Read The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty Online
Authors: Caroline Alexander
Tags: #History, #Europe, #Great Britain, #Military, #Naval
The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty (16 page)
BOOK: The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty
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To Joseph Banks, Bligh reported nothing but contentment. “I am happy and satisfyed in my little ship and we are now fit to go round half a score of worlds,” he wrote—how different from the fretful, worried letters penned before departure! “[B]oth Men & Officers tractable and well disposed & chearfulness & content in the countenance of every one. I am sure nothing is even more conducive to health. I have no cause to inflict punishments for I have no offenders and every thing turns out to my most sanguine expectations.” This repeated reference to the fact that there had been no need for punishment—flogging—is revealing. It would seem that to Bligh, infliction of punishment was like sickness, and scurvy, something that had no place on a well-run ship. William Bligh had set out to make the perfect voyage.
To Banks, as to Campbell, Bligh concluded with an update on the progress of a protégé. “Young Hallet is very well and is a very fine young man,” he informed Banks, “and I shall always attend to every thing that can be of service to him.”
Parting company with the
British Queen,
the
Bounty
continued south and days later “passed the limits of the Southern Tropic.” Incrementally, the temperature began to drop. Vast numbers of seabirds were noted—shearwaters, albatross—as well as turtles and numerous whales; one afternoon a cloud of butterflies was blown past the ship. Then, on Sunday, March 2, after divine service and the usual inspection of his men, Bligh made an announcement. “I now thought it for the Good of the Service to give Mr. Fletcher Christian an Acting Order as Lieut. I therefore Ordered it to be read to all hands.” This was another clear indication of Bligh’s patronage, if not favoritism, of Christian; a long stint as acting lieutenant would in the normal course of things ensure the master’s mate of promotion on his return.
British Queen,
the
Bounty
continued south and days later “passed the limits of the Southern Tropic.” Incrementally, the temperature began to drop. Vast numbers of seabirds were noted—shearwaters, albatross—as well as turtles and numerous whales; one afternoon a cloud of butterflies was blown past the ship. Then, on Sunday, March 2, after divine service and the usual inspection of his men, Bligh made an announcement. “I now thought it for the Good of the Service to give Mr. Fletcher Christian an Acting Order as Lieut. I therefore Ordered it to be read to all hands.” This was another clear indication of Bligh’s patronage, if not favoritism, of Christian; a long stint as acting lieutenant would in the normal course of things ensure the master’s mate of promotion on his return.
A week later, out of the blur of notations about butterflies and shear-waters, porpoises and whales, Bligh’s log records an event that returned him squarely to the world of his men: “Untill this Afternoon I had hopes I could have performed the Voyage without punishment to any One,” Bligh wrote, with evident regret, “but I found it necessary to punish Mathew Quintal with 2 dozen lashes for Insolence and Contempt.”
In a subsequent published narrative, Bligh expanded on the event. “Upon a complaint made to me by the master, I found it necessary to punish Matthew Quintal, one of the seamen, with two dozen lashes, for insolence and mutinous behaviour. Before this, I had not had occasion to punish any person on board.”
Now began the whole grim ritual; the crew mustered to watch Quintal, age twenty-two, from Cornwall, stripped to the waist and strapped, spread-eagled, by the wrists and ankles to an upright deck grating. With no marines to drum or pipe, this would have been a lackluster ceremony, itself stripped down to its most pertinent and brutal elements. By all later reports, Quintal, of middle height and “strong made,” was a dangerously disaffected troublemaker. It does not appear from the manner in which the incident was logged, however, that Bligh himself had been witness to Quintal’s insubordination; no matter. Once his master logged the event and brought it to Bligh’s attention, Bligh was compelled to administer punishment, and his perfect record was now spoiled.
