The naturalists who have visited the Pacific, seem to have had their attention riveted by the lagoon-islands, or atolls,—those singular rings of coral-land which rise abruptly out of the unfathomable ocean—and have passed over, almost unnoticed, the scarcely less wonderful encircling barrier-reefs. The theory most generally received on the formation of atolls, is that they are based on submarine craters; but where can we find a crater of the shape of Bow atoll, which is five times as long as it is broad ([Plate I., Figure 4]); or like that of Menchikoff Island ([Plate II., Figure 3.]), with its three loops, together sixty miles in length; or like Rimsky Korsacoff, narrow, crooked, and fifty-four miles long; or like the northern Maldiva atolls, made up of numerous ring-formed reefs, placed on the margin of a disc,—one of which discs is eighty-eight miles in length, and only from ten to twenty in breadth? It is, also, not a little improbable, that there should have existed as many craters of immense size crowded together beneath the sea, as there are now in some parts atolls. But this theory lies under a greater difficulty, as will be evident, when we consider on what foundations the atolls of the larger archipelagoes rest: nevertheless, if the rim of a crater afforded a basis at the proper depth, I am far from denying that a reef like a perfectly characterised atoll might not be formed; some such, perhaps, now exist; but I cannot believe in the possibility of the greater number having thus originated.
An earlier and better theory was proposed by Chamisso;[[1]] he supposes that as the more massive kinds of corals prefer the surf, the outer portions, in a reef rising from a submarine basis, would first reach the surface and consequently form a ring. But on this view it must be assumed, that in every case the basis consists of a flat bank; for if it were conically formed, like a mountainous mass, we can see no reason why the coral should spring up from the flanks, instead of from the central and highest parts: considering the number of the atolls in the Pacific and Indian Oceans, this assumption is very improbable. As the lagoons of atolls are sometimes even more than forty fathoms deep, it must, also, be assumed on this view, that at a depth at which the waves do not break, the coral grows more vigorously on the edges of a bank than on its central part; and this is an assumption without any evidence in support of it. I remarked, in the third chapter, that a reef, growing on a detached bank, would tend to assume an atoll-like structure; if, therefore, corals were to grow up from a bank, with a level surface some fathoms submerged, having steep sides and being situated in a deep sea, a reef not to be distinguished from an atoll, might be formed: I believe some such exist in the West Indies. But a difficulty of the same kind with that affecting the crater theory, runners, as we shall presently see, this view inapplicable to the greater number of atolls.
[1] Kotzebue’s “First Voyage,” volume iii., page 331.
No theory worthy of notice has been advanced to account for those barrier-reefs, which encircle islands of moderate dimensions. The great reef which fronts the coast of Australia has been supposed, but without any special facts, to rest on the edge of a submarine precipice, extending parallel to the shore. The origin of the third class or of fringing-reefs presents, I believe, scarcely any difficulty, and is simply consequent on the polypifers not growing up from great depths, and their not flourishing close to gently shelving beaches where the water is often turbid.
What cause, then, has given to atolls and barrier-reefs their characteristic forms? Let us see whether an important deduction will not follow from the consideration of these two circumstances, first, the reef-building corals flourishing only at limited depths; and secondly, the vastness of the areas interspersed with coral-reefs and coral-islets, none of which rise to a greater height above the level of the sea, than that attained by matter thrown up by the waves and winds. I do not make this latter statement vaguely; I have carefully sought for descriptions of every island in the intertropical seas; and my task has been in some degree abridged by a map of the Pacific, corrected in 1834 by MM. D’Urville and Lottin, in which the low islands are distinguished from the high ones (even from those much less than a hundred feet in height) by being written without a capital letter; I have detected a few errors in this map, respecting the height of some of the islands, which will be noticed in the Appendix, where I treat of coral formations in geographical order. To the Appendix, also, I must refer for a more particular account of the data on which the statements on the next page are grounded. I have ascertained, and chiefly from the writings of Cook, Kotzebue, Bellinghausen, Duperrey, Beechey, and Lutké, regarding the Pacific; and from Moresby[[2]] with respect to the Indian Ocean, that in the following cases the term “low island” strictly means land of the height commonly attained by matter thrown up by the winds and the waves of an open sea. If we draw a line (the plan I have always adopted) joining the external atolls of that part of the Low Archipelago in which the islands are numerous, the figure will be a pointed ellipse (reaching from Hood to Lazaref Island), of which the longer axis is 840 geographical miles, and the shorter 420 miles; in this space[[3]] none of the innumerable islets united into great rings rise above the stated level. The Gilbert group is very narrow, and 300 miles in length. In a prolonged line from this group, at the distance of 240 miles, is the Marshall Archipelago, the figure of which is an irregular square, one end being broader than the other; its length is 520 miles, with an average width of 240; these two groups together are 1,040 miles in length, and all their islets are low. Between the southern end of the Gilbert and the northern end of Low Archipelago, the ocean is thinly strewed with islands, all of which, as far as I have been able to ascertain, are low; so that from nearly the southern end of the Low Archipelago, to the northern end of the Marshall Archipelago, there is a narrow band of ocean, more than 4,000 miles in length, containing a great number of islands, all of which are low. In the western part of the Caroline Archipelago, there is a space of 480 miles in length, and about 100 broad, thinly interspersed with low islands. Lastly, in the Indian Ocean, the archipelago of the Maldivas is 470 miles in length, and 60 in breadth; that of the Laccadives is 150 by 100 miles; as there is a low island between these two groups, they may be considered as one group of 1,000 miles in length. To this may be added the Chagos group of low islands, situated 280 miles distant, in a line prolonged from the southern extremity of the Maldivas. This group, including the submerged banks, is 170 miles in length and 80 in breadth. So striking is the uniformity in direction of these three archipelagoes, all the islands of which are low, that Captain Moresby, in one of his papers, speaks of them as parts of one great chain, nearly 1,500 miles long. I am, then, fully justified in repeating, that enormous spaces, both in the Pacific and Indian Oceans, are interspersed with islands, of which not one rises above that height, to which the waves and winds in an open sea can heap up matter.
