At Barbadoes--Mayaguez--Crossing the Bahama Banks--The Gulf
Stream--Arrival on the coast of South Carolina.
Many old friends and acquaintances came down to see us upon our arrival
at Barbadoes, all curious to inspect the strange craft. While there our
old friend, the _Palmer_, that we left at Bahia, came in to refit,
having broken a mast "trying to beat us," so Garfield would have it. For
all that we had beaten her by four days. Who then shall say that we
anchored nights or spent much time hugging the shore? The _Condor_ was
also at Barbadoes in charge of an old friend, accompanied by a pleasant
helpmeet and companion who had shared the perils of shipwreck with her
husband the year before in a hurricane among the islands.
Meeting so many of this class of old friends of vast and varied
experiences gave contentment to our visit, and we concluded to remain
over at this port till the hurricane season should pass. Our old friend,
the _Finance_, too, came in, remaining but a few hours. However, she
hurried away with her mails, homeward bound.
The pleasant days at Barbadoes with its enchantment flew lightly by; and
on the 7th of October we sailed, giving the hurricane season the benefit
of eight days. The season is considered over on the 15th of that month.
Passing thence through the Antilles into the Caribbean Sea, a new period
of our voyage was begun. Fair breezes filled the sails of the
_Liberdade_ as we glided along over tranquil seas, scanning eagerly the
islands as they came into view, dwelling on each, in our thoughts, as
hallowed ground of the illustrious discoverers--the same now as seen by
them! The birds, too, of "rare plumage," were there, flying from island
to island, the same as seen by the discoverers; and the sea with fishes
teemed, of every gorgeous hue, lending enchantment to the picture, not
less beautiful than the splendour on the land and in the air to thrill
the voyager now, the same as then; we ourselves had only to look to see
them.
Whether it was birds with fins, or fishes with wings, or neither of
these that the old voyagers saw, they discovered yet enough to make them
wonder and rejoice.
"Mountains of sugar, and rivers of rum and flying-fish, was what I saw,
mother," said the son on his return from a voyage to these islands.
"John," said the enraptured mother, "you must be mistaken about the
fish; now don't lie to me, John. Mountains of sugar, no doubt you saw,
and even rivers of rum, my boy, but _flying-fish_ could never be."
And yet the _fish_ were there.
Among the islands of great interest which came in view, stretching along
the Caribbean Sea, was that of Santa Cruz, the island famous for its
brave, resolute women of days gone by, who, while their husbands were
away, successfully defended home and happiness against Christian
invaders, and for that reason were called fierce savages. I would fain
have brought away some of the earth of the island in memory of those
brave women. Small as our ship was, we could have afforded room in it
for a memento thus consecrated; but the trades hauling somewhat to the
northward so headed us off that we had to forgo the pleasure of landing
on its shores.
Pushing forward thence, we reached Porto Rico, the nearest land in our
course from the Island of Brave Women, standing well in with the
southeast capes. Sailing thence along the whole extent of the south
coast, in waters as smooth as any mill pond, and past island scenery
worth the perils of ten voyages to see, we landed, on the 12th of
October, at Mayaguez in the west of the island, and there shook the
kinks out of our bones by pleasant walks in tropic shades.
Time, five days from Barbadoes; distance 570 miles.
This was to be our last run among the trees in the West Indies, and we
made the most of it. "Such a port for mariners I'll never see again!"
The port officials, kind and polite, extended all becoming courtesies to
the quaint "_barco piquina_."
The American Consul, Mr. Christie, Danish Consul, Mr. Falby, and the
good French Consul, vied in making our visit a pleasant one.
Photographers at Mayaguez desiring a picture of the canoe with the crew
on deck at a time when we felt inclined to rest in the shade on shore,
put a negro on board to take the place of captain. The photographs taken
then found their way to Paris and Madrid journals where, along with some
flattering accounts, they were published, upon which it was remarked
that the captain was a fine-looking fellow, but "awfully tanned!" The
moke was rigged all ataunto for the occasion, and made a picture
indicative of great physical strength, one not to be ashamed of, but he
would have looked more like me, I must say, if they had turned him back
to.
