Scenes on the Pacific Ocean.—Difficulty of reaching the harbor of
Panama, by sail ships.—Arrival at Panama.—The town of Panama, and
its inhabitants.—Passage across the isthmus, to Chagres.
After a stay in California of a little more than five months, I took my
departure for home by way of the ocean, on board a sail ship bound for
Panama, the 21st day of October, 1849. As there is often a difficulty in
getting out of the bay of San Francisco into the ocean, with sail ships,
on account of a strong wind that is much of the time blowing through the
straits eastward from the ocean, and the dense fog that envelops the
sea, at the entrance of the bay, we were detaind nearly two days before
we could pass the straits into the ocean.
Our passage from San Francisco to Panama, was accomplishd in 40 days, a
distance of about 4000 miles, tho’ along the coast, it would not much
exceed 3500. This passage was considerd by the master of the vessel, as
expeditious as is common upon waters of as little wind as is not
unfrequently witnessd upon the Pacific ocean.
Whilst on my passage from Oregon last spring, to California, I saw a
short distance from ship, a whale, in an attempt at running a race with
us. He kept along in a parallel course with the ship, one or two miles,
and then left us. Ship-masters say they will outrun the fleetest ship.
But we saw on our passage from San Francisco to Panama, but few of the
monsters of the deep, so often describd in history and romance, although
this coast is the place to which whalemen resort. At a distance from
ship, we saw now and then a few whales, spouting the briny waters high
into the atmosphere—and then again, a shoal of porpoises surrounding the
ship—some of which, our sailors caught with their hooks and lines.—The
flesh of the porpoise is of a reddish color, and coarse, but tolerably
pleasant to eat.
The dolphin is a small fish of only two or three feet in length—and has
the power of changing its color. The flesh is said to be poisonous in
some degree, and is therefore not good for food. These fish are shy and
hard to take, except by stratagem.
Our captain is an old whaleman, and his vessel was fitted out from
Nantucket, for that purpose. On our way south,—he one day took 4 or 5
men into a whale-boat, and started out from the vessel in pursuit of
some black fish we saw at a short distance from us. We had not watchd
him long before we saw him returning with a large black fish in tow of
his whale boat. He presently came along side, and down the halyards were
let—to haul the monster upon deck,—and in a few minutes, was seen
stretchd athwart the ship, a giant fish, weighing about 2500 pounds,—out
of which, was obtaind 4 barrels of oil.
This was a specimen of whaling on a small scale. The fish here caught,
was a species of whale, and was organizd similarly. A few inches from
the end of his snout, upon the top of it, was a valve, about 3 inches
square, out of which, the animal spouts.
After tossing and rolling about upon the wide Pacific, till I was
utterly tird of my situation, we at length arrivd at the outer confines
of Panama bay, on Monday, Nov. 26. Although this bay is more than 100
miles wide at the entrance, yet it is so situated, that most of the
year, there is a wind from the Caribbean sea, blowing across the
continent outward from the harbor of Panama, which renders an entrance
into it slow and difficult. We, however, after tacking the ship the
tedious number of 10 times, arrivd in safety at the harbor of Panama, on
the evening of Friday, Nov. 30.
Our arrival at Panama, was an epoch of satisfaction to me, as well as my
fellow passengers, after having experienced so many days of monotony
upon the ocean.
The anchorage for ships is inconveniently situated from town, being
nearly 3 miles distant.
After having arrivd at the town, and wanderd over it somewhat, I found
it to be located upon a rock, formd of successive layers of apparent
lava. But as my opportunity of examining it was scanty, I could not well
determine its character. The town wears a dilapidated appearance, from
its extreme age, and a want of attention to repairs. Many of the houses
are large,—and three stories high, with broken down roofs, and with
grass growing out of every corner, and upon the roofs. They have the
oddity of being built partly of bricks, and partly of stone, intermingld
together in the body of the walls. They have windows arrangd similar to
windows in houses of the states, but without sash or glass, being left
entirely open. No chimneys are built to any of the houses, and cooking
is done with small portable furnaces, or a fire is built upon the
ground, between 2 small rocks set up edgewise, so as to contain the
fuel. In the cooking apartments, an arrangement is made for the escape
of the smoke at the top of the room, so that it may not communicate with
their dining or sitting rooms.
