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

On the charts of this part of the coast the shore is described to be formed of "chalk hills, like the coast of Kent." To geologists, therefore, especially, as they were not disposed to believe that such was the fact, this was a question of some interest. From our anchorage the appearance of the land favoured our belief of the existence of chalk. The outline was very level and steep; precipitous cliffs of whitish colour, stratified horizontally, with their upper part occasionally worn into hollows, strongly resembled the chalk cliffs of the English coasts.

The gale prevented our landing for three days, when (19th) a few minutes sufficed to discover that the cliffs were composed of soft clay, varying in colour and consistence, and disposed in strata running horizontally for many miles without interruption, excepting where water-courses had worn them away. Some of the strata were very fine clay, unmixed with any other substance, whilst others were plentifully strewed with round siliceous gravel,8 without any vestige of organic remains. The sea beach, from high-water mark to the base of the cliffs, is formed by shingle, with scattered masses of indurated clay of a green colour.9 Between the high and low tide marks there is a smooth beach of the same green clay as the masses above-mentioned, which appears to have been hardened by the action of the surf to the consistence of stone. Generally this beach extends for about one hundred yards farther into the sea, and is succeeded by a soft green mud, over which the water gradually deepens. The outer edge of the clay forms a ledge, extending parallel with the coast, upon the whole length of which the sea breaks, and over it a boat can with difficulty pass at low water.

The very few shells we found were dead. Strewed about the beach were numbers of fish, some of which had been thrown on shore by the last tide, and were scarcely stiff. They principally belonged to the genus Ophidium; the largest that we saw measured four feet seven inches in length, and weighed twenty-four pounds. Many caught alongside the ship were, in truth, coarse and insipid; yet our people, who fed heartily upon them, called them ling, and thought them palatable. The hook, however, furnished us with a very wholesome and well-flavoured species of cod (Gadus). Attached to the first we found two parasitical animals; one was a Cymothoa, the other a species of Lernæa, which had so securely attached itself under the skin, as not to be removed without cutting off a piece of the flesh with it. An undescribed species of Muræna was also taken.

Whilst we were on shore, the Beagle moved eight or nine miles nearer to the Cape, where Captain Stokes landed to fix positions of remarkable land. One peaked hill, from the circumstance of his seeing a large animal near it, he called Tiger Mount. Mr. Bowen shot a guanaco; and being at a distance in shore, unable to procure assistance, he skinned and quartered it with his pocket-knife, and carried it upon his shoulders to the boat.

Next morning the ships weighed, and proceeded towards Cape Virgins.

When a-breast of Cape Fairweather, the opening of the river Gallegos was very distinctly seen; but the examination of it was deferred to a future opportunity. Passing onward, the water shoaled to four fathoms, until we had passed extensive banks, which front the river.

Our approach to the entrance of the Strait, although attended with anxiety, caused sensations of interest and pleasure not easily to be described. Though dangers were experienced by some navigators who had passed it, the comparative facility with which others had effected the passage showed that, at times, the difficulties were easily surmounted, and we were willing to suppose that in the former case there might have been some little exaggeration.

The most complete, and, probably, the only good account of the navigation of the Strait of Magalhaens is contained in the narrative of Don Antonio de Cordova, who commanded the Spanish frigate Santa Maria de la Cabeza, on a voyage expressly for the purpose of exploring the strait. It was published under the title of 'Ultimo Viage al Estrecho de Magallanes.' That voyage was, however, concluded with only the examination of the eastern part, and a subsequent expedition was made, under the command of the same officer, the account of which was appended to the Cabeza's voyage; so that Cordova's expedition still retained the appellation of 'Ultimo Viage, &c.' It is written in a plain and simple style, gives a most correct account of every thing seen, and should therefore be in the possession of every person who attempts the navigation of the strait.

