Set out in boats--Find Guanacoes--Murray Narrow--Birch Fungus--Tide--
Channel--Glaciers--View--Mountains--Unbroken chain--Passages--
Steam-vessels--Jemmy Button--Puma--Nest--Accident--Natives--Murray's
Journal--Cape Graham--Cape Kinnaird--Spaniard Harbour--Valentyn Bay--Cape
Good Success--Natives--Lennox Island--Strait Le Maire--Good Success Bay--
Accident--Tide Race--San Vicente--San Diego--Tides--Soundings--North-east
Coast--San Sebastian--Reflections--Port Desire--Monte Video--Santa
Catalina--Rio de Janeiro.
"4th. Mr. Stokes and I each began another trip in the boats, taking
chronometers, and the necessary instruments. He steered to the northward,
to get to the mainland; I kept outside to the south-westward, to make the
most direct course towards the communication between Nassau Bay and the
newly discovered passage or channel. I was surprised to find that the
eastern shore of Nassau Bay resembled much of the coast of Patagonia (being
a stratum of earth without rock), and differed entirely from the general
character of the coasts and islands of Tierra del Fuego. At sunset we
landed, and hauled up our boat on a shingle beach which extended several
miles, and upon walking only a few yards inland I saw the prints of large
cloven hoofs, almost the size of those of a cow. This discovery gave an
answer to the question about the guanaco skins and bones found among the
Fuegians, but made me less sanguine of finding a passage northward through
the interior of the country. Much brushwood was found near this place; and
a profusion of rich grass covered an extensive plain.
"5th. We launched the boat, and continued our course along-shore, finding
rather shoal water (three to six fathoms within about half a mile), with a
very thick bed of kelp, through which it was difficult to force the boat.
We had not advanced far, when, passing round a low point of land, we saw
{439} four fine guanacoes feeding close to the water. They did not seem to
be much alarmed; but walked away from us round a projecting part of the
shore, which prevented our getting a shot at them. They appeared to be much
larger than those I had seen near Port Desire, on the Patagonian coast,
their bodies being far heavier, and their tails longer and more bushy.
These differences might be the natural result of a different climate, as
cool weather, with plenty of food and water, would probably increase their
size. I would not delay, on their account, hoping to fall in with others,
but pushed on along the shore. These animals were near what is called in
the chart 'Windhond Bay.' In the afternoon, we were again among rocky
mountains and deep-water shores, and being so fortunate as to get a fresh
breeze from the S.E., made much progress before night. We saw several
canoes, full of natives; but did not turn aside to speak to them, as time
was too precious.
"6th. A very cold and blowing morning, the wind being against us, yet we
made better progress than I had hoped for, as our boat proved to be so
excellent; and whether sailing or pulling, was all we could wish for. This
night we bivouacked close to the Murray Narrow, but took care not to land
till after dark, and then carefully concealed the fire, so that our rest
might not be disturbed by visits from the Fuegians. A sharp look-out was,
of course, kept by the watch; and by my two dogs, who were very useful in
that way.
"7th. Soon after we set out, many canoes were seen in chase of us; but
though they paddled fast in smooth water, our boat moved too quickly for
them to succeed in their endeavours to barter with us, or to gratify their
curiosity. The Murray Narrow is the only passage into the long channel
which runs so nearly east and west. A strong tide sets through it, the
flood coming from the channel. On each side is rather low land, rising
quickly into hills, behind which are mountains: those on the west side
being high, and covered with snow. When we stopped to cook and eat our
dinner, canoes came from all sides, bringing plenty of fish for barter.
None of the natives had any arms; they seemed to be smaller in size, and
less disposed {440} to be mischievous, than the western race: their
language sounded similar to that of the natives whom we saw in Orange Bay.
We found a very large wigwam, built in a substantial manner, and a much
better place to live in than many of the huts which are called houses in
Chiloe. I think twenty men might have stood upright in it, in a circle;
but, probably, of these Fuegians, it would house thirty or forty in the
cold weather.
"While our men were making a fire and cooking, I walked into the wood, but
found it bore little resemblance to that which our eyes had lately been
accustomed to. The trees were mostly birch, but grew tall and straight. The
ground was dry and covered with withered leaves, which crackled as I
walked; whereas, in other parts where we had lately passed our time, the
splashing sound of wet, marshy soil had always attended our footsteps, when
not on rock. These Fuegians appeared to think the excrescences which grow
on the birch trees, like the gall-nuts on an oak, an estimable dainty. They
offered us several, some as large as an apple, and seemed surprised at our
refusal. Most of them had a small piece of guanaco, or seal-skin, on their
shoulders or bodies, but not enough for warmth: perhaps they did not
willingly approach strangers with their usual skin dress about them, their
first impulse, on seeing us, being to hide it. Several, whom I surprised at
their wigwams, had large skins round their bodies, which they concealed
directly they saw me. Fish and the birch fungus must be their chief food,
for shell-fish are scarce and small; but they catch an abundance of
excellent rock-fish, smelt, and what might be called a yellow mullet.
Guanaco meat may occasionally be obtained by them, but not in sufficient
quantity to be depended upon as an article of daily subsistence.
"Leaving the natives, we sailed across towards the western arm of the long
channel, and continued making our way westward, with oar and sail, until
dusk, when we landed, unperceived, as we thought, and established ourselves
for the night. Just as we had moored the boat, kindled a fire, and pitched
our tent, a canoe came into the cove; another and another followed, until
we were surrounded with natives. Knowing {441} we must either drive them
away by force, or be plagued with them all night, we at once packed up our
things, and wished them good evening. About three miles further westward,
we again landed, and fixed our tent in a cove, which gave us good shelter
through the night, without any interruption. It was high water this
afternoon at four o'clock (being the day of full moon), and the tide rose
three feet. The channel here, and opposite the Narrow, is about three miles
wide; on its north side is an unbroken line of high mountains, covered with
snow to within about a thousand feet of the water. Southward are likewise
snow-covered heights, so that the channel is formed by the valley lying
between two parallel ridges of high mountains.