[2] See also Captain Owen’s and Lieutenant Wood’s papers in the “Geographical Journal”, on the Maldiva and Laccadive Archipelagoes. These officers particularly refer to the lowness of the islets; but I chiefly ground my assertion respecting these two groups, and the Chagos group, from information communicated to me by Captain Moresby.
[3] I find from Mr. Couthouy’s pamphlet (page 58) that Aurora Island is about two hundred feet in height; it consists of coral-rock, and seems to have been formed by the elevation of an atoll. It lies north-east of Tahiti, close without the line bounding the space coloured dark blue in the map appended to this volume. Honden Island, which is situated in the extreme north-west part of the Low Archipelago, according to measurements made on board the Beagle, whilst sailing by, is 114 feet from the summit of the trees to the water’s edge. This island appeared to resemble the other atolls of the group.
On what foundations, then, have these reefs and islets of coral been constructed? A foundation must originally have been present beneath each atoll at that limited depth, which is indispensable for the first growth of the reef-building polypifers. A conjecture will perhaps be hazarded, that the requisite bases might have been afforded by the accumulation of great banks of sediment, which owing to the action of superficial currents (aided possibly by the undulatory movement of the sea) did not quite reach the surface,—as actually appears to have been the case in some parts of the West Indian Sea. But in the form and disposition of the groups of atolls, there is nothing to countenance this notion; and the assumption without any proof, that a number of immense piles of sediment have been heaped on the floor of the great Pacific and Indian Oceans, in their central parts far remote from land, and where the dark blue colour of the limpid water bespeaks its purity, cannot for one moment be admitted.
The many widely-scattered atolls must, therefore, rest on rocky bases. But we cannot believe that the broad summit of a mountain lies buried at the depth of a few fathoms beneath every atoll, and nevertheless throughout the immense areas above-named, with not one point of rock projecting above the level of the sea; for we may judge with some accuracy of mountains beneath the sea, by those on the land; and where can we find a single chain several hundred miles in length and of considerable breadth, much less several such chains, with their many broad summits attaining the same height, within from 120 to 180 feet? If the data be thought insufficient, on which I have grounded my belief, respecting the depth at which the reef-building polypifers can exist, and it be assumed that they can flourish at a depth of even one hundred fathoms, yet the weight of the above argument is but little diminished, for it is almost equally improbable, that as many submarine mountains, as there are low islands in the several great and widely separated areas above specified, should all rise within six hundred feet of the surface of the sea and not one above it, as that they should be of the same height within the smaller limit of one or two hundred feet. So highly improbable is this supposition, that we are compelled to believe, that the bases of the many atolls did never at any one period all lie submerged within the depth of a few fathoms beneath the surface, but that they were brought into the requisite position or level, some at one period and some at another, through movements in the earth’s crust. But this could not have been effected by elevation, for the belief that points so numerous and so widely separated were successively uplifted to a certain level, but that not one point was raised above that level, is quite as improbable as the former supposition, and indeed differs little from it. It will probably occur to those who have read Ehrenberg’s account of the Reefs of the Red Sea, that many points in these great areas may have been elevated, but that as soon as raised, the protuberant parts were cut off by the destroying action of the waves: a moment’s reflection, however, on the basin-like form of the atolls, will show that this is impossible; for the upheaval and subsequent abrasion of an island would leave a flat disc, which might become coated with coral, but not a deeply concave surface; moreover, we should expect to see, in some parts at least, the rock of the foundation brought to the surface. If, then, the foundations of the many atolls were not uplifted into the requisite position, they must of necessity have subsided into it; and this at once solves every difficulty,[[4]] for we may safely infer, from the facts given in the last chapter, that during a gradual subsidence the corals would be favourably circumstanced for building up their solid frame works and reaching the surface, as island after island slowly disappeared. Thus areas of immense extent in the central and most profound parts of the great oceans, might become interspersed with coral-islets, none of which would rise to a greater height than that attained by detritus heaped up by the sea, and nevertheless they might all have been formed by corals, which absolutely required for their growth a solid foundation within a few fathoms of the surface.
[4] The additional difficulty on the crater hypothesis before alluded to, will now be evident; for on this view the volcanic action must be supposed to have formed within the areas specified a vast number of craters, all rising within a few fathoms of the surface, and not one above it. The supposition that the craters were at different times upraised above the surface, and were there abraded by the surf and subsequently coated by corals, is subject to nearly the same objections with those given above in this paragraph; but I consider it superfluous to detail all the arguments opposed to such a notion. Chamisso’s theory, from assuming the existence of so many banks, all lying at the proper depth beneath the water, is also vitally defective. The same observation applies to an hypothesis of Lieutenant Nelson’s (“Geolog. Trans.” volume v., page 122), who supposes that the ring-formed structure is caused by a greater number of germs of corals becoming attached to the declivity, than to the central plateau of a submarine bank: it likewise applies to the notion formerly entertained (Forster’s “Observ.” page 151), that lagoon-islands owe their peculiar form to the instinctive tendencies of the polypifers. According to this latter view, the corals on the outer margin of the reef instinctively expose themselves to the surf in order to afford protection to corals living in the lagoon, which belong to other genera, and to other families!