BOUNTY MUTINY
Meeting With Descendants
Ono of my must treasured memories is the glorious fortune I had in February 1887, of actually meeting and fraternising with the 'descendants of H.M.B. Bounty sailors as ho mutinied in 1789, says Mr John Houghton in the “ English Review.” This was the age of rebellion, for hardly had the shouts of triumph over Sir John Jervis’s smashing defeat of tho combined French and Japanese fleets oil Cape St. Vincent in 1797 died away than the fleet mutinied at Spithead. The men complained of inadequate pay and harsh discipline. Their wrongs were redressed, and all seemed well when there occurred a second mutiny in the North Sea Fleet at tho Nore, commanded by Sir Hyde Parker. Under the leadership of a young and resolute seaman, Richard Parker, the mutineers moored their vessels across the mouth of the Thames in order to prevent all commercial intercourse. Yet, to their everlasting credit bo it remembered that they declared themselves willing to defend their country should the French Fleet appear before their demand for autonomy was granted. When Admiral Duncan the same year shattered or captured the Dutch Fleet off Camperdown, whatever tho wrongs were, these British “bulldogs” of that day did their primary duty as bulwarks of England. To return to the story of tho Bounty, what made this mutiny so thrilling were not only tho events at the time, but the strange though true incidents that resulted, beyond the wildest imagination of even our present-day neurotic Hollywood of Los Angeles (City of Angels), California. Tho example of Pitcairn Island, which is a veritable Eden on Earth, encourages the hope that mankind, un dor favourable conditions, can rise from the depths of depravity and cruelty and make possible tho ideal life pictured in Moore’s ‘‘Utopia.” Briefly, the beginning, like tho end, was good. Tho British Government of that day detailed the Bounty under Captain Bligh to proceed to Tahiti, or Otaheiti, to get a cargo of bread-fruit trees, and take them to Jamaica, West Indies, to try to grow tnem there, and so enrich this island. Discipline -was harsh, and tantamount to cruelty, and there was an inevitable relaxation allowed to the seamen ashore in this congenial work. This, together with the dusky Eves, proved too tempting an Eldorado for them to reface the Royal Navy of that day. Miracle of the Sea They sailed from Tahiti, but mutinied, overpowering the officers —except one or two midshipmen who wont with tho crew—and marooned them. Hence there occurred almost a miracle of tho sea, which remained unique for over a hundred years—namely, tho longest open-boat voyage of practically a shipwrecked crew, nearly 2500 miles to Queensland. Captain Bligh later became Governor of New South Wales, and his picture now hangs in Sydney Art Gallery, or did in 1886 when I saw it. The Bounty passed into oblivion fur 25 years, until 1814—its fate being unknown —when the descendants of the mutineers were discovered on Pitcairn Island. 1 understand an American whaler hove to at this island, thought to be uninhabited, as a likely place at which to fill up her empty fresh-water casks. A boat came out to the vessel and, getting alongside, gave the “Yanks” a double shock by hailing them with tho words. “Heave a rope my hearties!” Tho murder was out! Our Government on being apprised sent out a war-vessel and got a few of the “Old Rations” to bring to England for trial. This vessel was lost, and as tho prisoners were in irons below they were not saved, going down with the rats. What an inferno there had been in that 25 years! After marooning the officers of the Bounty, the mutineers sailed back to Tahiti, captured a crowd of native men and women—an action worse than the “black-birding” ul my days in the South Seas in the ’eighties —got to Pitcairn, stripped tho old “Bounty” and burnt her. The women imitated Moi her Eve, by upsetting the Garden of Eden right away, and then it was just one long series of unprintable horrors, wholesale murdering and reprisals—a suicide club. What completed the misery, or rather hastened the inevitable end, was that the white men discovered bow to produce alcohol from tho roots of a plant. Only one man was left of tho “Bounty” crew, John Adams, who was tho salvation and the instrument cho>en to redeem the - remnant with his Bible and teaching. Thus happened the wonderful regeneration, wherein (he new Adam defeated the “Old Adam,” which 1 viewed with awe and amazement, some sixty years later. A Stormy Passage I was apprenticed on the full-rigged ship “Greta” of Liverpool at the lime. Wo loft Bullock Island, Hunter River, N.S.W., Australia, carrying three thousand tons of coals from Newcastle for San Diego, California, early in ISS7.
