In accordance with the plan adopted, they here veered to the northwest to seek the mainland for the purpose of determining its trend. On the night of August 1 (and 2), they suddenly approached land, having only four fathoms of water below the keel. There was a heavy fog, no wind, and a swift current, but they succeeded in shifting about and getting out into eighteen fathoms of water, where they anchored to await daybreak. In the morning, at eight o'clock, a small island was seen at a distance of four miles. It was three miles long, with an east to west trend. A long reef extended out into the sea from the eastern point, seen by them in a direction E. S. E. by E. In the evening they weighed anchor, having a heavy fog, and on the next morning, the island was seen at a distance of seven geographical miles toward the south. Its latitude was calculated as 55° 32', but as all of Bering's determinations of latitude on his return voyage from America show an error of from 30' to 45' less than the true latitude, it must be concluded that the island was in latitude 56° and some minutes. He called the island St. Stephen from the calendar day, but his crew or lieutenants must have called it Foggy Island (Tumannoi), as even Krasilnikoff's manuscript map, in the possession of the Admiralty, has this name. Later the cartography of this region became considerably confused. The name St. Stephen disappeared. Cook called another island Fog Island, while it became customary to consider the island discovered by Bering as identical with Ukamok (Chirikoff Island, Vancouver's Island), where the Russians had a colony, and thus the island itself was finally lost to geography. Notwithstanding the fact that Admiral Krusenstern, in a clever essay, has given an able review of the literature pertaining to this question, and has shown that where Bering saw St. Stephen, Cook, Sarycheff, and Vancouver likewise saw an island, different from Ukamok, and regardless of the fact that for these reasons he restored St. Stephen on his map, Lieutenant Sokoloff, who most recently, in Russian literature, has treated Bering's voyage to America, has wholly disregarded Krusenstern's essay, and says that St. Stephen is identical with Ukamok. Sokoloff's essay is very superficial, and, compared with Krusenstern's weighty reasons, is based on mere supposition. But, although the map of the North Pacific, in the Russian Admiralty (1844), has a Tumannoi Island (that is, Foggy Island, St. Stephen) somewhat northeast of Ukamok, it must be admitted that, until the United States undertakes a new and careful survey of the Aliaska peninsula and its southern surroundings, this question can not be thoroughly decided, probable as it may be that Bering and Krusenstern are both right.
August 3, the voyage was continued toward the northwest. In a latitude of 56° (according to Steller) they saw the high snow-capped mountain peaks of the Aliaska peninsula in a direction N. N. W. by W., but on account of stormy and foggy weather they sought, with an easterly wind, to get back into their main course. Thus they reached, August 4, the Jefdokjejefski Islands in a direction S. S. E. ¾ by E., at a distance of twenty miles from 55° 45' N. These form a group of seven high and rocky islands, which on Russian maps still bears the same name, but in West Europe this name has been displaced, and they are usually called the Semidi, or Semidin, Islands, the name of the largest of the group.
On August 7, they found themselves south of the Jefdokjejefski Islands. But now misfortunes began to pour in upon them. They encountered adverse winds which continued with but few interruptions during the succeeding months. The St. Peter was tossed about on the turbulent and unfamiliar waters of the Aleutian archipelago, where the crew experienced an adventure so fraught with suffering and dire events that it is quite beyond compare in the history of discoveries. At the same time, the scurvy got the upper hand. Bering had a severe attack which rendered him unfit for service. With his illness the bonds of discipline were relaxed. Under these circumstances there was called, on the 10th of August, an extraordinary council, in which all the officers participated. At this meeting it was finally decided to give up the charting of the American coast, and immediately start out upon the direct route homeward on parallel 52°, the latitude of Avacha. The whole crew, from the highest to the lowest, signed this resolution. The facts taken into consideration were that September had been fixed as the extreme limit of time within which to return home, and that they were then in the middle of August. Avacha was at least 1600 miles distant, autumn was at hand with dark nights and stormy weather, and sixteen of the crew were already sick with the scurvy.
With a strong head-wind, in raw and foggy weather, and now and then overtaken by fierce storms, they worked their way slowly along until the 27th of August. The condition of affairs on board had grown continually worse, when it was finally announced that through carelessness and irregularity the supply of water had been reduced to twenty-five casks, a quantity that could not possibly suffice for the 1200 miles which, according to their calculations, yet remained. Hence it was necessary once more to find land to take in water, and on the 27th the St. Peter's prow was again headed for Aliaska. They sailed north one degree and a half, and after a lapse of three days they reached a multitude of high islands, behind which the coast of the mainland arose in the distance.
August 30, the St. Peter lay at anchor off the Shumagins, a group of thirteen treeless, barren, and rocky islands near the coast of Aliaska. The journal gives their situation as latitude 54° 48' N. and longitude 35° 30' E. from Avacha. While the latitude as here determined has the usual error, referred to several times before, the longitude has an error of 6½°. Among these islands the first death on board occurred. It was the sailor Shumagin, who, on the 30th, died in the hands of his mates as they were taking him ashore. The islands were named in honor of him. On the whole the situation was most deplorable. Bering had fallen away so much in his illness that he could not stand, and the others that were sick were carried ashore, and lay scattered along the coast, giving this a very sad and sorrowful aspect. Confusion and uncertainty grew apace, as those in command could not maintain their authority. Waxel and Khitroff, the highest in command, bandied words, whereas the situation demanded firmness and vigor. The only one that preserved any manner of self-possession and forethought was Steller. He immediately went ashore, examined the vegetation of the island, and collected a large number of anti-scorbutic plants, especially scurvy-grass and berries, with which, in the course of a week, he succeeded in restoring Bering to sufficient strength to be able to use his limbs. Through the use of the same remedies the other sufferers were relieved. But Steller thought also of the future. The medicine chest contained "plasters and salves for half an army," but only extremely few real medicines, and hence he suggested to Lieut. Waxel, who was then in command, that he send a number of sailors ashore to gather anti-scorbutic plants, but this excellent and timely advice was rejected.
Furthermore, Steller used all his influence to procure good water. He went ashore with the sailors for this purpose, and as they began to dip water from the first pool they found, one, too, which was connected with the sea during high tide, he directed them to fresh springs a little farther in the interior, but the crew sent some samples on board, and from there came the report that the water was good enough. Thus it was that a new cause of disease—in spite of Steller's protestations—was added to all the others. The water was brackish, and on standing in the casks became unfit for use.
On the whole the stay at the Shumagins, which was unnecessarily prolonged, was very unfortunate. The St. Peter lay at anchor south of them in a very exposed position. On the evening of August 29, a fire was seen on one of the islands, and on this account, Khitroff wished to explore them more thoroughly, although Waxel firmly opposed releasing both of the ship's boats under the present dangerous circumstances. By applying to Bering, who was in the cabin, and hardly understood the situation, Khitroff had his way, and left the ship with the yawl and five men. He was gone four days, during which time the St. Peter was forced to lie at anchor, while a favorable east wind might have carried them several hundred miles toward home. The yawl was dashed to pieces off one of the neighboring islands, and no more came from the expedition than that Lieutenant Waxel, under great difficulty, found it necessary to rescue the six shipwrecked adventurers. Moreover, they experienced a somewhat uninteresting clash with the Innuit (Esquimo)[83] inhabitants of the Aliaska peninsula, of which Müller and Steller both give a detailed account.
FOOTNOTES:
[81] Note 62.