882 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[May i6, 1903. 
— * — 
A Visit to Pitcairn's Island. 
In Three Parts— Part One. 
Before I was quite six j'ears old and not old enough 
to be sent to school, I took a notion to learn to read, 
and on applying to my father to be taught, he turned 
me over to a young unele, who taught me to read and 
write, and put in a whole winter at night doing it. 
As soon as I could read I read everything I could 
get hold of, but books were not so plenty sixty years 
ago as they are now, and at first I could not get many 
of them, I was lucky enough afterwards to get all I 
wanted. I had been reading nine months when one 
morning I was perched up on top of a drygoods box 
in front of a store reading the local news to a party 
of men, Avhen an old gentleman stopped, and after he 
had heard me read awhile and had sized me up, began 
to question me. On my telling him that I had no 
books, he took me to his library and handed me the 
lirst two I ever owned — "Robinson Crusoe" and the 
"Mutiny of the Bounty." Then he told me to use this 
library of his when I wanted more books. I used it 
for many years after this. The library would be con- 
sidered a small one now; then it was the largest one 
in the city. This gentleman's name was Anderson, he 
continued to lend his books to us boys while he lived, 
and at his death he left his library to our public school; 
they still have it. Andrew Carnegie and his brother 
Tom were two of the boys who used this librarj', and 
we both attended the same school, the First Ward 
school in Allegheny. 
This book, the "Mutiny of the Bounty," first directed 
my attention to the Pacific Islands, and I next hunted 
through the library for everything else that told about 
them; then I read all the geography and travels in the 
library and all of Cooper's and Walter Scott's works; 
and when I had got a few years older I began to form 
plans to visit these islands; but I had to wait many 
years before I got to them. On the first day of March, 
1874, I found myself in San Francisco. I had just 
been discharged from the regular cavalry dow^n in 
Texas and had gone to California to see the country; 
I did not see much of it at that time, as it afterward 
turned out, for on the morning after my arrival in San 
Francisco I took a walk down to the docks and saw 
there a large steamer that was taking on stores and 
making ready to go somewhere, and on my asking an 
old sailor, who was hanging around, where the ship 
was going, I was told she was going to the South 
Pacific after whales. 
Here was my chance at last. I did not want to see 
California now; it would be the islands now or never. 
Going on board I asked for the captain, who, after 
he had questioned me and looked at my army dis- 
charges (I had three good ones), shipped me for a 
fireman, I telling him that I had handled engines and 
boilers and could run his engine if it should be found 
necessary at any time. My telling him this was, as 
I afterward found out, the sole reason for him taking 
me; he wanted no fireman, but did want a man who 
could run his engine if necessary. Going ashore I took 
another look at the ship that was likely to be my home 
for the next j'^ear or two; and she afterward turned 
out to be one of the most pleasant homes I ever had. 
She looked more like a man-of-war than a whaler; and 
as I afterward found out, this old captain of ours tried 
to make her as much like a man-of-war as he could. 
He carried a small magazine of small arms, and I 
afterward had charge of it; and we never entered or 
left a port in which one of our naval vessels was lying 
without manning- our yards and dipping our colors. 
This ship was then the largest steam whaler afloat; 
she was too large, in fact, and a year or two after I 
made this voyage in her the company that she belonged 
to sold her. 
I had shipped as a fireman, but I never did any 
firing then; in fact, we carried no firemen, our firing 
being done for us by men who would be sent us from 
each watch on deck, the same men were always sent, 
so after the first few days we did not have to give 
them much instruction. We always attended to the 
water in the boilers ourselves. I would not trust that 
to a Kanaka, and they were our firemen. I should 
not have got a chance to go at all, only our chief engi- 
neer had a day or two before this undertaken to whip 
the whole police force of San Francisco when he was 
drunk; and they had half killed him. He was laid up 
for repairs. I stood his watch at the engine until we 
had got to the Sandwich Islands, and by this time he 
was able to get drunk again, and had the misfortune 
now to run afoul of the captain, who -fired him and 
promoted me. The captain had had this rod in pickle 
for him when he shipped me. I did not know that 
though, but it would have made no difference to me if 
I had. I was bound to see those islands. 
