"Around the harbour are granite mountains, perfectly bare at their summits and north-western sides, but the lower parts are thickly covered in sheltered places and ravines, partly with trees, and partly with brushwood: among the trees growing here we observed, as usual, two kinds of beech, a tree like the cypress, but of small size, and the Winter's-bark. The underwood is composed of all the various shrubs we had met with in the Straits of Magalhaens; and this brushwood is so thickly spread over the lower parts of the shores of the harbour, that it is only by crawling over it that the distance of a few yards from the rocks can be gained; and being generally of insufficient strength to support a man's weight, it frequently gives way beneath him, and he is so completely buried, as to make it difficult for him to extricate himself.

"Scarcely any of the trees attain a size to render them fit for any thing but firewood; of those we felled there was scarcely one that was not more or less rotten at the heart, a defect probably caused by the extreme humidity of the climate.

"During our stay, the master, accompanied by our boatswain's mate,(f) an experienced sealer, went to take seal on the rocks, and returned in a few hours with some of the inferior sort, called 'hair seal,' which were numerous; but the surf was in most places too heavy to allow them to land without much risk. The fry of the young seals we thought extremely good, not exceeded even by the finest lamb's fry.

"On the morning of the 5th we worked to the westward, to clear the land on each side of the inlet; and at sunset, Capo Tres Puntas bore N.b.W. ½ W., distant two leagues. The northerly breeze, which we had worked with since leaving Port Henry, increased rapidly to a hard gale, and by 8 P.M. we were reduced to the close-reefed main-topsail and reefed foresail. The gale continued with unabated violence during the 6th, 7th, and 8th, from the north, N.W., and S.W., with a confused mountainous sea. Our decks were constantly flooded, and we could rarely show more than the close-reefed main-topsail and reefed foresail. Only two accidents occurred: the little boat which we carried astern was washed away by a heavy sea that broke over us, while hoisting her in-board; and the marine barometer was broken by the violent motion of the vessel. At noon, on the 8th, Cape Corso bore from us, by account, S.E. (true), distant fifty-five miles. I had tried to gain a wide offing to get a less turbulent sea, and because not even an outline of the sea-coast of Campana Island was drawn in the chart. We had not, during these three days, a glimpse of the sun or of a star, for it blew a constant gale, accompanied by squalls, thick weather, and rain. According to the time of year, the season of winter had not arrived, but the weather seemed to say it was already come—

Sullen and sad, with all it's rising train

Of vapours, clouds, and storms.

"The wind abated at daylight on the 9th, and drew to the southward, and thence to the S.E. (the fair weather quarter of this coast). We bore up to make the land, and at about 10 A.M. the 'loom' of it was seen from the mast-head. At noon, high mountains were visible from the deck; our latitude, by observation, was 48° 51′, and our longitude, by chronometer, 00° 27′ west of Port Henry. No soundings were obtained with one hundred and ten fathoms of line. Hence we steered east (magnetic) towards a remarkable mountain, which, from our being nearly in the parallel of it at noon, has been marked in the chart as Parallel Peak. The coast we were upon was that of the Island 'Campana,' and, in its general appearance, did not differ from that of Madre de Dios. It was late before we got very close to the land; but, for a couple of leagues to the northward, and about a league to the southward of the parallel of our latitude at noon, we could distinguish rocks and breakers skirting the coast to a distance of two leagues from the shore.

"At dusk we hauled off for the night; but instead of being able to resume the examination of the coast next morning, we had to encounter another gale of wind from the N.W., which, before noon, reduced us to close-reefed main-topsail and reefed foresail. This gale suddenly subsided in the western quarter, which was singular; for those we have experienced generally commenced at north, thence drew round to the westward, from which point to S.W. they blew with the greatest fury, and hauling to the southward, usually abated to the eastward of south.

"During the afternoon, we again made the land near Parallel Peak, but could not close it. Next morning (11th), with fine weather, and a fresh breeze at S.W.b.W., we once more saw the land about Parallel Peak; and when distant from the shore about eight miles, steered N.b.E. along the coast. At noon our latitude was 48° 47′.

"Throughout our run along the coast this day, we skirted a number of rocky islets, rocks, and breakers, lying off shore at the distance of three or four miles. Some of the islets were elevated several feet above the surface of the sea; others were a-wash, and there were breakers that showed themselves only occasionally. Along this line the surf beat very heavily, and, outside, a long rolling sea prevailed, in which the ship was very uneasy.

"This line of dangers is not altogether continuous; for there is an opening about two miles wide, abreast of Parallel Peak, to the southward of which is a bight, where possibly a harbour may exist; but, considering the prevalence of heavy westerly gales and thick weather, if there be one, few vessels would venture to run for it; and this line must, I should think, be considered as a barrier that they ought not pass. As seal are found on the rocks, vessels engaged in that trade might not, perhaps, be deterred by these dangers, but every other would give all this extent of coast a wide berth. We ran past the breakers at the distance of about a mile, having rocky soundings, from thirty to twenty-three fathoms.

"The termination of the coast line northward was a high, rugged island, with a small peak at the north end. The extremity of the main land was rather a high bluff cape, whence the coast extends southward, with craggy, mountainous peaks and ridges, as far as Parallel Peak. At sunset, the N.W. end of Campana bore north (magnetic), distant three leagues, and from the mast-head I could see very distinctly the belt of rocks and breakers extending uninterruptedly to the northward, as far as the end of Campana.

