A voyage to Senegal

by Jean Baptiste Léonard Durand

The great pass is generally about a hundred fathoms wide, and eight or nine feet deep; and at all times the only ships which can pass it, are those that draw seven or eight feet of water. The waves are so short and strong, that they break with a terrible violence; and this passage often proves an end to the most favourable navigation. The small pass is so narrow and shallow, that none but canoes or small boats can get through it.

The large opening cannot be passed without an expert pilot, who is in the habit of visiting it every day, to know exactly its state and depth; both of which are uncertain, as they vary according to circumstances. All, therefore, that is known, is the extent and rapidity of the floods; but the sudden variations in question must doubtless be attributed to the double action of the river and the sea.

The pilot who is engaged to conduct ships over the bar, has a large boat with a deck, and a crew of Negroes, who have no cloathing but a band of linen about six inches broad, which passes between their thighs: they are all strongly-made people, and excellent swimmers. But notwithstanding their knowledge and activity, the boat and its crew often perish: they, however, more frequently escape the destruction which threatens them, and often exert themselves for the safety of strangers. But woe be to the rash seamen who might dare to attempt without their assistance the passage of the bar, as they would infallibly perish. Fortunately this passage does not last longer than a quarter of an hour; but it inspires so much dread, that the length of time seems insupportable. The first persons who passed this bar must have been intrepid sailors.

When this passage is effected, its horrors are succeeded by a calm, as the course of the river then becomes as smooth and gentle as its entrance was shocking and difficult.

It is from twenty to twenty-five feet deep, and of a considerable width. The exhausted rowers then take breath, drink brandy, and dance and rejoice at their success: they of course always receive a recompence. When I entered, I gave them a louis d’or, with which they were so highly satisfied that they were a long time singing my generosity, and afterwards did me great honour in the colony.

The Negroes go through the little passage with much adroitness, in the canoes which they use either for fishing or to go on board the vessels that arrive. These canoes are sometimes made of nothing but the trunk of a tree hollowed out; but more frequently the bottom is of a single piece, while the sides are fastened together by small cords made of the bark of a tree, caulked with beaten straw and clay; those of the Senegal in general are caulked in the French manner. The crew of these little narrow canoes, which are seldom more than twelve feet long, is generally composed of five men. One of them sits at the poop, and steers with one hand, while with the other he bales out the water that has leaked into the canoe. The other four Negroes, keep erect with their faces towards the prow. They use paddles, which they plunge quickly into the water, and strike behind them; the paddles are in the shape of a baker’s peel, and they cause the boat to move and veer with quickness. These canoes have no seats, and are liable to overturn; but at this the crew are little concerned; they fix to the bottom or sides such articles as they intend to convey to the ships, and when they reach them, they upset the canoe, which remains so till they return; when one of them gets in, and bales out the water, while the rest swim alongside, and keep the canoe from sinking, till it is ready for them to enter, and continue their voyage. When at sea, these boats seem as if they would be lost every instant, as the least wave seems to raise them to the clouds; while on descending with it, they disappear, as if they were ingulphed by that which follows.

The boat with a deck, which has already been mentioned, serves not only to perform the passage of the bar, but also to unlade the vessels that are about to enter the river; by which means, those from 100 to 150 tons generally ascend it, while such as are of a greater burden remain in the road. The process of unlading, on account of the roughness of the water, is difficult and expensive; and during the delay which it occasions, the crews of the European ships often fall sick.

It is perhaps to the inconveniences of the bar of the Senegal, that we are indebted for the safety of our establishments in that quarter; as one or two armed boats, within the bar, would be sufficient to sink all the vessels that might attempt to pass it; because only one ship can make the passage at the time. The best months for entering the river, are April, May, June, and July; and the most dangerous, those of September, October, November, and December, when the winds blow impetuously, and increase the course of the current so much as to render the passage almost impracticable.

On arriving in the road, you see to the right a spot called Barbary Point, which separates the river from the sea: it is flat and barren, being principally a moving sand, which being fine and dry, is blown about by the wind. It is about a hundred fathoms in length, and is frequented only by pelicans, which are not worth the trouble of hunting, and by small crabs, which are not eaten. The right bank is called Guinea-land, and is much better than Barbary Point. Its name signifies, in the language of the country, the Devil’s land: it is level and covered with large trees and beautiful grass; and is dependant on the kingdom of Cayor, which finishes at the isle of Bifeche, about six leagues from the bar.

Within two leagues of the bar is a natural canal, formed by the river which leads to the village of Bieurt: on it are two little isles; one of them, called Bocos, on which the French had a factory; and the other Mogue, which is neither inhabited nor cultivated, though it contains very abundant salt-pits. At this place is also an inexhaustible quarry of oyster-shells, from which lime is made. Such prodigious heaps of oyster-shells have been found in other parts; but it is remarkable that they are shells only: for, notwithstanding the assertions of several philosophers and historians, the oyster is unknown at Senegal.