Captain Williams was as fine an officer as ever 
walked a quarter deck, but was very strict; his orders 
had to be obeyed to the letter. After shipping with 
him and before I had gone on board I had a terrible 
account of him given me by the wharf rats. They 
told me that he was one of the most tyrannical cap- 
tains afloat. Captain Samuels, who was sailing the 
ship Dreadnaught out of San Francisco, might be a 
little worse than W^illiams, but not much; they thought 
I had better keep away from him. I had heard all 
about Samuels; who has not heard of him? He may 
not have been more than half as black as these fellows 
painted him, either. I have no doubt now that I could 
have got along with him as well as I did with Will- 
iams, and I got along with him all right. I would 
never want a finer officer than he was. I listened to 
those fellows, then thought that I could stand this 
captain until we should have got as far as Honolulu, 
then if he did not suit me, I could jump his ship and 
come home on the first passenger ship that called there. 
I had money enpugl; yfiih nie to carry mp arovwd the 
glob?, 
We carried five mates, five boat steerers or har- 
pooners, two engineers, or rather two men who were 
rated as engineers; neither I nor my partner had a 
license, and by law we had no business here at all. 
But this company was not paying $90 or $icx) a month 
to a man who would put in one-half of his time looking 
at himself while the ship was under sail; we would not 
cost them half as much. We carried also a carpenter, 
a steward, and a crew of about twenty-five white men 
and sixty natives. Kanakas we called them. We had a 
steamer, but we seldom used the steam except when 
on the whaling ground or when entering or leaving 
port. When the engine was stopped and the ship was 
under sail we engineers would have nothing to do; then 
I would put in my time with the watch on deck learn- 
ing to be a sailor. The ship carried an immense 
spread of canvas, courses, topsails, topgallant and 
royals, and before we got home again there was noth- 
ing about the sailing of the ship that I did not learn; 
at a pinch I could have sailed her home myself. We 
left San Francisco under steam and steamed all the 
way to Honolulu, getting there in eight days, a quick 
trip for us if we did sail on Friday; the crew had pre- 
dicted that in consequence of our having sailed on that 
day it would take us a month to get there. 
As soon as I could get away I went ashore to see the 
island, this would be the first one of my islands. I 
wanted very much to visit the beach on which Cap- 
tain Cook was killed; he had told me a great deal 
about those islands out here, but I could not get to it. 
We iKid come to anchor between the quarantine and 
the city, this seemed to be the regular anchorage in the 
bay. One of our men-of-war, the Hartford, I think it 
was, and a number of merchantmen were at anchor 
here. 
Going ashore I put in an hour or more looking 
around town, but kept out of the drinking places. I 
had found out by this time that to get along with this 
captain of ours we would have to let whisky alone; 
I could do it, and did. At last I found myself out at 
the King's palace, at the edge of the town; it was a 
large white house in the middle of a fine park; and 
seeing that this park seemed to be a public one, I 
walked in, but had not been here long when an orderly 
came to me and said in very good English that the 
King wanted to see me. This summons rather took 
me aback, as the only kings I had ever had any ac- 
quaintance with were those we find in a deck of cards; 
I would rather find them in my hand if there was any 
money on the board, and I hardly knew how to con- 
duct myself before a real king. However, I concluded 
to answer him as I would any other gentleman, "yes, 
sir" or "nor, sir," and let it go at that. 
This worked all right, and after I had apologized 
to him for trespassing on his grounds and he had told 
me that I was welcome there, he took me in to what I 
suppose was his throne room, though the only thing 
in the shape of a throne here was a large arm chair, 
over which was spread a cloak made of feathers, the 
chair and all of the furniture seemed to have come from 
the United States, a large clock certainly had, the 
name on its face said so. 
Next he led the way across the hall to his library, 
a fine one, and we took seats here, then he began to 
question me about the United States and what part of 
them I had come from. He seemed to be well posted 
about the country. Next he gave the orderly, who 
stood behind his chair, an order in the native tongue, 
and he going oft' brought in a tray, on which were 
a bottle of brandy, glasses and a box of cigars. 