We enjoyed long carriage drives over rich estates at Mayaguez. We saw
with pain, however, that the atmosphere of the soldier hung over all,
pervading the whole air like a pestilence.
Musketed and sabred and uniformed in their bed-ticking suits; hated by
the residents and despised by themselves, they doggedly marched,
counter-marched and wheeled, knowing that they are loathsome in the
island, and that their days in the New World are numbered. The sons of
the colonies are too civil and Christianlike to be ruled always by sword
and gun.
On the 15th of October, after three days' rest, we took in, as usual
before sailing from ports, sufficient fresh supplies to carry us to the
port steered for next, then set sail from pleasant Mayaguez, and bore
away for the old Bahama Channel, passing east of Hayti, thence along the
north coast to the west extremity of the island, from which we took
departure for the head-lands of Cuba, and followed that coast as far as
Cardinas, where we took a final departure from the islands, regretting
that we could not sail around them all.
The region on the north side of Cuba is often visited by gales of great
violence, making this the lee shore; a weather eye was therefore kept
lifting, especially in the direction of their source, which is from
north to nor'west. However, storms prevailed from other quarters, mostly
from the east, bringing heavy squalls of wind, rain and thunder every
afternoon, such as once heard will never be forgotten. Peal on peal of
nature's artillery for a few hours, accompanied by vivid lightning, was
on the cards for each day, then all would be serene again.
The nights following these severe storms were always bright and
pleasant, and the heavens would be studded with constellations of
familiar, guiding stars.
My crew had now no wish to bear up for port short of one on our own
coast, but, impatient to see the North Star appear higher in the
heavens, strung every nerve and trimmed every sail to hasten on.
Nassau, the place to which letters had been directed to us, we forbore
to visit. This departure from a programme which was made at the
beginning was the only change that we made in the "charter party"
throughout the voyage. There was no haphazard sailing on this voyage.
Daily observations for determining latitude and longitude were
invariably made unless the sun was obscured. The result of these
astronomical observations were more reliable than one might suppose,
from their being taken on a tittlish canoe. After a few days'
practising, a very fair off-hand contact could be made, when the canoe
rose on the crest of a wave, where manifestly would be found the best
result. The observer's station was simply on the top of the cabin, where
astride, like riding horseback, Victor and I took the "sights," and
indeed became expert "snap observers" before the voyage ended.
One night in the Bahama Channel, while booming along toward the Banks to
the nor'west of us before stiff trades, I was called in the first watch
by Victor, to come up quickly, for signs of the dread "norther" were in
the sky. Our trusty barometer had been low, but was now on the cheerful
side of change. This phenomenon disturbed me somewhat, till the
discovery was made, as we came nearer, that it was but the reflection of
the white banks on the sky that we saw, and no cause at all for alarm.
Soon after this phenomenon the faint glimmer of Lobos Light was descried
flickering on the horizon, two points on the weather bow. I changed the
course three points to windward, having determined to touch at the small
Cay where the lighthouse stands; one point being allowed for leeway,
which I found was not too much.
Three hours later we fetched in under the lee of the reef, or Cay, as it
is commonly called, and came to in one and a half fathoms of water in
good shelter.
We beheld then overhead in wonderful beauty what had awed us from the
distance in the early night--a chart of the illuminating banks marked
visibly on the heavens.
We furled sails and, setting a light in the rigging, turned in; for it
lacked three hours yet of daylight. And what an interesting experience
ours had been in the one short night! By the break of day my crew were
again astir, preparing to land and fill water at a good landing which we
now perceived farther around the point to leeward, where the surf was
moderate.
On the Cay is stored some hundred thousand gallons of rain water in
cisterns at the base of the iron tower which carries the light; one that
we saw from the canoe at a distance of fourteen miles.
The keeper of the light, a hardy native of Nassau, when he discovered
the new arrival at his "island," hoisted the British Board of Trade flag
on a pole in the centre of this, his little world, then he came forward
to speak us, thinking at first, he said, that we were shipwrecked
sailors, which indeed we were, but not in distress, as he had supposed
when hoisting the flag, which signified assistance for distressed
seamen. On learning our story, however, he regarded us with grave
suspicions, and refused water to Victor, who had already landed with
buckets, telling him that the captain would have to bring his papers
ashore and report. The mate's report would not be taken. Thus in a
moment was transformed the friend in need to _governor of an island_.
