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Authors: Apsley Cherry-Garrard

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"Everybody works but Father,
That poor old man,"

but Campbell, who was the only father on board and whose hair was
popularly supposed to be getting thin on the top of his head, may
remember.

We began to make preparations for a run ashore—a real adventure on an
uninhabited and unknown island. The sailing track of ships from England
round the Cape of Good Hope lies out towards the coast of Brazil, and not
far from the mysterious island of South Trinidad, 680 miles east of
Brazil, in 20° 30' S. and 29° 30' W.

This island is difficult of access, owing to its steep rocky coast and
the big Atlantic swell which seldom ceases. It has therefore been little
visited, and as it is infested with land crabs the stay of the few
parties which have been there has been short. But scientifically it is of
interest, not only for the number of new species which may be obtained
there, but also for the extraordinary attitude of wild sea birds towards
human beings whom they have never learnt to fear. Before we left England
it had been decided to attempt a landing and spend a day there if we
should pass sufficiently near to it.

Those who have visited it in the past include the astronomer Halley, who
occupied it, in 1700. Sir James Ross, outward bound for the Antarctic in
1839, spent a day there, landing "in a small cove a short distance to
the northward of the Nine Pin Rock of Halley, the surf on all other parts
being too great to admit of it without hazarding the destruction of our
boats." Ross also writes that "Horsburgh mentions ... 'that the island
abounds with wild pig and goats; one of the latter was seen. With the
view to add somewhat to the stock of useful creatures, a cock and two
hens were put on shore; they seemed to enjoy the change, and, I have no
doubt, in so unfrequented a situation, and so delightful a climate, will
quickly increase in numbers.' I am afraid we did not find any of their
descendants, nor those of the pig and goats."
[31]
I doubt whether fowls
would survive the land crabs very long. There are many wild birds on the
island, however, which may feed the shipwrecked, and also a depôt left by
the Government for that purpose. Another visitor was Knight, who wrote a
book called The Cruise of the Falcon, concerning his efforts to discover
the treasure which is said to have been left there. Scott also visited it
in the Discovery in 1901, when a new petrel was found which was
afterwards called 'Oestrelata wilsoni,' after the same 'Uncle Bill' who
was zoologist of both Scott's Expeditions.

And so it came about that on the evening of July 25 we furled sail and
lay five miles from South Trinidad with all our preparations made for a
very thorough search of this island of treasure. Everything was to be
captured, alive or dead, animal, vegetable or mineral.

At half-past five the next morning we were steaming slowly towards what
looked like a quite impregnable face of rock, with bare cliffs standing
straight out of the water, which, luckily for us, was comparatively
smooth. As we coasted to try and find a landing-place the sun was rising
behind the island, which reaches to a height of two thousand feet, and
the jagged cliffs stood up finely against the rosy sky.

We dropped our anchor to the south of the island and a boat's crew left
to prospect for a landing-place, whilst Wilson seized the opportunity to
shoot some birds as specimens, including two species of frigate bird,
and the seamen caught some of the multitudinous fish. We also fired shots
at the sharks which soon thronged round the ship, and about which we were
to think more before the day was done.

The boat came back with the news that a possible landing-place had been
found, and the landing parties got off about 8.30. The landing was very
bad—a ledge of rock weathered out of the cliff to our right formed, as
it were, a staging along which it was possible to pass on to a steeply
shelving talus slope in front of us. The sea being comparatively smooth,
everybody was landed dry, with their guns and collecting gear.

The best account of South Trinidad is contained in a letter written by
Bowers to his mother, which is printed here. But some brief notes which I
jotted down at the time may also be of interest, since they give an
account of a different part of the island:

"Having made a small depôt of cartridges, together with a little fluffy
tern and a tern's egg, which Wilson found on the rocks, we climbed
westward, round and up, to a point from which we could see into the East
Bay. This was our first stand, and we shot several white-breasted petrel
(Oestrelata trinitatis), and also black-breasted petrel (Oestrelata
arminjoniana). Later on we got over the brow of a cliff where the petrel
were nesting. We took two nests, on each of which a white-breasted and a
black-breasted petrel were paired. Wilson caught one in his hands and I
caught another on its nest; it really did not know whether it ought to
fly away or not. This gives rise to an interesting problem, since these
two birds have been classified as different species, and it now looks as
though they are the same.