Cordova's account of the climate is very uninviting. Speaking of the rigours of the summer months (January, February, and March), he says, "Seldom was the sky clear, and short were the intervals in which we experienced the sun's warmth: no day passed by without some rain having fallen, and the most usual state of the weather was that of constant rain."10

The accounts of Wallis and Carteret are still more gloomy. The former concludes that part of his narrative with the following dismal and disheartening description: "Thus we quitted a dreary and inhospitable region, where we were in almost continual danger of shipwreck for near four months, having entered the strait on the 17th of December, and quitted it on the 11th of April 1767: a region where, in the midst of summer, the weather was cold, gloomy, and tempestuous, where the prospects had more the appearance of a chaos than of nature; and where for the most part the valleys were without herbage and the hills without wood."

These records of Cordova and Wallis made me feel not a little apprehensive for the health of the crew, which could not be expected to escape uninjured through the rigours of such a climate. Nor were the narratives of Byron or Bougainville calculated to lessen my anxiety. In an account, however, of a voyage to the strait by M. A. Duclos Guyot, the following paragraph tended considerably to relieve my mind upon the subject: – "At length, on Saturday the 23d of March, we sailed out of that famous Strait, so much dreaded, after having experienced that there, as well as in other places, it was very fine, and very warm, and that for three-fourths of the time the sea was perfectly calm."

In every view of the case, our proximity to the principal scene of action occasioned sensations of a peculiar nature, in which, however, those that were most agreeable and hopeful preponderated. The officers and crews of both ships were healthy, and elated with the prospect before them; our vessels were in every respect strong and sea-worthy; and we were possessed of every comfort and resource necessary for encountering much greater difficulties than we had any reason to anticipate.

There has existed much difference of opinion as to the correct mode of spelling the name of the celebrated navigator who discovered this Strait. The French and English usually write it Magellan, and the Spaniards Magallanes; but by the Portuguese (and he was a native of Portugal) it is universally written Magalhaens. Admiral Burney and Mr. Dalrymple spell it Magalhanes, which mode I have elsewhere adopted, but I have since convinced myself of the propriety of following the Portuguese orthography for a name which, to this day, is very common both in Portugal and Brazil.

CHAPTER II

Enter the Straits of Magalhaens (or Magellan), and anchor off Cape Possession – First Narrow – Gregory Bay – Patagonian Indians – Second Narrow – Elizabeth Island – Freshwater Bay – Fuegian Indians – Arrival at Port Famine.

A contrary tide and light winds detained us at anchor near Cape Virgins until four o'clock in the afternoon, when, with the turn of the tide, a light air carried us past Dungeness Point, aptly named by Wallis from its resemblance to that in the English Channel. A great number of seals were huddled together upon the bank, above the wash of the tide, whilst others were sporting about in the surf. Cape Possession was in sight, and with the wind and tide in our favour we proceeded until ten o'clock, when the anchor was dropped. At daylight we found ourselves six miles to the eastward of the cape. The anchor was then weighed, and was again dropped at three miles from the cape until the afternoon, when we made another attempt; but lost ground, and anchored a third time. Before night a fourth attempt was made, but the tide prevented our making any advance, and we again anchored.

Mount Aymond11 and "his four sons," or (according to the old quaint nomenclature) the Asses' Ears, had been in sight all day, as well as a small hummock of land on the S.W. horizon, which afterwards proved to be the peaked hillock upon Cape Orange, at the south side of the entrance to the First Narrow.

At this anchorage the tide fell thirty feet, but the strength of the current, compared with the rate at which we afterwards found it to run, was inconsiderable. Here we first experienced the peculiar tides of which former navigators have written. During the first half of the flood12 or westward tide, the depth decreased, and then, after a short interval, increased until three hours after the stream of tide had begun to run to the eastward.

The following morning (21st) we gained a little ground. Our glasses were directed to the shore in search of inhabitants, for it was hereabouts that Byron, and Wallis, and some of the Spanish navigators held communication with the Patagonian Indians; but we saw none. Masses of large sea-weed,13 drifting with the tide, floated past the ship. A description of this remarkable plant, although it has often been given before, may not be irrelevant here. It is rooted upon rocks or stones at the bottom of the sea, and rises to the surface, even from great depths. We have found it firmly fixed to the ground more than twenty fathoms under water, yet trailing along the surface for forty or fifty feet. When firmly rooted it shows the set of the tide or current. It has also the advantage of indicating rocky ground: for wherever there are rocks under water, their situation is, as it were, buoyed by a mass of sea-weed14 on the surface of the sea, of larger extent than that of the danger below. In many instances perhaps it causes unnecessary alarm, since it often grows in deep water; but it should not be entered without its vicinity having been sounded, especially if seen in masses, with the extremities of the stems trailing along the surface. If there be no tide, or if the wind and tide are the same way, the plant lies smoothly upon the water, but if the wind be against the tide, the leaves curl up and are visible at a distance, giving a rough, rippling appearance to the surface of the water.

