Travels in the Sandwich and Society Islands

Preface

As I am not at liberty to suppose that any one must necessarily 'be acquainted with the earlier sections of a narrative to which this volume forms a continuation, it is proper to inform the reader that the following chapters comprise a third, but distinct, part of an account of travels which I have previously brought up to my departure from the coast of Kamtschatka on board the good whaler-ship Josephine, bound on a voyage intended to embrace* a period of whale-fishing in a lower latitude, and to terminate at the Sandwich Islands.

My chief endeavour in the present volume has been to exhibit a picture of an isolated portion of the great human family, in a stage

VI PEEFACE.

of progress of peculiar interest, since it is that which, at one period or other, has in every Christian state, formed the first step from barbarism towards those degrees of refinement which older nations have severally attained.

When the natives of the Sandwich Islands held their earliest intercourse with Europeans, they seem, indeed, to have been in a condition of society not very unlike that of the inhabitants of our own Britain when the Romans first landed on these shores ; and their present state of advancement is probably about the same as that of the Britons at the time when their most barbarous customs were just giving place to changes for which Roman refinement opened the way.

Two reasons have suggested the introduction of the short historic sketch which precedes the proper matter of the volume. The first of these is, the diflRculty of giving anything like a just picture of the natives of the islands at the present day, unaccompanied by some

PREFACE. VU

sort of review of their condition, as well before as after, their first intercourse with Europeans. The second is, the belief that the importance which the rapid growth of so many new countries on the shores of the Pacific Ocean must shortly give to the Sandwich Islands in particular, renders such a notice desirable in every account of them.

SANDWICH ISLANDS— DECLARATION OF RIGHTS . . 407

TREATIES BETWEEN HAWAII, FRANCE, AND GREAT

BRITAIN 417

TAXATION IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS 422

MUTINY AND MASSACRE AT SEA 424

TRAVELS

IN

THE SANDWICH AND SOCIETY ISLANDS.

CHAPTER I. VOYAaE FROM KAMTSCHATKA TO THE SANDWICH ISLANDS

Departure from Kamtschatka — 'Appearance of the Coast — Auspicious Signs — Fine Weather — Rigour of the Climate — Sudden Change — Loss of Sails — Ship under bare Poles — Seamen confined below — Shift of Wind — Dangerous Condition of the Ship — State of the Barometer — Gale increased to a Typhoon — Phosphoric Light, so called, on the Water — Appearance of the mysterious Light described by Ariel in the "Tempest" — Composition and Character of the Light — Stroke of the Sea — Cessation of the Gale — Our Occupations during the Gale — Character of Sailors — Alteration in our Voyage.

The western breeze which had brought us out of the bay of Avasha continued. The sea was but little agitated, and when the sun dropped beneath the snow-capped mountains of Kamtschatka, not a cloud nor vapour broke the outline of the vast features of the view which the

2 VOYAGE FEOM KAMTSCHATKA

rude shores presented. As we stood contemplating the magnificent spectacle, the breeze gradually grew lighter and lighter, just as it happens in lower latitudes on a summer^s evening ; and, as the stars appeared one by one, from those of the first magnitude to those which the full night present, we ventured to hope, from these propitious signs, that we should have a fine run off the dangerous land, and a prosperous transport to the latitudes where the navigator's cares comparatively speaking cease.

These favourable auguries were the more welcome to us, on account of the particular character of the coast and the climate, combined with the lateness of the season, the 27th of November, at which we sailed. The precursor storm, which invariably announces the setting-in of winter in high latitudes, as well on the eastern shores of Asia as on those of America, and which is always dead on shore, was hourly expected ; while it was twelve days later than any ship had at any time before quitted any part on this coast.

Before midnight the breeze again freshened, and it blew a gentle gale through the night ; and, at eight o'clock the next morning, we were by the reckoning about sixty miles from the land. The breeze continued throughout the secondday ; and such was the clearness of the atmosphere, that when we were considerably more than a hundred miles from the shore, we could plainly distinguish the highest peaks of the giant mountains in the vicinity of the bay of Avasha. During the next two days and nights we had a gradual increase of wind, continually fair, with the same unchanged and cloudless sky ; and, at the hour of sunset on the 1st of December, nothing save the blowing of a few whales, and the snow and ice which still covered our decks, remained to remind us that we were in a more rigorous climate than that of the northern coast of Britain in mid- winter. About this time, when we were 400 miles from the port we had left, from which we had steered nearly due south, without regard to our proper course, that we might the more speedily change our latitude, and with the coast of Japan lying about the same distance west of us, the wind became unsteady and very light, and the weather altogether exhibited symptoms of a great change being at hand. The sea, too, which had been following us from the north-west as steadily as a summer swell, seemed now to be met by a cross-sea running from the eastward. These signs are as well known to the navigators of these regions to indicate a breaking-up of the fine weather, as they are known to the inhabitants on shore to be the signal of the approach of the storm which unfailingly breaks on the coast at this season ; and we began to shorten sail before the day closed. The sky, too, was for the first time

