Boat trip up the bay and the Sacramento to New Helvetia
An appeal to the alcalde
Kanackas
Straits of San Pueblo and Pedro
Straits of Carquinez
Town of Francisca
Feather-beds furnished by nature
Mouth of the Sacramento
Islands
Delaware Tom
A man who has forgotten his mother tongue
Salmon of the Sacramento
Indian fishermen
Arrive at New Helvetia.
_October 22_.--Having determined to make a trip to Nueva Helvetia by
water, for the purpose of examining more particularly the upper portion
of the bay and the Sacramento river, in conjunction with Mr. Larkin, we
chartered a small open sail-boat for the excursion. The charter, to
avoid disputes, was regularly drawn and signed, with all conditions
specified. The price to be paid for a certain number of passengers was
thirty-two dollars, and demurrage at the rate of twenty-five cents per
hour for all delays ordered by the charter-party, on the trip upwards
to Nueva Helvetia. The boat was to be ready at the most convenient
landing at seven o'clock this morning, but when I called at the place
appointed, with our baggage, the boat was not there. In an hour or two
the skipper was found, but refused to comply with his contract. We
immediately laid our grievance before the alcalde, who, after reading
the papers and hearing the statements on both sides, ordered the
skipper to perform what he had agreed to perform, to which decision he
reluctantly assented. In order to facilitate matters, I paid the costs
of the action myself, although the successful litigant in the suit.
We left San Francisco about two o'clock P.M., and, crossing the mouth
of the bay, boarded a Mexican schooner, a prize captured by the U.S.
sloop-of-war Cyane, Captain Dupont, which had entered the bay this
morning and anchored in front of Sausolito. The prize is commanded by
Lieutenant Renshaw, a gallant officer of our navy. Our object in
boarding the schooner was to learn the latest news, but she did not
bring much. We met on board the schooner Lieutenant Hunter of the
Portsmouth, a chivalrous officer, and Lieutenant Ruducoff, commanding
the Russian brig previously mentioned, whose vessel, preparatory to
sailing, was taking in water at Sausolito. Accepting of his pressing
invitation, we visited the brig, and took a parting glass of wine with
her gallant and gentlemanly commander.
About five o'clock P.M., we proceeded on our voyage. At eight o'clock a
dense fog hung over the bay, and, the ebb-tide being adverse to our
progress, we were compelled to find a landing for our small and frail
craft. This was not an easy matter, in the almost impenetrable
darkness. As good-luck would have it, however, after we had groped
about for some time, a light was discovered by our skipper. He rowed
the boat towards it, but grounded. Hauling off, he made another attempt
with better success, reaching within hailing distance of the shore. The
light proceeded from a camp-fire of three Kanacka (Sandwich island)
runaway sailors. As soon as they ascertained who we were and what we
wanted, they stripped themselves naked, and, wading through the mud and
water to the boat, took us on their shoulders, and carried us high and
dry to the land. The boat, being thus lightened of her burden, was
rowed farther up, and landed.
The natives of the Sandwich islands (Kanackas, as they are called) are,
without doubt, the most expert watermen in the world. Their
performances in swimming and diving are so extraordinary, that they may
almost be considered amphibious in their natures and instincts. Water
appears to be as much their natural element as the land. They have
straight black hair, good features, and an amiable and intelligent
expression of countenance. Their complexion resembles that of a bright
mulatto; and, in symmetrical proportions and muscular developments,
they will advantageously compare with any race of men I have seen. The
crews of many of the whale and merchant ships on this coast are partly
composed of Kanackas, and they are justly esteemed as most valuable
sailors.
_October 23_.--The damp raw weather, auguring the near approach of the
autumnal rains, continues. A drizzling mist fell on us during the
night, and the clouds were not dissipated when we resumed our voyage
this morning. Passing through the straits of San Pablo and San Pedro,
we entered a division of the bay called the bay of San Pablo. Wind and
tide being in our favour, we crossed this sheet of water, and
afterwards entered and passed through the Straits of _Carquinez_. At
these straits the waters of the bay are compressed within the breadth
of a mile, for the distance of about two leagues. On the southern side
the shore is hilly, and _canoned_ in some places. The northern shore is
gentle, the hills and table-land sloping gradually down to the water.
We landed at the bend of the Straits of _Carquinez_, and spent several
hours in examining the country and soundings on the northern side.
There is no timber here. The soil is covered with a growth of grass and
white oats. The bend of the Straits of Carquinez, on the northern side,
has been thought to be a favourable position for a commercial town. It
has some advantages and some disadvantages, which it would be tedious
for me now to detail.
[Subsequently to this my first visit here, a town of extensive
dimensions has been laid off by Gen. Valléjo and Mr. Semple, the
proprietors, under the name of "Francisca." It fronts for two or three
miles on the "_Soeson_," the upper division of the Bay of San
Francisco, and the Straits of Carquinez. A ferry has also been
established, which crosses regularly from shore to shore, conveying
travellers over the bay. I crossed, myself and horses, here in June,
1847, when on my return to the United States. Lots had then been
offered to settlers on favourable conditions, and preparations, I
understand, were making for the erection of a number of houses.]
About sunset we resumed our voyage. The Wind having lulled, we
attempted to stem the adverse tide by the use of oars, but the ebb of
the tide was stronger than the propelling force of our oars. Soon, in
spite of all our exertions, we found ourselves drifting rapidly
backwards, and, after two or three hours of hard labour in the dark, we
were at last so fortunate as to effect a landing in a cove on the
southern side of the straits, having retrograded several miles. In the
cove there is a small sandy beach, upon which the waves have drifted,
and deposited a large quantity of oat-straw, and feathers shed by the
millions of water-fowls which sport upon the bay. On this downy deposit
furnished by nature we spread our blankets, and slept soundly.
