailed, and entered the Mesier Channel, anchoring in a small open bay, the
only stopping-place we could perceive; which, from the loss we sustained
shortly after our arrival, was called Fatal Bay. It is insecure, and the
anchorage ground confined: the only convenience was, that wood and
fresh-water were near. During our stay we had much rain, which retarded us.
Mr. Kirke went away in a boat, whenever the weather permitted, and, on the
8th, we sailed for an anchorage, about ten miles to the southward, where he
had previously been; but a sad event happened before our departure.
"On the afternoon of the 3d, we had the misfortune to lose Mr. Alexander
Millar, who died in consequence of a severe attack of inflammation of the
bowels, which carried him off, after an illness of only three days.
"On Thursday afternoon he was buried, close to the shore, near the
anchorage, and just within the edge of the wood.
"That our progress had been so slow during the last month, was a great
disappointment; but we had had many causes of detention. All the early part
of January the weather was stormy: eighteen days we were anchored within
the Channel's Mouth; yet during two only could our boats leave the vessel.
"Among the Guaianeco islands we had moderate weather, but also much wet:
still the chief cause of our delay, I fear, was my own illness. From the
beginning of January, I had been confined to my bed, with a tedious and
obstinate disease; and from that time most of the angles were taken, and
all the observations were made, by Mr. Kirke, who was ever exceedingly
willing and indefatigable. After the loss of Mr. Millar, not only almost
the whole duty of surveying fell upon him, but much of the duty of the
vessel.
"At noon this day (8th), we moored in Island Harbour, a small but excellent
landlocked anchorage, with good holding {334} ground, and abundance of wood
and water. The two following days, Mr. Kirke was away examining the coast;
the third we were confined by bad weather; and, indeed, during our whole
continuance at this place, we had very much rain.
"We sailed early on the 12th from Island Harbour, and by night reached
Waterfall Bay, an anchorage about fifteen miles to the southward: the wind
all day was light, and the tide, the greater part of the time, against us;
so that, with every exertion, we scarcely gained anchoring ground before it
was quite dark: the strength of the tide was upwards of a mile an hour, at
neap-tides: the ebb and flood were of equal duration, the former running to
the S.b.E., the latter N.b.W. Thirty miles within the Mesier Channel it is
as wide as at the entrance, and for several miles to the southward appears
clear: so that no one is liable thus far to mistake its course.
"The land on the west side appears to be a number of large islands, with
here and there wide passages leading to the S.W., rendering it probable
that there are many (although not direct) communications between the Mesier
and the Fallos Channels. Our anchorages were chiefly on the eastern shore,
that the openings on that side might be more readily examined; but all
which appeared to run far inland were found to be merely narrow inlets, or
sounds ending abruptly. On each side the land is hilly, but not high; and
this distinguishes the Mesier Channel from many others, whose shores for
miles are formed by ranges of steep-sided mountains. Here, in many places,
there is much low land, which is generally thickly wooded, yet with no
greater variety of trees than is to met with in the Strait of Magalhaens.
The beech, birch, pine, or cypress, Winter's-bark, and a kind of red-wood,
form the forests; but none were observed that could be at all serviceable
for the larger spars of a vessel.
"(16th). Left Waterfall Bay, and with a N.W. breeze passed Middle Island,
entered Lion Bay, and moored in White Kelp Cove. The coast survey was soon
finished, but we were confined at our anchors here four days; not by bad,
but by extraordinarily fine weather. During such intervals, so very rare
{335} in these regions, the wind, if there is any, is almost always
southerly, and light.
"At every anchorage we had found Indian wigwams, but as yet had not met
with any natives. Here we took a great number of fish; and, among them, one
like the ling, found on the east coast of Patagonia, off Cape Fairweather,
but of smaller size, for the largest did not weigh more than two pounds.
Very few water-fowl were seen; steamers and shags were the only ones shot;
but in the woods we noticed king-fishers, woodpeckers, barking-birds,
parroquets, and humming-birds.