The town, previous to the gold excitement of California, was in a great
measure, vacant of inhabitants, and large and commodious rooms may have
been hird for the small sum of 12½ cents per day. The streets are mostly
narrow, but they are tolerably well pavd, and are washd nearly every day
for ¾ of a year, from the all copious fountain of the heavens above. No
drays or coaches are seen to mar the beauty of the streets, and grass is
seen growing even in the middle of the streets, and along its sidewalks.
This was once a populous town, but now—like most other Spanish towns
along the western coast of America, is seen the marks of imbecility,
indifference and decay. They have a small market or two, to which all
classes indiscriminately, resort for their daily support. The town next
to the bay is walld around, upon which, a few cannon were placd for its
former defense.
The inhabitants speak the Spanish language. They are cleanly in dress,
plain in their manners, and familiar in their conversation. They are
unassuming in their style, and liberal in their hospitalities.
I am inclind to think the character of the American Spanish has hitherto
been misrepresented. During my stay in California, I was located among
that people, and I ever found them willing to part with half their last
meal to feed a hungry man. Although the Spanish ladies are almost
universally neat washers, yet their is a want of taste in their dress,
it being loosely, though not fantastically adjusted about their persons.
In their behavior, their sitting and reclining postures have an unchaste
appearance, though this may arise from want of proper training.
The width of the isthmus from Panama across to the bay of Darien, is not
much different from 50 miles—but by the way of the old Panama road to
Chagres, the distance is about 64 miles. Through this route the present
emigration passes.—From Panama, there is a portage of about 24 miles, to
Cruses, a town of about 150 houses, at the present head waters of the
Chagres river. There is also, another town of similar importance, about
5 miles below, upon the Chagres river, calld Gorgona. To this town,
also, there is a road which leads off from the Cruses road about half
way distant from Panama to Cruses.
The present Cruses road is probably of as ancient date as the town of
Panama. It has once been pavd, and a tolerably good road for pack
animals to pass, but too narrow to admit of carriages. Across the
portage, the country is uneven, though not mountainous, and much of the
way, the road is cut through hills of soft rock. At present, the
pavement is almost all broken up, and the road is muddy and disagreeable
to pass, much of the year, even with pack animals. Most of the property
that now passes that road, is carrid upon the backs of native
citizens,—though horses or mules can be hird at either end of the rout
for the transportation of property.
The houses of Cruses and Gorgona, and also a few scattering houses along
the portage, are made of Bamboo, a reed which grows very tall, but small
in size. These reeds are set upon the ends, and firmly crowded together
to the size of the requird wall. At the corners of these walls, are set
posts of sufficient strength to support the roofs, which are thatchd of
the cocoa leaf. After the roofs are completed, no rains can penetrate
them. The slender appearance of these houses, seems to be a proof that
no tornados or heavy winds exist along the isthmus,—and some families
live in tenements of nothing but a roof placd upon posts in the form of
a Dutch barrack.
The remainder of the way from Cruses to Chagres, is down the Chagres
river,—a stream of considerable importance in time of high water, though
not of sufficient depth to admit of the navigation of any but small
class steamboats, in times of common stages of the river.
The country across the isthmus truly indicates a want of yankee
enterprise. No agricultural interests are resorted to for the support of
the inhabitants. All appears drear, and the country is thickly coverd
with low, leafy kinds of timber, heavily laden much of it, with vines of
various kinds, pending their branches near to the ground. Now and then,
however, along the way is seen a small opening or lawn, where a few
cattle are grazing—and these of the thriftiest kind,—indicating the
advantages which might be derivd from the improvement of the soil upon
the isthmus.
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