TREASURE ISLAND AT LAST.
We sailed on towards the desert island under all canvas, but did not
reach it for eight hours from the time we first sighted it.
As we neared it, the features of this extraordinary place could
gradually be distinguished. The north side, that which faced us, is
the most barren and desolate portion of the island, and appears to be
utterly inaccessible. Here the mountains rise sheer from the boiling
surf--fantastically shaped of volcanic rock; cloven by frightful
ravines; lowering in perpendicular precipices; in places over-hanging
threateningly, and, where the mountains have been shaken to pieces by
the fires and earthquakes of volcanic action, huge landslips slope
steeply into the yawning ravines--landslips of black and red volcanic
_debris_, and loose rocks large as houses, ready on the slightest
disturbance to roll down, crashing, into the abysses below. On the
summit of the island there floats almost constantly, even on the
clearest day, a wreath of dense vapour, never still, but rolling and
twisting into strange shapes as the wind eddies among the crags. And
above this cloud-wreath rise mighty pinnacles of coal-black rock, like
the spires of some gigantic Gothic cathedral piercing the blue
southern sky.
The loftiest peak is about three thousand feet above the sea, but on
account of the extreme precipitousness of the island it appears much
higher.
As a consequence of the recoil of the rollers from the shore we found
that, as we got nearer in, the ocean swell under us increased in
height, and rose and fell in an uneasy confused fashion. The breakers
were dashing up the cliffs with an ominous roar, showing us that, in
all probability, landing would be out of the question for the present.
We passed North Point and opened out North-west Bay. At the farther
end of the bay we saw before us the Monument, or Ninepin, as it is
called on the charts--a stupendous pinnacle of basaltic rock 850 feet
in height, which rises from the edge of the surf, and is detached from
the main cliffs.
The scenery was indescribably savage and grand, and its effect was
heightened by the roaring of the surf on the beach and the echoes of
it in the ravines, as well as by the shrill and melancholy cries of
thousands of sea-birds so unaccustomed to the presence of man that
they came off the crags and flew round us in evident wonder as we
sailed by, often approaching so close to us that we could strike them
with our hands.
My companions had expected, from what I had told them, to find this
islet a strange, uncanny place, barren, torn by volcanic action and
generally forbidding, and now they gazed at the shore with amazement,
and confessed that my description of its scenery was anything but
exaggerated. It would be impossible to convey in words a just idea of
the mystery of Trinidad. The very colouring seems unearthly--in places
dismal black, and in others the fire-consumed crags are of strange
metallic hues, vermilion red and copper yellow. When one lands on its
shores this uncanny impression is enhanced. It bears all the
appearance of being an accursed spot, whereupon no creatures can live,
save the hideous land-crabs and foul and cruel sea-birds.
We were now coasting under the lee of the island and our progress was
but slow, for the high mountains intercepted the wind from us, and we
were often becalmed on the oily swell under the hottest sun we had yet
experienced. Occasionally a violent squall, but of short duration,
would sweep down on us from some ravine and help us along. What wind
there was between the squalls came from every point of the compass in
turns, and we were constantly taken aback.
But at last we passed the rocky islet which I named Bird Island at the
time of my former visit, and, doubling the West Point, we entered a
bay which I recognised well, for there was the cascade still falling
over the cliff, and, near it, the landing-place off which I had
anchored in the 'Falcon.' As the swell was not high here, I decided to
anchor at once; so, bringing the vessel as near in as was
prudent--about six cables from the shore--I let go in eighteen
fathoms.
The scene before us was a fine one. A very steep and rugged ravine
clove the mountain from summit to base. At the bottom of this ravine a
stream fell in a cascade over a ledge of black rock on to the beach,
about thirty feet below. One could trace the silver line of the
falling water in many other parts of the ravine, especially in one
place far up, where it fell over a gigantic black precipice.
The mountain-sides were barren, save in spots where a coarse grass
grew sparsely. At the very head of the ravine were downs beautifully
green, with a dense grove of trees the nature of which it was not easy
to distinguish from so far below; but, as I had ascended this ravine
during my last visit to Trinidad, I knew that these were tree-ferns,
which only grow on this portion of the island high up among the damp
clouds, and are in charming contrast to the desolation that prevails
around them.
Between the foot of the mountains and the surf extends a narrow beach
of rugged stones of all sizes fallen from above, and the black heads
of rocks appear here and there in the middle of the surf, so that any
attempt at landing seems a risky venture.