"(21st.) With a light northerly wind we left this cove, and about ten miles
to the southward the appearance of the channel changed greatly. Instead of
sailing through unconnected land, of moderate height, we were confined
between two mountainous ridges.[177] At noon we were obliged to anchor in
Halt Bay, no opening appearing to the right or left, and being apparently
embayed. On the west side, the high land was skirted by several low
islands, among which our only way of proceeding seemed to lie. This day and
the next Mr. Kirke was away, seeking a passage; and having found one, and
noticed the tides, we sailed through on the 23d, and gave it the name of
the English Narrow. It is long and intricate, chiefly formed by islands;
and in three places, where the shores approach each other, the distance
across is less than four hundred yards, yet with a fair wind and slack
tide, there is no hazard in passing. In the afternoon, we moored in ten or
twelve fathoms in Level Bay, a spacious anchorage near the southern
entrance of the Narrow; the bottom mud and sand, and the depth of water
equal throughout. Mr. Kirke, who was among the islands opposite this bay,
saw numerous shoals {336} of fish in many of the bights; with a seine,
therefore, an abundant supply might be obtained.
"The woodland eastward of our anchorage had very recently been on fire, and
the conflagration must have been extensive, and very destructive; for
throughout a space of ten or twelve miles along shore, all the trees had
been consumed, the dead trunks of the larger ones alone remaining. We left
Level Bay on the morning of the 25th, and passed a canoe full of Indians;
but they pulled to the shore, and ran into the woods; therefore, since they
avoided us, and we had a fair wind, I did not seek their acquaintance. We
had noticed traces of them in the neighbourhood of the Narrow, on each side
of which many wigwams, that had been recently occupied, were seen.
"For the next ten or twelve miles we went through a fine reach, whose
shores were low, and whose channel was interspersed with several islands,
affording probably excellent anchorages; but to the southward the hills
became more steep, and, except in the ravines, were destitute of
vegetation. At four or five leagues to the E.S.E., beyond the English
Narrow, an opening, apparently a channel, presented itself, and the reach
in which we were sailing seemed to end. Doubtful which course to follow, we
anchored the vessel in Rocky Bight, and despatched the boats to examine
both passages. That to the E.S.E. was found to run direct nearly ten miles,
and to communicate with a fine clear channel, trending to the S.S.W., which
proved afterwards to be the Wide Channel (Brazo Ancho) of Sarmiento. At the
junction, a considerable arm extended to the N.N.E., apparently a
continuation of the Wide Channel.
"On Mr. Kirke's return from examining the passage in which we were sailing,
I learnt that the same width continued about five miles southward of our
present anchorage, and that there the shores approached closely, forming
the intricate passage called Rowlett Narrow; which, after a S.E. course of
many miles, also joins Wide Channel. The island formed by the two channels
was named Saumarez Island, in honour of the gallant admiral.
"It rained hard and blew strongly the whole day, which {337} prevented our
moving; but on the 27th we shifted our anchorage to Fury Cove, in Wide
Channel.
"Mr. Kirke, on the 28th, examined an opening to the northward, called Sir
George Eyre Sound, which terminates in a wide fresh-water river, running
through low land from a large glacier. The low grounds extend two or three
miles from it, and then the land becomes high. Behind the glacier there is
a ridge of high mountains, covered with snow, which we had seen twice
before; first, from near White Kelp Cove, and again from Halt Bay. In the
sound, we saw three whales, and being the first we had observed, since
leaving the Gulf of Penas, they inclined us to think we were near the Gulf
of Trinidad. A great number of fur seal, besides two of their rookeries, or
breeding-places, were also seen. Several icebergs were floating out of the
sound, some of which were dark-coloured; and upon one I found a quantity of
rock that had come down with it from the mountains. There was serpentine
and granite, specimens of which were collected, and given to Captain King.
One of the bergs, which was large, was aground. It was nearly seven fathoms
above the water, and bottom could not be found by sounding round it with
twenty-one fathoms of line.
"Fury Cove is diminutive; there is not more than sufficient space for two
small vessels; but the ground is good, and in every other respect it is a
secure haven. We sailed on the 3d of March with the expectation of soon
recognizing some known points in the Gulf of Trinidad; but as the wind
failed, we were obliged to anchor for the night in Sandy Bay, in eight
fathoms.
"As we proceeded to the southward, the appearance of the country gradually
changed: the mountains seemed more barren, the trees and shrubs more
stunted, the land rose more suddenly, and the shores of the channel became
bolder, and presented an uniform rocky line of coast.