"8th. This morning it froze very sharply. We started at sun-rise, with a
fine breeze from the eastward, and made a long run before it. The channel
preserved the same character, and nearly the same width; on the north, the
mountains continued without any opening; but a few miles farther, we saw
what appeared to be one. I soon found that there was one passage leading
westward, and another rather to the southward of west, which appeared to
open into the sea. The easterly breeze failing, and squalls from the N.W.
succeeding, we did not make much progress in the afternoon; yet before dark
had reached the place where the two channels commence, and stopped for the
night on a small island. Soon after dark, one of the boat's crew was
startled by two large eyes staring at him, out of a thick bush, and he ran
to his companions, saying he had seen the devil! A hearty laugh at his
expense was followed by a shot at the bush, which brought to the ground a
magnificent horned owl.
"Next day, we continued our westerly route. No natives were seen, though a
few wigwams, of the round-topped kind, were passed. The westernmost
sharp-pointed, or Yapoo wigwam, was on the main-land, close to the island
of the Devil; it was made of small trees, piled up in a circle (the
branches and roots having been broken off) with the smaller ends meeting at
the top. The boat's crew said it had been a 'Meeting-House,' and perhaps
they were not far wrong; for being so {442} large, and just on what might
be called neutral ground between the two tribes, it is not unlikely that
there may have been many a meeting there--perhaps many a battle. At the
separation, or meeting of the two channels, it was high water at a quarter
before five this morning, and the flood came from the west, about a knot an
hour; the ebb-tide set to the west at about half that strength. Much
drift-wood and large fragments of ice were carried along with it. Between
some of the mountains the ice extended so widely as to form immense
glaciers, which were faced, towards the water, by lofty cliffs. During a
beautifully fine and still night, the view from our fireside, in this
narrow channel, was most striking, though confined. Thickly-wooded and very
steep mountains shut us in on three sides, and opposite, distant only a few
miles, rose an immense barrier of snow-covered mountains, on which the moon
was shining brightly. The water between was so glassy, that their outline
might be distinctly traced in it: but a death-like stillness was sometimes
broken by masses of ice falling from the opposite glaciers, which crashed,
and reverberated around--like eruptions of a distant volcano.
"10. Before daylight this morning, we were on our oars; and by the time the
sun was high enough for observing, were many miles westward of our
resting-place. After sights, while the men were cooking, I obtained a few
bearings, and prepared to return, not intending to go further westward. I
saw water from that spot, more than twenty miles to the west (by compass);
and then my view was limited by the channel turning towards the south. In
those twenty miles, not the slightest appearance of an opening to the
northward could be seen; mountain succeeded mountain, in unbroken
succession. Three ridges, or ranges, could be traced, lying parallel to
each other; and the nearest summits of those in the third, or furthest
range, stretching from the northward and eastward of me, and continuing, as
far as eye could reach, towards the north and west, were at least five
leagues distant. Their height I supposed to be about four thousand feet:
that of those nearest to me, about two thousand: and of those in the middle
range, mentioned {443} just now, about three thousand. At a distance, the
channel appeared to trend to the southward of west, and there the sides of
the mountains seemed to be very bare, and weather-beaten, while near me
they were covered with wood. This led me to conclude that farther westward
they were open to the sea winds, and that there the channel ended. By the
observations, I found that we were[203] nearly in the longitude of
Christmas Sound, and in latitude 54deg 54' S., being therefore twenty miles
south of the end of Admiralty Sound, but considerably to the westward of
it. This position, and the bearings and estimated distances, showed me that
the other arm of this long channel opened near the spot where Mr. Murray
laid down (near the head of Christmas Sound) a 'channel, running to the
eastward, beyond eyesight;' and that the branch in which I was must lead
towards the bay or sound to the N.W. of Christmas Sound, at the base of
very high land, which Mr. Murray laid down as 'an unbroken range of
snow-covered mountains.' The time of high water in this channel exactly
corresponded with that on the adjacent sea-coast, but did not nearly agree
with that of the Strait of Magalhaens. These facts, and the appearance of
the land, removed every doubt in my mind of the existence of an unbroken
chain of mountains, reaching from the Barbara Channel to the Bell Mountain,
and I therefore decided to spend no further time in searching thereabouts
for a passage northward, but make all haste to examine the exterior shores.
"The channel here was about a mile wide, but the mountains on each side
rising so abruptly, made it appear much narrower. It might be a good
passage for a ship to sail through, from the westward, were it not for the
trouble and anxiety of getting in with the land at the right place; and
that a ship might sail on her course, in the open sea, by night as well as
by day; but here she could hardly choose to run at night, because there are
a few low islets, near mid-channel, in some parts. For a boat, in case of
shipwreck, or other urgent reason, it might be convenient: but going
through to the westward would be very difficult, because it would be {444}
necessary to ply to windward all day, and every day, making half-mile
boards in defiance of squalls strong enough to capsize a vessel. A
steam-vessel might answer in this region, as there is plenty of wood every
where. Directly the noon observations were finished, and the instruments
safely stowed, we began our return, and as a fresh breeze sprung up from
the westward, we dashed along with a favouring tide at a great rate.
