That island is about four leagues long, its north side runs W. N. W. as far as Bay Dauphine, the depth of which, is about two miles, and the breadth at the entrance, half a league; it then runs W. to its most westerly extremity, called Cape St. Louis. As, after finding out our error concerning the false strait, we run within a mile of the shore of Louis le Grand island, we distinctly saw Port Phelippeaux, which appeared to be a very convenient and well situated creek. At noon Cape Quade bore W. 13° S. two leagues distant, and Cape St. Louis, E. by N. about two leagues and a half off. The fair weather continued all day, and we bore away with all our sails set.
From Cape Quade the strait runs W. N. W. and N. W. by W. without any considerable turnings, from which it has got the name of Long-Lane, or Long-Reach, (Longue Rue). The figure of Cape Quade is remarkable. It consists of craggy rocks, of which, those forming its highest summits, do not look unlike ancient ruins. As far as this cape, the coasts are every where wooded, and the verdure of the trees softens the aspect of the frozen tops of the mountains. Having doubled Cape Quade, the nature of the country is quite altered. The strait is inclosed on both sides by barren rocks, on which there is no appearance of any soil. Their high summits are always covered with snow, and the deep vallies are filled with immense masses of ice, the colour of which bears the mark of antiquity. Narborough, struck with this horrid aspect, called this part, Desolation of the South, nor can any thing more dreadful be imagined.
Being opposite Cape Quade, the coast of Terra del Fuego seems terminated by an advanced cape, which is Cape Monday, and which I reckon is about fifteen leagues from Cape Quade. On the coast of the mainland, are three capes, to which we gave names. The first, which from its figure, we called Cap Fendu, or Split Cape, is about five leagues from Cape Quade, between two fine bays, in which the anchorage is safe, and the bottom as good as the sheltered situation. The other two capes received the names of our ships, Cap de l’Etoile, three leagues west of Cap Fendu, and Cap de la Boudeuse, in the same situation, and about the same distance from the Cape of the Etoile. All these lands are high and steep; both coasts appear clear, and seem to have good anchoring places, but happily, the wind being fair for our course, did not give us time to sound them. The strait in this part, called Longue Rue, is about two leagues broad; it grows more narrow towards Cape Monday, where it is not above four miles broad.
Dangerous night.
At nine o’clock in the evening, we were about three leagues E. by S. and E. S. E. off Cape Monday. It always blew very fresh from east, and the weather being fine, I resolved to continue my course during the night, making little sail. We handed the studding sails, and close-reefed the top-sails. Towards ten o’clock at night the weather became foggy, and the wind encreased so much, that we were obliged to haul our boats on board. It rained much, and the weather became so black at eleven, that we lost all sight of land. About half an hour after, reckoning myself a-breast of Cape Monday, I made signal to bring-to on the star-board tack, and thus we passed the rest of the night, filling or backing, according as we reckoned ourselves to be too near one or the other shore. This night we have been in one of the most critical situations during the whole voyage.
At half an hour past three, by the dawn of day, we had sight of the land, and I gave orders to fill. We stood W. by N. till eight o’clock, and from eight till noon, between W. by N. and W. N. W. The wind was always east, a little breeze, and very misty. From time to time we saw some parts of the coast, but often we entirely lost sight of it. At last, at noon, we saw Cape Pillar, and the Evangelists. The latter could only be seen from the mast-head. As we advanced towards the side of Cape Pillar, we discovered, with joy, an immense horizon, no longer bounded by lands, and a great sea from the west, which announced a vast ocean to us. The wind did not continue E. it shifted to W. S. W. and we ran N. W. till half an hour past two, when Cape Victory bore N. W. and Cape Pillar, S. 3° W.
End of the strait, and description of that part.
After passing Cape Monday, the north coast bends like a bow, and the strait opens to four, five, and six leagues in breadth. I reckon about sixteen leagues from Cape Monday to Cape Pillar, which terminates the south coast of the straits. The direction of the channel between these two capes, is W. by N. The southern coast is here high and steep, the northern one is bordered with islands and rocks, which make it dangerous to come near it: it is more prudent to keep the south coast on board. I can say no more concerning these last lands: I have hardly seen them, except at some short intervals, when the fogs allowed our perceiving but small parts of them. The last land you see upon the north coast, is Cape Victory (Cap des Victoires), which seems to be of middling height, as is Cape Deseado (Desiré), which is without the straits, upon Terra del Fuego, about two leagues S. W. of Cape Pillar. The coast between these two capes is bounded for near a league into the sea, by several little isles or breakers, known by the name of the Twelve Apostles.
Cape Pillar is a very high land, or rather a great mass of rocks, which terminates in two great cliffs, formed in the shape of towers, inclining to N. W. and making the extremity of the cape. About six or seven leagues N. W. of this cape, you see four little isles, called the Evangelists; three of them are low, the fourth, which looks like a hay-stack, is at some distance from the rest. They ly S. S. W. about four or five leagues off Cape Victory. In order to come out of the strait, it is indifferent whether you leave them to the south or northward; in order to go in, I would advise that they should be left to the northward. It is then likewise necessary to range along the southern coast; the northern one is bordered with little isles, and seems cut by large bays, which might occasion dangerous mistakes. From two o’clock in the afternoon, the winds were variable, between W. S. W. and W. N. W. and blew very fresh; we plyed till sun-setting, with all our sails set, in order to double the Twelve Apostles. |Departure taken from the strait of Magalhaens.| We were for a long while afraid we should not be able to do it, but be forced to pass the night still in the straits, by which means we might have been obliged to stay there more than one day. But about six o’clock in the evening we gave over plying; at seven, Cape Pillar was doubled, and at eight we were quite clear of the land, and advancing, all sails set, and with a fine northerly wind, into the westerly ocean. We then laid down the bearings whence I took my departure, in 52° 50′ S. lat. and 79° 9′ W. long, from Paris.
Thus, after constant bad and contrary weather at Port Galant, for twenty-six days together, thirty-six hours of fair wind, such as we never expected, were sufficient to bring us into the Pacific Ocean; an example, which I believe is the only one, of a navigation without anchoring from Port Galant to the open sea.