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PART I
THE VOYAGE TO EASTER ISLAND Charua Bay, Patagonian Channels THE START Why we went to Easter Island — The Building and Equipping of the Yacht — The Start from Southampton — Dartmouth — Falmouth. "All
the seashore is lined with numbers of stone idols, with their backs
turned
towards the sea, which caused us no little wonder, because we saw no
tool of
any kind for working these figures." So wrote, a century and a half
ago,
one of the earliest navigators to visit the Island of Easter in the
South-east
Pacific. Ever since that day passing ships have found it
incomprehensible that
a few hundred natives should have been able to make, move, and erect
numbers of
great stone monuments, some of which are over thirty feet in height;
they have
marvelled and passed on. As the world's traffic has increased Easter
Island has
still stood outside its routes, quiet and remote, with its story
undeciphered.
What were these statues of which the present inhabitants know nothing?
Were
they made by their ancestors in forgotten times or by an earlier race?
Whence
came the people who reached this remote spot? Did they arrive from
South
America, 2,000 miles to the eastward? Or did they sail against the
prevailing
wind from the distant islands to the west? It has even been conjectured
that
Easter Island is all that remains of a sunken continent. Fifty years
ago the
problem was increased by the discovery on this mysterious land of
wooden
tablets bearing an unknown script; they too have refused to yield their
secret. When,
therefore, we decided to see the Pacific before we died, and asked the
anthropological authorities at the British Museum what work there
remained to
be done, the answer was, "Easter Island." It was a much larger
undertaking than had been contemplated; we had doubts of our capacity
for so
important a venture; and at first the decision was against it, but we
hesitated
and were lost. Then followed the problem how to reach the goal. The
island
belongs to Chile, and the only regular communication, if regular it can
be
called, was a small sailing vessel sent out by the Chilean Company, who
use the
island as a ranch; she went sometimes once a year, sometimes not so
often, and
only remained there sufficient time to bring off the wool crop. We felt
that
the work on Easter ought to be accompanied with the possibility of
following up
clues elsewhere in the islands, and that to charter any such vessel as
could be
obtained on the Pacific coast, for the length of time we required her,
would be
unsatisfactory, both from the pecuniary standpoint and from that of
comfort. It
was therefore decided, as Scoresby is a keen yachtsman, that it was
worth while
to procure in England a little ship of our own, adapted to the purpose,
and to
sail out in her. As the Panama Canal was not open, and the route by
Suez would
be longer, the way would lie through the Magellan Straits. Search
for a suitable vessel in England was fruitless, and it became clear
that to get
what we wanted we must build. The question of general size and
arrangement had
first to be settled, and then matters of detail. It is unfortunate that
the precise
knowledge which was acquired of the exact number of inches necessary to
sleep
on, to sit on, and to walk along is not again likely to be useful. The
winter
of 1910-11 was spent over this work, but the professional assistance
obtained
proved to be incompetent, and we had to begin again; the final
architect of the
little yacht was Mr. Charles Nicholson, of Gosport, and the plans were
completed the following summer. They were for a vessel of schooner rig
and
auxiliary motor power The length over all was 90 feet, and the
water-line 72
feet; her beam was 20 feet. The gross tonnage was 91 and the yacht
tonnage was
126. The
vessel was designed in four compartments, with a steel bulkhead between
each of
the divisions, so that in case of accident it would be possible to keep
her
afloat. Aft was the little chart-room, which was the pride of the ship.
When we
went on board magnificent yachts which could have carried our little
vessel as
a lifeboat, and found the navigation being done in the public rooms, we
smiled with
superiority. Out of the chart-room were the navigator's sleeping
quarters, and
in the overhang of the stern the sail-locker. The next compartment was
given to
the engines, and made into a galvanised iron box in case of fire. It
contained
a motor engine for such work as navigation in and out of harbour and
traversing
belts of calm. This was of 38 h.p. and run on paraffin, as petrol was
disallowed by the insurance; it gave her 5½ knots. In the same
compartment was
the engine for the electric light: in addition the yacht had steam
heating. The
spaces between the walls of the engine-box and those of the ship were
given to
lamps, and to boatswain's stores. Then came
the centre of the ship, containing the quarters of our scientific
party. The
middle portion of this was raised three or four feet for the whole
length,
securing first a deckhouse and then a heightened roof for the saloon
below, an
arrangement which was particularly advantageous, as no portholes were
allowed
below decks, leaving us dependent on skylights and ventilators.