"11th. Next day we landed, for dinner and rest, near the Murray Narrow, and
close to a wigwam, whose inmates ran away; but soon returned, on seeing us
seated quietly by their fire. We bought fish from them for beads, buttons,
&c., and gave a knife for a very fine dog, which they were extremely
reluctant to part with; but the knife was too great a temptation to be
resisted, though dogs seemed very scarce and proportionably valuable.
Afterwards we continued our route, but were stopped when in sight of the
Narrow by three canoes full of natives, anxious for barter. We gave them a
few beads and buttons, for some fish; and, without any previous intention,
I told one of the boys in a canoe to come into our boat, and gave the man
who was with him a large shining mother-of-pearl button. The boy got into
my boat directly, and sat down. Seeing him and his friends seem quite
contented, I pulled onwards, and, a light breeze springing up, made sail.
Thinking that this accidental occurrence might prove useful to the natives,
as well as to ourselves, I determined to take advantage of it. The canoe,
from which the boy came, paddled towards the shore; but the others still
paddled after us, holding up fish and skins to tempt us to trade with them.
The breeze freshening in our favour, and a strong tide, soon carried us
through the Narrow, and half an hour after dark we stopped in a cove, where
we had passed the second night of this excursion. 'Jemmy Button,' as the
boat's crew called him, on account of his price, seemed to be pleased at
his change, and fancied he was going to kill guanaco, or w[)a]n[)a]k[=a]ye,
as he called them--as they were to be found near that place.
"12th. We continued our course with a fresh and favouring {445} breeze from
the N.E.; passed Windhond Bay, and at sunset hauled the boat up, though a
surf on the stony beach made it a difficult task. Several guanacoes were
seen near the shore as we passed along.
"At daylight this morning (13th), we went in search of guanacoes; but,
seeing none, soon returned to the boat, and launched her. I lost my new dog
in the bushes, yet we could not stop to recover him. During our walk this
morning, I observed traces of a large land-animal, which I supposed to be a
puma; and two of the men noticed a place, like a large nest, made in the
trees by the natives, in which I have no doubt they watch for the
guanacoes, to spear them as they pass underneath. We reached the Beagle in
the evening, and found all well on board excepting one man, who, in
carrying a guanaco,[204] shot by the cutter's crew, had slipped and broken
his leg. Mr. Stokes, with whom he was, contrived to set it for him; but
very properly made the best of his way to our ship with the man, whose leg
was there found to be so well set, and bandaged up with splints, by those
in the boat, that the surgeon had nothing to alter. Mr. Stokes went away
again directly; and both he and Mr. Murray were absent at my return; but
Lieut. Kempe, with the few men left on board, had done what was required,
and gave a good account of the harbour, with respect to safety as well as
shelter from wind. Ten canoes had come, at different times, to the ship;
but the natives were extremely quiet and inoffensive, and sold our people a
large quantity of fish. By success in shooting, Lieut. Kempe had been
enabled to stop the issue of salt provisions for two days. Our Fuegians
were in high spirits, and the meeting between them and Jemmy Button was
droll enough: they laughed at him, called him Yapoo, and told us to put
more clothes on him directly.
"17th. Mr. Murray returned from his excursion to Cape Good Success, having
done all that was expected, but not without incurring considerable danger
on so exposed a coast. Had not his boat been a very fine one, his crew
good, and {446} he himself a most skilful manager, I do not think he could
have gone so far along an unprotected shore, through 'races' of tide, and
yet have returned in safety."
The following are extracts from his Journal.
"'Near Cape Graham we saw a large party of Indians, with several canoes,
one of which, paddled by two men and a woman, came alongside of our boat,
and they sold us some fine fish, for the large price of two metal buttons
and a small string of beads. Finding no place at which I could land, on
account of the rocks and heavy swell, we steered for the shore about
fifteen miles to the northward. Approaching a flat-topped bluff, covered
with grass, I saw a large guanaco, and just afterwards a whole herd
feeding, for which he seemed to be doing the duty of a sentinel. The shore
was inviting, and earthy soil seemed abundant; but too many rocks showed
their sharp points at the water's edge to allow of our landing. At last we
found a small patch of shingle between two reefs of rocks, and there we
succeeded in beaching the boat, through a heavy surf. I ascended a steep
woody height to obtain a view of the neighbourhood, and found that for some
miles the country was level, and apparently covered by thick grass. Traces
of, and paths made by, guanacoes, were very numerous in every direction.
Next day we pulled to the eastward against a tumbling sea, caused by a
weather tide, and at sunset tried to land; but were disappointed, by
finding that the shore was so fronted every where by rocks, that we could
not approach. We therefore hastened towards a long reef of outlying rocks,
which might afford some shelter, as a breakwater, during the night, but
found such overfalls near them, that we were again obliged to continue our
route alongshore in the dark. At last I heard the noise of a large
waterfall, between the breakings of high surf on the rocks, and fancied a
cove could be made out, towards which we cautiously advanced, sounding with
the lead and a long pole, and succeeded in obtaining a place of temporary
security.
"'In passing along the shore on the following day, many herds of guanacoes
were seen feeding. At night we again had {447} much embarrassment in
obtaining a place for the boat. On the 7th there was too much sea and wind
to admit of our proceeding, so I went to various points suited for
obtaining angles and bearings. One of these stations was a large rock,
looking like a tower, which stood alone on a level plain.
"'The weather being less unfavourable and the sea smoother on the 8th, we
launched our boat and sailed to the eastward. In passing round Cape
Kinnaird, great numbers of fur-seal were observed, so many indeed that they
completely covered several of the large rocks.
"'Spaniard Harbour proved to be a shallow bay, full of rocks, and dangerous
reefs lining the shore, and without shelter, although there is anchorage
for a vessel.