While the small crew stood formally mustered to witness the punishment in the damp, hazy weather, Boatswain’s Mate James Morrison—the literate diarist, with his smattering of classical education—administered the flogging. For Bligh, whose humane principles had forbidden men’s being ducked when crossing the line, the familiar ritual must have been a singularly unpleasant landmark on his voyage. The natural coarseness of men’s habits—their dirty clothes and fingernails, his surgeon’s “beastly” drunkenness, their cruel and brutal pranks—all offended him. He had chosen a profession infamous for poor conditions and dirty habits, in which men counted on taking brutal poundings from their fellow men and from the sea. Yet Bligh expected his ship to be “perfectly sweet” and scented with vinegar, hardened seamen to wear clean clothes and scrub their hands, cheerfulness to be seen on every countenance and merry dancing in the evening. There was no dirt or disease in Bligh’s vision of the perfect voyage, and no punishment. Busily intent on his many burdensome responsibilities, Bligh was unlikely to have taken note of his men’s practiced and scrutinizing gazes. Did they perceive that it was their fastidious, bustling captain who avoided the lash?
The damp, hazy weather closed in and by the following day had become dense fog. The temperature continued to drop, and when the fog cleared the air was felt to be cold. In the afternoon, one of the men shot an albatross that fell dying into the ocean, and a boat was sent out to collect it. On board its wingspan was gravely measured. The superstition that the killing of an albatross brought bad luck was not yet prevalent; Coleridge had not yet written “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner”—this would follow later.
The
Bounty
was now as far south as the fortieth latitude, the “roaring forties,” and was drawing parallel with the coast of Patagonia. A wet, dense fog forbade sight of land, although south of Puerto Deseado the men “saw what was supposed to be the looming of it.” Whales appeared in great numbers and seemed to enjoy lying in groups of two and three windward of ship, expelling great blasts of spray over the men.
Bounty
was now as far south as the fortieth latitude, the “roaring forties,” and was drawing parallel with the coast of Patagonia. A wet, dense fog forbade sight of land, although south of Puerto Deseado the men “saw what was supposed to be the looming of it.” Whales appeared in great numbers and seemed to enjoy lying in groups of two and three windward of ship, expelling great blasts of spray over the men.
A strong gale arose on March 20 as the
Bounty
approached the Jasons, the northwesternmost of the Falkland Islands. Albatross, petrels and snowbirds flocked and hovered around the rigging, as if wishing to perch. The wind and sea became violent and Bligh was anxious to get south of the islands; he had by now given up his earlier plan of stopping here for wood and water. The weather was fast deteriorating and he could afford no delays.
Bounty
approached the Jasons, the northwesternmost of the Falkland Islands. Albatross, petrels and snowbirds flocked and hovered around the rigging, as if wishing to perch. The wind and sea became violent and Bligh was anxious to get south of the islands; he had by now given up his earlier plan of stopping here for wood and water. The weather was fast deteriorating and he could afford no delays.
Before dawn on March 23, the goats and single dog on board began to agitate, and the men declared that the animals could smell land. Soon, in the moonlight, hills could be made out to the west, and when daylight broke the mountains of Tierra del Fuego could be seen, mostly free of snow.
“I realy look upon the bad or Winter Weather not yet to be set in,” Bligh wrote. “[B]ut as I must expect it hourly I have no right to loose a Moment. . . .”
Skirting Le Maire Strait, they passed the desolate, mountainous country of Staten Island to the east. Now, at nearly the 55° latitude south, the
Bounty
was fast approaching the Horn. A hint of the weather they were in for hit the ship on March 27, with the arrival of a strong gale and an “exceedingly High” sea.
Bounty
was fast approaching the Horn. A hint of the weather they were in for hit the ship on March 27, with the arrival of a strong gale and an “exceedingly High” sea.
“It would not be possible for a laboursome Ship to keep her Masts,” Bligh observed. His ship, as he had often proudly noted, was not “laboursome,” but well behaved. Her hatches were all battened down, and although towering seas broke over her, so far the men kept “tolerably dry.” The temperature was now in the upper thirties, and the weather wet and raw.
