CHAPTER XXIII.
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
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
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 Chilóe. 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
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
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
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 54° 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
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 wănăkāye, as he called them—as they were to be found near that place.
"12th. We continued our course with a fresh and favouring
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
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
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
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
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
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
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 44°, 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
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
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
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 27° to 32°. The tide was carefully noticed this day, being full
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
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.
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 Peñas, 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 Peñas 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
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
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
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
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 Chilóe. 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.
"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.
