On returning to the lower harbour of all, we went to the large village before spoken of, which is by far the most finished of any that we have seen on this island. The streets are regular and clean swept; each house has a neat cane wall, as well as a screen before the door; plantain and other trees are growing so thickly in the inside of the fence, that they completely shade the house. Near the beach were several large houses, in which a number of people were seated writing: on going up to them they gave us tea and cakes, and afterwards allowed us to go over the village without restraint; they were curious to know whether the brig was coming into the harbour or not, and if so, how many days we meant to stay; they expressed neither pleasure nor regret when we said that we were not coming in. In front of the village, and parallel with the beach, there is a splendid avenue thirty feet wide, formed by two rows of large trees, whose branches join overhead, and effectually screen the walk from the sun; here and there are placed wooden benches, and at some places stone seats are fixed near the trees: this space, which is about a quarter of a mile long, is probably used as a public walk.
A range of hills of a semicircular form embraces the village, and limits its extent: at most places it is steep, but at the point where the north end joins the harbour, there is an overhanging cliff about eighty feet high, the upper part of which extends considerably beyond the base; at eight or ten yards from the ground on this inclined face, a long horizontal gallery has been hewn out of the solid rock: it communicates with a number of small square excavations still deeper in the rock, for the reception of the vases containing the bones of the dead.
The trees and creepers on the edge of the precipice hung down so as to meet the tops of those which grew below, and thus a screen was formed which threw the gallery into deep shade: every thing here being perfectly still, the scene was very solemn and imposing. It took us somewhat by surprise, for nothing in its external appearance indicated the purpose to which the place was appropriated: happening to discover an opening amongst the trees and brushwood, and resolving to see what it led to, we entered by a narrow path winding through the grove. The liveliness of the scenery without, and the various amusements of the day, had put us all into high spirits, but the unexpected and sacred gloom of the scene in which we suddenly found ourselves had an instantaneous effect in repressing the mirth of the whole party.
This village is called Oonting, and is certainly the same that is alluded to by the chiefs, and which we formerly wrote down Winching and Oonching.
This excellent harbour, which we discovered, has been named Port
Melville, in honour of Lord Viscount Melville, First Lord of the
Admiralty.
It was quite dark when we reached the brig. As a heavy swell was rolling in, no time was lost in getting under weigh, but before we could succeed in running well off the reefs, the wind suddenly changed, and the weather, which before had been fine, became so dark and squally, that we almost lost sight of the shore. Our situation was now very critical, for we had just sufficient knowledge of the coast, to be sensible how extremely dangerous it was; and the wind, which blew directly on the shore, came in such violent gusts, that there was every reason to apprehend the loss of our topmasts; to reef the sails was impossible, as the delay which this operation must have caused would have been fatal. While things were in this state, it became necessary to tack, but owing to the heavy and irregular swell, the brig came round again against our will, and before the sails could be properly trimmed, she had gone stern foremost almost to the verge of the reef, on which the sea was breaking to a great height. Had this occurred a second time, nothing could have prevented our being wrecked. After beating about in this awkward predicament for two hours, the wind shifted a little, and enabled us to stretch off clear of all danger.
12th of October.—It blew so hard that we kept out at sea clear of the shore.
13th of October.—As the weather had become moderate, we stood in, and determined the position of five islands which lie to the northward of Port Melville.
14th of October.—During this day the whole of the east side of the great island was explored. The north and north-east sides are high, and destitute of cultivation; nearly in the middle, on this side, there is a deep indenture on the coast, and the wind being such as to admit of sailing out again, we ran in under low sail with the usual precautions; notwithstanding which we were very nearly on the reefs, for the water shoaled suddenly from twenty-four to eight fathoms; and although the brig was instantly tacked, the soundings as she came round were only five fathoms, and to leeward of us the ragged tops of a rock just level with the surface were discovered at the distance of only fifty yards. In exploring such places there ought to be a boat on each bow, as well as one a-head. The coast from this bay to the south point of the island has a belt of coral reefs at the distance of ten and fifteen miles from the shore, and therefore cannot be approached by a ship without great danger. The extreme south point is comparatively clear of coral; we therefore anchored off it at sunset, proposing to land next day to determine its position. We found the iron cables of great use when anchoring amongst coral reefs.
15th of October.—It blew hard last night, but in the forenoon it moderated sufficiently to allow of our landing. We ascertained the latitude of the extreme south point with precision, and made several other observations, all circumstances being favourable.