"(4th.) We again steered southward, and at noon an opening appearing on the
east side, which ran several miles inland, I sought an adjacent anchorage,
in order that it might be explored. Our boats were examining the shore all
day, and {338} sounding in the coves, but no fit spot was found; therefore
we were forced to stop in an ill-sheltered nook, termed Small Craft Bight,
which just served us (having fair weather) as a resting-place until morning
(5th), when we set out again to find a better anchorage; for I still
desired to ascertain whether the opening to the eastward was a sound or a
channel. In our course to the southward we traced both shores in search of
a stopping-place; but there was neither bight nor cove where it was
possible to anchor, until we arrived at Open Bay, which lies near the
entrance of Wide Channel. Even this was such a very insecure place, that
although I remained the next day, to examine the neighbouring coast, it was
far too exposed an anchorage for the vessel to continue in while the boats
were away at a distance.
"Disappointed by not finding a place for the schooner near the opening I
wished to explore, I was yet averse to leaving it unexamined, having traced
every inlet to its extremity for upwards of two hundred miles along the
continent. I wished to continue so sure a mode of proceeding; and although
I felt certain that this opening terminated like the rest, and Mr. Kirke
held the same opinion, I would gladly have prevented any doubt by following
its course in the boats, could we have gained a safe anchorage for the
vessel. The nearest harbour that could be found was thirty miles from the
opening, and it would have detained us too long to send the boats such a
distance; so considering that we had yet a great extent of coast to
examine; that my state of health did not permit me to undertake any very
exposed or arduous service; and that Mr. Kirke was the only person to whom
such duty could be entrusted, I was induced to relinquish our former
practice of exploring every opening to its end.
"We left Open Bay on the 7th, and soon entered Concepcion Strait, keeping
along the east shore, and sending a boat, at every opening, to seek a
situation for the vessel. In the afternoon, a tolerably sheltered bay was
found, at the south end of the North Canning Island, open only from S.E. to
S.W.; but those winds being frequent and violent, and the {339} bay exposed
to a long reach of sea from that quarter, it cannot be accounted a safe
harbour; yet it was very far preferable to many places in which we had been
obliged to anchor.
"This bay (Portland Bay) is on the north side of an opening called by
Sarmiento 'Canal de Tres Cerros,' and from the broken state of the interior
high land, one is led to imagine a channel might be found there. His
conclusion, I have no doubt, was drawn from this appearance, since the view
down the opening is very limited, and, at the distance of three or four
miles within the entrance, is interrupted by several small islands. Mr.
Kirke passed between those islets, and followed an opening to the S.E., for
upwards of eight leagues. On his return, he reported that he had found a
fine channel, of which the principal entrance was the opening of
Sarmiento's 'Canal San Andres.'
"On the 12th, in full anticipation of making some interesting discovery, we
sailed into the 'Canal San Andres,' anchoring in the afternoon in
Expectation Bay, where we remained until the 15th. During that time, Mr.
Kirke was employed examining the different openings, and tracing this
supposed channel farther. At his return, he said that he had found a
termination to every opening, even to that in which we then were, which he
had previously thought to be a channel. Like the rest, it extended only to
the base of the snowy Cordillera, and then was suddenly closed by immense
glaciers.
"This information caused great disappointment, as all hope of passing
through the Cordillera, thus far northward, was now given up; and I was
fearful we should be delayed many more days before we could extricate
ourselves from this (as we then supposed) false channel. We were many miles
within the entrance; in that distance there were no anchorages, and the
wind being generally from the westward, I anticipated much labour before we
could effect our return; but the very next day we were so fortunate as to
have a slant of fair wind, by which we cleared this opening, and a second
time entered Concepcion Strait. Knowing, by our former survey, that there
was no anchorage along the coast to the southward of Cape San Andres before
reaching Guard Bay, I ran over to Madre {340} de Dios, and brought up in
Walker Bay. Fortunate we were, too; for before midnight the weather became
so stormy as to oblige us to strike the topmasts and yard, let go a second
anchor, and veer a long scope of cable. At few places in these channels
where we had anchored, could we have veered even half a cable. We remained
the following day, and on the 21st, the weather being moderate, ran for the
Guia Narrow, and having a favourable tide, passed through easily.
"It was my wish to have anchored among the islands to the southward of Cape
Charles, since that would have been the most convenient place for the
Adelaide, while examining the opening beyond Cape San Antonio; but hauling
round the headland into a bay formed by those islands, no soundings could
be gained; and not perceiving any bight at all likely to afford shelter, I
continued my course for Puerto Bueno, where Sarmiento thought there was
good anchorage. In the evening, with the assistance of the boats, we moored
in Schooner Cove, Puerto Bueno, and the next day, Mr. Kirke went to examine
the opening north of San Antonio.