“I Ordered the People to have Wheat [porridge] served every day with Sugar & Butter to enable them to have a comfortable hot breakfast,” Bligh logged. Hour after hour, his men were required to reef and hand the sails; then reset them; then reef again, up and down the perilous, pitching rigging in the menacing cold. The sea, Bligh wrote wonderingly, “exceeds any I have seen.”
When the gale moderated, Bligh ordered the belowdecks cleaned and dried. The sea was still so huge that he had difficulty taking sightings, as the mountainous waves swamped his horizon. Over the next few days the gales moderated, then increased, moderated, then “blew a Storm of Wind and the Snow fell so heavy that it was scarce possible to haul the sails up and furl them from the Weight and Stiffness.” With the great sea running confused and contrary, sleet and hail began to fall.
“At 6 In the Morning the Storm exceeded anything I had met with and a Sea higher than I had ever seen before,” Bligh entered in his log. The ship was carrying only her staysails, all the canvas that could be risked.
“My next business was to see after my People who had undergone some fatigue,” Bligh wrote, his ship safe for the time being. A fire blazed continuously in the galley and someone was set to dry clothes around the clock. Bligh ordered large quantities of the “Portable Soup” of which he was very proud, added to the men’s “Pease,” or pea pudding, “which made a Valuable and good dinner for them.”
Incredibly, the gales increased, carrying blasts of snow and sleet, the sharp winds piling the sea to windward “like a Wall.” Still, Bligh could note that blue petrels and pintados, “two beautiful kinds of birds,” followed their wake. The
Bounty
was losing ground, being driven back the hard-won miles. At the close of April 3, she was farther north than she had been six days before.
Bounty
was losing ground, being driven back the hard-won miles. At the close of April 3, she was farther north than she had been six days before.
“All I have to do now is to Nurse my people with care and attention,” wrote Bligh, “and like Seamen look forward to a New Moon for a Change of Wind and Weather.” The gale moderated in the early hours of the following morning, and although a cold rain fell, the men were able to check and service rigging as well as clean up and dry below. With fresh gales and mere squalls, the
Bounty
made headway, and over the next few days, under close-reefed sails, clawed her way to 60° 14’ south; this was to be the extreme limit of her southing. For ten days, Bligh pushed the
Bounty
and her men through squalls of sleet and hail, “dark wet nights” and strong gales, through fog and high confused seas. At midnight on the thirteenth, the ship was hit by so severe a gale that the decks were “twice filled with the Sea.” Now all pumps were worked every hour. Although the hatches were closed—and had been for close to three months—the belowdecks was awash and Bligh turned over his great cabin “to the Use of those poor fellows who had Wet Births.” It is not noted if Bligh himself slept at all.
Bounty
made headway, and over the next few days, under close-reefed sails, clawed her way to 60° 14’ south; this was to be the extreme limit of her southing. For ten days, Bligh pushed the
Bounty
and her men through squalls of sleet and hail, “dark wet nights” and strong gales, through fog and high confused seas. At midnight on the thirteenth, the ship was hit by so severe a gale that the decks were “twice filled with the Sea.” Now all pumps were worked every hour. Although the hatches were closed—and had been for close to three months—the belowdecks was awash and Bligh turned over his great cabin “to the Use of those poor fellows who had Wet Births.” It is not noted if Bligh himself slept at all.
Despite all exertions—the constant fires, dry clothes, dry berths and hot food at every meal—the weeks since passing Staten Island had begun to take their toll. Huggan had his shoulder thrown out when the ship lurched, and in the midst of a “Very Severe” gale and “a high breaking sea,” Thomas Hall, the cook, fell and broke a rib. William Peckover, the gunner, and Charles Norman, carpenter’s mate, were laid up with rheumatic complaints. Every man out of commission increased the burden of the remaining small crew.