But I knew where the safe landing-place was, and soon recognised it
again, though it was not to be easily distinguished from the vessel. I
pointed it out to my companions. Some forty yards to the left of the
cascade an irregularly shaped rocky ledge extends from the beach some
way out into the deep water beyond the beach, and thus forms a natural
pier. I had often found it quite an easy matter to land here when to
do so anywhere else would be impossible; for, as a rule, the seas do
not break until they have rolled some way inside the end of this
point; so that, by approaching it carefully, and waiting till the boat
is on the summit of a wave and near the level of the top of the rock,
one can leap or scramble on to it with the exercise of a little
agility. There are occasions, however, when the seas wash right over
this ledge.
Looking from our anchorage we could see the coast as far as West Point
on one side of us, with the head of the Ninepin just visible above the
cape; and on the other side as far as the promontory of basaltic
columns which forms the western extremity of West Bay, and which I
named the Ness.
As soon as the sails were stowed I went below with the doctor to talk
over our immediate plans. It was now five in the evening, so it was
too late to attempt a landing, even if the conditions were favourable,
which they were not; for every now and again a sea would break over
the pier, sending showers of spray high into the air.
While we were discussing things, there suddenly came a violent
thumping on the deck above us, and from the shouts and laughter of the
men we knew that something exciting was going on; so we went up the
companion-ladder to see what the fun might be. We found that a
fair-sized shark was tumbling about the deck in very active fashion,
while Ted was dodging him, knife in hand, ready to give him his
_coup de grace_. Our sportsman had got his lines out as soon as
all had been made snug on deck, but his sport for the first hour
consisted of nothing but sharks, of which he caught several. After
this he had better luck and was able to supply the cook with fish
enough for dinner and breakfast for all hands.
The sea round Trinidad swarms with fish; but, for some reason, though
we got as many as we required, they were not to be so readily caught
now as at the time of my first visit; for then we hauled them in as
fast as we could drop our hooks in the water.
There are various species of edible fish here--among others, dolphins,
rock-cod, hind-fish, black-fish, and pig-fish. None of these
hot-water-fish are to be compared in flavour to those of Europe, and
we found that the sharks were the least insipid of the lot; stewed
shark and onions is not a dish to be despised.
According to the chart of the South Atlantic which I made use of on
this voyage, the island of Trinidad is rather more than five miles
long. Another chart which I possess gives its length as only three
miles, which I am sure is wrong; but, on the other hand, this latter
chart is the more correct in some other respects, and marks outlying
shoals which are not indicated on the other. There are, indeed, no
absolutely reliable charts of this island; for the different surveys
have been somewhat cursory, and each has repeated the faults of its
predecessors. The longitude has, I believe, never been accurately
determined, and even the latitude of the landing-place is, if I am not
much mistaken, more than a mile out on the chart.
Before going further with the narrative, however, it will be well to
enter into some explanation of the task that was before us.
The treasure was supposed to be hidden in South-west Bay, in a little
ravine just to the left of our camp.
The yacht was anchored out of sight of this spot, and at a distance of
two and a half miles from it as the crow flies. My companions were, I
imagine, somewhat surprised at this manoeuvre of mine, especially
when I told them that it was highly improbable that we should shift
our anchorage any nearer to the scene of our operations on shore.
Later on, however, they realised that there was a good reason for the
course I had taken.
My former experiences off Trinidad with the 'Falcon' had convinced me
that the anchorage off the cascade was far the safest; indeed that
here only could one remain at all for any length of time. It must be
remembered that a vessel is never really secure when anchored off a
small oceanic island like Trinidad. One should be always prepared to
slip one's anchor and be off to sea at once should it come on to blow.
It is therefore necessary to lie at some distance from the land, so as
to have plenty of room to get away on either tack. If one is too near
the shore one incurs great risk, as I frequently discovered while
coasting later on; for even though it be blowing hard outside, one is
becalmed under the cliffs or subjected to shifting flaws and
whirlwinds, so that the vessel becomes unmanageable, and is driven
straight on to the fatal rocks by the send of the swell. I need
scarcely say that to come in contact with this shore, even in the
finest weather, would involve the certain destruction of any craft in
a very few seconds.
The anchorage off the cascade possesses many advantages. The coast
here is free from any outlying dangers, and there is a depth of five
fathoms close to the beach. One cannot be embayed there, for the coast
beyond West Point trends away northward almost at right angles to the
south-west shore, so that from the anchorage it is easy to get away on
either tack, according to the direction of the wind. Here, too, the
sea is smoother than anywhere else, except on rare occasions, for the
prevailing winds are north-east to south-east, more generally
south-east.