During the last two days the dredge had furnished us with a few specimens of Infundibulum of Sowerby (Patella trochi-formis, Lin.), and some dead shells (Murex Magellanicus) were brought up by the sounding-lead.

We made another attempt next morning, but again lost ground, and the anchor was dropped for the eighth time. The threatening appearances of the clouds, and a considerable fall of the barometer indicating bad weather, Captain Stokes agreed with me in thinking it advisable to await the spring-tides to pass the First Narrow: the ships were therefore made snug for the expected gale, which soon came on, and we remained several days wind-bound, with top-masts struck, in a rapid tide-way, whose stream sometimes ran seven knots. On the 28th, with some appearance of improving weather, we made an attempt to pass through the Narrow. The wind blowing strong, directly against us, and strengthening as we advanced, caused a hollow sea, that repeatedly broke over us. The tide set us through the Narrow very rapidly, but the gale was so violent that we could not show more sail than was absolutely necessary to keep the ship under command. Wearing every ten minutes, as we approached either shore, lost us a great deal of ground, and as the anchorage we left was at a considerable distance from the entrance of the Narrows, the tide was not sufficient to carry us through. At slack water the wind fell, and as the weather became fine, I was induced to search for anchorage near the south shore. The sight of kelp, however, fringing the coast, warned me off, and we were obliged to return to an anchorage in Possession Bay. The Beagle had already anchored in a very favourable berth; but the tide was too strong to permit us to reach the place she occupied, and our anchor was dropped a mile astern of her, in nineteen fathoms. The tide was then running five, and soon afterwards six miles an hour. Had the western tide set with equal strength, we should have succeeded in passing the Narrow. Our failure, however, answered the good purpose of making us more acquainted with the extent of a bank that lines the northern side of Possession Bay, and with the time of the turn of tide in the Narrow; which on this day (new moon) took place within a few minutes of noon.

As we passed Cape Orange, some Indians were observed lighting a fire under the lee of the hill to attract our notice; but we were too busily engaged to pay much attention to their movements. Guanacoes also were seen feeding near the beach, which was the first intimation we had of the existence of that animal southward of the Strait of Magalhaens.

When day broke (29th) it was discovered that the ship had drifted considerably during the night. The anchor was weighed, and with a favourable tide we reached an anchorage a mile in advance of the Beagle. We had shoaled rather suddenly to eight fathoms, upon which the anchor was immediately dropped, and on veering cable the depth was eleven fathoms. We had anchored on the edge of a bank, which soon afterwards, by the tide falling, was left dry within one hundred yards of the ship. Finding ourselves so near a shoal, preparations were made to prevent the ship from touching it. An anchor was dropped under foot, and others were got ready to lay out, for the depth alongside had decreased from eleven to seven fathoms, and was still falling. Fortunately we had brought up to leeward of the bank, and suffered no inconvenience; the flood made, and as soon as possible the ship was shifted to another position, about half a mile to the S.E., in a situation very favourable for our next attempt to pass the Narrow. This night the tide fell thirty-six feet, and the stream ran six knots.

The ensuing morning we made another attempt to get through the Narrow, and, from having anchored so close to its entrance, by which the full benefit of the strength, as well as the whole duration of the tide was obtained, we succeeded in clearing it in two hours, although the distance was more than twenty miles, and the wind directly against us, the sea, as before, breaking repeatedly over the ship.

After emerging from the Narrow we had to pass through a heavy 'race' before we 'reached' out of the influence of the stream that runs between the First and Second Narrow, but the tide lasted long enough to carry us to a quiet anchorage. In the evening we weighed again, and reached Gregory Bay, where the Beagle joined us the next morning.