Entering from
without, two or three steps led down into the deck-house, which formed
part of
the saloon, but at a higher level; it was my chief resort throughout
the
voyage. On each side was a settee, which was on the level of the deck,
and thus
commanded a view through port-holes and door of what was passing
outside; one
of these settees served as a berth in hot weather. A small companion
connected
the deck-house with the saloon below: the latter ran across the width
of the
ship; it also had full-length settees both sides, and at the end of
each was a
chiffonier. On the port side was the dinner-table, which swung so
beautifully
that the fiddles were seldom used, and the thermos for the navigating
officer
could be left happily on it all night. Starboard was a smaller table,
fitted
for writing; and a long bookshelf ran along the top of the for'ardside
(fig. 1A). On the
afterside of the saloon a double cabin opened out of it, and a passage
led to
two single cabins and the bathroom. The cabins were rather larger than
the
ordinary staterooms of a mail steamer, and the arrangements of course
more
ample; every available cranny was utilised for drawers and lockers, and
in
going ashore it was positive pain to see the waste of room under beds
and sofas
and behind washing-stands. My personal accommodation was a chest of
drawers and
hanging wardrobe, besides the drawers under the berth and various
lockers.
Returning to the saloon, a door for'ard opened into the pantry, which
communicated with the galley above, situated on deck for the sake of
coolness.
For'ard again was a whole section given to stores, and beyond, in the
bows, a
roomy forecastle. The yacht had three boats — a lifeboat which
contained a
small motor engine, a cutter, and a dinghy; when we were at sea the two
former
were placed on deck, but the dinghy, except on one occasion only, was
always
carried in the davits, where she triumphantly survived all
eventualities, a
visible witness to the buoyancy of the ship. While the
plans were being completed, search was being made for a place where the
vessel
should be built; for though nominally a yacht, the finish and build of
the
Solent would have been out of place. It had been decided that she
should be of
wood, as easier to repair in case of accident where coral reefs and
other
unseen dangers abound; but the building of wooden ships is nearly
extinct. The
west country was visited, and an expedition made to Dundee and
Aberdeen, but
even there, the old home of whalers, ships are now built of steel;
finally we
fixed on Whitstable, from which place such vessels still ply round the
coast.
The keel was laid in the autumn of 1911; the following spring we took
up our
abode there to watch over her, and there in May 1912 she first took the
water,
being christened by the writer in approved fashion. “I name this ship Mana, and may the blessing of God go
with her and all who sail in her" — a ceremony not to be performed
without
a lump in the throat. The choice of a name had been difficult; we had
wished to
give her one borne by some ship of Dr. Scoresby, the Arctic explorer, a
friend
of my husband's family whose name he received, but none of them proved
to be
suitable. The object was to find something which was both simple and
uncommon;
all appellations that were easy to grasp seemed to have been already
adopted,
while those that were unique lent themselves to error. “How would it do
in a
cable?” was the regulation test. Finally we hit on Mana,
which is a word well known to anthropologists, and has the
advantage of being familiar throughout the South Seas. We generally
translated
it somewhat freely as "good luck." It means, more strictly,
supernatural power: a Polynesian would, for instance, describe the
common idea
of the effect of a horseshoe by saying that the shoe had "Mana."
From a scientific standpoint Mana is probably the
simplest form of
religious conception. The yacht flew the burgee of the Royal Cruising
Club.
From the
time the prospective expedition became public we received a
considerable amount
of correspondence from strangers: some of it was from those who had
special
knowledge of the subject, and was highly valued; other letters had a
comic
element, being from various young men, who appeared to think that our
few
berths might be at the disposal of anyone who wanted to see the world.
One
letter, dated from a newspaper office, stated that its writer had no
scientific
attainments, but would be glad to get up any subject required in the
time
before sailing; the qualification of another for the post of steward
was that
he would be able to print the menus and ball programmes. The most
quaint
experience was in connection with a correspondent who gave a good name
and
address, and offered to put at our disposal some special knowledge on
the
subject of native lore, which he had collected as Governor of one of
the South
Sea islands. On learning our country address, he wrote that he was
about to
become the guest of some of our neighbours and would call upon us. It
subsequently transpired that they knew nothing of him, but that he had
written
to them, giving our name. He did, in fact, turn up at our cottage
during our
absence, and obtained an excellent tea at the expense of the caretaker.
The next
we heard of him was from the keeper of a small hotel in the
neighbourhood of
Whitstable, where he had run up a large bill on the strength of a
statement
that he was one of our expedition, and we found later that he had shown
a
friend over the yacht while she was building, giving out he was a
partner of my
husband. We understand that after we started he appeared in the county
court at
the instance of the unfortunate innkeeper. After
much trouble we ultimately selected two colleagues from the older
universities.
The arrangement with one of these, an anthropologist, was,
unfortunately, a
failure, and ended at the Cape Verde Islands. The other, a geologist,
Mr.
