The Island of St. Lawrence is 64° north latitude and 122° 55' east of Tobolsk.
The Island of Diomede is 66° north latitude and 125° 42' east of Tobolsk.
The turning point, 67° 18' north latitude and 126° 7' east of Tobolsk.
Hence, Serdze Kamen (67° 3' north latitude and 188° 11' east of Greenwich), as Berch[27] expressly remarks, must have lain more than four degrees west of the turning point. That this must have been so appears also from the course of the vessel on its return, west southwest, which would have been impossible, if the Gabriel had been near the north coast, intending to return through the strait. Among recent writers, Von Baer[28] alone critically calls attention to these facts, without, however, thoroughly investigating the case. This I shall now attempt to do.
The name Serdze Kamen appears for the first time—historically speaking—in Gerhard Fr. Müller's Sammlung Russischer Geschichte, Vol. III., 1758.[29] He says: "Bering finally, in a latitude of 67° 18', reached a headland whence the coast recedes to the west. From this the captain drew the very plausible conclusion that he now had reached the most northeasterly point of Asia. But here we are forced to admit that the circumstance upon which the captain based his conclusion was false, as it has since been learned that the above-mentioned headland was identical with the one called Serdze Kamen by the inhabitants of Fort Anadyr, on account of the promontory being heart-shaped." Even this looks suspicious. The account of some ignorant Cossacks is presented as a corrective to the report of educated navigators, and it is also indicated that the garrison at Fort Anadyr had exact knowledge of the northern coast of the Chukchee peninsula, something it did not have at all.[30]
But in order to understand Müller, it is necessary to make a slight digression. When Bering, in the summer of 1729, was on his return to St. Petersburg, he met, between Okhotsk and Yakutsk, the Cossack chief Shestakoff, who by the aid of Bering's ships intended to undertake an extensive military expedition in the eastern seas. He soon fell, however, in an engagement, but his comrade Captain Pavlutski led an invasion into the land of the Chukchees. From Fort Anadyr he went northward to the Arctic Ocean, thence along the coast toward the east, then across the Chukchee peninsula to the Pacific. A more detailed account than this cannot be given, for his route as indicated on Müller's map is an impossible one. This much, however, seems to be irrefutable: shortly after having crossed the Chukchee peninsula in a southerly direction, he came to a sea, and this sea could be no other than Bering Sea.[31] Moreover, it appears from the account, that he was on his return to the fort. Müller goes on to say: "From here he sent a part of his men in boats, whither he himself with the majority of the party proceeded by land, following the shore, which at this place extended toward the southeast. Those in boats were so near the shore that they reported to him every evening. On the seventh day, the party in boats came to the mouth of a river, and twelve days later, to the mouth of another. At about seven miles from this point there extends eastward far into the sea a headland, which is first mountainous, but then flat, as far as the eye can reach. This headland is probably what induced Captain Bering to turn back. Among the mountains on this promontory there is one which, as already noted, is by the natives of Anadyrskoi Ostrog called Serdze Kamen. From here Pavlutski started for the interior." On this loose reasoning rests Serdze Kamen,—a process of reasoning which attempts to show clearly that this headland must be a point on the Pacific coast, and that it must have lain many days' journey west of Bering Strait. But how is it possible, that Müller could have been so confused as to make such strange blunders? The case could not thus have presented itself to him. On the basis of Deshneff's journey and Pavlutski's cruise, he formed in his imagination a picture of northeastern Siberia, in which the Chukchee peninsula assumed a double horned shape, or—as Von Baer expresses it—resembled a bull's horn.
He used Bering's chart as a foundation when he had no other, but he omitted Cape Chukotskoi, and on the 66th parallel he inserted Serdze Kamen. From this point he made the coast recede, first westward, then northward and eastward to a large circular peninsula situated between 72°-75° north latitude, which he called Chukotskoi Noss. It is this imaginary peninsula which Pavlutski crosses. He accordingly reaches the Pacific coast to the north of Bering Strait, and in this way Müller succeeds in locating Serdze Kamen north of the strait. Hence, according to Müller's opinion, Bering had never doubled the northeastern corner of Asia, and he had never been out of the Pacific. "And although the coast beyond Serdze Kamen," he says, "turns westward, it forms only a large bay, and the coast-line again takes a northerly direction to Chukotskoi Noss, a large peninsula in a latitude of 70° or more, and where it would first be possible to say authoritatively that the two hemispheres were not connected. But how could all this have been known on the ship? The correct idea of the shape of the land of the Chukchees and the peninsula bearing the same name, is due to geographical investigations instituted by me at Yakutsk in 1736 and 1737."
Blinded by the archival dust of Yakutsk, Müller confused everything. Cape Chukotskoi, which Bering had found to be in latitude 64° 18' N., was placed beyond 72° N.; Bering's most northerly point, which lay far out in the sea, was changed to a headland in latitude 66° N., and, misled by some vague reports from the garrison at Fort Anadyr, he called this point Serdze Kamen. Everything is guess-work!
But where did Müller get his Serdze Kamen, and what place was it that the garrison at Fort Anadyr called by this name? For of the extreme northeast part of the peninsula, or the details of Bering's voyage—especially as early as in 1730—they could have had no knowledge. The explanation is not difficult. On Russian maps of the last century, those of Pallas and Billings, for example,[32] there is found on the eastern shore of St. Kresta Bay, somewhat northeast of the mouth of the Anadyr, a cape which bears the name of Serdze Kamen. As Bering does not have this name, and as it seems to have been known as early as at the time of Pavlutski, it must have originated either with him and the Cossacks at the fort, or with the Chukchees. Sauer relates the following concerning the origin of the name: "Serdze Kamen is a very remarkable mountain projecting into the bay at Anadyr. The land side of this mountain has many caves, to which the Chukchees fled when Pavlutski attacked them, and from where they killed a large number of Russians as they passed. Pavlutski was consequently obliged to seek reinforcements at Anadyr, where he told that the Chukchees shot his men from the heart of the cliff, and hence it received the name of Serdze Kamen, or the heart-cliff." But this account, which finds no authority whatever in Sauer's work, is severely criticised by Lütke, who calls attention to the fact that the Chukchees called a mountain on the eastern shore of the St. Kresta Bay Linglin Gaï, that is, the heart-cliff. It is quite improbable that they got this name from the Cossacks in Anadyrsk, and hence we here undoubtedly have the origin of the name.[33]