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Patagonia Bookshelf

Tierra del Fuego: Of Sailors and Savages (1851—1900)
Contacts between ships and natives groups, as reported in the English-language press

CITY OF EDINBURGH  [1810]

(Note: Text dealing with natives is displayed with a contrasting background colour.)

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF A NONOGENARIAN [sic] —continued.
BEING A SERIES OF AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES WRITTEN BY THE LATE MR. ALEXANDER BERRY WHEN HE WAS UPWARD OF NINETY YEARS OF AGE.
CHAPTER VI.

[…] After the ship was ready we took a final departure from New Zealand, and sailed therefrom (as I think) on the 26th of January, 1810. From what I had heard from some ships I was in great hopes that my cargo of spars would find a good market at the Cape of Good Hope, for they were then much wanted there for the British Navy. But fate had not ordained that they should ever reach the Cape.

The early part of the voyage was favourable, but when we were near Cape Horn we encountered a fearful storm, which blew our sails to pieces. Some time after a heavy sea struck the stern of the ship, and knocked away the rudder, after which we lay like a hulk upon the water at the mercy of the winds and waves. For a fortnight we never saw the sun, and did not know where we had drifted to. We, however, contrived to construct a makeshift rudder, and fastened it with ropes. One afternoon the weather moderated, and we saw that the colour of the water changed — an indication that we were nearing land. About sunset the sky cleared up for a few minutes, and we saw the tops of the mountains of Terra del Fuego, but could not see the shore. About this time we found that the pumps were choked, and that we could not pump the ship.

[…Two days later] Next day it blew so strong that it was impossible to weigh anchor. A boat was, however, despatched with an officer to endeavour to discover some sheltered nook where we might anchor the vessel.

The stormy weather continued for several days, rendering it impossible, or dangerous, to attempt to weigh the anchor. After some days the mate returned and informed us that he could find no safe anchorage, and had been unable to return because the weather was so stormy. He had only time to take some refreshment when a sailor came and said, " The ship is adrift." In those days ships had only hempen cables, and the rocks had cut the cables. The mate asked me what he should do with the ship. I replied, "Keep her afloat."

Here was the dismantled ship without rudder or anchors, in the midst of an unknown archipelago of islands in Terra del Fuego, one of the most stormy and dreary countries in the world.

For some days we drifted about at the mercy of the tides and currents; but fortunately the weather proved moderate, and at length we were able to fasten the ship to the rocks, although in a rather exposed situation. Hitherto we had seen no signs of natives, but one morning we observed some in several canoes made of bark. The head man rose in one of the canoes, held up something white, and approached the ship, culling out, " Pickeray ! Pickeray ! " The canoes were ballasted with some earth on which they had a fire. The poor little shivering natives were clothed with sealskins, fastened to their bodies in the most artless and simple manner. They had no food in their canoes but some large mussels which were plentiful on the rocks, They struck fire with large lumps of copper pyrites, and when asked where they got it, they pointed to the mountains. I had no chemical tests, but I roasted some of it and afterwards put it in vinegar, which on being applied to the blade of a knife covered it with copper.

The mussels alluded to were very large, but the outsides of the shells were generally corroded, and were full of ill-coloured and ill-shaped pearls.

These natives, after exchanging some pieces of sealskin and other trifles with the sailors, took their leave. The old native women were the dealers, and they had plenty of tongue.

By-and-bye, I discovered a small, snug, sheltered, nook, where there was deep water, close to a perpendicular rock ; there being also plenty of trees and a thick bush for about 200 yards above the high-water mark. The vessel was immediately removed to this shelter; and fortunate it was that we did so remove her, for the same night a fearful gale of wind took place, but we were so perfectly secure that we did not feel a breath of it. Amongst the trees I found plenty of the winter's bark, which resembles sassafras. I used it myself, and recommended it to the people.

One day I went alone to the top of the mountain. Above the narrow border of trees there was nothing but rock ; not a particle of soil, and the rocks every-where smoothed and polished with the rains. There was neither bird nor insect, nor any sign of animal life. And as far as the eye could reach, the same picture of desolation presented itself.

In our sheltered nook we improved our make-shift rudder, and repaired our sails, and other damages, as far as our means permitted.

I had heard, from some ship in New Zealand, that there had been a revolution in Spain, and that England and Spain were now friends ; but this was doubtful, as I had seen no newspaper. I had, however, read Lord Byron's narrative, who describes the kind reception which the Chilians had given to him and Captain Cheap after the wreck of the Wager — one of Lord Anson's fleet — and I therefore determined, if possible, to take refuge on the coast of Chile.

Fortunately, I had in my possession Frezian's voyage to the West Coast of South America translated by Dr. Halley. He was a French officer of engineers, who had been sent clandestinely by the French Government to survey the Coast of Chile and Peru during the war of succession, and his book contains plans of the principal ports.

When leaving "Preservation Harbour," or rather Nook, we had another visit from the same tribe of Fuegians who had formerly visited us. On getting out of our nook the ship got entangled in a float of the ficus giganteus, and some of the stems got between the rudder and the stern post, and prevented the motion of the ship. Wo sent a boat to cut them away, and the poor natives came in their canoes to assist us. They had no knives to cut the stems, but they began to bite them across with their teeth.

With some difficulty we got safely out of the bay, and proceeded on our voyage to the northward. It must have been about the time of the autumnal equinox, and we experienced a succession of storms ; the winds being generally from the north-east, with hazy weather. This rendered our voyage very tedious, and the storms repeatedly displaced our makeshift rudder. From such a protracted voyage our provisions began to run short, and I wished to reduce the rations; but all hands opposed it so much that I was obliged to succumb.

Some time after, most of the crew came and insisted that the ship should be run ashore on the coast of Patagonia, and on my refusal they refused to work any longer, and went below. The officers and a few of the men continued to work as usual, and the mutineers seeing this, returned to their duty next day.[…]