Captain Cook's Journal During His First Voyage Round the World
water was limited, and would not hold out more than a given number of
days. Every voyage that is pursued tells the same story--short of water,
and eagerly looking out for an opportunity of replenishing it. The winds
were found to blow in fixed directions, and each voyager was fearful of
deviating from the track on which it was known they would be fair, for
fear of delays. And ever present in each captain's mind was the dread of
the terrible scourge, scurvy. Every expedition suffered from it. Each
hoped they would be exempt, and each in turn was reduced to impotence
from its effects.
It was the great consideration for every leader of a protracted
expedition, How can I obviate this paralyzing influence? And one after
another had to confess his failure.
It is yearly becoming more difficult for us to realise these obstacles.
The prevailing winds and currents in each part of the ocean are well
known to us: the exact distance and bearing from one point to another are
laid down in the chart; steam bridges over calm areas, and in many cases
conducts us on our entire journey at a speed but little inferior to that
of land travelling by railroad; modern science preserves fresh and
palatable food for an indefinite period; and, in a word, all the
difficulties and most of the dangers of long voyages have disappeared.
Take one element alone in long voyages--the time required. The average
progress of a ship in the eighteenth century was not more than fifty
miles a day. Nowadays we may expect as much as four hundred miles in a
full powered steamer, and not less than one hundred and fifty in a
well-fitted sailing ship.
But navigation, and more especially the navigation of the unknown
Pacific, was very different in Cook's days, when all the obstacles above
mentioned impeded the explorers, and impelled them to follow a common
track.
There were a few who had deviated from the common track.
The Spaniards, Mendana, Quiros, Torres, in the latter part of the
sixteenth century, starting first from their colonies in Peru, had
ventured along the central line of the Pacific, discovering the
Marquesas, certain small coral islands, the Northern New Hebrides, and
the Solomon Islands; but their voyages, mainly for fear of Drake and his
successors, were kept so secret that no one quite knew where these
islands lay.
Abel Tasman, in 1642, coming across the Indian Ocean from the westward,
had touched at Tasmania, or, as he called it, Van Diemen's Land, had
skirted the western coast of the north island of New Zealand without
landing, and had stretched away to the north-east, and found the Tonga
Group.
The English Buccaneers were not among these discoverers; Dampier, Woods
Rogers, and others, all went from Acapulco to the Ladrones, looking out
for the valuable Spanish galleons from
Manila, and they added little or nothing to the knowledge of the Pacific
and what it contained.
It was not therefore strange that the imagination of geographers ran riot
amongst the great unknown areas. They were impressed, as they looked at
the globes of the day, with the fact that, while the northern hemisphere
contained much land, the southern showed either water or blank spaces;
and starting with the ill-founded idea that the solid land in either
hemisphere should balance, they conceived that there must be a great
unknown continent in the southern part of the Pacific to make up the
deficiency. This was generally designated Terra Australis Incognita, and
many is the ancient chart that shows it, sketched with a free and
uncontrolled hand, around the South Pole. It was held by many that Tasman
had touched it in New Zealand; that Quiros had seen it near his island of
Encarnacion, and again at Espiritu Santo (New Hebrides), but no one had
been to see.
In George III's reign the desire to know more of this unknown ocean arose
in England. The king himself took great interest in it, and for the first
time since Queen Elizabeth's age, when Davis, Frobisher, Drake,
Narborough, and others, had gone on voyages of discovery, the pursuit was
renewed.
In 1764 the Dolphin and Tamor, under the command of Commodore Byron and
Captain Mouat, sailed on a voyage round the world. They spent some time,
as ordered, in exploring the Falkland Islands, and, after a two months'
passage through Magellan Strait, they stood across the Pacific. They,
however, also followed near the well-beaten track, and passing north of
the Paumotus, of which they sighted a few small islands, they too made
for the Ladrones. As usual, they suffered much from scurvy, and the one
idea was to get to a known place to recover. Byron returned in May 1766,
having added but little to the knowledge of the Pacific, and the Dolphin
was again sent in the August of the same year, with the Swallow, under
the command of Captains Wallis and Carteret, on a similar voyage.
They did somewhat better. After the usual struggle through the long and
narrow Strait of Magellan, against the strong and contrary winds that
continually blow, and which occupied four months, they got into the
Pacific.
As they passed out they separated, the Dolphin outsailing the Swallow,
and a dispassionate reader cannot well escape the conclusion that the
senior officers unnecessarily parted company.
The Dolphin kept a little south of the usual route, fell in with some of
the Paumotu Group, and finally discovered Tahiti, where she anchored at
Royal Bay, after grounding on a reef at its entrance, with her people, as
usual, decimated by scurvy. They were almost immediately attacked by the
natives, who, however, received such a reception that they speedily made
friends, and fast friends too. The remainder of the month of the Dolphin
stay was marked with the most friendly intercourse, and she sailed with a
high opinion of Tahiti and the Tahitians; the Queen, Cook's Obereia,
being especially well disposed to them. Their communication with the
natives must, however, have been limited, as they remained too short a
time to learn the language, and we gather little of the manners and
customs from the account of the voyage.