"We hauled off for the night, and had light variable airs, or calms, until 2 A.M. of the 12th, when a breeze from the northward sprung up, and freshened so rapidly, that by noon we were again reduced to a close-reefed main-topsail and foresail. The gale was accompanied, as usual, by incessant rain and thick weather, and a heavy confused sea kept our decks always flooded.

"The effect of this wet and miserable weather, of which we had had so much since leaving Port Famine, was too manifest by the state of the sick list, on which were now many patients with catarrhal, pulmonary, and rheumatic complaints. The gale continued undiminished until the morning of the 13th, when, having moderated, we bore up and steered N.E. to close the land. At noon a good meridional altitude gave our latitude 48° 30′ south, and about the same time we saw the land bearing N.E.b.E., which we soon made out to be Parallel Peak. After allowing amply for heave of sea, and lee-way, we were considerably southward of our reckoning, which indicates a southerly current; but under such circumstances of wind and weather its exact direction, or strength, could not be ascertained.

"We proceeded along the land, taking angles and bearings for the survey, and at sunset the N.W. end of Campana bore from us north (magnetic), distant five leagues. Being now off the N.W. end of the island of Campana, which forms the south-western headland of the Gulf of Peñas, I considered that, before I proceeded to examine its inlets, I ought to look for the Harbour of Santa Barbara, which has been placed on the old charts in this neighbourhood. Accordingly we lay-to during the night, and at 4 A.M. bore up to close the land; at daylight the extremes of it were seen indistinctly through a very cloudy and hazy atmosphere, from N. 39° E. to S. 53° E. About noon the weather cleared off, and we got the meridian altitude of the sun, which gave our latitude 48° 09′ south.[108] We directed the course for our Dundee Rock, and when abreast of it, steered N.E. (compass) for an opening in the low part of the coast ahead, backed by very high mountains, which we found was the entrance of Port Santa Barbara. The coast to the southward was lined with rocky islets, rocks, and breakers, extending a league to seaward, and there were others to the northward. We were in a channel half a mile wide, through which we continued our course, sounding from fifteen to eleven fathoms, and in the evening anchored near the entrance of the harbour.

"As our present situation was completely exposed to westerly winds, I went to examine a deep bight in the southern shore, which proved to be a good harbour, perfectly sheltered from all winds, with a depth of three and a half fathoms over a fine sandy bottom. In the afternoon we weighed anchor and warped into a berth in the inner harbour, where we moored in three fathoms. I found lying, just above high-water mark, half buried in sand, the beam of a large vessel.[109] We immediately conjectured that it had formed part of the ill-fated Wager, one of Lord Anson's squadron (of whose loss the tale is so well told in the narratives of Byron and Bulkeley): the dimensions seemed to correspond with her size, and the conjecture was strengthened by the circumstance that one of the knees that attached it to the ship's side had been cut, which occurred in her case, when her decks were scuttled to get at the provisions; all the bolts were much corroded; but the wood, with the exception of the outside being worm-eaten, was perfectly sound. Our carpenter pronounced it to be English oak.

"The land about this harbour is similar to that about Port Henry. Its shores are rocky, with some patches of sandy beach, but every where covered with trees, or an impervious jungle, composed of dwarfish trees and shrubs. The land, in most places, rises abruptly from the shore to mountains, some of which attain an altitude of more than two thousand feet, and are quite bare at their summits and on their sides, except in sheltered ravines, where a thick growth of trees is found. These mountains, or at least their bases, where we could break off specimens, were of basalt, with large masses of quartz imbedded in it; but on some parts of the shores the rocks were of very coarse granite.

"As in the vicinity of Port Henry, the thickness of the jungle prevented our going far inland; the greatest distance was gained by Lieut. Skyring, who, with his wonted zeal to prosecute the survey, ascended some of the mountains for the purpose of obtaining bearings of remote points: he remarked to me, 'that many miles were passed over in ascending even moderate heights; the land was very high and very irregular; the mountains seemed not to lie in any uniform direction, and the longest chain that was observed did not exceed five miles. The flat land between the heights was never two miles in extent: the ground was always swampy, and generally there were small lakes receiving the drainage of mountain-streams. Indeed the whole country appeared broken and unconnected.'

"Some of the mountains were ascertained to be 2,500 feet high, but the general height was about 2,000 feet. A large island, on the northern side of the harbour, is an excellent watering-place, at which casks may be conveniently filled in the boat. It is also an object of great natural beauty: the hill, which forms its western side, rises to seven or eight hundred feet, almost perpendicularly, and when viewed from its base in a boat, seems stupendous: it is clothed with trees, among which the light-green leaves of the Winter's-bark tree, and the red flowers of the Fuchsia, unite their tints with the darker foliage of other trees. This perpendicular part extends to the northward till it is met by the body of the mountain, which is arched into a spacious cavern, fifty yards wide and a hundred feet high, whose sides are clothed with a rich growth of shrubs; and before it a cascade descends down the steep face of the mountain.

"On the shore we found two Indian wigwams and the remains of a third; but they had evidently been long deserted, for the grass had grown up both around and within them to the height of more than a foot. These wigwams were exactly similar to those in the Strait of Magalhaens: one was larger than any I had met with, being eighteen feet in diameter. The only land birds I saw were two owls, which passed by us after dusk with a screeching noise.

