In the afternoon of the 10th, we got under the lee of the island, and kept ranging along its coast at the distance of about two miles, in order to look out for the proper anchorage, which was described to be in a bay on its north side. Being now so near the shore, we could perceive that the broken craggy precipices, which had appeared so very unpromising from a distance, were far from barren, being in most places covered by woods; and that there were every where the finest vallies interspersed between them, cloathed with a most beautiful verdure, and watered by numerous streams and cascades, every valley of any extent being provided with its own rill; and we afterwards found that the water was constantly clear, and not inferior to any we had ever met with. The aspect of a country thus beautifully diversified would at any time have been extremely delightful; but, in our distressed situation, languishing as we were for the land and its vegetable productions, an indication constantly attending every stage of the sea-scurvy, it is scarcely credible with what eagerness and transport we viewed the shore, and with how much impatience we longed for the greens and other refreshments which were in sight. We were particularly anxious for the water, as we had been confined to a very sparing allowance for a considerable time, and had then only five tons remaining on board. Those only who have endured a long series of thirst, and who can readily recall the desire and agitation which even the ideas alone of springs and brooks have at that time raised in their minds, can judge of the emotion with which we viewed a large cascade of the purest water, which poured into the sea at a short distance from the ship, from a rock near a hundred feet high. Even those of the sick who were not in the very last stage of the distemper, though they had been long confined to their hammocks, exerted their small remains of strength, and crawled up to the deck, to feast their eyes with this reviving prospect.
We thus coasted along the island, fully occupied in contemplating this enchanting landscape, which still improved as we proceeded. But at last the night closed upon us, before we could determine upon the proper bay in which to anchor. It was resolved, therefore, to keep in soundings all night, having then from sixty-four to seventy fathoms, and to send our boat next morning to discover the road. The current shifted, however, in the night, and set us so near the land that we were obliged to let go our best bower in fifty-six fathoms, not half a mile from shore. At four next morning, the cutter was dispatched, under our third-lieutenant, to find out the bay of which we were in search. The boat returned at noon, full of seals and grass; for though the island abounded with better vegetables, the boat's crew, during their short stay, had not met any other, and thought even this would be acceptable as a dainty, and indeed it was all speedily and eagerly devoured. The seals, too, were considered as fresh provision, but were not much admired, though they afterwards came into more repute; but we had taken a prodigious quantity of excellent fish during the absence of the boat, which rendered the seals less valuable at this time.
The cutter had discovered the bay in which we intended to anchor, which was to the westward of our present station; and next morning, the weather proving favourable, we endeavoured to weigh, in order to proceed thither, mustering all the strength we could, obliging even the sick, who could hardly stand on their legs, to assist; yet the capstan was so weakly manned, that it was near four hours before we could heave the cable right up and down: after which, with our utmost efforts, though with many surges and some additional purchases to increase our strength, we found it utterly impossible to start the anchor out of the ground. At noon, however, as a fresh gale blew towards the bay, we were induced to set the sails, which fortunately tripped the anchor. We then steered along shore, till we came abreast of the point forming the eastern part of the bay: But on opening the bay, the wind, which had hitherto favoured us, chanced to shift, and blew from the bay in squalls; yet, by means of the head-way we had got, we luffed close in, till the anchor, which still hung at our bow, brought us up in fifty-six fathoms.
Soon after we had thus got to anchor in the mouth of the bay, we discovered a sail making toward us, which we had no doubt was one of our squadron, and which, on a nearer approach, we found to be the Tryal sloop; whereupon, we immediately dispatched some of our hands to her assistance, by whose means she was brought to anchor between us and the land. We soon learnt that she had by no means been exempted from the same calamities by which we had been so severely afflicted; for Captain Saunders, her commander, waiting on the commodore, informed him, that he had buried thirty-four men out of his small complement, and those that remained alive were so universally afflicted with the scurvy, that only himself, his lieutenant, and three of the men were able to stand by the sails.
It was on the 12th about noon that the Tryal came to anchor within us, when we carried our hawsers on board her, in order to warp our ship nearer the shore; but the wind coming off the land in violent gusts, prevented our mooring in the intended birth. Indeed our principal attention was now devoted to a business of rather more importance, as we were now anxiously employed in sending on shore materials to erect tents for the reception of the sick, who died rapidly on board. Doubtless the distemper was considerably augmented by the stench and filthiness in which they lay; for the number of the sick was so great, and so few of them could be spared from the necessary duty of the sails to look after them, that it was impossible to avoid a great relaxation in regard to cleanliness, so that the ship was extremely loathsome between decks. Notwithstanding our desire to free the sick from their present hateful situation, and their own extreme eagerness to get on shore, we had not hands enough to prepare the tents for their reception sooner than the 16th; but on that and the two following days we got them all on shore, to the number of an hundred and sixty-seven persons, besides twelve or fourteen who died in the boats on being exposed to the fresh air. The greatest part of our sick were so infirm, that we had to carry them out of the ship in their hammocks, and to convey them afterwards in the same manner from the water-side to the tents, over a stony beach. This was a work of considerable fatigue to the few who remained healthy; and therefore our commodore, according to his accustomed humanity, not only assisted in this himself, but obliged all his officers to give their helping-hand.
