"The worst was over, and the rest seemed sure."
But a severe trial was still in store for them!
On entering Berkeley Sound, every man was at his post, ready to let go the anchor. The look-outs were on the watch, men were stationed in the main-shrouds to heave the lead. Then first at twenty, after at eighteen fathoms, the presence of rocks was reported. The ship was now about half a league off shore, and Freycinet thought it prudent to put her off about two points. This precaution proved fatal, for the corvette suddenly struck violently on a hidden rock. As she struck, the soundings gave fifteen fathoms to starboard, and twelve to larboard. The reef against which the corvette had run, was, therefore, not so wide as the vessel itself; in fact, it was but the pointed summit of a rock.
The immediate rising of pieces of wood to the surface of the water at once gave reason for fears that the injury was serious. There was a rush to the pumps. Water was pouring into the hold. Freycinet had sent for a sail, and had it passed under the vessel in such a manner that the pressure of the water forcing it into the leak in a measure stopped it up. But it was of no avail. Although the whole ship's company, officers and sailors alike, worked at the pumps, no more could be done than just keep the water from gaining on the vessel. There was nothing for it but to run her ashore. This decision, painful as it was, had to be carried out, and it was indeed no easy task. On every side the land was girded with rocks, and only at the very bottom of the bay was there a strip of sandy beach favourable for running the ship aground. Meanwhile the wind had become contrary, night was approaching, the vessel was already half full of water. The distress of the commander can be imagined. But there was no alternative, so the vessel was stranded on Penguin Island.
"This effected," to quote Freycinet, "the men were so exhausted that it was necessary to cease further work of every kind, and to allow the crew an interval of rest, all the more indispensable on account of the hardships and dangers which our present disastrous situation must entail upon all. As for myself, repose was out of the question. Tormented by a thousand harassing reflections, I could scarcely credit my own existence. The sudden transition from a position where all things seemed to smile on me, to that in which I found myself at that moment, weighed on my spirits like a horrible nightmare. It was difficult to regain the composure necessary to face fairly the painful trial. All my companions had done their duty in the frightful accident, which had all but lost us our lives, and I am glad to be able to do justice to their admirable conduct.
"As soon as daylight revealed the nature of the country, a mournful gloomy look settled upon every countenance. Not a tree, not so much as a blade of grass was to be seen, not a sound was to be heard, and the silent desolation around reminded us of the Bay of Sharks."
| Berkeley Sound, in the Falkland Islands. |
But there was no time to be lost in vain lamentations. Was the sea to be allowed to swallow up the journals and observations, the precious results of so much labour and so many hardships?
All the papers were saved. The same good fortune did not, unfortunately, attend the collections. Several cases of specimens which were at the bottom of the hold were entirely lost; others were damaged by the sea water. The collections that sustained the chief injury were those of natural history, and the herbarium that had been put together with infinite trouble by Gaudichaud. The merino sheep, generously presented to the expedition by Mr. MacArthur, of Sydney, which it was hoped could be acclimatized in France, were brought on shore, as also were all the animals still alive.