"On the patches of sandy beach, in the inner harbour, we hauled the seine, but unsuccessfully; we expected to find fish plentiful here, from seeing many seals on the rocks outside, and from finding the water quite red with the spawn of crayfish. Muscles and limpets were pretty abundant, and the shells (Concholepas Peruviana) used by the Magalhaenic tribes as drinking cups, were found adhering to the rocks in great numbers.

"Nothing; could be worse than the weather we had during nine days' stay here; the wind, in whatever quarter it stood, brought thick heavy clouds, which precipitated themselves in torrents, or in drizzling rain. We were well sheltered from the regular winds; but many troublesome eddies were caused by the surrounding heights, while the passing clouds showed that strong and squally north-west winds were prevalent.

"On the morning of the 24th, we put to sea with a southerly breeze. The extent of coast from the eastern part of Port Santa Barbara to the outer of the Guaianeco Islands presents several inlets running deep into the land; but it is completely bound by rocks and rocky islets, which, with its being generally a lee-shore, renders it extremely unsafe to approach. Observing an opening between some islets, of which we had taken the bearing at noon, we stood in to see whether it afforded anchorage; and approaching the extremity of the larger island, proceeded along it at the distance of only half a mile, when, after running two miles through a labyrinth of rocks and kelp, we were compelled to haul out, and in doing so scarcely weathered, by a ship's length, the outer islet. Deeming it useless to expend further time in the examination of this dangerous portion of the gulf, we proceeded towards Cape Tres Montes, its north-western headland.

"At sunset Cape Tres Montes bore N. 25° W., distant eighteen miles. In this point of view the cape makes very high and bold; to the eastward of it, land was seen uninterruptedly as far as the eye could reach. We stood in shore next morning, and were then at a loss to know, precisely, which was the cape. The highest mountain was the southern projection, and has been marked on the chart as Cape Tres Montes: but none of the heights, from any point in which we saw them, ever appeared as 'three mounts.' The land, though mountainous, seemed more wooded, and had a less rugged outline than that we had been hitherto coasting, since leaving the Strait. We steered along the western coast of the land near Cape Tres Montes, and at noon, being three miles from the shore, observed, in latitude 46° 5. south, the cape, bearing N. 80° E. (mag.), distant seven miles. The northernmost cape in sight N. 26° W., distant ten miles, soundings ninety-seven fathoms. Shortly afterwards another cape opened at N. 37° W. (mag.).

"The parallel of forty-seven degrees, the limit assigned for our survey, being already passed, I did not venture to follow the coast further, although we were strongly tempted to do so by seeing it trend so differently from what is delineated on the old charts. An indentation in the coast presenting itself between mountainous projections on each side of low land (of which the northernmost was the cape set at noon), we hauled in to look for an anchorage; but it proved to be a mere unsheltered bight, at the bottom of which was a furious surf. We then stood to the southward, along the land of Cape Tres Montes, with the view of examining the north side of the Gulf of Peñas.

"The following morning was fine: Cape Tres Montes bore N.E., distant about three leagues. We lay off and on during the day, while the master went in the whale-boat, to examine a sandy bay (of which Cape Tres Montes was the easternmost point) for anchorage: he returned about sunset, and reported that it did afford anchorage; but was quite unsheltered from wind, and exposed to a great swell. The boat's crew had fallen in with a number of seals, and the quantity of young seal's fry they brought on board afforded a welcome regale to their mess-mates and themselves.

"At daylight (27th) we were four leagues from Cape Tres Montes, bearing N. 68° W. (magnetic) a remarkable peak, marked in the chart the 'Sugar Loaf,' N. 19° E., distant twenty-four miles, and our soundings were sixty-eight fathoms. This peak resembled in appearance, the Sugar Loaf at Rio de Janeiro: it rises from a cluster of high and thickly-wooded islands, forming apparently the eastern shore of an inlet, of which the land of Cape Tres Montes is the western head. Further to the N.E. stands a lofty and remarkable mountain, marked in our chart as 'the Dome of Saint Paul's.' It is seen above the adjacent high land. The height of the Sugar Loaf is 1,836 feet, and that of the Dome of Saint Paul's, 2,284 feet.

"During the day we worked up towards the land, eastward of Cape Tres Montes, and at night succeeded in anchoring in a sandy bay, nine miles from the Cape, where our depth of water was twelve fathoms, at the distance of a cable and a half off shore. We lay at this anchorage until noon the following day, while Lieut. Skyring landed on some low rocks detached from the shore, where he was able to take some advantageous angles; and on his return we weighed and worked up the gulf, between the eastern land of Cape Tres Montes, and high, well wooded islands. The shores of the main land, as well as of the islands, are bold, and the channel between them has no dangers: the land is in all parts luxuriantly wooded. About a mile and a half to the northward of the sandy beach which we had left, lies another, more extensive; and a mile further, a considerable opening in the main land, about half a mile wide, presented itself, having at its mouth two small thickly-wooded islands, for which we steered, to ascertain whether there was a harbour. The water was deep at its mouth, from thirty-eight to thirty-four fathoms; but the comparative lowness of the shores at its S.W. end, and the appearance of two sandy beaches, induced us to expect a moderate depth within. As we advanced, a long white streak was observed on the water, and was reported from the mast-head as a shoal; but it was soon ascertained to be foam brought down by the tide, and we had the satisfaction of anchoring in sixteen fathoms over a sandy bottom, in a very excellent port, which we named Port Otway, as a tribute of respect to the Commander-in-chief of the South American Station, Rear Admiral Sir Robert Waller Otway, K.C.B."