b2

4 VOYAGE I^ROM KAMTSCHATKA

entirely obscured ; yet, until near midnight, there was but little wind, which blew, however, at intervals from all points of the compass between west and north-east. But about that hour, after several short lulls, a strong gale from the east, accompanied by a heavy swell, came suddenly down upon us with so much force, that it became necessary to furl every sail with the utmost expedition ; and the ship was now hove-to under her storm-staysails, with her head towards the north. Scarcely, however, was this manoeuvre accomplished, before the gale augmented in violence, reducing our staysails to shreds, and defying every further effort of the seamen to retain any government over the vessel's movements. Snow, too, now accompanied the wind, which still augmented at every gust, until tKe ship, thrown half on her side, with a heavy sea running, and under her mere bare poles (as seamen call their masts when no canvas is spread), swept bodily before the gale, at the rate of four or five knots an hour.

The seamen, whose presence on deck was no longer of any avail, and very dangerous to their safety, all now, at the command of the captain, ensconced themselves beneath the hatches in the forecastle, and the officers retired to the cabin, leaving nothing open abaft, save a portion of the top of the companion. The worst was, the little hope we entertained of a change; for our barometer, upon which the captain had great reason to rely, indicated that the gale was increasing in force ; and the occasional mere wash of the tumbling waves, as they passed under us, warned us of the consequences that must follow the ship's receiving the full stroke of the sea on her side. She rose, however, to the top of the waves, as they rapidly followed one another, and sank again into the hollows between them, ^ath such undeviating regularity, during the whole of this night, that if our masts only stood, we had little doubt of weathering the gale. But about day-break on the morning after the change of weather, while the glass was still falling, a new danger threatened us. The tempest before which we were driving had been preceded, as is very commonly the case at sea, by a swell from the same quarter, which had easily put down that which had attended the north-west wind, and the sea had since run regularly before the gale. In the mean time, when we first hove-to, our ship's head was placed to the northward, under the impression of it being most likely that the wind, if it changed, would haul to the southward ; in which case we should head the sea, while it continued to run in the same direction as before, instead of receiving it, as we must necessarily do in the opposite case, upon our broadside. But the wind suddenly shifted to the north-east, and the sea was now b VOYAGE EEOM KAMTSCHATKA

liove up into pyramids, and ran with such violence, and irregular course, that the ship laboured heavily, falling sometimes by her bow, and as often stern foremost, into the pits and hollows between the seas, and was in danger of foundering. The barometer, too, still indicated that the force of tlie wind was still augmenting.

Aloft, we already presented the appearance of a perfect wreck. The gale at the beginning, having come on with such suddenness, none of the sails had been very nicely furled or handed, and the greater part of them were already blown from the masts or from the yard-arms up to the very reef-points, so that the fragments hanging in ropes' ends and shreds served to increase the resistance offered to the wind, and to keep the ship down on her side.

After another hour or two, the sea became more regular, but the barometer, now at 29°, was still falling, and the force of the wind augmenting. If terror, as some in search of the origin of our impressions seem to have discovered, be the true source of the sublime, there was now strife enough among the elements to whose fury we were exposed, to touch us with the most elevated sensations. The tenants of the cabin knew nothing of those of the forecastle, but from time to time, we severally crept up the companion-ladder to endeavour to find some sign of the tempest abating. The snow, which had

^0 THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. 7

accompanied the wind when the gale commenced, no longer fell ; but nothing was visible in any direction beyond the tops of the nearest seas that rolled around us, which the wind converted to spray and mist that limited the vision to three or four hundred yards on all sides around. Such, indeed, was the effect of this wild commotion of the elements, that I was tempted to keep my place at the companion for an hour at a time, to watch the seas that followed or broke ahead of us, one single wave of which, had the masts gone, which would have lessened our drift and brought the ship upright, would have sufficed to overwhelm us in a moment : for it was by the wake left in our drift, causing the waves to break or turn to foam and mist, that the wind drove over us in too light a form to damage any portion of our hull, and the rapidity with which the ship drifted while on her side, that she was protected from the crash of the furious seas that broke around her.