"While we remained, a plan was made of this port, which lies five miles
S.E. from Cape Charles and three and a-half from Bonduca Island. The shore
is steep, and without any indenture. To the southward is Lear Bay, a mile
in extent, affording anchorage, but not to be chosen when such an excellent
haven as Puerto Bueno is near. The south extreme of this bay forms the
north point of Puerto Bueno, and a few hundred yards south of that point is
Rosamond Island, which is low and pointed; four hundred yards S.S.E. of
this, is a small round islet, bold to on every side; and between this islet
and a low point, a quarter of a mile to the S.E., is the widest channel to
the anchorage. Sarmiento, indeed, most appropriately named it Puerto Bueno.
It has both an inner and an outer port, the depth of water throughout is
from nine to six fathoms, and any position in either I consider safe; but
excepting that it affords better shelter, it differs in no respect from
other anchorages in these regions. Wood and water are generally found in
abundance near them all: fish may be caught; geese, ducks, shags, and {341}
steamers may be shot; and shell-fish gathered. The country, also, has the
same appearance, and is of a similar nature; for if you force a passage
through the woods, it is over fallen trees and moss; if you walk over clear
flat ground, the place is found to be a swamp; and if you ascend the hills,
it is by climbing over rocks, partially covered with spongy moss.
"Mr. Kirke returned on the 24th, having found that the opening beyond San
Antonio led to the N.E., and at ten miles from the cape communicated with
that called the Canal San Andres.
"At daylight we left Schooner Cove, and in passing down Sarmiento Channel I
tried, though unsuccessfully, to reconcile some of his remarks with our own
observations. South of San Marco and San Lucas there are two extensive
bays, which we afterwards found communicated with an opening between San
Mateo and San Vicente, separating the greater part of the eastern shore of
this channel from the main land.
"I wished to anchor near Cape San Lucas, but around that opening no place
could be distinguished likely to afford shelter, the shore in every part
being bold, steep, and rocky. A like uniformity of coast presented itself
as far as Cape San Mateo; but on the west side, along both Esperanza and
Vancouver Island, lie many bays that are well adapted for vessels. Sailing,
however, under Cape San Lucas, we stood for San Mateo, and succeeded in
anchoring in a small port, formed by Weasel Island, scarcely large enough,
but perfectly safe, when once we were secured. From this place the boats
were despatched. An opening east of our present station was to be traced,
and this part of Sarmiento Channel, with the entrance between San Mateo and
San Vicente, was to be laid down. These operations, which in moderately
fair weather would not have occupied three days, were not completed before
the 31st, from our being delayed by violent winds, and almost continual
rain. We had also had exceedingly bad weather during our stay in Puerto
Bueno, and those employed in the boats had undergone very severe fatigue,
and had suffered much from wet and cold. A short distance within the
entrance of the {342} opening, between Cape San Mateo and San Vincent, it
turns suddenly to the south and S.b.E., continues in that direction for
nearly thirty miles, washing the base of the Cordillera which rises from it
precipitously, and is closed by a low isthmus, two miles across, dividing
this inlet from Stewart Bay, and over which Mr. Kirke passed to take the
bearings of several points that he recognised in Collingwood Strait.
"In the prosecution of the survey northward of our anchorage, those
passages were discovered which separate so much of the east coast of
Sarmiento Channel from the main land; and the islands thus made known I
named after Commodore Sir Edward Owen,[178] the channel of separation being
called Blanche Passage.
"One of the boats met with a canoe containing eight Indians; this was only
the second that had yet been seen during our cruise.
