Narrative of the surveying voyages of His Majesty's ships Adventure and Beagle, between the years 1826 and 1836. Fitzroy Robert
reached the Labyrinth Islands; but finding there no suitable anchorage, resumed our course towards the bottom of what we thought another sound, terminated by mountains. At noon, the furthest point, on the west shore, which we called Cape Turn, was within three miles of us, and we should soon have discovered the continuation of the channel (as it has since been proved); but a breeze set in from the S.W., and in a short time it blew so strong as to oblige us to turn back. 'Williwaws' and baffling eddy winds kept us seven hours under Mount Boqueron. These squalls were at first alarming, but by taking in all sail, before they passed, we sustained no injury. At sunset we were abreast of Hope Harbour, in which we purposed taking shelter from the gale. Our late neighbours, the Indians, had lighted a fire at the entrance to invite our return; but wind and tide were against us, and as we knew of no port to leeward, our only resource was to run out of the sound. Furious squalls carried us into the true, or steady, wind, which we found very strong; and as Port San Antonio was on the lee-bow, we had to carry such a press of sail, that our excellent boat had nearly half the lee side of her deck under water. By daylight we got into smooth water, and, with less wind and better weather, steered for Port Famine. The smoother water enabled us to light a fire and cook a meal, not an unimportant affair, as we had eaten nothing since six o'clock on the preceding morning.
In our absence Mr. Graves had surveyed Lomas Bay, and, after his return, Mr. Ainsworth had crossed the Strait with the gig and cutter to survey Port San Antonio. They were victualled for five days; the gig was manned by my own boat's crew, and the cutter by volunteers: but although they had not come back, we felt no anxiety about their safety, being assured that Mr. Ainsworth would not run the risk of crossing the Strait during bad weather. The tempestuous state of the two following days, however, made us uneasy, and on the third morning, when the wind moderated much, we looked out anxiously for their arrival. In the evening the cutter returned; but, alas! with the melancholy information of the loss of Mr. Ainsworth, and two seamen, drowned by the upsetting of the gig. One of the latter was my excellent coxswain, John Corkhill. The remainder of the gig's crew were only rescued from drowning by the strenuous exertions of those in the cutter.
Mr. Ainsworth, anxious to return to the ship, thought too little of the difficulty and danger of crossing the Strait during unsettled weather. He set out from Port San Antonio under sail, and, while sheltered by the land, did very well; but as soon as they got into the offing, both wind and sea increased so much that the gig was in great danger, although under only a small close-reefed sail.
The people in the cutter were anxiously watching her labouring movements, when she disappeared! They hastened to the spot – saved three men; but the other two had gone down. Poor Ainsworth was still clinging to the gig's gunwale when his shipmates eagerly approached; but letting go his hold from extreme exhaustion, and being heavily clothed, he sunk from their sight to rise no more.
He had been cheering the drowning crew, and trying to save his companions, till the moment his grasp relaxed. Just before Ainsworth himself let go, Mr. Hodgskin lost his hold, exclaiming, Ainsworth, save me! when, exhausted as he was, with one hand he rescued his friend, and, directly afterwards, his strength failing, sunk.
This addition of three people to the already loaded cutter, made her cargo more than was safe, therefore Mr. Williams, who commanded her, very prudently bore up for the first convenient landing-place, and happily succeeded in reaching the only part of the beach, between Lomas Bay and Cape Valentyn, where a boat could land.
The following morning, the weather being more favourable, they crossed under sail to Freshwater Bay, and thence pulled to Port Famine.
This melancholy disaster was much felt by every one. Ainsworth was a deserving officer, and highly esteemed. Corkhill was captain of the forecastle, and had served in the Polar voyages under Sir Edward Parry. On the Sunday following, the colours were hoisted half-mast high, and the funeral service was read after morning prayers: for although to recover the bodies was impossible, their watery grave was before our eyes; and the performance of this last sad duty was a melancholy satisfaction.