After sailing from Tahiti we hear the same tale--sickness, want of water,
doubt of what was before them. After sailing by several small islands,
and an attempt to water at one, course was steered as before for the
Ladrones. Let Wallis tell his own story. He says:--
"I considered that watering here would be tedious and attended with great
fatigue; that it was now the depth of winter in the southern hemisphere;
that the ship was leaky, that the rudder shook in the stern very much,
and that what other damage she might have received in her bottom could
not be known. That for these reasons she was very unfit for the bad
weather which she would certainly meet with, either in going round Cape
Horn or through the Streight of Magellan; that if she should get safely
through the streight or round the Cape, it would be absolutely necessary
to refresh in some port; but in that case no port would be in her reach.
I therefore determined to make the best of my way to Tinian, Batavia, and
so to Europe by the Cape of Good Hope.
"By this rout, as far as we could judge, we should sooner be at home; and
if the ship should prove not to be in a condition to make the whole
voyage, we should still save our lives, as from this place to Batavia we
should probably have a calm sea, and be not far from a port."
These are scarcely the sentiments of a bold explorer, and we shall look
in vain for any similar ideas on the part of Cook. Here was a ship just a
year from England, just come from a convenient and friendly island, where
every refreshment and opportunity for refit were to be found, and the
only thought is how to get home again!
It was the vastly different conduct of Cook's voyages; the determination
that nothing should stop the main object of the expedition; his resource
in every difficulty and danger; that caused, and rightly caused, him to
be hailed as a born leader of such expeditions.
Wallis followed nearly on Byron's track: went from the Ladrones, through
the China Sea, to Batavia, and so home, arriving in May 1768.
The Swallow, under Captain Carteret, was navigated in a different spirit.
She was badly fitted out for such a voyage, had not even a forge, and all
the articles for trade were on board the Dolphin. But Carteret was not
easily daunted. He might, under the circumstances, when he found himself
alone, have abandoned the voyage; but he boldly went forward. Passing
from the Strait of Magellan, he touched at Juan Fernandez, and steering
somewhat south of Wallis's line, he passed south of Tahiti, discovering
Pitcairn's Island on his way, and some of the islands south of the
Paumotus.
By this time his people were severely afflicted with scurvy, and his ship
in a bad state; but Carteret only thought of getting to some place of
refreshment, from which he might afterwards pass on his voyage towards
the south, in the hope of falling in with the great southern Continent.
In this he was not fortunate. Missing all other islands, he fell across
the Santa Cruz Group, and hoping that he had found what he wanted, he
anchored and tried to water. The party were, however, attacked by the
natives, and several, including the master, were wounded and died by
poisoned arrows. All hope of a quiet refit was over, and his ship's
company being in a wretched condition, no forge or tools on board to
enable him to effect his many repairs, Carteret, who was himself very
ill, was obliged to give up all intention of exploration to the
southward. He got enough water to last him, and sailed on toward the
Solomon Islands. These he also just missed, but fell in with New Britain,
and passing between it and New Ireland, demonstrated for the first time
that these two large islands were not one, as had been supposed. He here
managed to do something to repair his leaky vessel, heeling and caulking
her, but got little but fruit for his scurvy-stricken crew. He was
attacked by the fierce islanders, and was altogether unable to do as much
as he evidently earnestly desired towards examining the islands.
Thence they struggled on by Mindanao to Makassar in Celebes, delayed by
contrary winds, disappointed of refreshments at every place they tried,
and losing men from scurvy. At Makassar they met with but an inhospitable
reception from the Dutch, who refused to permit them to receive
refreshments there, and after waiting at Bonthain, a place in Celebes,
several months, for the monsoon to change, they at last arrived at
Batavia, the only port in the Dutch Indies really open to ships, in June
1768. Thence, after heaving down and a thorough repair, they reached
home, via the Cape, on March 20th, 1769.
Of all the voyages before Cook's, Carteret's showed most determination
and true spirit of enterprise; and had his ship been better supplied, and
more suited to the exigencies of such a long cruise, he would, but for
one thing, have accomplished far more. This was the fatal disease, which
no captain had as yet succeeded in warding off, and which hampered and
defeated the efforts of the most enthusiastic. No man could go beyond a
certain point in disregarding the health of his crew.
These, then, were the kind of voyages, with their scanty fruits, to which
the English people were getting accustomed, and they were not such as to
encourage repetition.
In all the years that had elapsed since the Spaniards first sailed on the
Pacific, but little real knowledge of the lands in it had been gained.
Let us attempt to give a picture of what was known.
The Marquesas and Santa Cruz Group were known to exist; but of the
Solomons grave doubts were felt, as no man had seen them but Mendana, and