Narrative of the Voyage of H.M.S. Rattlesnake, Commanded By the Late Captain Owe - Volume 1 by John MacGillivray (book recommendations for teens .txt) 📕

its successor.

Signed: F. BEAUFORT,

HYDROGRAPHER.

...

SAIL FROM PLYMOUTH.

The Rattlesnake left Spithead on December 3rd, and on the 11th took her final departure from Plymouth, which place we had called at to complete her fittings, swing the ship a second time to ascertain the amount of local attraction, and receive some specie for the Cape of Good Hope and the Mauritius. Being favoured by strong northerly winds, we reached Madeira on December 18th, after a quick, but most uncomfortable passage; during the greater part of which the main and lower decks were partially flooded, owing to the inefficiency of the scuppers, and the leaky state of nearly every port and scuttle in the ship.

ARRIVE AT MADEIRA.

December 20th.

The scenery of Madeira has been so often described by voyagers, who, from Cook downwards, have made it the first stage in their circumnavigation of the globe, as to render superfluous more than a few passing allusions. When near enough to distinguish the minor features of the island, the terraced slopes of the mountainsides converted into vineyards and gardens studded with the huts of the peasantry, presented a pleasing aspect to visitors, whom a week's sailing had brought from the snow-clad shores of England. Here and there a whitewashed chapel or picturesque villa lent a charm to the scenery by contrasting strongly with the patches of green upon the slopes, the deep blue of the ocean, and the delicate white of the ever-changing clouds of mist which rolled incessantly along, while the rugged summit of the island, and the deep ravines radiating towards the coast-range of precipitous cliffs, gave an air of wildness to the scene.

FUNCHAL.

The town of Funchal, said to contain about 25,000 inhabitants, is situated upon the slope of an amphitheatre of hills, behind the only anchorage of the island. The finest view is obtained from the balcony of a church dedicated to Nossa Senhora de Monte, situated at a considerable elevation above the town. Here one looks down upon the numerous quintas and cottages of the suburbs embosomed in gardens and vineyards, the orange groves and clumps of chestnut trees, the snow-white houses of Funchal with its churches and public buildings, the citadel frowning over the town, the calm waters of the bay with the vessels at anchor gently heaving to and fro on the long westerly swell, the Ilheo rock and batteries, the bold headlands, and the dim outline of the distant Desertas. Some of the streets are pleasantly shaded by rows of plane-trees (Platanus occidentalis). Several deep ravines passing through the town are carefully walled in, to prevent damage being done by the torrents which occasionally sweep down the mountain, carrying everything before them. From the steepness of the narrow roads and streets, wheeled vehicles can scarcely be used, and sledges drawn by small bullocks supply their place, while the wine, the chief article of export, is conveyed into the town in goat-skins carried on the shoulder.

VISIT TO CURRAL.

December 23rd.

Few strangers remain long in Madeira without paying a visit to the Curral, and a large party of us left the ship for that purpose this morning. At first the road led through a series of narrow lanes frequently separated from the fields and vineyards on either side by hedges of roses, honeysuckle, jasmine and fuchsias; now and then passing under successions of trellis-work covered by the vines when in full vigour, and then forming long shady vistas. For several miles we wound our way along the hillsides, down deep ravines, and up steep rocky slopes. In spite of the ruggedness of the path, our horses progressed with wonderful alacrity, although occasionally impeded by the additional weight of the attendant burroqueros holding on by the tail, and laughing at our efforts to dislodge them. On reaching the shoulder of one of the hills, we found the ravines and valleys below us filled with dense mist. Here, at an elevation of 2500 feet, a species of spruce-like pine appeared to thrive well. The path, which at times is not more than three feet wide, now winds along the sides of the mountain with many sharp turnings; heading numerous ravines, the frightful nature of which was partially concealed by the obscurity of the mist.

We halted at the Pass of the Curral, to which Captain Stanley's barometrical observations* assign an elevation of 2700 feet above the sea. Shortly afterwards the mist gradually dissolved, unveiling the magnificent scenery below and around. The Curral gives one the idea of a vast crater** of irregular form, surrounded by a rugged wall (upwards of a thousand feet in height) of grey weather-beaten rock cut down into wild precipices, intersected by ravines and slopes of debris mixed up with masses of crumbling rock, and towering upwards into fantastic peaks. A winding path leads to the bottom-a small fertile valley watered by a streamlet which leaves it by a deep gorge on the left, and forms a picturesque waterfall on its way to the sea. The scattered rustic huts and snow-white chapel of the Curral complete the picture of this peaceful and secluded spot, buried in the very heart of the mountains.

(*Footnote. The height of the Pico dos Bodes, determined in the usual way by the mountain barometer, was found by Lieutenant Dayman to be 3677 feet; his observations on the magnetic dip and intensity (for which see the Appendix) are interesting, as showing a great amount of local attraction at the summit.)

(**Footnote. There is reason to suppose the Curral to have been the principal, although not the only centre of that submarine volcanic action, during the continuance of which Madeira first emerged from the sea, an event, which the evidence afforded by the limestone fossils of St. Vincente (on the north side of the island) associates with the tertiary epoch. See Paper by Dr. J. Macaulay in Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal for October 1840.)

