On the 17th, at half past four in the morning, we saw land to the north-west, which we could not approach, the wind blowing from that quarter. At noon, the latitude, by observation, was 53° 49ʹ, longitude 168° 5ʹ, and variation 10° E. The land in sight bore north by west, twelve or fourteen leagues distant. This land we take to be the island Mednoi, laid down in the Russian charts to the south-east of Beering’s Island. It is high land, and appeared clear of snow. We place it in the latitude 54° 28ʹ, longitude 167° 52ʹ. We got no soundings with one hundred and fifty fathoms of line.
Captain Clerke was now no longer able to get out of his bed; he therefore desired that the officers would receive their orders from me, and directed that we should proceed with all speed to Awatska Bay. The wind continuing westerly, we stood on to the south till early on the morning of the 19th, when, after a few hours rain, it blew from the eastward, and freshened to a strong gale. We accordingly made the most of it whilst it lasted, by standing to the westward under all the sail we could carry. On the 20th, the wind shifting to the south-west, our course was to the west-north-west. At noon, the latitude by observation was 53° 7ʹ, longitude 162° 49ʹ. On the 21st, at half past five in the morning, we saw a very high-peaked mountain on the coast of Kamtschatka, called Cheepoonskoi Mountain, from its lying behind the Noss, bearing north-west by north, twenty-five or thirty leagues distant. At noon, the coast extended from north by east to west, with a very great haziness upon it, and distant about twelve leagues. We had light airs the remaining part of this and the following day, and got no soundings with one hundred and forty fathoms of line.
On the 22d of August, 1779, at nine o’clock in the morning, departed this life Captain Charles Clerke, in the thirty-eighth year of his age. He died of a consumption, which had evidently commenced before he left England, and of which he had lingered during the whole voyage. His very gradual decay had long made him a melancholy object to his friends; yet the equanimity with which he bore it, the constant flow of good spirits, which continued to the last hour, and a cheerful resignation to his fate, afforded them some consolation. It was impossible not to feel a more than common degree of compassion for a person whose life had been a continued scene of those difficulties and hardships to which a seaman’s occupation is subject, and under which he at last sunk. He was brought up to the navy from his earliest youth, and had been in several actions during the war which began in 1756, particularly in that between the Bellona and Courageux, where, being stationed in the mizen-top, he was carried overboard with the mast, but was taken up without having received any hurt. He was midshipman in the Dolphin, commanded by Commodore Byron, on her first voyage round the world, and afterward served on the American station. In 1768, he made his second voyage round the world, in the Endeavour, as master’s mate, and by the promotion which took place during the expedition, he returned a lieutenant. His third voyage round the world was in the Resolution, of which he was appointed the second lieutenant: and soon after his return, in 1775, he was promoted to the rank of master and commander. When the present expedition was ordered to be fitted out, he was appointed to the Discovery, to accompany Captain Cook; and by the death of the latter succeeded, as has been already mentioned, to the chief command.
It would be doing his memory extreme injustice not to say, that during the short time the expedition was under his direction, he was most zealous and anxious for its success. His health, about the time the principal command devolved upon him, began to decline very rapidly, and was every way unequal to encounter the rigours of a high northern climate. But the vigour and activity of his mind had in no shape suffered by the decay of his body: and though he knew, that by delaying his return to a warmer climate, he was giving up the only chance that remained for his recovery, yet, careful and jealous to the last degree that a regard to his own situation should never bias his judgment to the prejudice of the service, he persevered in the search of a passage till it was the opinion of every officer in both ships that it was impracticable, and that any farther attempts would not only be fruitless but dangerous.
CHAP. V.