“I have now every reason to find Men and Ship Complaining, which Will the soonest determine this point,” Bligh confided to his log.
That point soon came, and on April 17, Bligh determined to abandon the Horn. Only shortly before his departure from England, almost as an afterthought, he had received (through the intercession of Joseph Banks) discretionary orders from the Admiralty to make for the Cape of Good Hope if the Horn proved impossible. This Bligh now determined to do. From here, he would approach the South Seas from the opposite side of the globe. The detour would add some ten thousand miles to the voyage, but there was nothing to be done. After twenty-five days of battle with the sea, the
Bounty
was, at 59° 05’ south, more or less where she had begun.
Bounty
was, at 59° 05’ south, more or less where she had begun.
At eleven in the morning of the seventeenth, Bligh summoned all hands aft and publicly thanked them for attending to their duties throughout the trials of the last month. He then announced that he had decided to bear away for southern Africa. “The General Joy in the Ship was very great on this Account,” Bligh noted. His announcement was received with three hearty cheers.
It was, for Bligh, a bitter, difficult decision—so difficult that only days later when the weather took a moderate turn he was induced to make one last attempt, but this was quickly abandoned. Eight men were now on the sick list, mostly with “Rheumatick complaints.” This, as Bligh ruefully noted, was “much felt in the Watches, the Ropes being now Worked with much difficulty, from the Wet and Snow.” The men aloft on whom fell the monstrous task of handling the sails were at times incapable of getting below in the face of the storm blasts, and when they did return they “sometimes for a While lost their Speech.” Reconciling himself to defeat, Bligh “ordered the Helm to be put a Weather,” and the
Bounty
headed for the Cape of Good Hope.
Bounty
headed for the Cape of Good Hope.
She arrived in False Bay, the preferred anchorage across the spit from Cape Town, on May 24, after an uneventful passage. The sick men had recovered during the intervening four weeks, and refurbishment of the ship began almost at once. The day after mooring, Bligh administered a second punishment: six lashes for John Williams, a seaman from Guernsey, for neglect of duty “in heaving the lead.” In this case there was no expression of regret from Bligh.
The
Bounty
remained in False Bay for thirty-eight days, during which time she was overhauled from top to bottom, from her rigging to new ballast in her hold, as well as resupplied. Fresh meat, celery, leeks, onions, cabbages and—as a luxury—soft bread were brought on board for storage, while Bligh’s log daily notes “Fresh Meat & Greens” served at dinner. This sojourn also allowed some pleasant diversions. In Colonel Robert Gordon, the half-Dutch, half-Scottish commander of the now considerable Dutch forces at this Dutch settlement, Bligh found an entertaining companion who shared a fondness for natural history and amateur exploration. Needless to say, Sir Joseph Banks had an associate out this way, botanizing at his behest. Francis Masson, once an under-gardener at Kew, had been at the Cape for a number of years, sending back specimens and seeds to Banks. From Masson’s collections would come plants familiar to generations of British gardeners—gladioli, geraniums and freesias.
Bounty
remained in False Bay for thirty-eight days, during which time she was overhauled from top to bottom, from her rigging to new ballast in her hold, as well as resupplied. Fresh meat, celery, leeks, onions, cabbages and—as a luxury—soft bread were brought on board for storage, while Bligh’s log daily notes “Fresh Meat & Greens” served at dinner. This sojourn also allowed some pleasant diversions. In Colonel Robert Gordon, the half-Dutch, half-Scottish commander of the now considerable Dutch forces at this Dutch settlement, Bligh found an entertaining companion who shared a fondness for natural history and amateur exploration. Needless to say, Sir Joseph Banks had an associate out this way, botanizing at his behest. Francis Masson, once an under-gardener at Kew, had been at the Cape for a number of years, sending back specimens and seeds to Banks. From Masson’s collections would come plants familiar to generations of British gardeners—gladioli, geraniums and freesias.
BOOK: The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty
12.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
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