CHAPTER I
THE START
Why we went to Easter Island—The Building and Equipping of the Yacht—The Start from Southampton—Dartmouth—Falmouth.
“All the seashore is lined with numbers of stone idols, with their backs turned towards the sea, which caused us no little wonder, because we saw no tool of any kind for working these figures.” So wrote, a century and a half ago, one of the earliest navigators to visit the Island of Easter in the South-east Pacific. Ever since that day passing ships have found it incomprehensible that a few hundred natives should have been able to make, move, and erect numbers of great stone monuments, some of which are over thirty feet in height; they have marvelled and passed on. As the world’s traffic has increased Easter Island has still stood outside its routes, quiet and remote, with its story undeciphered. What were these statues of which the present inhabitants know nothing? Were they made by their ancestors in forgotten times or by an earlier race? Whence came the people who reached this remote spot? Did they arrive from South America, 2,000 miles to the eastward? Or did they sail against the prevailing wind from the distant islands to the west? It has even been conjectured that Easter Island is all that remains of a sunken continent. Fifty years ago the problem was increased by the discovery on this mysterious land of wooden tablets bearing an unknown script; they too have refused to yield their secret.
When, therefore, we decided to see the Pacific before we died, and asked the anthropological authorities at the British Museum what work there remained to be done, the answer was, “Easter Island.” It was a much larger undertaking than had been contemplated; we had doubts of our capacity for so important a venture; and at first the decision was against it, but we hesitated and were lost. Then followed the problem how to reach the goal. The island belongs to Chile, and the only regular communication, if regular it can be called, was a small sailing vessel sent out by the Chilean Company, who use the island as a ranch; she went sometimes once a year, sometimes not so often, and only remained there sufficient time to bring off the wool crop. We felt that the work on Easter ought to be accompanied with the possibility of following up clues elsewhere in the islands, and that to charter any such vessel as could be obtained on the Pacific coast, for the length of time we required her, would be unsatisfactory, both from the pecuniary standpoint and from that of comfort. It was therefore decided, as Scoresby is a keen yachtsman, that it was worth while to procure in England a little ship of our own, adapted to the purpose, and to sail out in her. As the Panama Canal was not open, and the route by Suez would be longer, the way would lie through the Magellan Straits.
Search for a suitable vessel in England was fruitless, and it became clear that to get what we wanted we must build. The question of general size and arrangement had first to be settled, and then matters of detail. It is unfortunate that the precise knowledge which was acquired of the exact number of inches necessary to sleep on, to sit on, and to walk along is not again likely to be useful. The winter of 1910–11 was spent over this work, but the professional assistance obtained proved to be incompetent, and we had to begin again; the final architect of the little yacht was Mr. Charles Nicholson, of Gosport, and the plans were completed the following summer. They were for a vessel of schooner rig and auxiliary motor power. The length over all was 90 feet, and the water-line 72 feet; her beam was 20 feet. The gross tonnage was 91 and the yacht tonnage was 126.
The vessel was designed in four compartments, with a steel bulkhead between each of the divisions, so that in case of accident it would be possible to keep her afloat. Aft was the little chart-room, which was the pride of the ship. When we went on board magnificent yachts which could have carried our little vessel as a lifeboat, and found the navigation being done in the public rooms, we smiled with superiority. Out of the chart-room were the navigator’s sleeping quarters, and in the overhang of the stern the sail-locker. The next compartment was given to the engines, and made into a galvanised iron box in case of fire. It contained a motor engine for such work as navigation in and out of harbour and traversing belts of calm. This was of 38 h.p. and run on paraffin, as petrol was disallowed by the insurance; it gave her 5½ knots. In the same compartment was the engine for the electric light: in addition the yacht had steam heating. The spaces between the walls of the engine-box and those of the ship were given to lamps, and to boatswain’s stores.
Then came the centre of the ship, containing the quarters of our scientific party. The middle portion of this was raised three or four feet for the whole length, securing first a deck-house and then a heightened roof for the saloon below, an arrangement which was particularly advantageous, as no port-holes were allowed below decks, leaving us dependent on skylights and ventilators. Entering from without, two or three steps led down into the deck-house, which formed part of the saloon, but at a higher level; it was my chief resort throughout the voyage. On each side was a settee, which was on the level of the deck, and thus commanded a view through port-holes and door of what was passing outside; one of these settees served as a berth in hot weather. A small companion connected the deck-house with the saloon below: the latter ran across the width of the ship; it also had full-length settees both sides, and at the end of each was a chiffonier. On the port side was the dinner-table, which swung so beautifully that the fiddles were seldom used, and the thermos for the navigating officer could be left happily on it all night. Starboard was a smaller table, fitted for writing; and a long bookshelf ran along the top of the for’ardside (fig. 1A).
On the afterside of the saloon a double cabin opened out of it, and a passage led to two single cabins and the bathroom. The cabins were rather larger than the ordinary staterooms of a mail steamer, and the arrangements of course more ample; every available cranny was utilised for drawers and lockers, and in going ashore it was positive pain to see the waste of room under beds and sofas and behind washing-stands. My personal accommodation was a chest of drawers and hanging wardrobe, besides the drawers under the berth and various lockers. Returning to the saloon, a door for’ard opened into the pantry, which communicated with the galley above, situated on deck for the sake of coolness. For’ard again was a whole section given to stores, and beyond, in the bows, a roomy forecastle. The yacht had three boats—a lifeboat which contained a small motor engine, a cutter, and a dinghy; when we were at sea the two former were placed on deck, but the dinghy, except on one occasion only, was always carried in the davits, where she triumphantly survived all eventualities, a visible witness to the buoyancy of the ship.
While the plans were being completed, search was being made for a place where the vessel should be built; for though nominally a yacht, the finish and build of the Solent would have been out of place. It had been decided that she should be of wood, as easier to repair in case of accident where coral reefs and other unseen dangers abound; but the building of wooden ships is nearly extinct. The west country was visited, and an expedition made to Dundee and Aberdeen, but even there, the old home of whalers, ships are now built of steel; finally we fixed on Whitstable, from which place such vessels still ply round the coast. The keel was laid in the autumn of 1911; the following spring we took up our abode there to watch over her, and there in May 1912 she first took the water, being christened by the writer in approved fashion. “I name this ship Mana, and may the blessing of God go with her and all who sail in her”—a ceremony not to be performed without a lump in the throat. The choice of a name had been difficult; we had wished to give her one borne by some ship of Dr. Scoresby, the Arctic explorer, a friend of my husband’s family whose name he received, but none of them proved to be suitable. The object was to find something which was both simple and uncommon; all appellations that were easy to grasp seemed to have been already adopted, while those that were unique lent themselves to error. “How would it do in a cable?” was the regulation test. Finally we hit on Mana, which is a word well known to anthropologists, and has the advantage of being familiar throughout the South Seas. We generally translated it somewhat freely as “good luck.” It means, more strictly, supernatural power: a Polynesian would, for instance, describe the common idea of the effect of a horseshoe by saying that the shoe had “mana.” From a scientific standpoint mana is probably the simplest form of religious conception. The yacht flew the burgee of the Royal Cruising Club.