"The gannets and terns were quite extraordinary, like all the living
things there. If you stay still enough the terns perch on your head. In
any case they will not fly off the rocks till you are two or three feet
away. Several gannets were caught in the men's hands. All the fish which
the biologist collected to-day can travel quite fast on land. When the
Discovery was here Wilson saw a fish come out of the sea, seize a land
crab about eighteen inches away and take it back into the water.

"The land crabs were all over the place in thousands; it seems probable
that their chief enemies are themselves. They are regular cannibals.

"Then we did a real long climb northwards, over rocks and tufty grass
till 1.30 P.M. From the point we had reached we could see both sides of
the island, and the little Martin Vas islands in the distance.

"We found lots of little tern and terns' eggs, lying out on the bare rock
with no nest at all. Hooper also brought us two little gannets—all
fluffy, but even at this age larger than a rook. As we got further up we
began to come across the fossilized trees for which the island is well
known.

"Four or five Captain biscuits made an excellent lunch, and afterwards we
started to the real top of the island, a hill rising to the west of us.
It was covered with a high scrubby bush and rocks, and was quite thick;
in fact there was more vegetation here than on all the rest we had seen,
and in making our way through it we had to keep calling in order to keep
touch with one another.

"The tree ferns were numerous, but stunted. The gannets were sleeping on
the tops of the bushes, and some of the crabs had climbed up the bushes
and were sunning themselves on the top. These crabs were round us in
thousands—I counted seven watching me out of one crack between two
rocks.

"We sat down under the lee of the summit, and thought it would not be bad
to be thrown away on a desert island, little thinking how near we were to
being stranded, for a time at any rate.

"The crabs gathered round us in a circle, with their eyes turning towards
us—as if they were waiting for us to die to come and eat us. One big
fellow left his place in the circle and waddled up to my feet and
examined my boots. First with one claw and then with the other he took a
taste of my boot. He went away obviously disgusted: one could almost see
him shake his head.

"We collected, as well as our birds and eggs, some spiders, very large
grasshoppers, wood-lice, cockchafers, with big and small centipedes. In
fact, the place teemed with insect life. I should add that their names
are given rather from the general appearance of the animals than from
their true scientific classes.

"We had a big and fast scramble down, and about half way, when we could
watch the sea breaking on the rocks far below, we saw that there was a
bigger swell running. It was getting late, and we made our way down as
fast as we could—denting our guns as we slipped on the rocks.

"The lower we got the bigger the sea which had risen in our absence
appeared to be. No doubt it was the swell of a big disturbance far away,
and when we reached the débris slope where we had landed, flanked by big
cliffs, we found everybody gathered there and the boats lying off—it
being quite impossible for them to get near the shore.

"They had just got a life-line ashore on a buoy. Bowers went out on to
the rocks and secured it. We put our guns and specimens into a pile, out
of reach, as we thought, of any possible sea. But just afterwards two
very large waves took us—we were hauling in the rope, and must have been
a good thirty feet above the base of the wave. It hit us hard and knocked
us all over the place, and wetted the guns and specimens above us through
and through.

"We then stowed all gear and specimens well out of the reach of the seas,
and then went out through the surf one by one, passing ourselves out on
the line. It was ticklish work, but Hooper was the only one who really
had a bad time. He did not get far enough out among the rocks which
fringed the steep slope from which he started as a wave began to roll
back. The next wave caught him and crashed him back, and he let go of the
line. He was under quite a long time, and as the waves washed back all
that we could do was to try and get the line to him. Luckily he succeeded
in finding the slack of the line and got out.

"When we first got down to the shore and things were looking nasty,
Wilson sat down on the top of a rock and ate a biscuit in the coolest
possible manner. It was an example to avoid all panicking, for he did
not want the biscuit.

"He remarked afterwards to me, apropos to Hooper, that it was a curious
thing that a number of men, knowing that there was nothing they could do,
could quietly watch a man fighting for his life, and he did not think
that any but the British temperament could do so. I also found out later
that he and I had both had a touch of cramp while waiting for our turn to
swim out through the surf."