This amused me greatly, and I sent back word to my veritable Sancho
Panza that in my many voyages to islands my mate had attended to the
customs reports; at which his Excellency chafed considerably, giving the
gunnels of his trousers a fitful tug up now and then as he paced the
beach, waiting my compliance with the rules of the island. The governor,
I perceived, was suspicious of smugglers and wreckers, apparently
understanding their ways, if, indeed, even he were not a reformed
pirate himself.
However, to humour the punctiliousness of his Excellency, now that he
was governor of an island, I placed my papers in my hat, and, leaping
into the surf, waded ashore, where I was received as by a monarch.
The document I presented was the original _Passe Especial_, the one with
the big seal on it, written in Portuguese; had it been in Choctàw the
governor would have read it with the same facility that he did this,
which he stared at knowingly and said, "all right, take all the water
you want; it is free."
I lodged a careful report of the voyage with the governor and explained
to his Excellency the whereabouts of the "Island of Rio," as his grace
persistently called Rio de Janeiro, whence dated my papers.
Conversing on the subject of islands, which was all the world to him,
the governor viewed with suspicion the absence of a word in my
documents, referring even to an islet; this, in his mind, was a
reprehensible omission; for surely New York, to which the papers
referred, was built on an island. Upon this I offered to swear to the
truth of my clearance, "as far as known to me," after the manner of
cheap custom-house swearing with which shipmasters, in some parts of the
world, are made familiar. "Not on the island!" quickly exclaimed the
governor, "'for thou shalt not disglorify God's name,' is written in the
Bible."
I assured the governor of my appreciation of his pious sentiment of not
over-swearing,--a laudable plan that even the Chinese adopt as a policy,
and one that I would speak of on my return home, to the end that we all
emulate the laws of the island; whereupon the governor, greatly pleased,
urged me to take some more water, minding me again that it was free.
In a very few minutes I got all the water I wished for; also some aurora
shells from the governor's lady, who had arisen with the sun to grace
the day and of all things most appropriate held in her generous lap
beautiful aurora shells for which--to spoil the poem--I bartered
cocoa-nuts and rusty gnarly yams.
The lady was on a visit only to her lord and master, the monarch of all
he surveyed. Beside this was their three children also on a visit, from
Nassau, and two assistant keepers of the light which made up the total
of this little world in the ocean.
It was the smallest kingdom I had ever visited, peopled by happy human
beings and the most isolated by far.
The few blades of grass which had struggled into existence, not enough
to support a goat, was all there was to look at on the island except the
lighthouse, and the sand and themselves.
Some small buildings and a flagstaff had once adorned the place, but
together with a coop of chickens, the only stock of the
islanders--except a dog--had been swept away by a hurricane which had
passed over the island a short time before. The water for which we had
called being now in the canoe, and my people on board waiting for me, I
bade the worthy governor good-bye, and, saluting his charming island
queen in a seaman-like manner, hastened back to my own little world; and
bore away once more for the north. Sailing thence over the Great Bahama
Banks, in a crystal sea, we observed on the white marl bottom many
curious living things, among them the conch in its house of exquisite
tints and polished surface, the star-fish with radiated dome of curious
construction, and many more denizens of the place, the names of which I
could not tell, resting on the soft white bed under the sea.
"They who go down to the sea in ships, they see the wonders of the
Lord," I am reminded by a friend who writes me, on receipt of some of
these curious things which I secured on the voyage, adding: "For all
these curious and beautiful things are His handiwork. Who can look at
such things without the heart being lifted up in adoration?"
For words like these what sailor is there who would not search the caves
of the ocean? Words too, from a lady.