No change took place during the day that succeeded the night upon which the tempest commenced. We continually watched the barometer with the utmost anxiety. Still it fell ; and the day closed without any symptoms of the wind abating. But during the middle watch of the night, soon after it had been observed that the barometer had fallen 28ff, we had the

8 VOYAGE FEOM KAMTSCHATKA

opportunity of witnessing an extraordinary phenomenon. I shall endeavour to describe it as it presented itself to us, with the addition of some information I accidentally acquired concerning its character.

I had been some time standing or holding on alone upon the upper step of the companion-ladder, occupying the weary time in watching the breaking heads of the foaming waves that successively robed the waters with a sparkling mantle like a hoar - frost, that was visible through the darkness which obscured every other object, when I was suddenly struck with amazement at seeing a light aloft. I gazed upon the strange apparition for a moment or two, with too great astonishment to admit of any exercise of the reason, or of recalling to mind any thing I had seen or heard of, resembling it, and, perhaps, not wholly free from such ecstasy, as, at a time like the present, might be natural even to the coldest temperament among us. It would have been in vain to attempt to give notice of this appearance, to any one below, without descending the ladder, on account of the noise made by the wind and the sea. But at the moment I was about to descend to the cabin, I found our second mate by my side, arrived in search of some sign of the tempest abating. I instantly pointed out to him the flaming stranger, now in rapid motion upon the mast in front of us, and upon the higher of the yards. The mate, however, saw the light without partaking of my surprise ; and, indeed, had scarcely called it by its sea name, '^ jack-o^-lantern," before I recognised the phenomenon, which I had often enough heard of, yet, though I had weathered out many a winter gale, I had never seen before ; and which has, perhaps, never been so distinctly described as in one especial instance which now came to my recollection. No description, indeed, of any natural phenomenon that I know of, might more exactly present to our minds the image of anything not before our eyes, none more vividly represent that which we now saw, than the account given by the tricksy spirit Ariel, of his own appearance during his performance of his part in the storm in the first act of the ^' Tempest," which has no doubt often passed for a pure creation of the poet's fantasy rather than for an illustration of a remarkable natural phenomenon : —

" I boarded the king's sbip : now on the beak,

Now on the waist, in every part,

I flam'd amazement : sometimes I'd divide,

And burn in many places ; on the topmast,

The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,

Then meet and join : Jove's lightnings, the precursors

O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary

And sight-out-running were not."

As we gazed upon the flaming light, it at

10 VOYAGE S'ROM KAMTSCHATKA

first appeared as if it were stationary in respect to the masts and yards, which we could not perceive, and only in motion on account of the movement of the ship when she rolled to leeward and partially rose again as the swell, after passing under her, left her sinking into the hollows between the running seas. It was presently, however, apparent, that the mysterious light was in rapid motion along the ship's masts and yards, and that it was sometimes on the mainmast, which it ascended and descended with the rapidity of thought, and sometimes upon the lee and weather yard-arms, along which it played horizontally. But once or twice, as the ship rolled more suddenly to leeward, it appeared to quit the top of the mast, or the yard-arms, yet quickly to re-attach itself, as the vessel rolled again towards the direction in which it flamed. At other times, as if it were cut by the rigging in its rapid flight across the yards or upon the mast, it was divided into several parts, which quickly united again after quitting the extremities of the yards or masts.

That which I heard and can confidently report concerning this light, and which may be new to many, if not to all, even of those who have actually seen it, was related to me by the officer who witnessed the curious phenomenon with me on this terrible night. He had navigated these seas for many years, and he assured me that its appearance in these latitudes was very frequent, and that the seamen on board the whalers often gave chase to it upon the masts during gales of wind of less violence than that which we experienced. He informed me, indeed, that he had himself taken it at the top of the mast, where it was flaming and playing off and on. He said it appeared to emit but a dull light when approached, and that, when touched, it was found to consist of a substance of a clammy nature, and of little solidity, which caused a smarting sensation to the hand, and that it was scarcely visible when exposed to the light.

By midnight the tempest seemed to have reached its utmost fury, when our barometer had sunk down to 27tVo-. About this time, while our judgments were hovering between hope and despair, the chief officer, who was the oldest sailor on board, after mounting the ladder and descending, gave it as his opinion that the ship would not weather the gale. At these words of despair, the first that were uttered, the captain and one of the mates mounted the ladder also, and I followed them as soon as I could detach myself from the sofa, to which I was lashed. There was now nothing to be seen save the light called phosphoric, which, as before, rendered only the foaming seas visible, amidst the profound darkness

12 VOYAGE I'ROM KAMTSCHATKA '

which obscured every other object. In my own judgment I had not much confidence; I wished merely to observe what change might have taken place, but I could perceive none. The captain descended without uttering a syllable, but the mate said, '^ I have weathered a typhoon in her before,'' and then descended also.

