The wilds of Patagonia

THE BEAGLE CHANNEL

In Punta Arenas everything looked the same. Times were still bad though somewhat better than in the preceding winter when paper money was worth nothing—the peso was then down to sevenpence instead of eighteen; now it varied between nine and ten. The great fluctuation in the value of Chilean money is of course a great drawback to commercial development; one never knows from day to day how much one has, and the first look in the morning paper is at “el cambio,” printed on the first page in large type. Not a few persons speculate in money, and more than one fortune has been made only by buying and selling notes. I believe the market has become more steady now.

Long in advance we had made preparations for our last expedition, the visit to the Beagle Channel. “El apostadero naval,” the naval station, had a new chief, for Mr. Rojas had been pensioned and was succeeded by Rear-Admiral F. Valenzuela. He had got orders from Valparaiso and received us with great kindness, offering us the small but convenient steamer Porvenir for the trip. The Government had purchased it during the winter, when, owing to the bad times, more than one Punta Arenas ship changed owner. The officers started at once to equip the vessel.

The town was in a state of rejoicing. It was a carnival time and festive processions passed through the windy streets, but I think it was a hard job to raise carnival-spirits on the shores of Magellan Straits. Dancing saloons had been rigged up for the occasion, and were filled all night long. We had no time, however, for things of that sort. We had to go through all the luggage sent from Puerto Montt in October; another equipment had to be got together and I was running all day long between the ports, the telegraph-office and the Argentine consulate to arrange an important piece of business, the transport of ourselves and our luggage from Punta Arenas to Buenos Aires. There is regular communication between the latter place and Ushuaia. One of the steamers, however, had just run ashore on the Atlantic coast, the other, Primero de Mayo, had just passed on her way south, and the Argentine Consul, Mr. Margueirat, told us that her commander had orders to take us on board if this would suit us. But she ought to be back in Punta Arenas long before we had finished our exploration in the Beagle Channel and we had to leave without knowing anything for certain. I wired to Buenos Aires asking if there would be any other possible ship besides the Primero de Mayo, but could not wait for the answer.

The summer had been uncommonly dry, it was difficult to get water, and not until March 3 did the Porvenir get her supply. In the evening we went on board, and before sunrise were under way towards the Magdalena Channel. The commander was Mr. P. Acevedo, captain in the navy, an able officer and good companion. In a short time we got into the familiar old fog again. It is said in the tale of creation, that the water in the air was separated from the water on the earth but in the west of Tierra del Fuego one is inclined to believe that the separation never was completed, so difficult is it to see where the sea ends and the sky begins. On clear days the magnificent Mt. Sarmiento, the highest peak in Tierra del Fuego, shines like a gigantic beacon visible far north of Punta Arenas on Elisabeth Island at a distance of ninety-six nautical miles. We anchored the first night in Puerto Barrow, and found time to go on shore; I had never visited this part of Tierra del Fuego before. At dawn we weighed anchor. The weather was not nice, but not bad, and in any case good enough to clear the sometimes critical passage round the Brecknock peninsula. For a while one gets a broadside from the Pacific, which for a small steamer may be dangerous. We had vivid recollections of the Swedish expedition in 1896, whose journey in the Condor was nearly disastrous owing as far as I can gather to the carelessness or ignorance of the officers. The open passage with its black, storm-beaten rocks and reefs produces a terrifying and desolate impression. The whole business only lasted a couple of hours and then we came into smooth water again. We had just entered the Brecknock Sound, when we met the Primero de Mayo on her way to Punta Arenas—far too early for us; we saluted her with the flag, continued through Whaleboat Sound and anchored in Puerto Fortuna on the north coast of Londonderry Island.

We had heard much of the beauty of the Western Beagle Channel; but it almost surpassed our expectations. It is mainly the same sort of country as we had seen before with steep shores covered with evergreen forests or bogs and with snow-clad crests and summits. But down here a new and important feature is added, the glaciers. In the Patagonian Channels it is only in the inlets penetrating into the main range of the Andes that the glaciers come down into the sea. But in the west part of the Beagle Channel nearly every valley is occupied by a blue stream of ice coming down through the forest and causing that contrast between the eternal ice and eternal green extolled by Darwin and all travellers after him. Not only are the larger valleys that run down into the sea thus ice-filled but any small depression on a mountain-side has become a refuge for a wee tongue of ice.