The extreme weakness of our sick may be collected, in some measure, from the numbers that died after they got on shore. It has generally been found that the land, and the refreshments it affords, very soon produce recovery in most stages of the scurvy, and we flattered ourselves that those who had not perished on their first exposure to the open air, but had lived to be placed in the tents, would have been speedily restored to health and vigour. Yet to our great mortification, it was nearly twenty days after they landed, before the mortality entirely ceased, and for the first ten or twelve days we rarely buried less than six each day, and many of those who survived recovered by very slow and insensible degrees. Those, indeed, who had sufficient strength, at their first getting on shore, to creep out of the tents, and to crawl about, were soon relieved, and speedily recovered their health and strength: But, in the rest, the disease seemed to have attained a degree of inveteracy altogether without example.
Before proceeding to any farther detail of our proceeding, I think it necessary to give a distinct account of this island of Juan Fernandez, including its situation, productions, and conveniences. We were well enabled to be minutely instructed in these particulars, during our three months stay at this island; and its advantages will merit a circumstantial description, as it is the only commodious place in these seas, where British cruizers can refresh and recover their men, after passing round Caps Horn, and where they may remain for some time without alarming the Spanish coast. Commodore Anson, indeed, was particularly industrious, in directing the roads and coasts of this island to be surveyed, and other observations of all kinds to be made; knowing, from his own experience, of how great benefit these materials might prove hereafter, to any British cruizers in these seas. For the uncertainty we were in of its position, and our standing in for the main on the 28th May, as formerly related, cost us the lives of between seventy and eighty of our men; from which fatal loss we might have been saved, had we possessed such an account of its situation as we could have fully depended upon.
The island of Juan Fernandez is in lat. 33° 40'S. [long. 77° 30' W.] one hundred marine leagues or five degrees of longitude from the continent of Chili. It is said to have received its name from a Spaniard who formerly procured a grant of it, and resided there for some time with the view of forming a settlement, but abandoned it afterwards.[1] On approaching its northern side from the east, it appears a large congeries of lofty peaked mountains, the shore in most places being composed of high precipitous rocks, presenting three several bays, East bay, Cumberland bay, and West bay, the second only being of any extent, and is by far the best, in which we moored. The island itself is of an irregular triangular figure; one side of which, facing the N.E. contains these three bays. Its greatest extent is between four and five leagues, and its greatest breadth something less than two. The only safe anchorage is on the N.E. side, where, as already mentioned, are the three bays; the middlemost of which, named Cumberland bay, is the widest and deepest, and in all respects by much the best; for the other two, named East and West bays, are scarcely more than good landing places, where boats may conveniently put casks on shore for water. Cumberland bay is well secured to the southward, and is only exposed from the N. by W. to the E. by S. and as the northerly winds seldom blow in that climate, and never with any violence, the danger from that quarter is not worth attending to. This last-mentioned bay is by far the most commodious road in the island, and it is advisable for all ships to anchor on its western side, within little more than two cables length of the beach, where they may ride in forty fathoms, and be sheltered, in a great measure, from a large heavy sea which comes rolling in, whenever the wind blows from eastern or western quarters. It is expedient, however, to cackle or arm the cables with an iron chain, or with good rounding, for five or six fathoms from the anchor, to secure them from being rubbed by the foulness of the ground.[2]
I have already observed that a northerly wind, to which alone this bay is directly exposed, very seldom blew while we were there; and, as it was then winter, such may be supposed less frequent in other seasons. In those few instances when the wind was in that quarter, it did not blow with any great force, which might be owing to the high lands, south of the bay, giving a check to its force; for we had reason to believe that it blew with considerable force a few leagues out at sea, since it sometimes drove a prodigious sea before it into the bay, during which we rode forecastle in. Though the northerly winds are never to be apprehended in this bay, yet the southerly winds, which generally prevail here, frequently blow off the land in violent gusts and squalls, which seldom lasted, however, longer than two or three minutes. This seems to be owing to the high hills, in the neighbourhood of the bay, obstructing the southern gale; as the wind, collected by this means, at last forces its passage through the narrow vallies; which, like so many funnels, both facilitate its escape, and increase its violence. These frequent and sudden guests make it difficult for a ship to work in with the wind offshore, or to keep a clear hawse, when anchored.
The northern part of this island is composed of high craggy hills, many of them inaccessible, though generally covered with trees. The soil of this part is loose and shallow, so that very large trees in the hills frequently perish for want of root, and are then easily overturned. This circumstance occasioned the death of one of our men, who, being on the hills in search of goats, caught hold of a tree upon a declivity to assist him in his ascent, and this giving way, he rolled down the hill; and though, in his fall, he fastened on another tree of considerable bulk, this also gave way, and he fell among the rocks, where he was dashed to pieces. Mr Brett, also, having rested his back against a tree, near as large about as himself, which grew on a slope, it gave way with him, and he fell to a considerable distance, though without receiving any injury. Our prisoners, whom, as will appear in the sequel, we afterwards brought to this island, remarked that the appearance of the hills in some parts resembled that of the mountains in Chili where gold is found; so that it is not impossible that mines might be discovered here. In some places we observed several hills of a peculiar red earth, exceeding vermillion in colour, which perhaps, on examination, might prove useful for many purposes. The southern, or rather S.W. part of the island, is widely different from the rest; being destitute of trees, dry, stony, and very flat and low, compared, with the hills on the northern part. This part of the island is never frequented by ships, being surrounded by a steep shore, and having little or no fresh water; besides which, it is exposed to the southerly winds, which generally blow here the whole year round, and with great violence in the antarctic winter.