The next place of call was the Cape Verde Islands and on the last day of September the two ships dropped anchor in the harbour of St. Vincent. Here they wooded and watered, and their casks, which had been oil casks, were hauled ashore, burnt and cleaned—the water in them having “stunk insufferably.” By bartering with the inhabitants they were also able to obtain fresh provisions in the shape of “Cattel, Goats, Hogs, Fowls, Melons, Potatoes, Limes, Brandy, Tobacco, Indian Corn, etc.” Here Rogers had the misfortune to lose one of his crew, Joseph Alexander “a good linguist,” who had been sent ashore with a respectful letter to the Governor. This man seems to have found life more attractive on the island than the uncertainties and hardships of life aboard a privateer. After waiting a week for him Rogers reluctantly came to the conclusion that he had deserted, and “it was unanimously agreed, that we had better leave him behind, than to wait with two ships for one man that had not followed his orders.”
Rogers was extremely scrupulous in all his undertakings; everything relating to the proceedings of his squadron and the affairs of both officers and men was carefully recorded in his journal. On the eve of sailing from the Bay of St. Vincent a council was held on board the Dutchess “to prevent embezzlement in prizes, and to hinder feuds and disorders amongst our officers and men for the future.” An agreement was arrived at whereby each man was to have the following shares in the plunder. A sailor or landsman, £10; any officer below the Carpenter, £20; a Mate, Gunner, Boatswain, and Carpenter, £40; a Lieutenant or Master, £80; And the Captains £100 over and above the gratuity promised by the owners to such as shall signalise themselves.” It was also agreed that both Rogers and Courtney should have 5 per cent. over and above their respective shares, and that a reward of twenty pieces-of-eight would be given “to him that first sees a prize of good value, or exceeding 50 tons in burden.” This was signed by the officers and men of both ships on the 8th of October.
On the same day the ships weighed and steered for the coast of Brazil. By this time the men had found their sea legs and were more amenable to discipline, and only one act of insubordination is recorded on the voyage to Brazil.
The spiritual needs of the men were not neglected, and it is pleasing to note that from the 28th of October, when the ships crossed the line, “prayers were read in both ships, morning or evening, as opportunity would permit, according to the Church of England.[12] On the 19th of November they made the coast of Brazil, anchoring off the Island of Grande. The opportunity was now taken to replenish the water casks, and careen the ships. The depredations of the French corsairs had made the Brazilians suspicious of strangers, and Rogers states that his boat was fired on several times when trying to land “with a present for the Governor of Angre de Reys.” On learning that they were English, Rogers and his men were welcomed by the Friars and the Governor, who treated them “very handsomely.” Rogers’s account of a religious procession in which he and his men, assisted by the ships’ band, took part, is one of the most amusing episodes in his book. Another amusing incident was an attempt by two Irish sailors to desert, but they were so frightened by the monkeys and baboons in the woods, that they were glad to return to the ship. In the afternoon of December 3rd, the ships bade adieu to the hospitalities of the island of Grande, and commenced their long and arduous voyage to Juan Fernandez, a distance of nearly 6,000 miles.
A succession of gales now followed and on the 13th of December the Dutchess was forced to reef her mainsail for the first time since leaving England. In spite of “strong gales, with squalls from the south to the west,” when nearing Cape Horn, the new year was fitly ushered in. According to the custom of the sea there was “a large tub of punch hot upon the Quarter Deck, where every man in the ship had above a pint to his share, and drank our owners and our friends healths in Great Britain.” After which, Rogers records, “we bore down to our Consort, and gave him three Huzza’s, wishing them the like.” In anticipation of the excessive cold in “going about Cape Horn” six tailors were hard at work for several weeks making warm clothing for the men, and every officer handed over such items as he could spare from his own kit. The actual passage of the Horn is vividly described by Rogers, and although the Dutchess was for some hours in considerable danger, good seamanship brought her and her consort safely through. Having got as far south as latitude 61°53´, “the furthest for aught we know that anyone as yet has been to Southward, we now account ourselves in the South Sea,” says Rogers.
In fact Dampier as pilot had carried them so far south that many of the men in both ships were nearly frozen to death, and some were down with the scurvy. The pressing need was to find a harbour in order that the sick might be recruited ashore, and for this purpose the Island of Juan Fernandez was decided upon. Unfortunately all the charts differed, and for a time grave doubts were entertained of “striking it.” Thanks to the skill of Dampier, who had been there before, the island was sighted on the last day of January, but by that time they had slightly overshot it, for it bore “W.S.W. distant about 7 leagues.”[13] With this famous landfall lay not only the destinies of the crews of the Duke and Dutchess, but also of the solitary inhabitant of the island who was anxiously scanning the horizon.
