Narrative of the surveying voyages of His Majesty's ships Adventure and Beagle, between the years 1826 and 1836. Fitzroy Robert

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СКАЧАТЬ wind could not avoid the ship's going much too fast. While running about eight knots, a violent shock – a lift forward – heel over – and downward plunge – electrified every one; but before they could look round, she was scudding along, as before, having fairly leaped over the rock.

      It was afterwards found that a great part of the gripe and false keel were knocked away. Captain Stokes's account of this day's beat will give an idea of the difficulties which the Beagle's crew encountered, in working out of the Strait.

      January 31st. "The hands were turned up at daylight up anchor; but the heavy squalls that came off the high land of the harbour, rendered it too hazardous to weigh, until a temporary lull enabled us to make sail, and re-commence beating to the westward against a dead foul wind, much rain, hard squalls, and a turbulent cross sea.

      "The squalls became more frequent and more violent after noon; but they gave, in daylight, sufficient warning, being preceded by dark clouds gradually expanding upwards, until their upper line attained the altitude of about fifty degrees: then came heavy rain, and perhaps hail; immediately after followed the squall in all its fury, and generally lasted fifteen or twenty minutes.

      "In working to windward we frequently extended our 'boards' to the south shore (not without risk considering the state of the weather), with the hope of making out Tuesday Bay, or some anchorage thereabout; but the coast was covered with so thick a mist, that not a single point, mentioned by preceding navigators, could be recognised.

      "About seven in the evening we were assailed by a squall, which burst upon the ship with fury far surpassing all that preceded it; had not sail been shortened in time, not a stick would have been left standing, or she must have capsized. As it was, the squall hove her so much over on her broadside, that the boat which was hanging at the starboard quarter was washed away. I then stood over to the north shore, to look for anchorage under the lee of a cape, about three leagues to the north-west of Cape Tamar. On closing it, the weather became so thick that at times we could scarcely see two ships' lengths a-head.

      "These circumstances were not in favour of exploring unknown bays, and to think of passing such a night as was in prospect, under sail in the Straits, would have been a desperate risk; I was obliged therefore to yield the hard-gained advantage of this day's beat, and run for the anchorage whence we had started in the morning.

      "It was nearly dark ere we reached it; and in entering, desirous to keep well up to windward, in order to gain the best anchorage, I went too close to the outer islet, and the ship struck violently on a rocky ledge. However, she did not hang a moment, and was soon anchored in safety."

      Finding so much danger and difficulty, in proceeding with the ship, without first knowing where to run for anchorages, Captain Stokes left her in Tamar Bay, under the charge of Lieutenant Skyring; and, accompanied by Mr. Flinn, set out in the cutter, with a week's provisions, to examine the south coast.

      In a very arduous and dangerous cruize he discovered several well-sheltered anchorages, but experienced a "constant heavy gale from W.N.W., with thick weather and incessant drenching rain."

      Captain Stokes says, "Our discomfort in an open boat was very great, since we were all constantly wet to the skin. In trying to double the various headlands, we were repeatedly obliged (after hours of ineffectual struggle against sea and wind) to desist from useless labour, and take refuge in the nearest cove which lay to leeward."

      From the Harbour of Mercy, Captain Stokes attempted to cross the Strait, on his return to the Beagle; but the sea ran too high, and obliged him to defer his daring purpose until the weather was more favourable.

      During his absence, Lieutenant Skyring surveyed Tamar Bay and its vicinity.

      Again the Beagle weighed, and tried hard to make some progress to the westward, but was obliged a third time to return to Tamar Bay. After another delay she just reached Sholl Bay, under Cape Phillip, and remained there one day, to make a plan of the anchorage, and take observations to fix its position.

      The Beagle reached the Harbour of Mercy (Separation Harbour of Wallis and Carteret),63 after a thirty days' passage from Port Famine, on the 15th, having visited several anchorages on the south shore in her way. But tedious and harassing as her progress had been, the accounts of Byron, Wallis, Carteret, and Bougainville show that they found more difficulty, and took more time, in their passages from Port Famine to the western entrance of the Strait. Byron, in 1764, was forty-two days; Wallis, in 1766, eighty-two; Carteret, in the same year, eighty-four; and Bougainville, in 1768, forty days, in going that short distance.

      Five days were passed at this place, during which they communicated with a few natives, of whom Captain Stokes remarks; "As might be expected from the unkindly climate in which they dwell, the personal appearance of these Indians does not exhibit, either in male or female, any indications of activity or strength. Their average height is five feet five inches; their habit of body is spare; the limbs are badly turned, and deficient in muscle; the hair of their head is black, straight, and coarse; their beards, whiskers, and eyebrows, naturally exceedingly scanty, are carefully plucked out; their forehead is low; the nose rather prominent, with dilated nostrils; their eyes are dark, and of a moderate size; the mouth is large, and the under-lip thick; their teeth are small and regular, but of bad colour. They are of a dirty copper colour; their countenance is dull, and devoid of expression. For protection against the rigours of these inclement regions, their clothing is miserably suited; being only the skin of a seal, or sea-otter, thrown over the shoulders, with the hairy side outward.

      "The two upper corners of this skin are tied together across the breast with a strip of sinew or skin, and a similar thong secures it round the waist; the skirts are brought forward so as to be a partial covering. Their comb is a portion of the jaw of a porpoise, and they anoint their hair with seal or whale blubber; for removing the beard and eyebrows they employ a very primitive kind of tweezers, namely, two muscle shells. They daub their bodies with a red earth, like the ruddle used in England for marking sheep. The women, and children, wear necklaces, formed of small shells, neatly attached by a plaiting of the fine fibres of seal's intestines.

      "The tracts they inhabit are altogether destitute of four-footed animals; they have not domesticated the geese or ducks which abound here; of tillage they are utterly ignorant; and the only vegetable productions they eat are a few wild berries and a kind of sea-weed. Their principal food consists of muscles, limpets, and sea-eggs, and, as often as possible, seal, sea-otter, porpoise, and whale: we often found in their deserted dwellings bones of these animals, which had undergone the action of fire.

      "Former voyagers have noticed the avidity with which they swallowed the most offensive offal, such as decaying seal-skins, rancid seal, and whale blubber, &c. When on board my ship, they ate or drank greedily whatever was offered to them, salt-beef, salt-pork, preserved meat, pudding, pea-soup, tea, coffee, wine, or brandy – nothing came amiss. One little instance, however, happened, which showed what they preferred. As they were going ashore, a lump of the tallow used for arming the lead was given to them, and received with particular delight. It was scrupulously divided, and placed in the little baskets which they form of rushes, to be reserved for eating last, as the richest treat.

      "To their dwellings have been given, in various books of voyages, the names of huts, wigwams, &c.; but, with reference to their structure, I think old Sir John Narborough's term for them will convey the best idea to an English reader; he calls them 'arbours.' They are formed of about a couple of dozen branches, pointed at the larger ends, and stuck into the ground round a circular or elliptical space, about ten feet by six; the upper ends are brought together, and secured by tyers of grass, over which is thrown a thatching of grass and seal-skins, a hole being left at the side as a door, and another at the top as a vent for the smoke. A fire is kept burning within, over which the natives are constantly cowering; hence, when seen abroad, instead of appearing to be hardy savages, inured to wet and cold, you see wretched СКАЧАТЬ