A deficiency here occurs in Captain Stokes's journal, which the Beagle's log barely remedies. From the 30th of April to the 9th of May there was a succession of stormy weather, accompanied by almost incessant and heavy rain, which prevented the ship being moved; but proved, in one respect, advantageous, by affording a very seasonable cessation from work to the fatigued crew, and obliging Captain Stokes to take some little rest, which he so much required; but regretted allowing himself, and submitted to most reluctantly. He continues his journal on the 9th of May, stating that, "Among the advantages which this admirable port presents to shipping, a capital one seems to be the rich growth of stout and shapely timber, with which its shores, even down to the margin of the sea, are closely furnished, and from which a frigate of the largest size might obtain spars large enough to replace a topmast, topsail-yard, or even a lower-yard. In order to try what would be the quality of the timber, if, in case of emergency, it were used in an unseasoned state, I sent the carpenter and his crew to cut two spars for a topgallant-mast and yard. Those they brought on board were of beech-wood; the larger being thirteen inches in diameter, and thirty feet in length.

"On the 10th, the weather having improved, the Beagle was moved to the head of the inlet, to an anchorage in Hoppner Sound, and on the 11th I went with Lieut. Skyring to examine the opening, off which we were anchored.

"On each side of it we found coves, so perfectly sheltered, and with such inexhaustible supplies of fresh water and fuel, that we lamented their not being in a part of the world where such advantages could benefit navigation. The depth of water in mid-channel was generally forty fathoms; in the bights, or coves, it varied from sixteen to twenty-five fathoms, with always a sandy bottom. We saw a great many hair seals, shoals of pie-bald porpoises, and birds of the usual kinds in considerable numbers. On several points of the shores were parts of the skeletons of whales; but we no where saw a four-footed animal, or the slightest trace of a human habitation. The unusual fineness of the morning, the smoothness of the water, and the proximity of the adjacent lofty mountains, clothed almost to their summits by the fullest foliage, with every leaf at rest, combined with the stillness around to give the scene a singular air of undisturbed repose. We reached the extremity of the inlet, which we found was about six miles from its mouth; and thinking that it was the inner shore of an isthmus, of no great width, curiosity prompted us to endeavour to see its outer shore: so we secured the boat, and accompanied by five of the boat's crew, with hatchets and knives to cut their way, and mark the trees to guide us on our way back, we plunged into the forest, which was scarcely pervious on account of its entangled growth, and the obstructions presented by trunks and branches of fallen trees.

"Our only guide was an occasional glimpse, from the top of a tree, of the ranges of mountains, by which we steered our course. However, two hours of this sort of work were rewarded by finding ourselves in sight of the great South Sea. It would be vain to attempt describing adequately the contrast to the late quiet scene exhibited by the view we had on emerging from this dark wood. The inlet where we left our boat resembled a calm and sequestered mountain lake, without a ripple on its waters: the shore on which we now stood was that of a horrid rock-bound coast, lashed by the awful surf of a boundless ocean, impelled by almost unceasing west winds.

"Our view of the coast was limited on each side by rocky mountainous promontories: off the northernmost, which I called Cape Raper, were rocks and breakers, extending nearly a mile to seaward. Having taken the few bearings our situation enabled us to obtain, we retraced our steps to the boat, and by aid of the marks we had left on the trees, reached her in an hour and forty-three minutes.

"Some of the beech-trees of this wood were fifteen feet in circumference; but I noticed none differing in their kind from those already observed about Port Otway. A few wrens were the only living creatures we saw; not even an insect was found in our walk. In the beds of some of the streams intersecting the woods was a singularly sparkling sand, which had so much the appearance of gold, that some of our party carried a bag-full on board to be tested. The shining substance proved to be, as I had supposed, the micaceous particles of disintegrated granite. It was not our good fortune to discover streams similar to those sung of by the poet,

"Whose foam is amber, and whose gravel gold."



CHAPTER XI.

Leave Port Otway—San Quintin's Sound—Gulf of Peñas—Kelly Harbour—St. Xavier Island—Death of Serjeant Lindsey—Port Xavier—Ygnacio Bay—Channel's mouth—Bad weather—Perilous situation—Lose the yawl—Sick list—Return to Port Otway—Thence to Port Famine—Gregory Bay—Natives—Guanaco meat—Skunk—Condors—Brazilians—Juanico—Captain Foster—Changes of officers.

The Beagle returned to Port Otway the following day, and in an interval of better weather obtained the observations necessary for ascertaining the latitude and longitude of the port, and for rating the chronometers.

Captain Stokes's journal continues on the 19th of May: "We left Port Otway, and as soon as we had cleared its entrance, steered E.N.E. across the gulf; leaving to the northward all that cluster of islands, distinguished in the chart as the 'Marine Islands,' and went to within a mile from the eastern shore. Thence we ran four miles and a half parallel with the direction of coast E.S.E. (mag.), at the mean distance of a mile off shore. The aspect of the eastern and western portions of this gulf is very different, and the comparison is much to the disadvantage of the eastern. Ranges of bare, rugged, rocky mountains now presented themselves, and where wood was seen, it was always stunted and distorted. A long swell rolled in upon the shore, and every thing seemed to indicate a stormy and inclement coast. There are a few bays and coves, in which is anchorage depth, with a pretty good bottom of dark coarse sand: but rock-weed in large patches, seen in some of them, denoted foul ground; and they are all more or less exposed, and extremely unsafe. As night advanced, the weather became rainy and thick; so having reached a bight which seemed less insecure than others that we passed, I hauled in, and at about seven P.M., guided only by the gradual decrease of our soundings, from fourteen to eight fathoms, and the noise of the surf, came to an anchor.