"An interview, which two of the schooner's men had with these people, is so
characteristic of the habits of the natives who wander in canoes, that I
add the account, as given by one of those men: 'When we arrived at the
wigwam, there were two women and five children inside, and a dozen dogs
near it. At our entrance, the children crept close to one side of the
wigwam, behind their mothers, who made signs for us to sit down on the
opposite side, which we did. The women, seeing that we were wet, and meant
to do them no harm, sent the two eldest children out to gather sticks, and
made up a large fire; so we cut some pieces of bread from a loaf which we
had, and distributed them. They all appeared to like the bread,
particularly the youngest, which was sucking at the breast; for it eat its
own slice, besides one we gave its mother. After we had been there about
half an hour, and had given them some beads and buttons, a man came in from
behind the wigwam, where he had concealed himself when we entered, and sat
down beside us. By signs, he asked where our boat was, and how many men
there were with us. We told him the men and boat were a little way off, and
made signs that we wanted to {343} stay all night with him. We then gave
him some bread, which he smelt, and afterwards eat. He offered us some
sea-elephant blubber, about two inches and a-half thick; we took it, and
making signs it was not good, flung it on the fire. As soon as it began to
melt, he took it from the fire, put one part in his mouth, and holding the
other drew it back again, squeezing out the oil with his teeth, which were
nearly shut. He put the same piece on the fire again, and, after an
addition to it, too offensive to mention, again sucked it. Several more
pieces were served the same way, and the women and children partook of
them. They drank large draughts of water as soon as they had done eating.
As it grew dark at about eight o'clock, the man began to talk to the women
about our 'sherroo' or boat, and our men, who he thought were near. They
seemed to be alarmed, for the women shortly after left the wigwam, and did
not return. They were quite naked. The man took the youngest child in his
arms, squatted down with the rest, and making signs that he was going to
sleep, stretched himself by the fire, the children lying between him and
the side of the wigwam. Soon afterwards another man came in, who seemed to
be about twenty-two years of age, younger by ten years than the first we
saw. He had a piece of platted grass round his head, in the form of a band.
After talking some time with his companion, he talked and laughed with us,
ate some bread, and would have eaten all we had, if we had not kept it from
him. He ate about two pounds of blubber, broiling and squeezing it, as the
other had done, and drank three or four pints of water. We had only one
case knife, which he was very fond of borrowing now and then, to cut the
blubber, pretending that the muscle shells, which he broke for the purpose,
were not sharp enough. He examined all our clothes, felt our limbs and
breasts, and would have taken our clothes off, if we had let him. He wanted
a knife, and was continually feeling about us for one, as we did not let
him know that we had only one. He opened a rush basket, and took out
several trifles, such as fire-stone,[179] feathers, spear-heads, a sailor's
old mitten, part of {344} a Guernsey-frock, and other things, some of which
he offered for the knife.
"'About midnight it rained very hard, and the inside of the wigwam became
soaked with wet; so they all roused up, and made a large fire; then ate
some blubber, and drank some more water. They always carried a firebrand
with them when they went out in the dark to get water, or for any thing
else they might want. When they had well warmed themselves they lay down
again. The young man lay close to us, and, when he supposed we were asleep,
began to search the man who had the knife, but we kept watch and he could
not get it. About two hours afterwards he made up the fire, and went out,
as we thought, for firewood: but for no other purpose than to take away
bushes from the side of the wigwam, that he might have a clear passage for
what he intended to do. Returning, he took up a piece of blubber, and asked
for the knife to cut it. As soon as he had cut a slice, and put it on the
fire, he darted through the part of the wigwam, which he had weakened, like
an arrow. The other man seemed to be very much vexed, and thinking,
perhaps, that we should do some mischief in consequence of the loss of the
knife, watched an opportunity, when he thought we were asleep, to take out
all the children, and leave us quite by ourselves. About two hours after,
he returned, and pulling down dry branches, from the inside of the wigwam,
made up a large fire. We had no doubt that the younger man was at hand
watching us, and just at daybreak, as we were preparing to start, he jumped
into the wigwam with his face streaked almost all over with black, and
pretended to be quite a stranger. When we asked for the knife, he would not
know what we meant, but took up one of our shoes that lay on the ground,
and gave it to us. The band of grass was taken off his head, and his hair
was quite loose. There were neither skins, spears, nor arrows in the
wigwam, but no doubt they were in the bushes; for when we threatened to
take the canoe he jumped into the wood, resting on one knee, with his right
hand on the ground; and eyed us sharply till we were out of sight.'
{345}
"The other family seen in the Mesier Channel we did not communicate with,
and it may be remarked that in this passage, although between four and five
hundred miles in extent, we did not meet twenty human beings; a strong
evidence that these regions are very thinly inhabited, particularly when it
is considered that we made no rapid progress, and that our boats traversed,
through different channels, at least twice the distance run by the vessel."
* * * * *
{346}