When we reached the latitude of the Crozets we began the regular cruising programme at once. We were far enough south to see ice occasionally, although it was a little late in the season for that; but the water was very cold, and the wind, almost without exception while we were in those waters, was very strong from the westward, blowing a gale about half the time. We had a good deal of fog. I did get sight of the Crozets once, distant, dark mountain peaks, cold and forbidding. We had about us, most of the time, an albatross or two, and gannets, boobies, petrels, and Cape pigeons in plenty. I suppose they must nest on the islands.
Sperm whales are not to be found in these latitudes, although right whales are.
We got no whales here; indeed, our actions led me to think that the captain did not expect any, or want any. He took no great pains, at any rate, and we quartered the grounds only once. Then we wore ship, and ran down to leeward. When we had reached the easterly limit of our cruising ground, we did not come about and beat up, as I expected, but continued to run to the eastward before a gale of wind, with alternations of fog and rain, three hundred miles farther, more or less. It was very disagreeable weather.
At last we found ourselves, one morning, in the midst of great numbers of birds, some in the air, and many others in the water: teals, giant petrels, gulls, terns, cormorants, Cape pigeons, and albatrosses; and an abundance of penguins. The cormorants and penguins were new to me. We knew, of course, that we must be very near to some land, but the weather was so thick that we could not see above half a mile. Sail was reduced, and we ran cautiously. We could feel the nearness of land. Even I could do that. About the middle of the day the fog lifted somewhat, and became a thick mist. Through it we saw the mass of Kerguelen, or Desolation Island, its peaks lost in the rolling clouds of fog. A little later we rounded a promontory, and entered a bay with many little islands dotted over it. Of course I compared the bay with Buzzard’s Bay, for that was my standard of comparison always, especially the part from New Bedford to Cuttyhunk. This bay seemed not very different in size, but the shores were as different from the shores of Buzzard’s Bay as they well could be. The land was steep and high and rugged, making the bay more like my idea of a Norwegian fiord, although I know the fiords of Norway only as my imagination pictures them. On that first day the land seemed to run right up without limit beyond the clouds, which hung low. There were days, later, when we saw the fields of perpetual snow on the summits of the mountains, and caught glimpses of the glaciers running down the valleys.
There was fresh water here in plenty, and some days were spent in filling our casks and in giving the men a run ashore. There was no danger of desertion, and absolutely no chance of harm of the sort usually connected with shore liberty. Indeed, it was funny to see how afraid the men were that the ship would sail without them. They went about in clumps, and Smith attached himself closely to Peter and me. It was good to feel solid earth under our feet once more.
We saw here some fur seals in the water, and a very few sea-elephants, which had been left behind by the herd in its southward migration a short time before, much as an occasional robin is left in the north, into November or even December. The sea-elephant is a strange beast. It has a snout somewhat prolonged, and as flexible as an elephant’s, but this snout or trunk is short, about the length of a tapir’s, I should guess. I never measured a sea-elephant, but I should think they were from ten to twenty feet long, and that they weighed from one to three tons, the bulls being larger than the cows. They look much like huge leather water-bottles, filled to bursting with water, and dumped on the ground by tired porters.
As we saw them there, they were lying on the grass-covered slopes, between the rocks. When we came too near, the beast would raise its head, wrinkle its nose, contract its proboscis until it lay flat on its face, and open its disgusting mouth, emitting what probably passed, among sea-elephants, for a growl or a hiss. As I remember them, the lower lip was very full and split, and they had a way of thrusting it forward, as if pouting. I may be wrong, for it is a long time to remember such details, and I was not engaged in a scientific investigation. I am sure only that the expression of their faces was very disgusting and expressed the most utter disgust. No doubt it represented rage or alarm, perhaps both. When we advanced cautiously nearer still, the beast would bestir itself, rise up on its flippers, and go lumbering off with astonishing speed.
After one of these excursions, as Peter and Smith and I were approaching the shore where our boat lay, we saw a party of our men coming out of a ravine loaded to the gunwales with some sort of a plant.
“What ’s that they ’ve got?” asked Smith.
“It ’s likely to be Kerguelen cabbage,” Peter answered.