We bumped all right off the Three Kings, North of New Zealand, and our fore to gallant mast went like a carrot, carrying away all tho long forestays to dying jibboom, and also the mainstays. Wo all thought it was going to bo “Davy Jones’s Locker” instead ot* Sun Diego. In all truth, the man who christened it the Pacific Ocean ought to try again I The hurricane helped io furl sail for us by wrapping them in ribbons round what rigging was left. We worked liko horses, and then, before wo were refitted, another gentle “Pacific” twinbrother hurricane gut us. L’or dajs and nights we worked by dead reckoning, sun, moon and stars having all gone on strike, “downed tools.” Tho Skipper navigated to clear did deadly groups of reel’s, islets, and atolls and tried to make Pitcairn. Dead-reckoning IS dead-reckoning when the trade winds and respectable regular currents run amok. Anyhow we won through, thank Gud, and found Pitcairn, but nearly too accurately, lor wo were only four knots to tho soutli- ’ wards, a small, solitary island, about as healthy to nestle in as tho Black Rock, or the Old Man of Hoy, Orkney Islands. Wo beat up close and hove to. since, as there was plenty of water and no bottom, is was a waste of time to heave the lead It is impossible to describe the relief, and the revulsions of emotion, or th* grandeur of this lonely isle, a sentinel of the sea, when clothed in sunshine, with all. Nature smiling—the «ame “fella” who had been so grim, sp angry and so cruel. A Roman Banquet Two whale boats, the property of - Queen Victoria, were soon sighted, dancing in tho deep blue waves. Alongside tho Governor or Magistrate (ns far as I remember his name was Mackensie) was seen in tho stern-sheets of one of them. Both were laden with pineapples, bread-fruit, melons, limes, bananas, custard-apples, yams and fisk of all kinds. A Roman banquet indeed! Most of tho fruit was entirely new to many of us. They all camo aboard, and we put a sailor in each boat. Up came the “Garden uf Eden” I and with it old 'Frisco newspapers over a year old from last callers. What magnificent men they were! -They had tho physique of Anglo-Saxons with swarthy faces of a Latin type. They were all uniform so far as not hud any feet covering, but their clothes were a very miscellaneous collection, including mercantile marine and navy outfit mixed up, naval straw hats ami caps with ship’s ribbons of vessels long parsed away to-day, such as Diamond, Kingfisher. Opal. Triumph, Hyacinth, 1 Calliope and all “manner o’ craft.” Returning to Pitcairn, I found perfect equality in all things. When a ship does call and heave to, all hands on tho island collect tho fruit, and things for tho communal trading, and tho goods received in exchange are shared equally. They can then collect a little more on their own to do i litrle private bartering if they wish. We gave them marmalade, tea, coffgp. butter, ships-biscuits (Liverpool pantiles) were all uniform so far as none had anv tinned vegetables, and salt hor-’e (“ Harriet Lane ”), which is about all one could find in the way of luxuries in < “windjammer” fifty years ago. For a few needles my sister had put in my “diddy-box ” wherr T loft Old England I got my pillow-case filled “chock-o-ldock ” ,yith limes. Tho skipper went ashore with Governor Mmkensie in one of the heats with a skeleton crew. All the rest stayed aboard with us and helped in keeping the old “Greta” hove to \V rt played checkers, talked about their ancestors, Mood of our blood, bone ol uur bone, and danced and sang our chanties We were all as bapp s as children “ii a jdyous holiday, a red-letter day lor all ot us. Wo forgot the near parting tor ever, and enjoyed ourselves in the present No Vices Among Islanders. Not one Pitcairner smoked or chew•d, these practices being regarded as sins, nor was there an unclean 01 a tout word, and wc, through our scuse ot decency and their example and mural influence, were all “Sky-pilots,” not avmtors. I am sorry t o say that tho .iiicurs ul sailor language hemmed in Here duly paid up when we left Ihu island. I L was night when the skipper returned aboard. Tho moon was hanging at lull, just on the top oi the skviitw ul Pitcairn. Moro fruit was drought aboard, and a livo kid, uitii which to make a sea-pie for the crew, which we had the following Sunday—a three-decker. I hen camo the finale. Ihu two boats pulled away from the ship’s side into tho silvery moonlight, and tho ciew •sang, resting un their oars, a most couching song, “Good-night.” Every man jack—some were “Shellbacks’ of tho ’forties--was filled with involuntary emotion, and so they vanished, lost in tho shadow of Pitcairn, and we parted liko “ships that pass in the eight’ J
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Bibliographic details
Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 79, Issue 196, 22 August 1935, Page 10
Word Count
1,644BOUNTY MUTINY Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 79, Issue 196, 22 August 1935, Page 10
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