As we wanted to see a little more of the glaciers we went into a bay called Glacier Sound. Probably no ship was ever in here, for the depth was unknown. We sounded, but the water suddenly shallowed so that we ran aground on the loose clay. Of course we got off again. Unfortunately the way to the glacier was barred by closely packed drift-ice, so we soon left the place and went to spend the night in Romanche Bay. We had now reached the most magnificent part of the Beagle Channel, the Northwest Arm, where glacier follows upon glacier. Opposite Romanche Bay there is one especially worthy of attention. Blue as only ice can be, it floats out over the mountain ledge, sending a vertical tongue down into the water; from the edge higher up the river rushes out of its vault, at once forming a waterfall playing with the miniature ice-floes. The conditions at the Darwin glacier further east were very favourable, making it easy to study the moraines as well as the vegetation round the ice border. Nature itself had come to our help. The ice does not extend down to the water, but ends in the forest. Some years ago the river changed its course owing to some accidental damming-up; the obstacle disappearing, it returned to its old bed again and left the new one free of access. It formed quite a natural road across the forest and we could walk up to the ice very comfortably. The distance from the ice-border to the first stunted trees is about ten feet.

After a short visit to Yendagaia, we anchored in Lapataia, a place well known to me, where I had spent some time with Dr. K. Andersson in 1902. The saw-mill was still there, but the old manager had gone long ago. It was Sunday and work was stopped, but we met the new boss and asked him to lend us a boat, for Quensel and I intended to pull across Lago Acigami or Roca, as the lake north of Lapataia is called. We saw at once that he was a stranger in the country, and we chose English to speak with him; however Quensel and I exchanged some remarks in Swedish and at once he joined in telling us that he also was a Swede, by name Lundberg. Another Scandinavian, a Norwegian, also worked in the small saw-mill.

The next morning we pulled up a rapid stream, the outlet of Lago Acigami. Without warning one is out on the bosom of the lake, hitherto hidden behind dense foliage. The eastern shore slopes gradually and is covered with dense forests down to the water, into which the trees dip their branches. The western shore is very different, rising abruptly like an immense wall of stone with snow-patches in all crevices to a very considerable height; the highest peaks, nearly 4000 feet, cast their dark shadow over the whole lake. It was rather strange after an absence of six and a half years to plough the waters of Lago Acigami once more—once more to catch sight of the pretty points where we rested upon the oars to breathe. Probably I shall not come back for the third time....

The boundary between Argentina and Chile crosses this lake, cuts straight down to the Beagle Channel, following it to the Atlantic. In the morning we started in Argentina and landed in Chile at the other end of the lake. Here we had a hasty meal, standing, or even running about to get clear of the innumerable mosquitoes. The Acigami-depression is continued by a broad valley of exactly the same nature as the Betbeder Valley, traversed by a river. The bottom is impassable on account of the swamps and we worked our way through the forest alongside it till we reached a point from where we could overlook the neighbourhood. We made out that we were in the Rojas Valley, whose river we had discovered the previous year, and thus had reached our goal. The same night we were back on board.

To judge from the big mussel-banks Lapataia was once a main resort for the Yahgan tribe. Halle made some excavations and found some bone-prickers.

The next day we continued eastward. We saw Ushuaia at some distance, but left it behind and went into the passage between the Navarin and Hoste Islands, the Murray Narrows. We knew that the English mission station formerly installed in Tekenika Bay had been moved to a place opposite this, and found it in Douglas Bay. There is no shelter here from the prevailing wind, but otherwise Nature is prettier than in the old place. A heavy sea was running, but soon a small yawl came from the station pulled by two Indians and in the person in the stern I recognized the English missionary, Mr. Williams, whose acquaintance I had made in Tekenika in 1902. He was greatly astonished at seeing one of the fellows from the Antarctic once more. We followed him ashore. What an agreeable contrast between this place and Dawson Island. Here the last remnants of the Yahgan tribe are collected, numbering a hundred and seventy. Is it possible that only seventy-five years ago their fires blazed all along the Beagle Channel and round the archipelago of Cape Horn? They have been extinguished for ever. But before all the Yahgans gathered on the stations the French Cape Horn expedition spent one year in Orange Bay; quite a colony of Indians stayed with them and were studied from every point of view. I must also mention the valuable observations on their habits and language made by the late Thomas Bridges of Ushuaia, through which we possess a fairly complete account of this people. In Douglas Bay they are very well treated and get permission to make long excursions hunting and fishing. Mr. Williams is a practical man, whose enthusiasm for preaching the gospel has not led him astray, and the Indians seem to have confidence in him. He speaks their language fluently—well, this might be considered a matter of course, though the Salesian padre on Dawson Island hardly knew a word of it. We had to leave Mr. Williams’ pleasant home helter-skelter—for suddenly a south-west gale came on and it was all we could do to get back on board. We had to weigh anchor at once and seek shelter under Hoste Island, where we anchored in Allen Gardiner Bay, on the same spot where the lamented Antarctic lay in 1902. There were hardly any traces of the mission station, for all the houses had been moved to the new place.