"'In a large cave in a rock, which forms the south head of a little cove
where our boat was secured, I found the recent traces of Indians, who had
left bones of guanacoes and birds lying about near the ashes of a large
fire. I went into the cave for a considerable distance, until it became too
dark to find my way farther, but did not reach the end. Afterwards we
sailed to the eastward again, under a treble reefed sail, and landed before
dark in a corner between projecting rocks. Numbers of guanacoes were
feeding around; but, after our shooting one of them, they made off. In
every place at which we landed, traces of Indians had been found; yet
hitherto we had seen only one party during this trip. The country near us,
on the east side of Spaniard Harbour, or rather Bay, seemed level, though
here and there were low hills, whose eastern sides were thickly covered
with wood: some of the trees (beech) growing large and straight enough to
make topmasts or lower yards for a small ship; though probably their
qualities would be unsuitable.
"'May 10th. During a heavy gale, I ascended the highest hill, near the sea,
and noticed many rocks, on which the sea was breaking, that I had not seen
before. On the 11th we passed through a very dangerous 'tide-race' off Bell
Cape. There was little or no wind, but it was scarcely possible to use our
oars, so much was the water agitated: it was heaving {448} and breaking in
all directions, like water boiling in an immense caldron. When through, and
again in safety, I was astonished at our fortunate escape. Looking back
upon it, only a mass of breakers could be seen, which passed rapidly to the
westward, and therefore led me to suppose that the 'race' was caused by a
meeting of tides; not by a strong tide passing over a rocky ledge.
"'The land near Bell Cape is steep, high, and so rocky, that we could not
find any place at which to land. We went into all the small coves, but they
were so guarded by rocks as to be impracticable. Sailing eastward, I at
last found a small cove, near Valentyn Bay, in which we hauled the boat
ashore. A small stream ran into it, near which were many wigwams, but no
natives could be seen.
"'12th. We crossed Valentyn Bay, and landed near Cape Good Success. I
walked to the summit, and thence obtained a good view of Staten Island, on
the east; and all the coast westward, as far as New Island. In the
north-east corner of Valentyn Bay, we found some Indians, living in one
large wigwam, without any canoes. There were eight men, each of whom had a
bow and a few arrows in his hand, and all, except one, were clothed in
guanaco-skins hanging down to their heels, the woolly side being outwards.
We obtained several bows from them, by barter, but they were reluctant to
part with many arrows. One of the number wore a large seal-skin, that I
purchased with a knife, which, to my surprise, he distinctly called
'cuchillo.' They had some fine dogs, one being much like a young lion; but
nothing we could offer seemed, in their eyes, to be considered an
equivalent for his value. Afterwards we examined Valentyn Bay, and found it
unfit for vessels, being exposed to a heavy swell, and affording but bad
anchorage.
"'On the 13th and 14th, a heavy gale confined us to our cove, into which
such numbers of wild-fowl came, for shelter I suppose, that we shot as many
as we wanted.
"'On the 15th, 16th, and 17th, we were returning to the Beagle, not without
meeting difficulties and risks similar to {449} those already mentioned,
but which it would be as tedious as unnecessary to relate.'"
"Soon after the Master came alongside, Mr. Stokes also returned, having
been a long way into the channel first discovered by Mr. Murray, and having
examined all the shores about its eastern communication with the sea. He
met many groups of Indians, but managed so as not to have any collision or
trouble with them.
"18th. Digging in various places on Lennox Island, showed me that the soil
is unlike that where the guanacoes were seen on Navarin island, which is
fit for cultivation; this being very moist, and too full of tussac and
other roots, to be serviceable in any agricultural point of view.
"19th. Natives had come alongside at various times, during the last few
days, to sell fish for old buttons and other trifles. It was amusing to
witness York and Boat taking in these people, by their bargains. The same
men who, two months back, would themselves have sold a number of fish for a
bit of glass, were seen going about the decks collecting broken
crockery-ware, or any trash, to exchange for the fish brought alongside by
these 'Yapoos,' as they called them; not one word of whose language did
they appear to comprehend. Lieut. Kempe returned from an unsuccessful
excursion to Navarin island in search of guanacoes. He saw many, but could
not get within shot. The footmarks of a puma were noticed by him in several
places.
"23d. After obtaining a few sights of the sun, for the chronometer rates,
we sailed from Lennox harbour, a very secure place for small vessels; but,
as it is rather shallow, ships drawing more than fourteen feet of water
should anchor outside the entrance, where they would be safe, and in smooth
water, excepting when a south-east gale blows, with which wind they would
not, in all probability, wish to remain at anchor. The soundings are
regular in the offing, and there is anchoring ground every where in the
vicinity. Wood and water may be obtained, in any quantity: wild fowl and
fish are also to be had, but not in abundance. The easiest way {450} of
getting fish is to give bits of broken glass or buttons to the natives, who
catch them in the kelp, by a baited line, without a hook, enticing the fish
to the top of the water and then seizing them with the hand, or, if the
fish has swallowed the bait, jerking it out of the water before it can
disengage itself; as I mentioned before.