That same afternoon the pinnace was hoisted out and a boat’s crew under the command of Dover went in her to go ashore. When the pinnace was about a league from the island, it being then nightfall, Rogers, from the deck of the Duke, suddenly saw a light blaze up from the shore. The pinnace immediately made haste to return, and believing that a French squadron was lying at anchor, Rogers ordered the decks to be cleared for action. At daybreak on the following day the ships stood in to engage, but not a single sail was to be seen. A yawl, with two officers and six men all armed, was sent forward to reconnoitre, and as it neared the shore a man “clothed in goat-skins” was seen gesticulating wildly to them. This was Alexander Selkirk, late master of the Cinque Ports, who through some quarrel with his captain had been on the island four years and four months. This was the first time that an English ship had called at the island since, and his joy at seeing the English flag again and hearing the voices of his own countryman can better be imagined than described. Though his actions reflected his gratitude, his speech “for want of use” failed him, “he seemed to speak his words by halves.” His adventures and privations are vividly described by Rogers, and it is not proposed to dwell on them here. Suffice it to say that Selkirk’s story was first communicated to the world in the pages of Woodes Rogers’s “Cruising Voyage,” and that his adventures formed the basis of the romance of Robinson Crusoe.[14]
Two days after their arrival at the island all was bustle and excitement. A ship’s forge was set up ashore; sail-makers were busy repairing the sails; coopers were hard at work on the casks; and tents were pitched to receive the sick men. In the words of Rogers “we have a little town of our own here, and every body is employed.” The time was indeed precious, for while at the Canaries they had heard that five large French ships were coming to search for them, and Rogers was anxious to get away as soon as possible. Thanks to the “goodness of the air” and the “help of the greens,” and to the fact that the “Governour,” as Rogers dubbed Selkirk, caught two or three goats every day for them, the crew soon recovered from their distemper, and only two died. The ships were quickly wooded and watered, and about eighty gallons of sea-lions’ oil was boiled down to be used as oil for the lamps in order to save the candles. By the 12th of February the sick men were re-embarked, and two days later the little squadron weighed with “a fair pleasant gale,” with Selkirk duly installed as second mate of the Duke. The voyage was continued to the northward off the coasts of Chile and Peru with the intention of getting across the track of the great Spanish galleons from Manila to Acapulco. On the 16th of March they captured a little vessel of about 16 tons belonging to Payta, and on the following day arrived with their prize at the Island of Lobos. Here it was resolved to fit out the prize as a privateer, “she being well built for sailing.” This was carried out with the greatest expedition, and with a crew of 32 men and four swivel guns, she was renamed the Beginning and placed under the command of Captain Cooke.
While the Duke was being cleaned and tallowed, the Beginning in company with the Dutchess was sent a-cruising, and on the morning of the 26th they captured another Spanish vessel. Among other things they found a store of tobacco on board, a very welcome article which was distributed among the men. After being cleaned and refitted she was christened the Increase and Selkirk was appointed to command her. The ships continued cruising on this station till the 5th of April, and among other prizes they took the Spanish galleon Ascension of 500 tons, bound from Panama to Lima.
So far the financial results of the expedition had been disappointing, but spurred on by the glowing accounts given by their prisoners of richly laden ships that were expected with the “widow of the Viceroy of Peru with her family and riches,” and the wealth of the Spanish South American cities, they resolved to attack the city of Guiaquil, and exact a ransom. This resolution was arrived at on the morning of April 12th and a council was held on board the Duke to discuss the project, when regulations were drawn up regarding the landing parties and other details. In order that his “mixed gang of most European nations,” should have “good discipline” and “needful encouragement,” minute regulations were drawn up by Rogers and his officers concerning what was to be termed plunder. Although everything portable seems to have been considered as such, it is amusing to learn that Rogers with his customary civility to the fair sex, resolved “that money and women’s ear-rings, with loose diamonds, pearls, and precious stones” should “be excepted.” The plunder of Guiaquil being thus comfortably and amicably arranged beforehand, the ships headed for the Island of Puna, at the entrance to Guiaquil River.