Since entering the Strait, we had not had any communication with the Beagle on account of the weather, and the strength of the tide; this opportunity was therefore taken to supply her with water, of which she had only enough left for two days.

The greater part of this day was spent on shore, examining the country and making observations. Large smokes15 were noticed to the westward. The shore was strewed with traces of men and horses, and other animals. Foxes and ostriches were seen; and bones of guanacoes were lying about the ground.

The country in the vicinity of this anchorage seemed open, low, and covered with good pasturage. It extends five or six miles, with a gradual ascent, to the base of a range of flat-topped land, whose summit is about fifteen hundred feet above the level of the sea. Not a tree was seen; a few bushes16 alone interrupted the uniformity of the view. The grass appeared to have been cropped by horses or guanacoes, and was much interspersed with cranberry plants, bearing a ripe and juicy, though very insipid fruit.

Next day the wind was too strong and adverse to permit us to proceed. In the early part of the morning an American sealing vessel, returning from the Madre de Dios Archipelago on her way to the Falkland Islands, anchored near us. Mr. Cutler, her master, came on board the Adventure, passed the day and night with us, and gave me much useful information respecting the nature of the navigation, and anchorages in the Strait. He told me there was an Englishman in his vessel who was a pilot for the strait, and willing to join the ship. I gladly accepted the offer of his services.

In the evening an Indian was observed on horseback riding to and fro upon the beach, but the weather prevented my sending a boat until the next morning, when Lieutenant Cooke went on shore to communicate with him and other Indians who appeared, soon after dawn, upon the beach. On landing, he was received by them without the least distrust. They were eight or ten in number, consisting of an old man and his wife, three young men, and the rest children, all mounted on good horses. The woman, who appeared to be about fifty years of age, was seated astride upon a pile of skins, hung round with joints of fresh guanaco meat and dried horse-flesh. They were all wrapped in mantles, made chiefly of the skins of guanacoes, sewed together with the sinews of the same animal. These mantles were large enough to cover the whole body. Some were made of skins of the 'zorillo,' or skunk, an animal like a pole-cat, but ten times more offensive; and others, of skins of the puma.

The tallest of the Indians, excepting the old man, who did not dismount, was rather less than six feet in height. All were robust in appearance, and with respect to the head, length of body, and breadth of shoulders, of gigantic size; therefore, when on horseback, or seated in a boat, they appeared to be tall, as well as large men. In proportion to the parts above-mentioned, their extremities were very small and short, so that when standing they seemed but of a moderate size, and their want of proportion was concealed by the mantle, which enveloped the body entirely, the head and feet being the only parts exposed.

When Mr. Cooke landed, he presented some medals17 to the oldest man, and the woman; and suspended them round their necks. A friendly feeling being established, the natives dismounted, and even permitted our men to ride their horses, without evincing the least displeasure, at the free advantage taken of their good-nature. Mr. Cooke rode to the heights, whence he had a distinct view of the Second Narrow, and Elizabeth Island, whither, he explained to the Indians who accompanied him, we were going.

Mr. Cooke returned to the ship with three natives, whom he had induced to go with us to Elizabeth Island; the others were to meet them, and provide us with guanaco meat, to which arrangement the elders of the family had, after much persuasion, assented. At first they objected to their companions embarking with us, unless we left hostages for their safety; but as this was refused, they did not press the point, and the three young men embarked. They went on board singing; in high glee.