"At daylight (24th), being off Cape Good Success, we bore up, and ran
towards the Strait of Le Maire, with a fresh gale at south, and thick snow
squalls. The strait appeared clear of all obstacles, no rocks, nor even
kelp being visible. The shore from Cape Success to the north head of
Success Bay is high and bold, with water for a ship as near to it as she
could desire, or ought to go. We hauled our wind during a severe snow
squall, lest we should run beyond the harbour, and afterwards bearing up,
ran into Good Success Bay, and anchored under the lee of its south head as
a temporary berth. As soon as the ship was secure, I went to look for the
best anchorage; and when it moderated, we weighed and shifted to a position
where I supposed the ship secure when moored in smooth water, with sixty
fathoms on our seaward anchor, and fifty on the other, the anchors lying
respectively in eight and seven fathoms, over a clear, sandy bottom. The
gale continued during the day, and towards night increased, drawing more to
the eastward, and sending a swell into the bay. The wind was very cold, and
the snow and hail froze fast, as they lodged upon any exposed part of the
ship. Between eight and nine it blew heavily; afterwards it became much
more moderate; and at midnight there was only a fresh wind from E.S.E. A
long swell then began to set into the bay from the same quarter; but the
ship rode so easily, and the night seemed to be improving so fast, with the
glass rising steadily, that I went to bed without an anxious thought
respecting her safety: however, I was hardly asleep when I was told that
the small bower, our seaward cable, had parted. I ran instantly upon deck,
when finding the night fine, and no increase of swell, I thought at first
it was a mistake; but was quickly set right by the ship turning her
broadside to the swell, and dropping {451} down upon her lee anchor. The
critical nature of our situation at once struck me: it was evident, that
the frost had rendered our chains, so often tried, a doubtful security
against the jerk of rollers which occasionally set into the bay--one or
two, perhaps, in half an hour--though the swell was at other times
trifling. We veered a whole cable on the in-shore anchor (a small one, got
at San Carlos), cleared away and let go the sheet-anchor, shackled the
remainder of the small bower chain to the best bower, and rode with
two-thirds of a cable on the sheet, and a cable and a half on the bower,
close to the beach, though in six fathoms water, keeping the cables
constantly streaming wet at the hawse-holes, with sea-water, to prevent
their freezing: the temperature of the water being 44deg, though the snow
and hail lay frozen on the weather-side of the masts. The link that broke,
of the chain, was in the hawse exposed to a current of cold air through the
hawse-hole. It certainly appeared defective, when examined next day; but as
it had withstood many a heavy strain, I attribute its parting to the action
of the frost, and would caution seamen to be on their guard when using
chain cables in similar weather. The wind moderated, and the swell
decreased towards morning; so we became again at ease with respect to the
safety of the ship, after a few hours of anxious suspense, for we had no
hemp cables, and were close to the surf of the shore.
"25th. The wind drawing southward brought the vessel's broadside to the
swell, and prevented our getting the boats out for some time, as she rolled
heavily, and I would not risk their being injured without absolute
necessity. In the evening we crept for the end of the chain, weighed, and
bent a stout hawser to it; and next day hove up the sheet anchor, and
moored afresh, at a greater distance from the land.
"27th and 28th. Blowing a furious gale of wind.
"May 29th. The first tolerable day in this place was employed by the
officers in taking bearings and soundings in the bay; and by the ship's
company in wooding and watering. Some wigwams and the traces of guanacoes'
hoofs were seen, but the land is high, and being thickly wooded shut us out
{452} from the best guanaco country. I was not sure which was the height
Mr. Banks ascended; but the broad road mentioned by Cook is still a good
mark for the bay, if the inbend of the land does not show it sufficiently.
The weather here was colder than we had yet found it, the wind being so
much in the south quarter; there were very sharp frosts at night, and snow
lay deep, even close to the sea water-mark.
"May 30th. I was in hopes of finding a harbour between Cape San Diego and
Cape San Vicente, or a little farther along the coast, where we might be
able to fix the position of Cape San Diego and the adjacent land; for I did
not like sending a boat along this coast, the tides being so very strong,
and the shore so rocky, without any inlets, where she could be secured at
night. (During Mr. Murray's last trip, he was extremely fortunate in having
a fine interval; as the coast he passed would have been impracticable for a
boat in blowing weather. Had these last strong southerly gales begun before
he came back, his situation would have been extremely critical.) We
therefore stood into the strait, the wind being variable and light with us,
though blowing strongly over the tops of the hills, and striking the water
nearest them in strong squalls. At half a mile from the land there was
little wind; but from that distance to the shore was torn up by williwaws.
This strange appearance must have been caused by the cold air rushing from
the snow-covered hills and displacing the warmer air near the surface of
the water.
"With the ebb tide and what flaws of wind we could catch we stood to the
southward, to get some angles and bearings, and see more of the shore
between Cape Good Success and the bay. In the afternoon we had a steady
wind from N.N.W.; and having done what was necessary, to the southward,
returned, and anchored after dark near the middle of the bay.
"May 31st. At daylight this morning, we weighed and made sail with a fresh
northerly breeze. I trusted to the weather improving, as the glasses were
rising; but, indeed, our time was becoming too short to allow of a choice
of days. We worked to the northward with the flood-tide, taking the
required {453} angles and bearings, and at noon were close to Cape San
Diego, where the flood-tide opposed the north wind very strongly, and in
addition to a heavy swell from the northward, made such an irregular high
sea, as nearly caused the loss of our new boat, and would have damaged many
a vessel. The weather became worse; and as the swell continued high from
the northward, I was obliged to stand to sea, and carry a press of sail to
keep off the land, which by that time was too much obscured by haze and
clouds to admit of our running back.
"June 1st. Bad weather, with rain nearly all day. At about twelve miles to
the northward of Cape San Vicente, by estimation, we stood off and on until
in the latter part of the day we got a breeze from south, to which sail was
made to close the land about Cape San Vicente.
"At noon, on the 2d, we were well in-shore, and stood along the land,
looking for a harbour. Seeing a promising place, we anchored off it, in
twenty-two fathoms water; and, as the night proved to be fine, remained
quiet in smooth water, with the wind off the land, and a regular tide
setting past the ship.