"Ours are the tears, tho' few, sincerely shed,
When ocean shrouds and sepulchres our dead."
A tablet was subsequently erected, on Point St. Anna, to record this fatal accident.
CHAPTER V
Lieutenant Sholl arrives – Beagle returns – Loss of the Saxe Cobourg sealer – Captain Stokes goes to Fury Harbour to save her crew – Beagle's proceedings – Bougainville's memorial – Cordova's memorial – Beagle's danger – Difficulties – Captain Stokes's boat-cruize – Passages – Natives – Dangerous service – Western entrance of the Strait of Magalhaens – Hope's cruize – Prepare to return to Monte Video.
The Beagle's time of absence had expired on the 1st of April, and our anxiety, more excited by our recent loss, was becoming painful. I detained the Hope from going upon a service for which she was prepared, in case she might be required to search for our consort: but on the 6th a strange whale-boat was descried pulling towards us from the southward, in which we soon distinguished Lieut. Sholl. His appearance, under such circumstances, of course raised fears for the Beagle's safety; but, on approaching, his gratifying shout, "all's well!" at once removed anxiety.
Mr. Sholl informed me, that the Beagle had picked up a boat, belonging to the schooner 'Prince of Saxe Cobourg,' wrecked in Fury Harbour, at the south entrance of the Barbara Channel; and that she had put into Port Gallant, whence Captain Stokes had gone with the boats to assist the Sealers, leaving Lieut. Skyring on board.
The safety of the Beagle being established, I despatched Mr. Graves, in the Hope, to examine some openings between the Magdalen Channel and the Dos Hermanos of Bougainville.
Several days earlier than I expected, the Beagle made her appearance, and Captain Stokes soon gave me the agreeable intelligence of having succeeded in saving the Prince of Saxe Cobourg's crew. Favoured by the weather, though delayed by his guide having forgotten the way, Captain Stokes reached Fury Harbour in two days, and embarked the master and crew of the wrecked vessel, with all their personal property, and the greater part of the seal-skins which they had cured. He reached Port Gallant again on the fourth day; sailed immediately in the Beagle, and two days afterwards anchored in Port Famine.
The Prince of Saxe Cobourg, belonging to Mr. Weddel (whose voyage towards the South Pole is so well known), and commanded by Mr. Matthew Brisbane, who accompanied Weddel on that occasion, sailed from England in the summer of 1826, on a sealing voyage. At South Shetland she encountered a continuance of bad weather, was beset by a large body of ice for several days, and received so much damage as to oblige her to run for the Fuegian coast, and anchor in Fury Harbour, at the entrance of the Barbara Channel. There (December 16th, 1826) she was driven on shore by the furious strength of the williwaws, and wrecked. The crew were, however, enabled to save most of the provisions and stores, as well as their three boats. Having made tents, and established themselves on shore, they remained in anxious expectation of the arrival of some vessel which might relieve them; day after day however passed, without succour.
Two boats were despatched to look for any sealing vessel that might be in the vicinity, but after fifteen days' absence they returned unsuccessful. In this interval one of the crew, who had long been sickly, died; and another, in carelessly discharging a musket, exploded twenty pounds of gunpowder, by which he was very much burned. Three of the people being mutinous, were punished by being sent, each to a different island, with only a week's provisions.
Soon afterwards another boat was sent away, which reached Hope Harbour, but found no vessel there. Seven of the people then obtained permission from the master (who kept up a very proper state of discipline), to take the largest whale-boat, and go towards the River Negro. Previous to their departure they drew up articles of agreement for their general conduct, a breach of which was to be punished by the offender being left upon the coast, wherever they might happen to be. The boat eventually arrived safely at the place of her destination, and the crew entered as volunteers on board of the Buenos Ayrean squadron, at that time engaged in the war with Brazil.
Again a boat was despatched, directed to go westward through the Strait in search of vessels. She had only reached as far as Playa Parda, when the Beagle fell in with her (March 3d, 1827). While passing through