Here Halle had an important task to fulfil. Dr. J. G. Anderson had found fossilized wood and shells embedded before the folding of the Fuegian Cordillera took place; thus an investigation of the fossils would give certain indications as to the age of the mountain chain. The collections were lost in the Antarctic, and we had come there to get new ones. Halle was left there with a tent, a boat, provisions and two men. We on the Porvenir went south. We were interested to visit the old station in Orange Bay; the commemorative pyramid with its marble plates was left intact and a few steps from there was one of the pillars of the magnetical observatory. At night two boats of Indians came; they asked us to take them to the Wollaston Islands. They were abundantly supplied with provisions, flour, sugar, &c., and had also brought a rifle. We went there the next morning. The southernmost of these Islands is Hoorn Island with the famous cape. The forest is limited to small groves and thickets and the vegetation much reminded me of what I had seen in certain places on the West Falklands. We only landed at two places and then crossed again to Packsaddle Bay, as Quensel wanted to study some of the localities where the French expedition had been. When we came back to Tekenina we found that Halle had got comrades, several Yahgans, who had made a hut of sticks and bundles of grass. They were on their way to the mission, but could not help stopping, curious to see what the white men were doing. One of the sailors from the Porvenir had shown a rifle to them, which made them come to Halle assuring him of their exceptionally friendly sentiments. He was pleased with his results, and in the afternoon of March 13 we went to Ushuaia. The capital of Tierra del Fuego has a very pretty situation on the channel at the foot of the Martial Mountains and everywhere surrounded by roble forests. The harbour is formed by the woodless peninsula, where the houses that once belonged to Mr. Thomas Bridges’ mission station are still left.

Ushuaia is of importance as the Argentine deportation-station. When I was here in 1902 the deported were just building a new prison, which was finished now long ago. The chief, Major Herrera, came on board and welcomed us in the name of the Governor; he and the judge were the only officials left, for all the rest had gone to Buenos Aires in the Primero de Mayo.

During the seven years that had gone by since my first visit the place had been greatly developed. A new street behind the strand “Avenue” and several buildings, above all a new police station, had been added, but the Government House looked as shabby as ever and the jetty was even more ramshackle than before. Street lamps and policemen had increased in number and my old friends looked well and had grown fat, which proves that the prison gives sustenance also to its employees. It was indeed funny now and then to meet a face, half forgotten in the mists of past years. Naturally there was a very hearty welcome, and we gathered in Club Ushuaia—another step towards culture—and drank a toast to the merry and unexpected encounter.

We had not much to do here, but I wanted to return to a place where I made some fine collections in 1902, and Halle went to look for ancient shore-lines, indicating a post-glacial upheaval of the land. Nature in this part of the Beagle Channel is rather different from that further west. The total amount of rainfall is much smaller and the evergreen beach has nearly disappeared altogether. The mountains get lower, the Martial range is the last prominent part, where a miniature glacier may be found at a great height; the highest summit, Mt. Olivia, 4350 feet, attracts attention through its peculiar form. We made an excursion to a little stream coming from the foot of this mountain; in the forest it forms a small waterfall; round it grow some fine evergreen beeches and there is an uncommonly rich cryptogamic vegetation. But then we had no reason to stop in Ushuaia, so we continued on the 15th under loud protests from the inhabitants who wanted to keep us there.

We stopped some hours outside Gable Island, where Halle went on shore to collect quaternary fossils in the barrancas; the material gathered by J. G. Andersson had shared the fate of the Tekenika collections. We anchored in Harberton Harbour, where once more I found myself among old friends. Harberton is the only important farm on the Channel. When Argentina founded Ushuaia the English mission pined away, and when Thomas Bridges left his place, the Government gave him a piece of land at Harberton, where he and his sons have created a model establishment evoking the admiration of every visitor. Old Bridges had long been dead and only his son Willie was left in Harberton; his brothers had moved to a new farm on the Atlantic Coast, to which they had made a road past Lago Fagnano. In 1902 we saw many Ona Indians in Harberton; now only a few were there, as most of them had gone to the new farm, which is developing rapidly; soon it will be possible to keep a stock of 100,000 sheep there.