Now, the only other possible anchorage for us would have been in
South-west Bay, in very convenient proximity to our camp; but this,
though it might do for a day or two, was absolutely unfitted for a
lengthy stay, more especially as difficulties might occur with the
vessel while I was on shore myself and only inexperienced people were
in charge of her. In this bay one is surrounded by dangers. South
Point is on one side, with the current generally setting directly on
to it and across the perilous shoals that extend a mile and a half
seaward. On the other side is the cape dividing West and South-west
Bays, off which also lie several dangerous islets and rocks. According
to the Admiralty chart South-west Bay itself is quite clean, with a
uniform depth of ten fathoms. As a matter of fact, it is full of
sunken rocks, and there is an island right in the middle of it; its
existence is ignored by all the charts. Surrounded as the bay is by
lofty mountains, the winds are very uncertain within it, so that if
one should have to weigh anchor it might be difficult to extricate the
vessel from her dangerous position even by the exercise of the
smartest seamanship. Lastly, it affords no shelter from the prevailing
wind, south-east, which often raises a nasty sea, and, what is more,
it is entirely exposed to the storm-wind of these seas, the dreaded
_pampero_, which blows right into it. Any one in charge of a vessel
brought up in this trap would be compelled to get under weigh
frequently under most difficult circumstances, and would live an
unenviable life of perpetual anxiety. This information will, I trust,
be of use to any fresh adventurers who propose to hunt for the
treasure of Trinidad.
Though I would not venture into South-west Bay with the yacht, I knew
that we should have to carry our stores and tools there by boat and
land them on the beach opposite to the treasure ravine; for to
transport them by land from the easy landing-place near the cascade
would be an almost impossible undertaking.
According to the dead pirate's statement, he and his comrades had
surveyed South-west Bay and discovered the best channel between the
rocks. He gave the directions for finding this channel to Captain
P----, and its existence had been verified by both the South Shields
explorers; but as they had brought back an alarming account of its
dangers, and boats had been lost in it, I considered that it would be
a wise precaution for me to land at the pier in the first place,
walk--or rather crawl and climb, for there is not much walking to be
done on that journey--across the island and survey South-west Bay from
the hills above it, before attempting to beach a boat there.
In the evening we held a council in the saloon over our pipes, and I
explained my plans for the following day.
I had explored the island pretty thoroughly while here before, and I
knew that it mainly consisted of inaccessible peaks and precipices,
among which there were very few passes practicable for men. In many
places the cliffs fall precipitously into the sea, affording no
foothold. I had landed in both North-west Bay and the bay beyond it,
and, though there were sandy beaches in both these, still, one could
go no further, for sheer promontories on either side and mountains
equally insurmountable at the back cut off all communication between
these coves and the rest of the island. I also knew that it would be
impossible for me to walk along the beach from the pier to South-west
Bay, for between these were the two capes that bound West Bay, both
opposing barriers of precipices to one's advance.
But while here with the 'Falcon,' after a difficult and dangerous
search which has been fully described in the narrative of that voyage,
I at last discovered a pass, and I believe it is the only one, by
which the mountains at the centre of the island can be traversed and
the windward shore attained.
First, I ascended the steep ravine down which the cascade flows.
Having arrived at the summit of the ravine I crossed the groves of
tree-ferns, and, after making several descents into ravines which
terminated in precipices and so compelled me to retrace my steps, I
succeeded in discovering a gully which led me to the beach on the
north-east side of the island. From here I found it possible to walk
along the beach to South Point, for no insurmountable capes
intervened; and from South-east Bay there was an easy pass under the
Sugarloaf Mountain by which the Treasure Bay could be reached. This
was the journey which I intended to make once again on the following
morning. This route, together with others taken in the course of our
explorations, are I believe the only accessible ways on the island.
I knew by experience that the passage over the mountains to the
windward beach was both arduous and perilous, and that to climb to
South-west Bay, survey it, and return to the pier would occupy the
best part of three days.
The doctor volunteered to accompany me, and I decided to take him with
me. It was indeed important that he should make himself acquainted
with the pass, for it had been settled that whenever I remained with
the yacht he should be in command of the party working on shore, and,
as the only reliable water-supply I knew of was at the cascade, it
might become necessary for him to lead the men across the mountains to
it should a water-famine occur at South-west Bay. Again, it was
certain that bad weather would occasionally make the landing of boats
at South-west Bay impossible for weeks at a time, so that, if there
were some urgent reason for communicating with the yacht, this could
only be done by crossing to the pier landing-place, at which I am of
opinion that one can land ten times with safety to once in South-west
Bay. It had been my intention to form a depot of stores at the pier,
but this we found to be unnecessary.
After I had made the above explanations to my companions assembled in
the saloon, our sportsman, who had been listening attentively,
remarked: 'Skipper, you have given us plenty of reason for taking
Cloete-Smith with you tomorrow and teaching him the roads; but you
have omitted the most important reason of all. Let me inform you that
you won't get us to do any work on shore on Sundays; so on every
Sunday afternoon we will put on our best clothes and the doctor will
have to take us over the pass to the pier, where we can do a sort of
church-parade, and listen to the band. I suppose there will be a bar
there, too, with Theodosius as bar-man presiding over the rum-barrel.'