While the ship was getting under way, I went ashore to a larger number of Indians who were waiting on the beach. When my boat landed they were mounted, and collected in one place. I was surprised to hear the woman accost me in Spanish, of which, however, she knew but a few words. Having presented medals to each of the party, they dismounted (excepting the elders), and in a few minutes became quite familiar. By this time Captain Stokes had landed, with several of his officers, who increased our party to nearly double the number of theirs: notwithstanding which they evinced neither fear nor uneasiness. The woman, whose name was Maria, wished to be very communicative; she told me that the man was her husband, and that she had five children. One of the young men, whom we afterwards found to be a son of Maria, who was a principal person of the tribe, was mounted upon a very fine horse, well groomed, and equipped with a bridle and saddle that would have done credit to a respectable horseman of Buenos Ayres or Monte Video. The young man wore heavy brass spurs, like those of the Guachos of Buenos Ayres. The juvenile and feminine appearance of this youth made us think he was Maria's daughter, nor was it until a subsequent visit that our mistake was discovered. The absence of whiskers and beard gives all the younger men a very effeminate look, and many cannot be distinguished, in appearance, from the women, but by the mode in which they wrap their mantles around them, and by their hair, which is turned up and confined by a fillet of worsted yarn. The women cross their mantle over the breast like a shawl, and fasten it together with two iron pins or skewers, round which are twisted strings of beads and other ornaments. They also wear their hair divided, and gathered into long tresses or tails, which hang one before each ear; and those who have short hair, wear false tails made of horse-hair. Under their mantle the women wear a sort of petticoat, and the men a triangular piece of hide instead of breeches. Both sexes sit astride, but the women upon a heap of skins and mantles, when riding. The saddles and stirrups used by the men are similar to those of Buenos Ayres. The bits, also, are generally of steel; but those who cannot procure steel bits have a sort of snaffle, of wood, which must, of course, be frequently renewed. Both sexes wear boots, made of the skins of horses' hind legs, of which the parts about the hock joints serve for the heels. For spurs, they use pieces of wood, pointed with iron, projecting backwards two or three inches on each side of the heel, connected behind by a broad strap of hide, and fastened under the foot and over the instep by another strap.

The only weapons which we observed with these people were the 'bolas,' or balls, precisely similar to those used by the Pampas Indians; but they are fitter for hunting than for offence or defence. Some are furnished with three balls, but in general there are only two. These balls are made of small bags or purses of hide, moistened, filled with iron pyrites, or some other heavy substance, and then dried. They are about the size of a hen's egg, and attached to the extremities of a thong, three or four yards in length. To use them, one ball is held in the hand, and the other swung several times around the head until both are thrown at the object, which they rarely miss. They wind round it violently, and if it be an animal, throw it down. The bolas, with three balls, similarly connected together, are thrown in the same manner.

As more time could not be spared we went on board, reminding the natives, on leaving them, of their promise to bring us some guanaco meat. Aided by the tide, the ships worked to windward through the Second Narrow, and reached an anchorage out of the strength of tide, but in an exposed situation. The wind having been very strong and against the tide, the ship had much motion, which made our Patagonian passengers very sick, and heartily sorry for trusting themselves afloat. One of them, with tears in his eyes, begged to be landed, but was soon convinced of the difficulty of compliance, and satisfied with our promise of sending him ashore on the morrow.

After we anchored, the wind increased to a gale, in which the ship pitched so violently as to injure our windlass. Its construction was bad originally, and the violent jerks received in Possession Bay had done it much damage. While veering cable, the support at one end gave way, and the axle of the barrel was forced out of the socket, by which some of the pawls were injured. Fortunately, dangerous consequences were prevented, and a temporary repair was soon applied.

The Beagle, by her better sailing, had reached a more advanced situation, close to the N.E. end of Elizabeth Island, but had anchored disadvantageously in deep water, and in the strength of the tide. Next morning we made an attempt to pass round Elizabeth Island, but found the breeze so strong that we were forced to return, and were fortunate enough to find good anchorage northward of the island, out of the tide.

The Patagonians, during the day, showed much uneasiness at being kept on board so much longer than they expected; but as they seemed to understand the cause of their detention, and as their sickness ceased when we reached smooth water, they gradually recovered their good-humour, and became very communicative. As well as we could understand their pronunciation, their names were 'Coigh,' 'Coichi,' and 'Aighen.' The country behind Cape Negro they called 'Chilpéyo;' the land of Tierra del Fuego, 'Oschērri;' Elizabeth Island, 'Tŭrrĕtterr;' the island of Santa Magdalena, 'Shrēe-ket-tup;' and Cape Negro, 'Oērkrĕckur.' The Indians of Tierra del Fuego, with whom they are not on friendly terms, are designated by them 'Săpāllĭŏs.' This name was applied to them in a contemptuous tone.