Two days of brisk sailing over the white Bahama Banks brought us to
Bimini. Thence a mere push would send us to the coast of our own native
America. The wind in the meantime hauling from regular nor'east trade to
the sou'west, as we came up to Bimini, promising a smooth passage
across, we launched out at once on the great Gulf Stream, and were swept
along by its restless motion, making on the first day, before the wind
and current, two hundred and twenty miles. This was great getting along
for a small canoe. Going at the same high rate of speed on the second
night in the stream, the canoe struck a spar and went over it with a
bound. Her keel was shattered by the shock, but finally shaking the
crippled timber clear of herself she came on quite well without it. No
other damage was done to our craft, although at times her very ribs were
threatened before clearing this lively ocean river. In the middle of the
current, where the seas were yet mountainous but regular, we went along
with a wide, swinging motion and fared well enough; but on nearing the
edge of the stream a confused sea was met with, standing all on end, in
every which way, beyond a sailor's comprehension. The motion of the
_Liberdade_ was then far from poetical or pleasant. The wind, in the
meantime, had chopped round to the nor'east, dead ahead; being thus
against the current, a higher and more confused sea than ever was heaped
up, giving us some uneasiness. We had, indeed, several unwelcome
visitors come tumbling aboard of our craft, one of which furiously
crashing down on her made all of her timbers bend and creak. However, I
could partially remedy this danger by changing the course.
"Seas like that can't break this boat," said our young boatswain; "she's
built strong." It was well to find among the crew this feeling of
assurance in the gallant little vessel. I, too, was confident in her
seaworthiness. Nevertheless, I shortened sail and brought her to the
wind, watching the lulls and easing her over the combers, as well as I
could. But wrathful Neptune was not to let us so easily off, for the
next moment a sea swept clean over the helmsman, wetting him through to
the skin and, most unkind cut of all, it put out our fire, and capsized
the hash and stove into the bottom of the canoe. This left us with but a
_damper_ for breakfast! Matters mended, however, as the day advanced,
and for supper we had a grand and glorious feast. Early in the afternoon
we made the land and got into smooth water. This of itself was a feast,
to our minds.
The land we now saw lying before us was hills of America, which we had
sailed many thousands of miles to see. Drawing in with the coast, we
made out, first the broad, rich forests, then open fields and villages,
with many signs of comfort on every hand. We found it was the land about
Bull's Bay on the coast of South Carolina, and night coming on, we could
plainly see Cape Roman Light to the north of us. The wind falling light
as we drew in with the coast, and finding a current against us, we
anchored, about two miles from the shore, in four fathoms of water. It
was now 8 p.m., October 28, 1888, thirteen days from Mayaguez,
twenty-one days from Barbadoes, etc.
The following was the actual time at sea and distances in nautical miles
from point to point on the courses steered, approximately:
_Days._ _ Distance._
From Paranagua to Santos 1 150
" Santos to Rio de Janeiro
(towed by _Finance_) ¾ 200
" Rio to Cape Frio 2 70
" Cape Frio to Carvellas 4 370
" Carvellas to Saint Paulo 3 270
" Saint Paulo to Bahia ½ 40
" Bahia to Pernambuco 5 390
" Pernambuco to Barbadoes 19 2,150
" Barbadoes to Mayaguez 5 570
" Mayaguez to Cape Roman 13 1,300
--- -----
53¼ 5,510
Computing all the distances of the ins and outs that we made would
considerably augment the sum. To say, therefore, that the _Liberdade_
averaged a hundred and three miles a day for fifty-three days would be
considerably inside the truth.
This was the voyage made in the boat which cost less than a hundred
dollars outside of our own labour of building. Journals the world over
have spoken not unkindly of the feat; encomiums in seven languages
reached us through the newspapers while we lay moored in Washington.
Should the same good fortune that followed the _Liberdade_ attend this
little literary craft, when finished, it would go safe into many lands.
Without looking, however, to this mark of good fortune, the journal of
the voyage has been as carefully constructed as was the _Liberdade_, and
I trust, as conscientiously, by a hand, alas! that has grasped the
sextant more often than the plane or pen, and for the love of doing.
This apology might have been more appropriately made in the beginning of
the journal, maybe, but it comes to me now, and like many other things
done, right or wrong, but done on the impulse of the moment, I put it
down.