"Next morning (20th) we found that we had anchored in a small bay, at about half a mile from a shingle beach, on which a furious surf was breaking so heavily as to prevent our landing any where. We were completely exposed to S.W. winds, with a heavy rolling sea; and the surf on all points cut off communication with the shore. A breeze from the S.W. would have rendered it difficult to get out, and would have exposed us to imminent hazard. It is called on the chart Bad Bay. We left it eagerly, and proceeded to trace the coast to the E.S.E., until we were nearly abreast of a moderately high and thickly-wooded island, called Purcell Island. We passed to the northward of Purcell Island, leaving on the left a rock only a few feet above the surface of the sea, which lies about midway between that island and the main land. As we advanced to the eastward, a large and very remarkable field of ice was seen lying on the low part of the coast, which, at a distance, we took for a dense fog hanging over it, as nothing of the kind was observable in any other part. When nearly abreast of San Xavier Island, a deep sound was observed to the left, or north, which we concluded was the San Quintin Sound of the Spanish chart: it seemed to be about five-miles in breadth, and following a westerly direction. We kept sight of the Sugar Loaf, and other points we had fixed, until more could be established, which enabled us to chart the coast as we went along. My next object was to trace the Sound of San Quintin to its termination, and at nightfall we succeeded in getting an anchorage at the entrance.

"On the 21st we proceeded up the sound, passing to the northward of Dead Tree Island. Our soundings, until abreast of it, were from sixteen to ten fathoms, on a mud bottom; it then shoaled to four fathoms, and after running about three miles in that depth, we came to an anchor at the distance of a mile from the north shore of the sound, in four fathoms.

"Exceedingly bad weather detained us at this anchorage. From the time of our arrival, on the evening of the 21st, until midnight of the 22d, it rained in torrents, without the intermission of a single minute, the wind being strong and squally at W., W.N.W., and N.W.

"When the weather improved, on the 23d, we weighed, and made sail along the northern side of the sound, for the purpose of ascertaining whether it admitted of a passage to the northward. We kept within a mile of the shore, sounding from eight to fifteen fathoms, generally on a sandy bottom; and a run of seven miles brought us within three miles of the bottom of the inlet, the depth of water being four fathoms, on sand. The termination of this sound is continuous low land, with patches of sandy beach, over which, in the distance, among mountains of great height, we were again able to make out and take the bearing of that remarkable one, named the 'Dome of St. Paul's.' The shores of this inlet are thickly wooded; the land near them is, for the most part, low, but rises into mountains, or rather hills, from twelve to fifteen hundred feet in height, from which many streams of water descend. As soon as a ship has passed Dead Tree Island, she becomes land-locked; and as in all parts of the sound there is anchorage depth, with a muddy or sandy bottom, the advantages offered to shipping would be of great consequence in parts of the world more frequented than the Gulf of Peñas.

"Whales were numerous, and seals were seen in this inlet, now called the Gulf of San Estevan.

"Hence we went to Kelly Harbour, at the north-eastern side of the Gulf of Peñas, four miles N.E. of Xavier Island. The land around it is rocky and mountainous, but by no means bare of wood. Near the entrance it is low, as compared with the adjacent land; but in the interior are lofty snow-capped mountains.

"A large field of ice, lying on the low land near Kelly Harbour, was remarkable. There was none on the low grounds at the other (southern) side of the port, though it was almost the winter solstice at the time of our visit.

"Another day and night of incessant rain. In the morning of the 25th we had some showers of hail, and at daylight found that a crust of ice, about the thickness of a dollar, had been formed in all parts of the harbour. The water at our anchorage being fresh at half-tide, was, no doubt, in favour of this rapid congelation. Lieutenant Skyring having completed the examination of the harbour, we left it and steered between St. Xavier Island and the mainland, through a fine bold channel, nearly four miles wide, with a depth of more than thirty fathoms. The land on both sides is closely wooded, and rises into high mountains. About dusk we stood into Port Xavier, a little bight, with a sandy beach, on the eastern side of the island; and, at a distance of two cables' length from the beach, anchored for the night in seventeen fathoms.

"(26th). This sandy beach extended about half a mile between the points of the bay, and, at fifty yards from the water, was bounded by thick woodland, which rose with a rapid ascent to the height of a thousand feet. The trees were like those in the neighbourhood of Port Otway, and were stout and well-grown. A tree, large enough for a frigate's topmast, might be selected close to the shore. The Winter's-bark tree attains here a greater size than I had before seen. One, which was felled by our wood-cutters, measured eighty-seven feet in length, and was three feet five inches in circumference. All the trees were in full foliage and verdure, though the season corresponded to the latter part of November in our northern latitudes. At the south end of the sandy beach was a stream of fresh water, several yards in width, and various waterfalls descended from the mountains. The shore to the southward was composed of fragments of granite, lying at the base of a lead-coloured clay cliff, at least three hundred feet in height. In this cliff the mountain-torrents had formed deep chasms, and strewed the beach with its débris, and with uprooted timber. The only living creatures seen were steamer-ducks, king-fishers, and turkey-buzzards.