RETURN TO THE HARBOUR OF SAINT PETER AND SAINT PAUL.—PROMOTION OF OFFICERS.—FUNERAL OF CAPTAIN CLERKE.—DAMAGES OF THE DISCOVERY REPAIRED.—VARIOUS OTHER OCCUPATIONS OF THE SHIPS’ CREWS.—LETTERS FROM THE COMMANDER.—SUPPLY OF FLOUR AND NAVAL STORES FROM A RUSSIAN GALLIOT.—ACCOUNT OF AN EXILE.—BEAR-HUNTING AND FISHING PARTIES.—DISGRACE OF THE SERJEANT.—CELEBRATION OF THE KING’S CORONATION-DAY, AND VISIT FROM THE COMMANDER.—THE SERJEANT REINSTATED.—A RUSSIAN SOLDIER PROMOTED AT OUR REQUEST.—REMARKS ON THE DISCIPLINE OF THE RUSSIAN ARMY.—CHURCH AT PARATOUNCA.—METHOD OF BEAR-HUNTING.—FARTHER ACCOUNT OF THE BEARS AND KAMTSCHADALES.—INSCRIPTION TO THE MEMORY OF CAPTAIN CLERKE.—SUPPLY OF CATTLE.—ENTERTAINMENTS ON THE EMPRESS’S NAME-DAY.—PRESENT FROM THE COMMANDER.—ATTEMPT OF A MARINE TO DESERT.—WORK OUT OF THE BAY.—NAUTICAL AND GEOGRAPHICAL DESCRIPTION OF AWATSKA BAY.—ASTRONOMICAL TABLES, AND OBSERVATIONS.
I sent Mr. Williamson to acquaint Captain Gore with the death of Captain Clerke, and received a letter from him, ordering me to use all my endeavours to keep in company with the Discovery; and, in case of a separation, to make the best of my way to the harbour of St. Peter and St. Paul. At noon, we were in latitude 53° 8ʹ N., longitude 160° 40ʹ E., with Cheepoonskoi Noss bearing west. We had light airs in the afternoon, which lasted through the forenoon of the 23d. At noon, a fresh breeze springing up from the eastward, we stood in for the entrance of Awatska Bay; and at six in the evening, saw it bearing west-north-west half west, distant five leagues. At eight, the light-house, in which we now found a good light, bore north-west by west, three miles distant. The wind about this time died away; but the tide being in our favour, we sent the boats ahead, and towed beyond the narrow parts of the entrance; and at one o’clock in the morning of the 24th, the ebb-tide setting against us, we dropped anchor. At nine, we weighed, and turned up the bay with light airs, and the boats still ahead till one; when, by the help of a fresh breeze, we anchored, before three in the afternoon, in the harbour of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, with our ensign half-staff up, on account of our carrying the body of our late Captain; and were soon after followed by the Discovery.
We had no sooner anchored, than our old friend, the serjeant, who was still the commander of the place, came on board with a present of berries, intended for our poor deceased captain. He was exceedingly affected when we told him of his death, and showed him the coffin that contained his body. And as it was Captain Clerke’s particular request to be buried on shore, and, if possible, in the church of Paratounca, we took the present opportunity of explaining this matter to the serjeant, and consulting with him about the proper steps to be taken on the occasion. In the course of our conversation, which, for want of an interpreter, was carried on but imperfectly, we learned that professor de L’Isle, and several Russian gentlemen, who died here, had been buried in the ground near the barracks, at the ostrog of St. Peter and St. Paul; and that this place would be preferable to Paratounca, as the church was to be removed thither the next year. It was therefore determined, that we should wait for the arrival of the priest of Paratounca, whom the serjeant advised us to send for, as the only person that could satisfy our inquiries on this subject. The serjeant having, at the same time, signified his intentions of sending off an express to the commander at Bolcheretsk, to acquaint him with our arrival, Captain Gore availed himself of that occasion of writing him a letter, in which he requested that sixteen head of black cattle might be sent with all possible expedition; and because the commander did not understand any language except his own, the nature of our request was made known to the serjeant, who readily undertook to send, along with our letter, an explanation of its contents.
We could not help remarking, that, although the country was much improved in its appearance since we were last here, the Russians looked, if possible, worse now than they did then. It is to be owned, they observed, that this was also the case with us; and as neither party seemed to like to be told of their bad looks, we found mutual consolation in throwing the blame upon the country, whose green and lively complexion, we agreed, cast a deadness and sallowness upon our own.
The irruption of the volcano, which was so violent when we sailed out of the bay, we found had done no damage here, notwithstanding stones had fallen at the ostrog, of the size of a goose’s egg. This was all the news we had to inquire after, and all they had to tell; excepting that of the arrival of Soposnikoff from Oonalashka, who took charge of the packet Captain Cook had sent to the Admiralty, and which, it gave us much satisfaction to find, had been forwarded.