Narrative of the surveying voyages of His Majesty's ships Adventure and Beagle, between the years 1826 and 1836. Fitzroy Robert
then it deepened to twelve and fifteen fathoms. We had now leisure to attend to the Beagle, and soon saw that her signals were only to warn us, for she had resumed her course under a press of sail.
After steering four miles to the S.E., we again found ourselves in the midst of ripplings, in which the water shoaled to six fathoms. It being then dark, and not knowing how to proceed, we shortened sail and brought to the wind, in order that if the ship struck it might be with less force; but happily we passed on without any further decrease of soundings. In going through the ripple, the Adelaide, though deeply laden, behaved well.
Commodore Byron passed over these shoals, which he describes as lying at a greater distance from the shore: it was to avoid them that we passed so near the land.
During the following evening there was a very heavy dew, the never-failing prognostic of a northerly wind; the horizon, also, was very hazy, and the water perfectly smooth. We were not more than ten miles off shore, yet the land was completely distorted in appearance by mirage.
Next morning we were very close to the position assigned to the Bellaco, or St. Estevan's Shoal, the existence of which has been very much doubted. It was discovered by the Nodales, and in the diary of their voyage is thus described: "At five o'clock, or later in the evening, we discovered a rock a-wash ('una baxa que lababa la mar en ella') about five leagues from the shore, more or less. It is a very deceitful rock ('Es muy bellaco baxo'), because it is under water, over which, in fine weather and smooth water, the sea breaks. We sounded near it, and found twenty-six fathoms stony bottom. Its latitude is 48½°, according to our noon observation, and the course and distance we have since run."90
The late Don Felipe Bauza, one of the companions of Malespina, informed me, that on the voyage of the Descubierta and Atrevida, their boats were sent to look for it, but were unsuccessful.
At noon we were in lat. 48° 40′ S., long. 66° 6′, depth forty-two fathoms, but without any signs of the Bellaco. Sailing on, the coast was seen in the neighbourhood of Beachy Head (so named from its resemblance to the well-known promontory). Afterwards, Cape Fairweather came in sight, and on the 10th Cape Virgins, which we passed in the evening, and, half an hour afterwards, rounding Dungeness, we again entered the Strait of Magalhaens; and anchored near the northern shore.
In Possession Bay we were detained several days, although repeated attempts to pass the First Narrow were anxiously made.
One evening, clouds gathered, and the weather assumed such a threatening appearance, that I expected to be obliged to run to sea; but to our surprise, when the cloudy mass seemed on the point of bursting over us with a deluge of rain, it suddenly vanished, and was succeeded by a beautifully clear and fine night. This favourable appearance gave us hopes of being able to make good our entrance on the following day; but a fresh gale set in, and kept us at our anchorage.
Early on the 14th we made another fruitless attempt to pass the First Narrow. As the Adelaide sailed under our stern, Lieutenant Graves informed me that he had lost an anchor, and had only one left, to which he had bent his chain-cable; and that she had shipped so much water in attempting to beat through, that he was on the point of asking permission to bear up when we ourselves gave up the attempt. It blew too hard to give any assistance to the Adelaide, but next morning, when the weather was more moderate, I seized an opportunity of sending our two kedge anchors; and in the afternoon we supplied her with some water and other necessaries, so that she was comparatively well off, and my anxiety on her account much relieved.
Fires on the Fuegian side had been kept up since our arrival, but we could not distinguish any inhabitants; on the Patagonian shores we saw a great number of guanacoes feeding quietly, a proof of there being no Indians near them.
On the 16th, the weather appearing favourable, our anchor was weighed, and, with the Adelaide, we soon entered the sluice of the Narrow, proceeding rapidly, though the wind blew hard against us. The tide carried us to an anchorage, about four miles beyond the western entrance, and it was slack water when the anchor was dropped; but, no sooner had the stream turned, than we found ourselves in the midst of a 'race,' and during the whole tide, the water broke furiously over the ship. At slack water we got underweigh, but the Adelaide not being able (from the strength of the tide), to purchase her anchor, was obliged to slip the cable: it was fortunate that we had supplied her with our kedges, or she would then have been without an anchor. The night was tempestuous, and although we reached a much quieter birth, the Adelaide drifted considerably; had she remained at the morning's anchorage, in order to save her anchor and cable, we should probably never have seen her again.
The succeeding morning, after a hard beat to windward, both vessels anchored in Gregory Bay. No Indians were in the neighbourhood, or we should have seen their fires. In the afternoon the wind moderated, and as there was every appearance of fine weather, I remained to survey the coast.
On the summit of the land, about half a mile northward of the extremity of the Cape, while Lieutenant Graves and I were taking bearings, and making observations, two guanacoes came up and stood neighing at us; the observation, however, was of consequence, and as they were not disturbed, they remained watching us for some minutes before they took alarm and fled.
Lieutenant Wickham and Mr. Tarn made an excursion to the summit of the Table Land, previously described as extending from the low land behind the Second Narrow to the N.E., in the direction of Mount Aymond, and were amply repaid for a fatiguing walk, with the thermometer at 81°, by a magnificent view: Cape Possession to the eastward, and to the south the mountains near Mount Tarn, eighty miles distant, were plainly distinguished. The view to the westward, stretching over a large extent of grassy plains, was bounded by lofty ranges of snow-capped mountains; but to the north it was intercepted by another summit of the mountain upon which they stood. The country they passed over was covered with short grass, through which a mass of granite occasionally protruded. Neither trees nor shrubs were observed, excepting a few herbaceous plants, and the berberis; a goose, some ducks, snipe, and plovers were shot; and guanacoes were seen at a distance, but no ostriches, nor did they meet any Indians. Large fires were, however, kindled on both shores of the Strait, in answer to the fire which they made for cooking. In consequence of those on the Patagonian coast appearing so close to us, we expected a visit from the natives before night, but none made their appearance.
Next morning, Mr. Graves accompanied me in a boat to a station three miles within the Second Narrow on the north side, and in our way we found the geological structure of the cliffs to be of a decomposed clay-slate, arranged in strata, much distorted by the violent action of the water, and dispersed in vertical and inclined directions in very thin laminæ.
These cliffs are about one hundred feet high, the soil a sandy alluvium, of a sterile character, scantily covered with a wiry, stunted grass, and here and there a berberis bush, loaded with ripe fruit, which, from the poverty of the soil, was tasteless and dry; the ground was also, in many parts, over-run to a considerable extent with an insipid cranberry, scarcely worth the trouble of gathering.
We struck across the country, with the view of examining the place where the Indians were residing at our last visit, and the tomb which had then been erected. Grass had grown up, and effaced the traces of feet; but the tomb had suffered no farther alteration than the weather might have effected. We found that the place had been recently visited by the natives, for within a few yards of the entrance were strewed the ashes of a large fire, containing vestiges of the former decorations of the tomb, and the end of one of the flag-staffs, with the unburnt corner of one of the banners. Amongst the ashes, also, we found calcined bones; but whether they were human or not, we could not ascertain.
The discovery of the bones impressed us with the idea that the body had been burnt, and determined me to examine the tomb. The bushes that filled up the entrance appeared to be placed exactly as when we first saw them, and indeed the whole pile seemed to have remained quite undisturbed; but there was no appearance of the brass ornaments, or of the effigies of the horses.
Having effected an opening in the bushes, we found an inner covering, made of horse-skins. Having cut two holes opposite each other, for the admission of light, we saw nothing but two parallel rows of stones, three in each row, probably intended as a bier for the body or a covering for the grave; but the ground around and between them bore no appearance
Nodales, p. 48.