The most trying moment we experienced occurred soon after this. We were now all below. The captain was on his sofa in his state-room, the door of which was still open, while the chief mate and myself remained attached each to one end of the sofa in the cabin, and the two other mates were lying on the cabin floor to leeward, when one of the seas, the stroke of which we had so much dreaded, partially struck us, and turned its foaming head upon our deck.

But it may be as well, as every one is not acquainted with the language of the ocean, to explain what is meant by seamen when they speak of the stroke of the sea. Sometimes the waves during a violent gale are long, or, in other words, the spaces between them wide in proportion to their height, and they run regularly, but often it is otherwise. When they are regular and long, the ship, if under any government at all, is hove-to, under the close-reefed maintopsail, or one or more storm-staysails. In this position she rises majestically?

TO THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. IS

with her head partially turned towards the heaving seas, and bows again and falls into the hollow between them, as they successively pass under her. But, owing to her first receiving the force of the sea in this case upon her weather-bow, she falls off from the wind as she rises, so that, when in the trough of the sea, she has her side turned directly towards the next wave. At this time, however, she increases any little headway she may owe to the smallest sail under which she is lying-to, which gives power to the helm, which now brings her again sufficiently to the wind to receive the sea upon her weather-bow as before. In this state of things there is but little danger. The sea cannot bodily strike the ship, for she is always ready, and rises as gradually as majestically to the approaching swell. Nor is it very likely she will be even struck by the curling top of the wave, which, on account of the pace at which the swell runs, is generally left upon the back, if it may be so termed, rather than running down the front of the wave, as it is seen upon a bar or beach. There are several modifications, however, of this condition of the sea during a storm, which subject a vessel, even when lying-to, to be dangerously struck by its full force. The sea may run too short to give the ship time to rise, owing to the suddenness with which the gale came on, or a shift of wind

14 VOYAGE FEOM KAMTSCHATKA

may throw the waves up into pyramids, which tumble over with such irregularity that, in case of the vessel not coming quickly to the wind, and heading the sea, they may strike her side, or, falling on board, sweep the decks, and endanger the safety of the ship. When, however, all power over the ship is lost, by the impossibility of setting sail, if the sea is short and irregular, the vessel is continually exposed to its stroke, and to imminent danger of foundering. Our case was the worst that could occur. We had had no government over the movements of the ship from the beginning, and, in consequence of the sudden manner in which the gale came on, the sea was short in proportion to its height and the rapidity with which it ran, and very irregular, on account of the sudden change of wind which had taken place during the storm, which had thrown up the waves in the manner just mentioned. Thus there was constant danger of the sea bodily striking the ship, or of the curling top of a wave falling on board of us.

Hitherto we had escaped the chief and secondary danger; but now the sea partially struck the ship and fell on board of her. The concussion was terrible, and for a few moments all seemed lost. The ship staggered, as if she were broken to pieces, and the water rushed down the companion with such force as to leave us uncertain whether we were already buried in the deep, or had yet a hope left of being saved. But we were not long in this position before the water ceased to pour down, and that which was in the cabin, now finding its way to the half-deck, enabled us to reach the top of the companion-ladder; to which we hastened, in the hope of discovering the amount of the injury we had received, and the nature of the new perils to which we might be exposed. The ship was still driving rapidly upon her side, but nothing, far or near, was to be seen, save the foaming seas, which the luminous properties of the ocean still rendered visible on every side around.

About an hour after this, while the wind seemed undiminished, and the sea still threatened to complete our disasters by one fell stroke, a slight rise of our barometer filled us with hopes we had hardly entertained since the gale began. Another hour, and the comforter that administered the first hope, confirmed the promising signs by a rise of two degrees, and before daybreak we perceived a sensible diminution in the force of the wind.

As soon as there was light enough to perceive anything upon deck, we found all our bulwarks gone fore and aft, and of seven boats which the whaler carried, five were smashed to atoms or gone overboard, the two remaining being saved only from having' been placed

16 VOYAGE FBOM KAMTSCHATKA

upon a frame set at ten feet above the ship's deck. But it was not yet possible for any one to keep the deck long enough to ascertain whether any planks were stove, or whether any more damage were done than was already apparent.