"While on shore, I received a melancholy message, announcing the death of Serjeant Lindsey, of the Royal Marines. During the last few days he had suffered from inflammation of the bowels, which brought his existence to a close.

"The following day (27th) a grave was dug, and we discharged the last sad duties to our departed shipmate. A wooden cross was erected at the head of his grave, on which was an inscription to his memory: we also named the south point of the bay after him. About noon we left Port Xavier, and coasted the island, at the mean distance of a mile, examining it for anchorages, until, after a run of eight miles, we reached its south point. For the first four or five miles of that distance, the coast of the island consisted of a high steep cliff, having at its base a narrow beach, composed of various-sized masses of rock. In the interior there were heights, rising twelve or fourteen hundred feet, wooded nearly to the summits, with many streams of water descending from them; but for the remainder of the distance the coast was low, and the wood stunted and scanty. All along the shore rolled a heavy surf, that would have rendered any attempt to land exceedingly hazardous; there was no place fit for anchorage, except a small bight, near the extreme south point, into which we stood, and with some difficulty succeeded in anchoring at a cable's length from the shore. The bay proved to be that called by the Spanish missionary voyagers 'Ygnacio Bay.' Over the south point,—a narrow tongue of land, about five hundred yards across, with rocks and breakers stretching off shore, to the distance of two miles,—we took bearings and angles to various fixed points in the northern part of the gulf. The latitude, chronometric differences of longitude, and magnetic variation, were determined on shore at this southern point.

"Our observations being completed, we left this anchorage; and as it is little likely to be visited again, it will be enough to say that it is exceedingly dangerous. Nothing would have induced me to enter it, but the duty of examining the coast for anchorage, and the danger of remaining under sail close to an unexplored shore.

"Under an impression that the island of St. Xavier[110] was the scene of the Wager's wreck, I wished to examine its western side; but a strong N.N.E. wind did not permit my doing so, without risking the loss of more time than could be spared for an object of mere curiosity. I steered, therefore, to the south-eastward for an inlet, which proved to be the Channel's Mouth of the Spanish charts, and reached it, after running seventeen miles from the south end of Xavier Island. We got no soundings with ninety fathoms of line, when at its entrance; but making no doubt that we should get anchorage within, we left, at the distance of half a mile, the islets of the northern point; passed between two others distant apart only one-fifth of a mile, and shortly after anchored in twenty fathoms, sheltered by an island to the westward, but with rocky islets around us in all directions, except the S.E., some of which were less than a cable's length from us.[111] Here we were detained until the 10th of June by the worst weather I ever experienced: we rode with three anchors down and the topmasts struck; and though we lay within a couple of hundred yards of the islands and rocks, and less than half a mile from the shores of the inlet, such a furious surf broke on them all, that it was but rarely a boat could land, even in the least exposed situations the inlet afforded. The evening of our arrival was fine, and we put up the observatory tent, on the island to the westward of us; but the weather was so bad, during the next day, that we could effect no landing to remove it, although we anticipated the result that followed, namely, its being washed away.

"In the short intervals of the horrible weather that prevailed, boats were sent to the northern shore of the inlet, for the purpose of procuring water and fuel; but though they sometimes succeeded, by dint of great perseverance, in landing through a raging surf, it was but seldom they could embark the small casks (barecas) which had been filled, or the wood they had cut.

"Upon this shore the master observed remains of some Indian wigwams, that seemed to have been long forsaken, and he described them to be exactly like those we had hitherto met to the southward.

"This was the northernmost point at which we noticed traces of human beings.

"Finding the boats' crews suffer much from their unavoidable exposure during continually wet weather, I ordered some canvas to be given to each man for a frock and trowsers, to be painted at the first opportunity, as a protection against rain and spray.

"Nothing could be more dreary than the scene around us. The lofty, bleak, and barren heights that surround the inhospitable shores of this inlet, were covered, even low down their sides, with dense clouds, upon which the fierce squalls that assailed us beat, without causing any change: they seemed as immovable as the mountains where they rested.

"Around us, and some of them distant no more than two-thirds of a cable's length, were rocky islets, lashed by a tremendous surf; and, as if to complete the dreariness and utter desolation of the scene, even birds seemed to shun its neighbourhood. The weather was that in which (as Thompson emphatically says) 'the soul of man dies in him.'

"In the course of our service since we left England, we have often been compelled to take up anchorages, exposed to great risk and danger. But the Beagle's present situation I deemed by far the most perilous to which she had been exposed: her three anchors were down in twenty-three fathoms of water, on a bad bottom of sand, with patches of rock. The squalls were terrifically violent, and astern of her, distant only half a cable's length, were rocks and low rocky islets, upon which a furious surf raged.

"I might use Bulkeley's words in describing the weather in this neighbourhood, and nearly at this season: 'Showers of rain and hail, which beat with such violence against a man's face, that he can hardly withstand it.'

"On the 10th, the wind being moderate, and the weather better, preparations were made to quit this horrid place. We put to sea, with a moderate breeze from N.b.W., which increased rapidly to a strong gale; and scarcely were we fairly freed from the channel, than we found ourselves in a heavy confused sea. Anxious to clear the entrance, I had not waited to hoist in the yawl, with which we had weighed one of our anchors, expecting to find smooth water as we went out; but the sea we met made it unsafe to tow her, and while hauling up to hoist her in, she was so badly stove by blows received from the violent motion of the ship, that we were obliged to cut her adrift. This was a heavy loss. She was a beautiful boat, twenty-eight feet in length,—pulled and sailed well, and was roomy, light, and buoyant; her loss was second only to that of the ship.