"At daylight next morning, I went to look at the opening, which, from the
masthead, seemed like a spacious harbour; but I found it to be so shallow
an inlet, that at its entrance, just within the heads, there was no more
than one fathom of water. Nevertheless this cove must be the place which
the Spaniards dignified with the name of Port San Policarpo.
"We weighed and sailed along-shore, but the wind being scant, and the tide
against us, it was late before we could get into San Vicente Bay, where we
anchored in a line between that cape and Cape San Diego, but nearest to the
former. In a cove at the head of this bay, Mr. Banks landed when Cook was
here. During the night we were tossed about by a very heavy swell, opposing
a strong tide; the wind being moderate, not enough to steady the vessel.
"Finding this morning (June 4th), that the swell was too high to allow a
boat to be lowered in safety, I gave up my intention of examining the cove,
and hastened back to the Bay {454} of Good Success, to complete wood and
water, and obtain rates for the chronometers, previously to leaving the
coast. Wind and tide favoured us, and at noon we were moored in Good
Success Bay. Soon afterwards I left the Beagle, in my boat, with a week's
provisions, intending to try to land near Cape San Diego, and thence walk
to the cape with the instruments; but I found a cross swell in the strait,
and a rocky shore without a place in which the boat could land: though I
risked knocking her to pieces by trying to land in the only corner where
there seemed to be any chance. After this escape I tried farther on,
without success; by which time it became dark, and if I had not returned
immediately, while the ebb-tide made, the flood would have begun and
obliged me to lie at a grapnel, during a frosty night, in a strong
tide-way, with the boat's crew wet through: I turned back, therefore, and
pulled towards Success Bay, assisted by the tide, but the cockling sea it
made half filled the boat more than once, and we were thankful when again
safely on board the Beagle.
"Having failed in this scheme for settling the latitude of Cape San Diego,
I thought of effecting it by bringing the Beagle to an anchor in the
strait, two or three miles to the eastward of Good Success Bay, and thence
connecting the Cape to known points by triangulation; the heads of this bay
and Cape Good Success, quite correctly placed, serving as the foundation.
"June 5th. I obtained some sights of the sun this morning and observations
at noon, besides bearings and angles to verify former ones. All hands were
busy wooding and watering, preparatory to returning to Monte Video. A large
albatross was shot by my coxswain, which measured nearly fourteen feet
across the wings.
"6th. The snow which covered the ground when we were first here was quite
gone, and the weather was comparatively mild. The frost at night was not
more than in a common winter's night in England, the thermometer ranging
from 27deg to 32deg. The tide was carefully noticed this day, being full
{455} moon. It was high water at a quarter past four, and the tide rose
seven feet.
"7th. We unmoored, weighed, stood to the eastward and anchored with the
stream anchor, and a large hawser, in fifty fathoms water, about three
miles from Success Bay. After taking the required angles and bearings we
weighed at eleven, and stood towards Cape San Diego with the first of the
flood. The tide being strong, we made rapid progress, and were soon out of
the strait; but wishing to see as much of the N.E. coast as possible, in
our progress northward, we hauled to the wind and kept near the land during
the night, as the weather was fine and settled.
"Before leaving Good Success Bay and the Strait of Le Maire, I felt
satisfied that we had acquainted ourselves with the tides, which are as
regular and as little to be dreaded as in any part of the world where they
run with strength. They will materially assist any vessel in her passage
through the strait; which is very wide, perfectly free from obstacles of
any kind, and has Good Success Bay close at hand, in case wind or tide
should fail. When the tide opposes the wind and swell, there is always a
heavy, and, for small vessels, dangerous 'race' off Cape San Diego, where
the water is more shoal than elsewhere (k), we found it so at a neap
flood-tide, but let it be remembered that on another day, at the top of the
springs, being the day after full moon, we passed the same spot, at half
flood, with the water perfectly smooth, and although strong eddies were
seen in every direction, the vessel's steerage was but little affected by
them. It is high water in Success Bay soon after four in the afternoon, on
the full and change days, and low water exactly at ten in the morning. The
flood tide-stream begins to make to the northward about an hour after low
water, and the ebb, to the southward, about the same time after high water.
The tides rise from six to eight feet, perpendicularly. At Cape Pillar the
turn of tide, with high water, is at noon: but along the S.W. and S.E.
coast the time {456} gradually increases to this coast. From Cape San Diego
the flood tide sets north and west along the shore, from one knot to three
knots each hour, as far as twenty miles along shore; and the ebb in a
contrary direction, but not so strongly, except in San Vicente Bay. The
flood in the Strait of Le Maire runs about two knots in mid channel, more
or less according to the wind, and the ebb about one knot an hour. Perhaps,
at times, when a strong spring tide is retarded in its progress by a
northerly wind, there will be a dangerous overfall off Cape San Diego, like
the bores in some parts of the world.
"The soundings are tolerably regular, and may give notice of an approach to
Staten Land, or to the N.E. coast, and may guide a ship to the fairway of
the strait; but I should not place much confidence in them, near such a
rocky coast as that of Staten Land.
"Good Success Bay is an excellent anchorage for vessels of any size to stop
in for wood or water; but it would not answer if a vessel required to lie
steady for repair, as a swell frequently rolls in. It is quite safe, yet,
in the winter season, when easterly gales are common, no vessel should
anchor so near the head of the bay as she might in summer; for heavy
rollers at times (though rarely) set in. Fish we did not try to get, not
having spare time, and only a few birds were shot.