The following is Bowers' letter:

"
Sunday, 31st July.

"The past week has been so crowded with incident, really, that I
don't know where to start. Getting to land made me long for the
mails from you, which are such a feature of getting to port.
However, the strange uninhabited island which we visited will
have to make up for my disappointment till we get to Capetown—or
rather Simon's Town. Campbell and I sighted S. Trinidad from the
fore yardarm on 25th, and on 26th, at first thing in the morning,
we crept up to an anchorage in a sea of glass. The S.E. Trades,
making a considerable sea, were beating on the eastern sides,
while the western was like a mill-pond. The great rocks and hills
to over 2000 feet towered above us as we went in very close in
order to get our anchor down, as the water is very deep to quite
a short distance from the shore. West Bay was our selection, and
so clear was the water that we could see the anchor at the bottom
in 15 fathoms. A number of sharks and other fish appeared at once
and several birds. Evans wanted to explore, so Oates, Rennick,
Atkinson and myself went away with him—pulling the boat. We
examined the various landings and found them all rocky and
dangerous. There was a slight surf although the sea looked like a
mill-pond. We finally decided on a previously unused place, which
was a little inlet among the rocks.

"There was nothing but rock, but there was a little nook where we
decided to try and land. We returned to breakfast and found that
Wilson and Cherry-Garrard had shot several Frigate and other
birds from the ship, the little Norwegian boat—called a
Pram—being used to pick them up. By way of explanation I may say
that Wilson is a specialist in birds and is making a collection
for the British Museum.