_October 24_.--We proceeded on our voyage at daylight, coasting along
the southern shore of the _Soeson_. About nine o'clock we landed on a
marshy plain, and cooked breakfast. A range of mountains bounds this
plain, the base of which is several miles from the shore of the bay.
These mountains, although of considerable elevation, exhibit signs of
fertility to their summits. On the plain, numerous herds of wild cattle
were grazing. About two o'clock, P.M., we entered the mouth of the
Sacramento. The Sacramento and San Joaquin Rivers empty into the Bay of
San Francisco at the same point, about sixty miles from the Pacific,
and by numerous mouths or _sloughs_ as they are here called. These
sloughs wind through an immense timbered swamp, and constitute a
terraqueous labyrinth of such intricacy, that unskilful and
inexperienced navigators have been lost for many days in it, and some,
I have been told, have perished, never finding their way out. A range
of low sloping hills approach the Sacramento a short distance above its
mouth, on the left-hand side as you ascend, and run parallel with the
stream several miles. The banks of the river, and several large islands
which we passed during the day, are timbered with sycamore, oak, and a
variety of smaller trees and shrubbery. Numerous grape-vines, climbing
over the trees, and loaded down with a small and very acid fruit, give
to the forest a tangled appearance. The islands of the Sacramento are
all low, and subject to overflow in the spring of the year. The soil of
the river bottom, including the islands, is covered with rank
vegetation, a certain evidence of its fertility. The water, at this
season, is perfectly limpid, and, although the tide ebbs and flows more
than a hundred miles above the mouth of the river, it is fresh and
sweet. The channel of the Sacramento is remarkably free from snags and
other obstructions to navigation. A more beautiful and placid stream of
water I never saw.
At twelve o'clock at night, the ebb-tide being so strong that we found
ourselves drifting backwards, with some difficulty we effected a
landing on one of the islands, clearing a way through the tangled brush
and vines with our hatchets and knives. Lighting a fire, we bivouacked
until daylight.
_October 25_.--Continuing our voyage, we landed, about nine o'clock,
A.M., at an Indian _rancheria_, situated on the bank of the river. An
old Indian, his wife, and two or three children, were all the present
occupants of this _rancheria_. The woman was the most miserable and
emaciated object I ever beheld. She was probably a victim of the
"sweat-house." Surrounding the _rancheria_ were two or three acres of
ground, planted with maize, beans, and melons. Purchasing a quantity of
water and musk-melons, we re-embarked and pursued our voyage. As we
ascended the stream, the banks became more elevated, the country on
both sides opening into vast savannas, dotted occasionally with parks
of evergreen oak.
The tide turning against us again about eleven or twelve o'clock, we
landed at an encampment of Walla-Walla Indians, a portion of the party
previously referred to, and reported to have visited California for
hostile purposes. Among them was a Delaware Indian, known as "Delaware
Tom," who speaks English as fluently as any Anglo-Saxon, and is a most
gallant and honourable Indian. Several of the party, a majority of whom
were women and children, were sick with chills and fever. The men were
engaged in hunting and jerking deer and elk meat. Throwing our hooks,
baited with fresh meat, into the river, we soon drew out small fish
enough for dinner.
The specimens of Walla-Wallas at this encampment are far superior to
the Indians of California in features, figure, and intelligence. Their
complexion is much lighter, and their features more regular,
expressive, and pleasing. Men and women were clothed in dressed skins.
The men were armed with rifles.
At sunset we put our little craft in motion again, and at one o'clock
at night landed near the cabin of a German emigrant named Schwartz, six
miles below the _embarcadero_ of New Helvetia. The cabin is about
twenty feet in length by twelve in breadth, constructed of a light rude
frame, shingled with _tule_. After gaining admission, we found a fire
blazing in the centre of the dwelling on the earth-floor, and suspended
over us were as many salmon, taken from the Sacramento, as could be
placed in position to imbibe the preservative qualities of the smoke.
Our host, Mr. Schwartz, is one of those eccentric human phenomena
rarely met with, who, wandering from their own nation into foreign
countries, forget their own language without acquiring any other. He
speaks a tongue (language it cannot be called) peculiar to himself, and
scarcely intelligible. It is a mixture, in about equal parts, of
German, English, French, Spanish, and _rancheria_ Indian, a compounded
polyglot or lingual _pi_--each syllable of a word sometimes being
derived from a different language. Stretching ourselves on the benches
surrounding the fire, so as to avoid the drippings from the pendent
salmon, we slept until morning.
_October 26_.--Mr. Schwartz provided us with a breakfast of fried
salmon and some fresh milk. Coffee, sugar, and bread we brought with
us, so that we enjoyed a luxurious repast.
Near the house was a shed containing some forty or fifty barrels of
pickled salmon, but the fish, from their having been badly put up, were
spoiled. Mr. Schwartz attempted to explain the particular causes of
this, but I could not understand him. The salmon are taken with seines
dragged across the channel of the river by Indians in canoes. On the
bank of the river the Indians were eating their breakfast, which
consisted of a large fresh salmon, roasted in the ashes or embers, and
a kettle of _atole_, made of acorn-meal. The salmon was four or five
feet in length, and, when taken out of the fire and cut open, presented
a most tempting appearance. The Indians were all nearly naked, and most
of them, having been wading in the water at daylight to set their
seines, were shivering with the cold whilst greedily devouring their
morning meal.
We reached the _embarcadero_ of New Helvetia about eleven o'clock,
A.M., and, finding there a wagon, we placed our baggage in it, and
walked to the fort, about two and a half miles.