"We endeavoured to clear the Guaianeco Islands, by carrying a heavy press of sail, but soon after midnight were obliged to furl the reefed mainsail. Before daylight the wind shifted suddenly to W.b.N., taking us aback by a violent squall, with much vivid lightning and heavy rain. Our admirable little vessel paid off without sustaining any damage; but for a minute her situation was critical. At daylight, the land of Cape Tres Montes bore W. ½ N. (magnetic), distant four leagues. The violence of the gale we had just had put it out of our power to clear the gulf; and, from the state to which we were reduced by the loss of our yawl, both gigs being in bad condition, and our cutter so much stove as to be useless, I considered that it would not be justifiable to attempt proceeding in a lone ship to an unknown and most stormy coast, without a single efficient boat; so I resolved to hasten to Port Otway, and put the boats into an effective state. We had baffling winds all day; but in the evening succeeded in reaching the harbour, and anchoring nearly in our old berth. On the 13th and 14th, we had a continued hard gale, with the usual accompaniment of heavy rain. The carpenters were, however, kept constantly at work to render the cutter effective. On the 15th, the state of the sick list caused me to require from the surgeon, his opinion as to the 'necessity of a temporary cessation of surveying operations.' Mr. Bynoe's reply stated 'that in consequence of great exposure to a long-continued succession of incessant and heavy rain, accompanied by strong gales, the health of the ship's company had been seriously affected, particularly with pulmonic complaints, catarrhal, and rheumatic affections; and that, as a recurrence of them would probably prove fatal in many instances, a temporary cessation would be of the greatest advantage to the crew, by affording an opportunity of recruiting their health.'

"On receiving the above communication from the surgeon, I ordered the yards and topmasts to be struck, and the ship covered over with sails. Precaution was used to prevent the people from being subjected to frequent exposure, by not employing any of them in boats, except once a day in procuring muscles, and every thing was avoided that could in the least interfere with the recovery of their health: but this place is exceedingly ill adapted for the winter quarters of a ship's company, as the woods that surround it, down even to the water's edge, allow no space for exercise on shore, and there is neither game nor fish to be procured, except shell-fish; of which, fortunately (muscles and clams), we found an abundance, and they proved useful in removing symptoms of scurvy, besides affording a change of diet. The place being destitute of inhabitants, is without that source of recreation, which intercourse with any people, however uncivilized, would afford a ship's company after a laborious and disagreeable cruise in these dreary solitudes. Every port along this coast is alike ill suited for a winter's residence, and it was only our peculiar situation that induced me to determine on making a short stay at this place."



Here poor Captain Stokes's remarks and notes end. Those who have been exposed to one of such trials as his, upon an unknown lee shore, during the worst description of weather, will understand and appreciate some of those feelings which wrought too powerfully upon his excitable mind.

The Beagle remained quiet until the 29th of June, when the surgeon reported "the crew sufficiently healthy to perform their duties without any material injury to their constitutions." Leaving Port Otway, she steered along the coast with, strange to say, easterly winds and fine weather, which enabled Lieut. Skyring to add much to the survey of the coast of Madre de Dios. Captain Stokes now began to show symptoms of a malady, that had evidently been brought on by the dreadful state of anxiety he had gone through during the survey of the Gulf of Peñas. He shut himself up in his cabin, becoming quite listless, and inattentive to what was going on; and after entering the Strait of Magalhaens, on his return to Port Famine, he delayed at several places without any apparent reason; conduct quite opposite to what his would naturally have been, had he then been of sound mind. At last, want of provisions obliged him to hasten to Port Famine; and the day on which he arrived every article of food was expended.

The fatal event, which had cast an additional gloom over every one, decided our quitting the Strait. Both ships were immediately prepared, and we sailed on the 16th August; but previously, I appointed Lieutenant Skyring to act as commander of the Beagle; Mr. Flinn to be master of the Adventure; and Mr. Millar, second master of the Adventure, to act as master of the Beagle. The day we sailed, Mr. Flinn was taken ill; and, Lieutenant Wickham being on the sick list, I was the only commissioned officer able to keep the deck. As the wind was from the N.W., we were obliged to beat to windward all night, and the next morning were off Sandy Point; but it blew so very strong from the westward, and the weather was so thick from snow-squalls, which passed in rapid succession, that we bore up, and anchored in Freshwater Bay, where the ships were detained by northerly winds until the 21st, when we proceeded; the wind, however, again opposing, we anchored about half a mile from the shore, in a bight, seven miles southward of Sandy Point. The following day we were underweigh early, and reached Gregory Bay. When off Elizabeth Island, I despatched the Beagle to Pecket's Harbour to recall the Adelaide, in which Lieutenant Graves had been sent to procure guanaco meat. The Beagle worked through, between Elizabeth Island and Cape Negro, and was seen by us at anchor off Pecket's Harbour before we entered the Second Narrow.

Upon our anchoring under Cape Gregory, two or three Patagonians were seen on the beach, and before half an hour had elapsed others joined them. By sunset several toldos, or tents, were erected, and a large party had arrived. When the Adelaide first went to Pecket's Harbour, Mr. Tarn told the Indians that the Adventure would be at Gregory Bay in twenty-five days, and, accidentally, we arrived punctually to the time. The Patagonians must have been on their way to meet us, for they could not have travelled from Pecket's Harbour in the short space of time that we were in sight. To their great mortification, however, we held no communication with them that evening, and the next day the weather was so bad we could not even lower a boat. At noon the wind blew harder than I had ever witnessed; but since we were on good holding-ground, and the water was smooth, no danger was anticipated.