A few years ago the Onas were the absolute masters of Tierra del Fuego, where they had vast hunting-grounds. Most certainly they are a branch of the Tehuelche people—but prolonged isolation and the lack of boats in which to cross the Straits have gradually changed their habits and language. Their tall forms and good-looking faces remind one much of the Tehuelches of Patagonia.

If we consider how much this people has been in contact with white men, it is strange that they have not been properly studied until recent years. The Salesian mission has a station at Rio Grande, but there are very few Indians. Some live on Dawson Island, some families live in the forest north of Lago Fagnano, but the rest are probably scattered over the land south of Rio Grande. Not a few work on Bridges’ farm. We were told that Modesto who went with J. G. Andersson to Lago Fagnano and then with both of us to Gable Island had been promoted “Capataz” of the carts. Also Anikin was alive and lived as shepherd out in the camp. The brothers Bridges never put any constraint upon the natives. They simply received them, gave them work and of course tried to eradicate bad customs, but never kept them against their will or tried to convert them. The result has been mutual satisfaction. Messrs. Bridges had cheap labourers and the natives felt happy with some regular work. Their number is said to be slowly increasing at present—a glorious exception to the rule.

Originally we intended to spend much more time in Tierra del Fuego studying the Indians. But we had been informed that the well-known anthropologist and ethnographer, Professor Lehmann-Nietsche of La Plata, had made extensive studies and Mr. Bridges told me that an American, Mr. Furlong, had visited him and made observations on the natives. Thus we had reason to shorten our stay in these parts.

Among the interesting information I got from Mr. Bridges there is one thing especially worthy of notice. This was the story of a fourth Indian tribe, hitherto not known to me. It was called Hush, and lived along the Straits of Le Maire. Probably it was a branch of the Ona people, perhaps originally a mixture of Ona and Yahgan, but had a language different from either of theirs and lived mainly on shell-fish and seal, wandering along the beach. Canoes were not used. There is no pure Hush left. In Harberton I saw an old man looking more like a Yahgan; his mother was of the Yahgan tribe. He had been married to a Hush woman, the last of her race, and was a widower; he had two unmarried daughters. They are the last of a small people that disappears without leaving any traces behind. We know nothing of their habits or of their language. Probably the Fuegians Darwin found in Good Success Bay belonged to this people.

We left Quensel in Harberton and continued east in spite of a falling barometer in order to try a landing in Slogget Bay. This place also had been visited by J. G. Andersson and is of importance for the determination of the age of the Cordillera. After having passed the woody Picton Island, we came out into open water. We got a gale of wind, and turned back to land on Picton, but had not gone far before the weather looked better again, so we started to run our old course. Slogget Bay is quite open to winds from south and east which often make landing impossible. Inside the point we saw a good landing-place, where two men soon appeared. We hurriedly got hold of some necessary things and rowed on shore. The two fellows were the only people left of the gold-digging company; one of them was in charge of the place and invited us to come to his house. We had an hour’s hard walk along the broken rocks covered by decaying seaweed, spreading a nauseous smell. The establishment looked very imposing: numerous buildings in two lines; near the mouth of a stream stood a large dredge; but no work was going on. The men were left to look after the place and keep the machinery from rusting. Still they did not know if the company was going to continue the work or not.

Gold has been found in many places in Tierra del Fuego. Nearly all rivers carry some though only in small quantities; and in several places in the loose coastal barranca the precious metal has been found. At such places at first very rich finds were made, but no one thought that these might be the result of the sea’s carrying down and washing the sand for thousands of years and thus would not believe that after the first rich harvest had been gathered, it would become much more difficult to get anything. The gold fever broke out, hundreds of people hastened there. In the parts where we were just now it was Slogget Bay and Lennox Island that attracted special attention. The gold deposits had been discovered by a certain engineer, Popper, famous in the history of Tierra del Fuego, a real conquistador on a small scale. At first people washed by hand and the yield was good. But the future was not quite so golden. One company after the other was formed and expensive machinery purchased. This was the end of it all; the best finds had already been made and worked and the result was not even sufficient to pay the expenses. How many companies were formed I do not know, but in Punta Arenas alone there were thirty. During our visit to Patagonia the newspapers almost every day contained the report of some “Sociedad aurifera” winding-up—only in name was it “aurifera.” When we left Punta Arenas to go home people had still some belief in the establishment of Lennox Island, and the descriptions we got from some shareholders sounded very promising. One thing we understood that quite as much money had been spent in fine dwelling-houses, electric light, hot and cold water in all bedrooms, &c.—as in Cutter Cove, which I am not inclined to consider a good omen for the future. The man in charge of Slogget, Mr. Dafonte, could tell beautiful stories of the administration of that company.

