The boat, which I had sent to sound to the northward, was returned with the good news of having found a very fine passage. It was then too late to profit of it the same day; for night was coming on. Happily it passed quietly, both on shore and at sea. The 14th in the morning, wind at east, I ordered the Etoile, who had got her water and all her men on board, to weigh and go out by the new north passage. We could not go out by that passage before the store-ship, she being moored to the northward of us. At eleven she came to sail, from a hawser, which she had carried on board of us. I kept her long-boat and two small anchors; I likewise took on board, as soon as she was got under sail, the end of the cable of her S. E. anchor, which lay in a good bottom. We now weighed our sheet-anchor, carried the two stream-anchors further out; and were by this means moored by two great, and three small anchors. At two o’clock in the afternoon, we had the satisfaction of seeing the Etoile without the reefs. Our situation by this means became less terrifying; we had at least secured to ourselves the means of returning to our country, by putting one of the ships out of danger. When M. de la Giraudais was got out into the offing, he sent back his boat to me, with Mr. Lavari Leroi, who had been employed to survey the passage.
We laboured all day, and a part of the night, to complete our water, and to remove the hospital and the camp. |Inscription buried.| I buried near the shed, an act of taking possession, inscribed on an oak plank, and a bottle well corked and glued, containing the names of the officers of both ships. I have followed the same method in regard to all the lands discovered during the course of this voyage. It was two o’clock in the morning, before every one of our people were on board: the night was still stormy enough to give us some disturbance, notwithstanding the number of anchors we had moored.
The Boudeuse sets sail; runs new dangers.
On the 15th, at six o’clock in the morning, the wind blowing off shore, and the sky looking stormy, we weighed our anchor, veered away the cable of that which belonged to the Etoile, cut one of the hawsers, and veered out the other two, setting sail under our fore-sail and top-sails, in order to go out by the eastern passage. We left the two long-boats to weigh the anchors; and as soon as we were got out of the reefs, I sent the two barges armed, under the command of ensign the chevalier de Suzannet, to protect the work of the long-boats. We were about a quarter of a league off shore, and began to give ourselves joy of having so happily left an anchorage, that had given us such terrible alarms, when the wind ceasing all at once, the tide and a great swell from the eastward, began to drive us towards the reefs to leeward of the passage. The worst consequences of the shipwreck, with which we had hitherto been threatened, would have been to pass the remainder of our days on an isle adorned with all the gifts of nature, and to exchange the sweets of the mother-country, for a peaceable life, exempted from cares. But now shipwreck appeared with a more cruel aspect; the ship being rapidly carried upon the rocks, could not have resisted the violence of the sea two minutes, and hardly some of the best swimmers could have saved their lives. At the beginning of the danger, I had made signal for the long boats and barges to return and tow us. They came at the very moment, when we being only 35 or 36 fathom (50 toises) from the reef, our situation was become quite desperate; the more so as we could not let go an anchor. A westerly breeze, springing up that instant, brought hope along with it; it actually freshened by degrees; and at nine o’clock in the morning, we were quite clear of all dangers.
Departure from Taiti; losses which we sustained there.
I immediately sent the boats back in quest of the anchors, and I remained plying to wait for them. In the afternoon we joined the Etoile. At five in the evening our long-boat came on board with the best bower, and the cable of the Etoile, which she carried to her: our barge, that of the Etoile, and her long-boat returned soon after; the latter bringing us our stream-anchor and a hawser. As to the other two stream-anchors, the night coming on, and the sailors being extremely fatigued, they could not weigh them that day. I at first intended to keep plying off and on during night, and to send them out for them the next morning; but, at mid-night a strong gale sprung at E. N. E. obliging me to hoist in the boats, and make sail, in order to get clear of the coast.
Thus an anchorage of nine days cost us six anchors; which we should not have lost, had we been provided with some iron chains. This is a precaution which no navigator ought to forget, if he is going upon such a voyage as this.
Regret of the islanders at our departing.
Now that the ships are in safety, let us stop a moment to receive the farewel of the islanders. At daybreak, when they perceived us setting sail, Ereti leaped alone into the first periagua he could find on shore, and came on board. There he embraced all of us, held us some moments in his arms, shedding tears, and appearing much affected at our departure. Soon after, his great periagua came on board, laden with refreshments of all kinds; his wives were in the periagua; and with them the same islander, who, on the first day of our land-fall, had, lodged on board the Etoile. |One of them embarks with us, at his own and his nation’s request.| Ereti took him by the hand, and, presenting him to me, gave me to understand, that this man, whose name was Aotourou, desired to go with us, and begged that I would consent to it. He then presented him to each of the officers in particular; telling them that it was one of his friends, whom he entrusted with those who were likewise his friends, and recommending him to us with the greatest signs of concern. We made Ereti more presents of all sorts; after which he took leave of us, and returned to his wives, who did not cease to weep all the time of the periagua’s being along-side of us. In it there was likewise a young and handsome girl, whom the islander that stayed along with us went to embrace. He gave her three pearls which he had in his ears, kissed her once more; and, notwithstanding the tears of this young wife or mistress, he tore himself from her, and came aboard the ship. Thus we quitted this good people; and I was no less surprised at the sorrow they certified on our departure, than at their affectionate confidence on our arrival.