"On the 8th, a very fine day with but little wind, we were off the
flat-topped hill, called the Table of Orozco; and, from the mast-head, I
had an extensive view of the adjacent country. About Success Bay and Bell
Mount the land is high, but north of Success Bay it slopes away towards
Cape San Diego, which is a long, low, projecting point. Thence, as far as I
could see, the N.E. coast extended, low, excepting a few hills here and
there, and unbroken by inlets; the country near it being a pleasant looking
hill and dale land, well wooded and quite free from snow. I could
distinguish a snow-covered chain of mountains which must have lain near
Admiralty Sound, the country on this side of them appearing to be a
continued succession of hill and valley, with only a few of the hills
capped with snow, although this was the depth of winter. {457} Smoke was
seen at but one place, about two miles inland. In the evening we got a
breeze off shore, and stood along the coast, the moon shining brightly and
the weather being fine. I kept rather close to the land, during the night,
in order to be near the entrance of the supposed St. Sebastian Channel in
the morning.
"At midnight Cape Santa Inez was distant from us three or four miles, but
thence we saw very little of the land, till three, near Cape Penas, after
which the weather became thick, and the wind drew round to the N.E., which
made me keep more off shore until daylight (9th), when we bore up and stood
for the land. Having found Cape Santa Inez and Cape Penas correctly laid
down on the chart we used, I thought Cape St. Sebastian would not be far
wrong, and we had taken several observations during the early part of the
night to correct our reckoning. Standing towards the shore, we quickly
shoaled our water, and found a ground swell increasing. Having made what I
supposed to be Cape Sebastian, and seeing from the mast-head a large
opening to the northward of it similar to that laid down in the chart, with
low distant land yet farther northward corresponding to the shores of
'Bahia de Nombre de Jesus,' I stood on confidently, thinking how well the
chart of this coast had been laid down, and regardless of the soundings
decreasing as we went on. Seeing, however, from the mast-head, what seemed
to be a tide-ripple, two or three miles distant, I called the boatswain,
who had been much among the tide-races on this coast, to ask his opinion of
it: but before he could get up aloft to me, I saw that it was very low
land, almost level with the sea, and what I thought the ripple, was the
surf on the beach. Standing on a little farther we had but seven fathoms
water over a bottom of dark muddy sand, with bits of black slate. At this
time, the weather had cleared enough to see the land fifteen or twenty
miles on each side, but nothing like an opening appearing, on the contrary,
a plain extending to the westward, as horizontal as the sea, I hauled to
the wind and stood alongshore to the S.E., to look for an inlet, fancying
{458} I had overshot the proper place; especially as the land continued
flat, and unbroken, for many miles to the N.W., while to the S.E. it seemed
hilly and irregular.
"Having ranged along shore several miles, yet still seeing from the
mast-head a continuation of the same kind of coast-line, as far as an eye
could trace the surf on the beach, without any opening, we wore ship and
stood to the northward, satisfied that the St. Sebastian channel did not
exist within many miles of the position laid down in the chart.
"In the afternoon the weather became very thick, with rain, a fresh wind
blowing right on shore, and the glasses falling; so we carried sail to get
off the land and out of the shoal water, in which there was a heavy ground
swell. At midnight we had obtained a good offing.
"On the 10th, a fresh breeze from the N.E., a low glass, and thick weather,
with constant rain, would have prevented my nearing the land again if I had
been disposed to do so. Though reluctant to leave any part of the coast of
Tierra del Fuego unexplored, while I had so effective a vessel, and all
with me in good health, I was bound to remember our distance from the
appointed rendezvous; the state of our provisions, of which we had only
three weeks left on board; and that I was ordered to be at Rio de Janeiro
on the 20th of this month. I therefore decided to hasten to Port Desire,
for the sake of the chronometer measurements; and from thence proceed to
Monte Video and Rio de Janeiro. I had previously made up my mind to carry
the Fuegians, whom we had with us, to England; trusting that the ultimate
benefits arising from their acquaintance with our habits and language,
would make up for the temporary separation from their own country. But this
decision was not contemplated when I first took them on board; I then only
thought of detaining them while we were on their coasts; yet afterwards
finding that they were happy and in good health, I began to think of the
various advantages which might result to them and their countrymen, as well
as to us, by taking them to England, educating them there as far as might
be practicable, and then {459} bringing them back to Tierra del Fuego.
These ideas were confirmed by finding that the tribes of Fuegians, eastward
of Christmas Sound, were hostile to York Minster's tribe, and that
therefore we could not, in common humanity, land them in Nassau Bay or near
the Strait of Le Maire. Neither could I put the boy ashore again, when once
to the eastward of Nassau Bay, without risking his life; hence I had only
the alternative of beating to the westward, to land them in their own
districts, which circumstances rendered impracticable, or that of taking
them to England. In adopting the latter course I incurred a deep
responsibility, but was fully aware of what I was undertaking.
"The Fuegians were much slower in learning English than I expected from
their quickness in mimickry, but they understood clearly when we left the
coast that they would return to their country at a future time, with iron,
tools, clothes, and knowledge which they might spread among their
countrymen. They helped the crew whenever required; were extremely
tractable and good-humoured, even taking pains to walk properly, and get
over the crouching posture of their countrymen.
"When we were at anchor in Good Success Bay, they went ashore with me more
than once, and occasionally took an oar in the boat, without appearing to
harbour a thought of escape.
"During the night of the 13th, we were near the land about Sea Bear Bay;
the wind, however, drew to the northward, and with a strong current setting
to the S.E., drove us off again.