We started at once to look for the fossiliferous deposits, which we found just east of the bay, near a solitary rock rising like a fantastic obelisk out of the water some fifty yards from the shore. It is very narrow at the base and gradually widens upwards. There is a marine flora the like of which I had not seen since we were on the Falklands, and I secured a very rich harvest. Both Halle and I were very pleased with our visit, and I am sure that Mr. Dafonte enjoyed the change offered by strangers’ company. We returned to Harberton on the 17th to fetch Quensel and spend the night there. How comfortable I found myself in this truly English family! The conversation was about old times, when the old Antarctic was at anchor in the bay, and I had to tell all I knew about my comrades and promise to convey greetings to them all. I said good-bye to Harberton with great regret, and it would be a matter of great satisfaction to go there again.

In order to return the kindness of the Argentiners we went to Ushuaia and gave a dinner on board. The best of spirits prevailed in spite of the dispute between the two republics over the boundary farthest south, not settled by the Award. The Argentine experts had found out that the Beagle Channel as a boundary was all right, but the question was: where does the channel go to the extreme east? north or south of the Picton and New Islands? They insist that it goes south of these islands which should thus belong to Argentina.

When we left Ushuaia we had the most lovely weather, bringing out all the splendours of the Northwest Arm. Even Halle who is a great enthusiast for the Pampas expressed his admiration. The last night was spent in Puerto Edwards, a typical Fuegian cove on the south coast of the Brecknock peninsula. Without any adventure we rounded it, cast a last glance on the channel scenery that had become so familiar to us, and for the last time beheld the menacing silhouette of Cape Froward. Late in the evening, on March 20, we were back again in Punta Arenas.

Again I had to find out means of getting to Buenos Aires in the cheapest manner possible with all our bulky luggage. I went to the Argentine Consul, who told me that he had just purchased a steamer for his Government, and after some time it would proceed to Buenos Aires to be delivered to the authorities. I wired to the Minister of Marine and got his permission to use the steamer. But all this would have been quite unnecessary had I only got the telegrams waiting for me on my arrival. I got them the next day. There was an answer from the Argentine Government saying that, as there was no steamer running from Punta Arenas, cabins on the first Kosmos steamer passing were put gratuitously at our disposal. Of course we were very grateful for this new proof of Argentine generosity. Our luggage was brought up by the above-mentioned steamer, which carried nothing else.

On the 25th we went on board the fine steamer, the Thessalia, and in the most agreeable weather and company we left Punta Arenas for good, the town of iron-houses, gramophones and cocktails, but also of strenuous work and commercial industry. It was not without regret we saw it disappear. How much friendship, sympathy and assistance had we not met with there. To the very last moment the Consul, Mr. Manns, whose home was always open to us, helped us in every way, and thanks to him and all the others, too numerous to mention, we could look back on a Magellanic Expedition brought to a happy end. On the 30th we arrived in Montevideo, where the Consul, Mr. Rogberg, came on board to welcome us and took us round the town once more. The next morning we were in Buenos Aires.

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Already before we left Sweden Halle had made up a scheme to visit Rio Grande do Sul in Brazil before going back, in order to study certain deposits belonging to the Glossopteris-series that had been the object of his special attention during the journey.

I had planned another trip for Quensel and myself, a voyage to South Georgia, the remote island on the verge of the Antarctic Sea. I knew this island well enough, but had important reasons for a second visit, and Quensel very much wanted to see this supposed outpost of the Andes. Anyhow, it is closely connected with the region we had just left.

When in December 1903 the members of the Antarctic Expedition returned to Buenos Aires, rescued by the Argentine ship, the Uruguay, Captain Larsen who had got news of the Norwegian law against whaling was able to interest some people there to make a try south and later the “Compañia Argentina de Pesca” started. With the permission of Great Britain the company built a station on South Georgia and commenced work in 1905. We had generously been granted passages on one of the company’s vessels. The s.s. Cachalote was ready to sail when we came to Buenos Aires, and on April 2 we again left the metropolis of South America and the civilized world.