Frederick Lowry-Corry, took up intermediate work in India, and
subsequently
joined us in South America. The Admiralty was good enough to place at
our
disposal a lieutenant on full pay for navigation, survey, and tidal
observation. This post was ultimately filled by Lieutenant D. R.
Ritchie, R.N. With
regard to the important matter of the crew, it was felt that neither
merchant
seamen nor yacht hands would be suitable, and a number of men were
chosen from
the Lowestoft fishing fleet. Subsequent delays, however, proved
deleterious,
the prospective "dangers" grew in size, and the only one who
ultimately sailed with us was a boy, Charles C. Jeffery, who was
throughout a
loyal and valued member of the expedition. The places of the other men
were
supplied by a similar class from Brixham, who justified the selection.
The
mate, Preston, gave much valuable service, and one burly seaman in
particular.
Light by name, by his good-humour and intelligent criticism added
largely to
the amenity of the voyage. An engineer, who was also a photographer,
was
obtained from Glasgow. We were particularly fortunate in our sailing
master,
Mr. H. J. Gillam. He had seen, while in Japan, a notice of the
expedition in a
paper, and applied with keenness for the post; to his professional
knowledge,
loyalty, and pleasant companionship the successful achievement of the
voyage is
very largely due. The full complement of the yacht, in addition to the
scientific members, consisted of the navigator, engineer, cook-steward,
under-steward, and three men for each watch, making ten in all. S. was
official
master, and I received on the books the by no means honorary rank of
stewardess. Whitstable
proved to be an unsuitable place for painting, so Mana
made her first voyage round to Southampton Water, where she
lay for a while in the Hamble River, and later at a yacht-builder's in
Southampton. The steward on this trip took to his bed with seasickness;
but as
he was subsequently found surreptitiously eating the dinner which S.
had been
obliged to cook, we felt that he was not likely to prove a desirable
shipmate,
and he did not proceed further. We had hoped to sail in the autumn, but
we had
our full share of the troubles and delays which seem inevitably
associated with
yacht-building: the engine was months late in the installation, and
then had to
be rectified; the painting took twice as long as had been promised; and
when we
put out for trial trips there was trouble with the anchor which
necessitated a
return to harbour. The friends who had kindly assembled in July at the
Hans
Crescent Hotel to bid us good speed began to ask if we were ever really
going to
depart. We spent the winter practically living on board, attending to
these
affairs and to the complicated matter of stowage. The
general question of space had of course been very carefully considered
in the
original designs. The allowance for water was unusually large, the
tanks
containing sufficient for two, or with strict economy for three months;
the
object in this was not only safety in long or delayed passages, but to
avoid
taking in supplies in doubtful harbours. Portions of the hold had to be
reserved
of course for coal, and also for the welded steel tanks which contained
the
oil. When these essentials had been disposed of, still more intricate
questions
arose with regard to the allotment of room; it turned out to be greater
than we
had ventured to hope, but this in no way helped, as every department
hastened
to claim additional accommodation and to add something more to its
stock.
Nothing was more surprising all through the voyage than the yacht's
elasticity:
however much we took on board we got everything in, and however much we
took
out she was always quite full. The
outfit for the ship had of course been taken into consideration, but as
departure drew near it seemed, from the standpoint of below decks, to
surpass
all reason; there were sails for fine weather and sails for stormy
weather, and
spare sails, anchors, and sea-anchors, one-third of a mile of cable,
and ropes
of every size and description. As
commissariat officer, the Stewardess naturally felt that domestic
stores were
of the first importance. Many and intricate calculations had been made
as to
the amount a man ate in a month, and the cubic space to be allowed for
the
same. It had been also a study in itself to find out what must come
from
England and what could be obtained elsewhere; kind correspondents in
Buenos
Aires and Valparaiso had helped with advice, and we arranged for fresh
consignments from home to meet us in those ports, of such articles as
were not
to be procured there or were inordinately expensive. The general amount
of provisions
on board was calculated for six months, but smaller articles, such as
tea, were
taken in sufficient quantities for the two years which it was at the
time
assumed would be the duration of the trip. We brought back on our
return a
considerable amount of biscuits, for it was found possible to bake on
board
much oftener than we had dared to hope. As a yacht we were not obliged
to
conform to the merchant service scale of provisions, our ship's
articles
guaranteeing "sufficiency and no waste." The merchant scale was
constantly referred to, but it is, by universal agreement, excessive,
and leads
to much waste, as the men are liable to claim what they consider their
right,
whether they consume the ration or not; the result is that a harbour
may not
unfrequently be seen covered with floating pieces of bread, or even