The wind continued to moderate, and by nine o^clock it had suflSciently abated to admit of our keeping the deck with caution. The waves were, however, running higher than ever, while the rapidity of the vessel's drift, which had secured her from the full stroke of the sea, was much diminished. An attempt was now made to set a storm-staysail to bring her head to the wind, but it was blown to shreds before it was half hauled out. Nevertheless, the wind still abated, and by twelve o'clock we were able to set this sail. At two, the men were busily occupied clearing away the wreck, and before this day closed we were once more before the wind, under such new sails as we were able to get bent, and running with the ship's head to the southward, before a long, rolling, unbroken sea. The stars now, too, once more appeared; and as we had been two nights without sleep, the ship was put under easy sail, that as many as possible of the crew might retire to rest. I must add, that our preservation was chiefly attributed to the buoyancy of our cargo of oil, which caused the rapidity oi the ship's drift, and gave the sea time to break in our wake, after the manner described.

The only distraction by which we were able to relieve the many weary hours we spent below during the tempest, without any light by day or by night, save the glimmer of a small lamp, which served, if possible, to increase the gloom, arose from a somewhat forced conversation, probably very different from that which many might think we were most likely to have indulged in. Those who have never been for a long time exposed to similar perils, might paint to their imaginations the hardy seamen of the whaler, full of impatience and round oaths, and a traveller wearying the master and his officers with questions, and listening with attentive ear, even for one word of hope or of consolation. But nothing would be further from figuring the effects of our condition than this. While we sat apart, or stood at times upon the companion-ladder, nothing was said save now and then a few words concerning imagined changes in the weather. But sometimes while we were assembled, seated upon the cabin deck, to eat our biscuits, which comprised all the food we were in a condition to obtain, the thoughts of the sailors wandered to rural scenes they had witnessed on shore, which suggested subjects for other remarks. They all referred with envy to the condition of the cultivators of the soil.

*' How mad was I to embrace the life of the sea ! '^ said one, " How happy should I have been," said another, '^ had I followed my father's calling, the best which my country offered, and been content to cultivate the land ! " '' Once more on shore," said a third, " I will never again put my foot on shipboard." But the sufferings of seamen duripg a storm have little enduring effects. While the gale rages, '* Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground — long heath, brown furze, — anything;" but the ship is no sooner under canvas again, than all their troubles are forgotten. The worst consequences of this storm to the ship and the crew was, the loss it caused by the captain being obliged to abandon the intention with which he had sailed, of prosecuting his whale fishing in the milder latitudes, on account of the loss of our boats ; instead of which, therefore, he determined to steer directly for the Sandwich Islands.

Chapter II. Voyage From Kamtschatka To The Sandwich Islands

(continued).

Treacherous Calm — Unfavourable Signs — Speculations upon the Action of the Wind — Stroke of the Wind — Effects of the Change — Yiolent Gale — Wind moderates — Description of a Ship lying-to — Description of wearing a Ship — Making Sail after a Storm — Observations to discover the Ship's Place — First Appearance of Birds — Occupations of the Crew — Passage of the Meridian of 180th Degree — Approach to the Sandwich Islands — Making the Land — Character of our Chronometers — Passage between two of the Islands — Appearance of the Land — Scenes on Shore — Arrival at Honolulu.

For twenty-four hours after we had fairly weathered the typhoon, or hurricane of the Pacific, the wind continued to moderate until we had again all sail set ; and, at the approach of the second night after the gale, it almost suddenly fell calm. But a heavy rolling sea still ran from the north-east, which seemed to indicate that the weather continued stormy in that direction. Neither was there anything assuring in the appearance of the sky, which was covered

c2

20 VOYAGE FEOM KAMTSCHATKA

with heavy clouds, either stationary, or moving slowly in opposite directions.

We were now spmewhat anxious and full of speculation concerning the quarter from which the next wind might blow, on account of the condition of the ship, and of that of the crew who were wearied out by total want of rest for forty-eight hours, and the necessary labour of clearing away the wreck and refitting, in which they had been since engaged. Our doubts and conjectures were not, however, of long duration. Before the close of the day, we perceived the clouds in such rapid motion, passing from west to east, above our heads, that we were warned of the necessity of preparing for a strong wind ; and there remained nothing but the topsails, double-reefed, when we had plain notice that the elements were about to make good their threats. While all eyes were turned in the direction in which we expected the wind, a seaman on the watch in the maintop cried out, "Prepare for wind !'' and presently the waves, still running high from the north-east, were observed turning their white heads, in the direction of the west, which was upon our starboard quarter as we lay. The topsail-halyards were now let go, and the seamen stood by the braces on both sides, waiting a second command.