"We all landed as soon as possible. Wilson and Garrard with their
guns for birds: Oates with the dogs, and Atkinson with a small
rifle: Lillie after plants and geological specimens: Nelson and
Simpson along the shore after sea beasts, etc.: and last but not
least came the entomological party, under yours truly, with
Wright and, later, Evans, as assistants. Pennell joined up with
Wilson, so altogether we were ready to 'do' the island. I have
taken over the collection of insects for the expedition, as the
other scientists all have so much to do that they were only too
glad to shove the small beasts on me. Atkinson is a specialist in
parasites: it is called 'Helminthology.' I never heard that name
before. He turns out the interior of every beast that is killed,
and being also a surgeon, I suppose the subject must be
interesting. White terns abounded on the island. They were
ghost-like and so tame that they would sit on one's hat. They
laid their eggs on pinnacles of rock without a vestige of nest,
and singly. They looked just like stones. I suppose this was a
protection from the land-crabs, about which you will have heard.
The land-crabs of Trinidad are a byword and they certainly
deserve the name, as they abound from sea-level to the top of the
island. The higher up the bigger they were. The surface of the
hills and valleys was covered with loose boulders, and the whole
island being of volcanic origin, coarse grass is everywhere, and
at about 1500 feet is an area of tree ferns and subtropical
vegetation, extending up to nearly the highest parts. The
withered trees of a former forest are everywhere and their
existence unexplained, though Lillie had many ingenious theories.
The island has been in our hands, the Germans', and is now
Brazilian. Nobody has been able to settle there permanently,
owing to the land-crabs. These also exclude mammal life. Captain
Kidd made a treasure depôt there, and some five years ago a chap
named Knight lived on the island for six months with a party of
Newcastle miners—trying to get at it. He had the place all
right, but a huge landslide has covered up three-quarters of a
million of the pirate's gold. The land-crabs are little short of
a nightmare. They peep out at you from every nook and boulder.
Their dead staring eyes follow your every step as if to say, 'If
only you will drop down we will do the rest.' To lie down and
sleep on any part of the island would be suicidal. Of course,
Knight had a specially cleared place with all sorts of
precautions, otherwise he would never have survived these beasts,
which even tried to nibble your boots as you stood—staring hard
at you the whole time. One feature that would soon send a lonely
man off his chump is that no matter how many are in sight they
are all looking at you, and they follow step by step with a
sickly deliberation. They are all yellow and pink, and next to
spiders seem the most loathsome creatures on God's earth. Talking
about spiders
(Bowers always had the greatest horror of
spiders)
—I have to collect them as well as insects. Needless to
say I caught them with a butterfly net, and never touched one.
Only five species were known before, and I found fifteen or
more—at any rate I have fifteen for certain. Others helped me to
catch them, of course. Another interesting item to science is the
fact that I caught a moth hitherto unknown to exist on the
island, also various flies, ants, etc. Altogether it was a most
successful day. Wilson got dozens of birds, and Lillie plants,
etc. On our return to the landing-place we found to our horror
that a southerly swell was rolling in, and great breakers were
bursting on the beach. About five P.M. we all collected and
looked at the whaler and pram on one side of the rollers and
ourselves on the other. First it was impossible to take off the
guns and specimens, so we made them all up to leave for the
morrow. Second, a sick man had come ashore for exercise, and he
could not be got off: finally, Atkinson stayed ashore with him.
The breakers made the most awe-inspiring cauldron in our little
nook, and it meant a tough swim for all of us. Three of us swam
out first and took a line to the pram, and finally we got a good
rope from the whaler, which had anchored well out, to the shore.
I then manoeuvred the pram, and everybody plunged into the surf
and hauled himself out with the rope. All well, but minus our
belongings, and got back to the ship; very wet and ravenous was a
mild way to put it. During my 12 to 4 watch that night the surf
roared like thunder, and the ship herself was rolling like
anything, and looked horribly close to the shore. Of course she
was quite safe really. It transpired that Atkinson and the seaman
had a horrible night with salt water soaked food, and the crabs
and white terns which sat and watched them all night, squawking
in chorus whenever they moved. It must have been horrible, though
I would like to have stayed, and had I known anybody was staying
would have volunteered. This with the noise of the surf and the
cold made it pretty rotten for them. In the morning, Evans,
Rennick, Oates and I, with two seamen and Gran, took the whaler
and pram in to rescue the maroons. At first we thought we would
do it by a rocket line to the end of the sheer cliff. The
impossibility of such an idea was at once evident, so Gran and I
went in close in the pram, and hove them lines to get off the
gear first. I found the spoon-shaped pram a wonderful boat to
handle. You could go in to the very edge of the breaking surf,
lifted like a cork on top of the waves, and as long as you kept
head to sea and kept your own head, you need never have got on
the rocks, as the tremendous back-swish took you out like a shot
every time. It was quite exciting, however, as we would slip in
close in a lull, and the chaps in the whaler would yell, 'Look
out!' if a big wave passed them, in which case you would pull out
for dear life. Our first lines carried away, and then, with
others, Rennick and I this time took the pram while Atkinson got
as near the edge as safe to throw us the gear. I was pulling, and
by watching our chances we rescued the cameras and glasses, once
being carried over 12 feet above the rocks and only escaping by
the back-swish. Then the luckiest incident of the day occurred,
when in a lull we got our sick man down, and I jumped out, and he
in, as I steadied the boat's stern. The next minute the boat
flew out on the back-wash with the seaman absolutely dry, and I
was of course enveloped in foam and blackness two seconds later
by a following wave. Twice the day before this had happened, but
this time for a moment I thought, 'Where will my head strike?' as
I was like a feather in a breeze in that swirl. When I banked it
was about 15 feet above, and, very scratched and winded, I clung
on with my nails and scrambled up higher. The next wave, a bigger
one, nearly had me, but I was just too high to be sucked back.
Atkinson and I then started getting the gear down, Evans having
taken my place in the pram. By running down between waves we hove
some items into the boat, including the guns and rifles, which I
went right down to throw. These were caught and put into the
boat, but Evans was too keen to save a bunch of boots that
Atkinson threw down, and the next minute the pram passed over my
head and landed high and dry, like a bridge, over the rocks
between which I was wedged. I then scrambled out as the next wave
washed her still higher, right over and over, with Evans and
Rennick just out in time. The next wave—a huge one—picked her
up, and out she bumped over the rocks and out to sea she went,
water-logged, with the guns, fortunately, jammed under the
thwarts. She was rescued by the whaler, baled out, and then Gran
and one of the seamen manned her battered remains again, and we,
unable to save the gear otherwise, lashed it to life-buoys, threw
it into the sea and let it drift out with the back-wash to be
picked up by the pram.

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