whole
loaves. The quantity asked for by our men of any staple foods was
always given,
and there were the usual additions, but we subsisted on about
three-fourths of
the legal ration. We had only one case of illness requiring a doctor,
and then
it was diagnosed as "the result of over-eating." It was a source of
satisfaction that we never throughout the voyage ran short of any
essential
commodity. There
were other matters in the household department for which it was even
more
difficult to estimate than for the actual food — how many cups and
saucers, for
example, should we break per month, and how many reams of paper and
quarts of
ink ought we to take. Our books had of course to be largely scientific,
a
sovereign's worth of cheap novels was a boon, but we often yearned
unutterably
for a new book. Will those who have friends at the ends of the earth
remember
the godsend to them of a few shillings so invested, as a means of
bringing
fresh thoughts and a sense of civilised companionship? For a library
for the
crew we were greatly indebted to the kindness of Lord Radstock and the
Passmore
Edwards Ocean Library. We were subsequently met at every available port
by a
supply of newspapers, comprising the weekly editions of the Times
and Daily Graphic, the Spectator;
and the papers of two Societies for Women's Suffrage. In
addition to the requirements for the voyage the whole equipment for
landing had
to be foreseen and stowed, comprising such things as tents, saddlery,
beds,
buckets, basins, and cooking-pots. We later regretted the space given
to some
of the enamelled iron utensils, as they can be quite well procured in
Chile,
while cotton and other goods which we had counted on procuring there
for barter
were practically unobtainable. Some sacks of old clothes which we took
out for
gifts proved most valuable. Among late arrivals that clamoured for
peculiar
consideration were the scientific outfits, which attained to gigantic
proportions. S., who had studied at one time at University College
Hospital,
was our doctor, and the medical and surgical stores were imposing:
judging from
the quantity of bandages, we were each relied on to break a leg once a
month.
Everybody had photographic gear; the geologist appeared with a huge
pestle and
other goods; there was anthropological material for the preserving of
skulls;
the surveying instruments looked as if they would require a ship to
themselves;
while cases of alarming size arrived from the Admiralty and Royal
Geographical
Society, containing sounding machines and other mysterious articles.
The owners
of all these treasures argued earnestly that they were of the essence
of the
expedition, and must be treated with respect accordingly. Then of
course things
turned up for which everyone had forgotten to allow room, such as spare
electric lamps, also a trammel and seine, each of fifty fathoms, to
secure fish
in port. Before we finally sailed a large consignment appeared of
bonded
tobacco for the crew, and the principal hold was sealed by the Customs,
necessitating a temporary sacrifice of the bathroom for last articles. This
packing of course all took time, especially as nothing could be allowed
to get
wet, and a rainy or stormy day hung up all operations. Finally,
however, on the
afternoon of February 28th, 1913, the anchor was weighed, and we went
down
Southampton Water under power. We were at last off for Easter Island! We had a
good passage down the Channel, stopped awhile at Dartmouth, for the
Brixham men
to say good-bye to their families, and arrived at Falmouth on March
6th. Here
there was experienced a tiresome delay of nearly three weeks. The wind,
which
in March might surely have seen its way to be easterly, and had long
been from
that direction, turned round and blew a strong gale from the
south-west. The
harbour was white with little waves, and crowded with shipping of every
description, from battleships to fishing craft. Occasionally a vessel
would
venture out to try to get round the Lizard, only to return beaten by
the
weather. We had while waiting the sad privilege of rendering a last
tribute to
our friend Dr. Thomas Hodgkin, the author of Italy and her
Invaders, who just before our arrival had passed
where "tempests cease and surges swell no more." He rests among his
own people in the quiet little Quaker burial-ground. It was
not till Lady Day, Tuesday, March 25th, that the wind changed
sufficiently to
allow of departure; then there was a last rush on shore to obtain
sailing
supplies of fresh meat, fruit, and vegetables, and to send off good-bye
telegrams. Everything was triumphantly squeezed in somewhere and
carefully
secured, so that nothing should shift when the roll began. The only
articles
which found no home were two sacks of potatoes, which had to remain on
the
cabin floor, because the space assigned to them below hatches had, in
my
absence on shore, been nefariously appropriated by the Sailing-master
for an
additional supply of coal. It was
dark before all was ready, and we left Falmouth Harbour with the motor;
then
out into the ocean, the sails hoisted, the Lizard Light sighted, and
good-bye
to England! "Two
years," said our friends, "that is a long time to be away."
"Oh no," we had replied; "we shall find when we come back that
everything is just the same; it always is. You will still be talking of
Militants, and Labour Troubles, and Home Rule; there will be a few new
books to
read, the children will be a little taller — that will be all." But the
result was otherwise. |