Sandwich Islands to Tahiti.--There is great difficulty in ****** this passage across the trades.The whalers and all others speak with great doubt of fetching Tahiti from the Sandwich islands.
Capt.Bruce says that a vessel should keep to the northward until she gets a start of wind before bearing for her destination.In his passage between them in November, 1837, he had no variables near the line in coming south, and never could make easting on either tack, though he endeavoured by every means to do so.
So say the sailing directions for the South Pacific Ocean; and that is all they say.There is not a word more to help the weary voyager in ****** this long traverse--nor is there any word at all concerning the passage from Hawaii to the Marquesas, which lie some eight hundred miles to the northeast of Tahiti and which are the more difficult to reach by just that much.The reason for the lack of directions is, I imagine, that no voyager is supposed to make himself weary by attempting so impossible a traverse.But the impossible did not deter the Snark,--principally because of the fact that we did not read that particular little paragraph in the sailing directions until after we had started.We sailed from Hilo, Hawaii, on October 7, and arrived at Nuka-hiva, in the Marquesas, on December 6.The distance was two thousand miles as the crow flies, while we actually travelled at least four thousand miles to accomplish it, thus proving for once and for ever that the shortest distance between two points is not always a straight line.Had we headed directly for the Marquesas, we might have travelled five or six thousand miles.
Upon one thing we were resolved: we would not cross the Line west of 130 degrees west longitude.For here was the problem.To cross the Line to the west of that point, if the southeast trades were well around to the southeast, would throw us so far to leeward of the Marquesas that a head-beat would be maddeningly impossible.
Also, we had to remember the equatorial current, which moves west at a rate of anywhere from twelve to seventy-five miles a day.Apretty pickle, indeed, to be to leeward of our destination with such a current in our teeth.No; not a minute, nor a second, west of 130degrees west longitude would we cross the Line.But since the southeast trades were to be expected five or six degrees north of the Line (which, if they were well around to the southeast or south-southeast, would necessitate our sliding off toward south-southwest), we should have to hold to the eastward, north of the Line, and north of the southeast trades, until we gained at least 128 degrees west longitude.
I have forgotten to mention that the seventy-horse-power gasolene engine, as usual, was not working, and that we could depend upon wind alone.Neither was the launch engine working.And while I am about it, I may as well confess that the five-horse-power, which ran the lights, fans, and pumps, was also on the sick-list.A striking title for a book haunts me, waking and sleeping.I should like to write that book some day and to call it "Around the World with Three Gasolene Engines and a Wife." But I am afraid I shall not write it, for fear of hurting the feelings of some of the young gentlemen of San Francisco, Honolulu, and Hilo, who learned their trades at the expense of the Snark's engines.
It looked easy on paper.Here was Hilo and there was our objective, 128 degrees west longitude.With the northeast trade blowing we could travel a straight line between the two points, and even slack our sheets off a goodly bit.But one of the chief troubles with the trades is that one never knows just where he will pick them up and just in what direction they will be blowing.We picked up the northeast trade right outside of Hilo harbour, but the miserable breeze was away around into the east.Then there was the north equatorial current setting westward like a mighty river.
Furthermore, a small boat, by the wind and bucking into a big headsea, does not work to advantage.She jogs up and down and gets nowhere.Her sails are full and straining, every little while she presses her lee-rail under, she flounders, and bumps, and splashes, and that is all.Whenever she begins to gather way, she runs ker-chug into a big mountain of water and is brought to a standstill.
So, with the Snark, the resultant of her smallness, of the trade around into the east, and of the strong equatorial current, was a long sag south.Oh, she did not go quite south.But the easting she made was distressing.On October 11, she made forty miles easting; October 12, fifteen miles; October 13, no easting; October 14, thirty miles; October 15, twenty-three miles; October 16, eleven miles; and on October 17, she actually went to the westward four miles.Thus, in a week she made one hundred and fifteen miles easting, which was equivalent to sixteen miles a day.But, between the longitude of Hilo and 128 degrees west longitude is a difference of twenty-seven degrees, or, roughly, sixteen hundred miles.At sixteen miles a day, one hundred days would be required to accomplish this distance.And even then, our objective, l28 degrees west longitude, was five degrees north of the Line, while Nuka-hiva, in the Marquesas, lay nine degrees south of the Line and twelve degrees to the west!