Although it is now the middle of winter, today's excursion afforded many subjects of interest to a naturalist. Some beautiful ferns, of which even the commonest one (Adiantum capillus-veneris) would have been much prized by an English botanist as a very rare British species, occurred on the dripping rocks by the roadside, and many wild plants were in flower on the lower grounds. Even butterflies of three kinds, two of which (Colias edusa and Cynthia cardui) are also found in Britain, occurred, although in small numbers, and at the Pass of the Curral coleoptera of the genera Pimelea and Scarites, were met with under stones along with minute landshells, Bulimus lubricus, Clausilia deltostoma, and a Pupa.

LEAVE MADEIRA.

After a stay of eight days, we left Madeira for Rio de Janeiro, and on January 2nd picked up the south-east trade wind, and passed through the Cape de Verde Islands to the southward between Mayo and St. Jago. Two days afterwards, in latitude 9 degrees 30 minutes North, and longitude 22 degrees 40 minutes West, a slight momentary shock, supposed to be the effect of an earthquake, was felt throughout the ship.

TRY FOR DEEP-SEA SOUNDINGS.

On the 11th an attempt was made to strike deep-sea soundings, but failed from the drawing of a splice used to connect two portions of the spun-yarn employed. On the following day the attempt was repeated by Captain Stanley, unsuccessfully, however, no bottom having been obtained at a depth of 2400 fathoms. Still a record of the experiment may be considered interesting. At three P.M., when nearly becalmed in latitude 1 degree North, and longitude 22 degrees 30 minutes West (a few hours previous to meeting the south-east trade) the second cutter was lowered with 2600 fathoms of line (six yarn spun-yarn) in her, coiled in casks, and a weight consisting of twelve 32 pounds shot-in all, 384 pounds, secured in a net bag of spun yarn. The jolly-boat was in attendance to tow the cutter as fast to whirlwind as she drifted, so as to keep the line during the time it was running out as nearly up and down as possible. The following table shows when each 100 fathoms passed over the stern, the whole 2400 fathoms of line having taken 38 minutes and 40 seconds to run out:

COLUMN 1: FATHOM MARK. COLUMN 2: TIME OF PASSING (IN MINUTES AND SECONDS).

100 : 1 0. 200 : 2 5. 300 : 2 30. 400 : 3 35. 500 : 5 0. 600 : 6 15. 700 : 7 35. 800 : 9 0. 900 : 10 35. 1000 : 12 40. 1100 : 13 30. 1200 : 15 10. 1300 : 17 5. 1400 : 19 0. 1500 : 20 50. 1600 : 22 30. 1700 : 24 25. 1800 : 26 30. 1900 : 29 10. 2000 : 31 0. 2100 : 32 55. 2200 : 35 0. 2300 : 36 55. 2400 : 38 40.

CROSSING THE LINE.

The forenoon of January 13th was employed in the performance of the usual ceremonies on crossing the line, a custom now happily falling into desuetude-I allude to it merely for the purpose of mentioning its unfortunate consequences in the present instance; for, although the whole proceeding was conducted with the greatest good humour, we had soon afterwards to lament the occurrence of a fatal case of pleurisy, besides another scarcely less severe, believed by the medical officers to have been induced by forcible and continued submersion in what is technically called the pond, one part of the performance which novices are obliged to submit to during these marine Saturnalia.

The most interesting occurrence in natural history during the passage, in addition to the usual accompaniments of flying fish, dolphins, physaliae and velellae, was our finding, in the neighbourhood of the equator, considerable numbers of a rare British bird, Thalassidroma leachii, a species of storm-petrel, not before known to extend its range to the tropics; it was distributed between the tropic of Cancer and latitude 5 degrees South.

As we approached the South American coast, the rates of several of our seventeen chronometers (fifteen Government and two private ones) were found to have strangely altered, thus reducing the value of our meridian distance between Madeira and Rio; this effect was ascribed to the firing of shotted guns when exercising at general quarters, a practice which in consequence was not afterwards repeated.

RIO DE JANEIRO.

January 23rd.

I shall not soon forget my first view of the shores of the new world. The morning was beautifully fine, and with a light breeze scarcely sufficient to cause a ripple on the water, we were slipping past the high and remarkable promontory of Cape Frio, which at first appeared like an island. A long beach of glittering sand stretched away to the westward, and was lost in the distance; behind this a strip of undulating country, clad here and there in the richest green, was backed by a range of distant wooded hills, on which many clumps of palms could be distinguished. Few harbours in the world present a more imposing entrance than that of Rio de Janeiro. Several islands lie off the opening, and on either side the coast range terminates in broken hills and ridges of granite, one of which, Pao d'Acucar, the Sugarloaf of the English, rises at once from near the water's edge to the height of 900 feet, as an apparently inaccessible peak, and forms the well-known landmark for the entrance.

Passing the narrows (where the width is a mile and a quarter) strongly guarded by fortifications, of which Fort Santa Cruz, an extensive work, with several tiers of guns occupying a rocky point, is the principal, the harbour widens out with beautiful sandy bays on either side, and rocky headlands covered with luxuriant vegetation. Here the view of the city