As the snow-squalls cleared off, we looked towards the Patagonians, with the full expectation of seeing their huts blown down:—to our astonishment, they had withstood the storm, although placed in a very exposed situation. We counted twelve or fourteen of them, and judging by our former experience of the number belonging to each, there must have been, at least, one hundred and fifty persons collected. During the gale they kept close; and it was only now and then that a solitary individual was observed to go from one toldo to another.

The weather having moderated, the Beagle and Adelaide joined us on the following day. They rode the gale out, without accident, off the entrance of Pecket's Harbour. The next morning being fine, we prepared to proceed; but previous to weighing I landed, and communicated with our old acquaintances. Maria was with them, and, if possible, dirtier, and more avaricious than ever. We collected the guanaco meat they had brought for us; distributed a few parting presents, and then returned on board.

The Adelaide brought sixteen hundred pounds of meat, which, with what was first obtained, amounted to four thousand pounds weight; and cost altogether ten pounds of tobacco, forty biscuits, and six pocket-knives. At first a biscuit was considered equivalent to forty or fifty pounds of meat; but as the demand increased, the price rose four or five hundred per cent. With the Patagonians were two of Mr. Low's crew, who had left him. They were Portuguese, in a miserable state, and appeared to be thoroughly ashamed of being the companions of such a dirty set: they could not speak English, and could give us very little information. They had not then assumed the Indian garb, although, from the state of their clothes, they would very soon be obliged to adopt it.

At Pecket's Harbour a few words of the native language were collected, which are very different from those given by Falkner, in his description of the Patagonian natives: he says himself, that the language of the northern Indians differs materially from that of the 'Yacana Cunnees.'

During Lieutenant Graves's communication with the natives, at Pecket's Harbour, he obtained some interesting information respecting these Indians, which will be given in a subsequent part of the work.

The Adelaide brought me a few very gratifying additions to my zoological collection, among which was the Zorillo, or Skunk, of the Pampas; differing in no way whatever from the species found about the River Plata, in such numbers as to impregnate the air with their disagreeable odour for many miles around.

I have frequently found the scent of this offensive little animal distinctly perceptible when I was on board the Adventure, lying at anchor about two miles from Monte Video, with the wind blowing from the land.[112]

A very large condor was shot by one of the Adelaide's party, which measured, in length, four feet three inches and a half, and nine feet two inches between the extremities of the wings. It was presented to the British Museum. Many exaggerated accounts of this bird have been given by old voyagers; but the largest dimensions stated, of whose accuracy there exists no doubt, are those of one that was preserved in the Leverian Museum, which measured thirteen feet one inch, from wing to wing. This, however, must have been an old bird; for the one we killed is larger than the usual size of specimens which have been obtained. Molina states, in his account of this bird, vol. i. p. 298, that the largest he ever saw measured fourteen feet and some inches (Spanish measure), from the tip of one wing to that of the other. M. Humboldt also gives a detailed description.

It is with the condor, says this celebrated voyager, "as with the Patagonian, and many other objects of natural history; the more they are examined, the more they diminish in size." They inhabit the highest mountains of the Andes, and only descend to the plains when pressed by hunger. Frequently, in troops, they attack cattle, deer, guanacoes, and even the puma, and always succeed in killing them; but their principal food is carrion, of which, in a country so abundantly stocked with quadrupeds, there is probably no want.

Our departure from the Strait was attended with beautiful weather; the moon was full, and the wind fair and moderate. Cape Virgins was passed soon after sunset, and we proceeded on our course with rapidity.

The timely supply of guanaco meat had certainly checked the scurvy, for we had no new cases added to the number of the sick, now amounting to twenty. The Beagle was not so sickly; but, during the last cruise, upwards of forty cases, principally pulmonic, had occurred, and several were not yet recovered. On the passage, a man fell overboard from the Beagle, at night, and was drowned.

In latitude 45° S. we were delayed three days, by northerly winds and damp foggy weather, after which a fresh S.W. gale carried us into the River Plata. Having obtained good chronometer sights in the afternoon, we steered on through the night, intending to pass to the westward of the Archimedes Shoal; which would have been rather a rash step, had we not been well assured of the correctness of our chronometrical reckoning. At this time Brazil and Buenos Ayres were at war, and some of the blockading squadron of the former were generally to be met with in the mouth of the river; but we saw none, until half-past two in the morning, when several vessels were observed at anchor to leeward, and we were soon close to a squadron of brigs and schooners, whose number was evident by a confusion of lights, rockets, and musketry, on board every vessel. I bore down to pass within hail of the nearest, which proved to be the Commodore's, the Marañao of eighteen guns; and on approaching, explained who and what we were; but they were so confused, I could not even make myself understood. The breeze, at the time, had fallen so light, that, fearing to get foul of the brig, the ship was hove up in the wind, and the anchor ordered to be let go. Unluckily a stopper was foul, and before another bower could drop, the Brazilians had fired several muskets into us, happily without doing any mischief; and threatened us, if we did not immediately anchor, with a broadside, which, in their utter confusion, I am astonished they did not fire.