"The 14th was foggy; clouds preventing any observations, but at three in
the afternoon we made the land, a little north of Port Desire, near what is
called in the chart 'Rivers Peak.' The wind having hauled to the southward,
and the current setting northward, prevented our approaching nearer to the
port on that day.
"At daylight on the 15th, we were again off Rivers Peak, notwithstanding
our having carried a press of sail in order to make southing during the
night. We were set twenty miles to the northward during that time; but a
slant of wind and {460} the turn of tide in our favour carried us towards
the entrance of the harbour, into which we worked, the tide of ebb having
just ended; and we moored abreast of the ruins. My first care was to look
for traces of the Adventure or Adelaide, but I found none. A bottle which I
had deposited for the Adelaide, at our last visit, by Captain King's
direction, was exactly where I then left it, and the papers it contained
were untouched. While in this port I got good observations, the weather
being clear, though very cold. No guanacoes were shot although many were
seen, but numbers of sea-birds were brought on board.[205] A quince was
given to me which was found in a place where the Spanish colony had made a
garden. We remarked that the tracks of the guanacoes on shore here were not
so large, by one-half, as those we had so lately seen in Tierra del Fuego.
Having noticed the currents particularly, in order to compare them with
what I observed formerly and with the tide in the port; I can now say,
decidedly, that the flood tide comes from the southward, and that the ebb
sets to the south-east. North of Port Desire, or from Port Desire to Cape
Blanco, the flood is much the strongest, but off Penguin Island the ebb is,
I think, the strongest, setting two or three knots an hour. It is
high-water and slack-water, in Port Desire, at half-past twelve, on the
days of full and change. The tides, if not attended to, would baffle a ship
much in making this port.
"On the 21st we sailed, with a fresh breeze from the S.W.; and at nine A.M.
on the 25th when about one mile southward of the alleged position of the
Ariel rocks, and near the nominal longitude, I hauled to the wind and ran
some distance on their parallel, looking out for broken water. There was a
very irregular and heavy swell, as much as would be raised by a gale of
wind, but caused apparently by a current; and while waiting for the
meridian altitude, before bearing up, having run twenty miles on the same
parallel, a heavy swell rose on the quarter, which struck our weather
quarter boat, and turned {461} her in upon the deck, breaking both iron
davits. One of the davits of the lee-boat was also unshipped by the jerk,
and the after-part of the vessel well drenched with water. We secured both
boats again, but the one to windward was badly stove. For a moment, I
thought we had indeed found the rocks, and the huge black back of a dead
whale which just then shewed itself very near the vessel, much increased
the sensation. I imagined that we were in a meeting of tides or currents;
where old trees, dead whales, &c. are often found, and have frequently
caused reports of rocks; for the water was not more shallow than we had
found it during the day, the soundings having varied from forty to fifty
fathoms; so having obtained the meridional altitude we bore up, and steered
our course again.
"On the 26th we entered the Plata, and at one A.M. on the 27th, Lobos
Island was seen, and soon afterwards the high land about Pan de Azucar. We
continued working to the westward, and at daylight were off Whale Point,
but the wind fell light, and the current being against us, we lost during
the day what had been gained in the night. At seven P.M. the current set so
strongly out of the river that we were obliged to drop a kedge with a stout
hawser, and ride by it, though keeping all sail set and going between four
and five knots through the water. When the hawser bore a strain, the log
was hove, and the current found to be setting more than five knots. This
was off Maldonado; Lobos bearing N.N.E., distant four miles. Soon after
nine the stream slacked, we tripped the kedge and worked up the river, the
wind being still westerly, but the current having turned in our favour. The
U.S. frigate Hudson passed, steering to the eastward:--she was the first
sail we had seen since leaving San Carlos de Chiloe. At daylight next
morning (28th), we were in sight of Flores Lighthouse, which was reported
to be a vessel under sail. Soon after which another vessel was reported as
being under all studding sails; this was the Mount itself: so curiously
were objects distorted by the haze. Soon after noon we anchored off Monte
Video, and from Captain Talbot, of H.M.S. Algerine, I heard of the arrival
there, and subsequent departure of the Adventure and the Adelaide. {462}
"On the 9th of July we sailed from Monte Video,--on the 18th made the high
land over the island of Santa Catharina, and after dark anchored in the
bay. My object in calling there was to continue the chronometric chain,
between Tierra del Fuego and Rio de Janeiro, by as short intervals as
possible: and the results so obtained proved to be very satisfactory.
"While in Monte Video I tried to have the Fuegians vaccinated, but the
virus did not take any effect on them. Little Fuegia was living several
days with an English family, who were extremely kind to her; and the others
were on shore at different times with me. No one noticed them; being so
very like the Indians of the neighbourhood.
"The apparent astonishment and curiosity excited by what they saw,
extraordinary to them as the whole scene must have been, were much less
than I had anticipated; yet their conduct was interesting, and each day
they became more communicative. It was here that I first learned from them
that they made a practice of eating their enemies taken in war. The women,
they explained to me, eat the arms; and the men the legs; the trunk and
head were always thrown into the sea.
"On the 23d we sailed from Santa Catalina; and on the 2d of August anchored
in the harbour of Rio de Janeiro."
Here the extracts from Captain Fitz Roy's Journal end.
The Adventure and the Beagle sailed together from Rio de Janeiro on the 6th
of August, having left the Adelaide as a tender to the flag-ship, but
reimbarked her officers and crew; and, after a most tedious passage,
anchored in Plymouth Sound on the 14th of October. Both vessels were soon
afterwards paid off; the Beagle at Plymouth, and the Adventure at Woolwich.
[Illustration: Engraved by J. Gardner.
Published by Henry Colburn, Great Marlborough Street, 1839.]
* * * * *
{463}