He poured out a glass of brandy for the King, and 
was about to fill a second one for me when I stopped 
him, telling him to pour me out only a small quantity; 
then I told the King that I had a wholesome dread of 
Captain Williams and his irons and did not want to 
return on board under liquor. 
"Yes, I know the captain," he said laughing; "tell 
him if he won't call on me I will on loim. I'll see him 
this afternoon." 
"Yes, sir, and about what time shall I say?" 
"Oh, I won't fix the time. I don't want him to 
parade his crew for me." 
The King lit a cigar and pushed the box to me. I 
was taking one, but he told me to light that one, then 
take a dozen to smoke later on. "You won't find any 
like those in town here," he said. "I had those sent 
to me from the United States." 
They were Havanas that would cost me 25 cents each 
in the United States. I took a dozen that I and the 
mates smoked later on. One of them I kept, and 
wrapping it in tinfoil made a case to hold it, and kept 
it for ten years as a reminder of my visit to the King. 
That afternoon the King, in company with Captain 
Williams, came on board. The chief mate had us 
lined up at the gajigway. The King, as he stepped on 
deck, noticed me and stopping in front o'f me, said, 
looking at my feet, "Well, you did not get put in irons 
after all, did you?" 
"No, sir; I made out to escape the irons." 
Turning to the captain he siaid, "I don't want this 
man put in irons on this voyage. Captain, I have him 
tabooed, remember." I was never put in irons. 
We had come to the Sandwich Islands to ship a 
crew of natives, and as soon as we had got them and 
had taken all the coal we could find room for, we 
sailed again, the Navigator Islands or Samoa being 
our next destination. But I never saw those islands, 
and they were about the only ones of all I had ever 
read about and some I had never even heard of that 
I did not see; for when half way to them we met 
whales and began to kill them, and following them up 
they led us away from Samoa. 
The captain's orders were to call in at Valparaiso, 
Chile, about the first of July, and he arranged it so that 
the first saw us of? the harbor. We ran in under steam 
and came to anchor, and I took the first opportunity 
to get ashore. I expected to be here much like a fish 
out of water; I could not speak Spanish. I had once 
thought I could, but on trying it on a Mexican 
(Greaser) after I had given him some of my best 
Spanish he told me in poor English that he did not 
understand much J^nglish- fie lia4 !IQt recognize4 mv 
Spanish ^Jl. ^ ^ 
I had gone ashore with our steward, and as I 
climbed up on the dock a ragged boy about 14 years 
old came running to me and asked me in good Eng- 
lish if I did not want a guide? 
"That is what I want. Where did you get your 
English?" His mother was English; she had taught 
him. She afterward turned out to be Irish though, 
but she had taught her boy to speak good English. 
His name was Juan Blanco — John White. He led me. 
up town to what he thought was a fine sight; it was a 
large bulk store window filled with cheap watches, 
knives, telescopes and nautical instruments, sextants 
and compasses. The boy had never owned a knife; I 
took him in and got him one. The dealer was an 
English Jew. Before I left him I had all his small 
jackknives, six dozen of them, all his hooks and lines, 
combs and looking glasses. I wanted smoking tobacco; 
he did not keep it, but taking a card wrote some 
cabalistic signs (they were in Yiddish, I guess) and 
told Juan to take me to another store farther up the 
street. Here I got the tobacco for 20 cents a pound, 
taking $4 worth of it. I wanted these things to give to 
natives when we touched at their islands; we would 
land at most of them this summer; I would see plenty 
of islands. I was curious to find out what was on that 
card and told Juan to ask the Jew, who spoke no 
English. It was a request for him to sell me what 
I wanted at wholesale, and he did, too. 
He had boys' knee-pant suits, the first I had ever 
seen; they had come from England. I got a suit and 
cap for Juan, and wanted to get him shoes and stock- 
ings, but he would not wear them. As soon as he had 
got his new clothes the boy walked into a back room, 
and pulling off his old ones, put the new ones on, then 
crammed the old ones into a corner, to be got later. 
There was not a hole or corner in the city that he did 
not know; and every one who spoke English knew him; 
he used these men to practice his English on. I had 
him with me every time I came ashore after this; and 
as the other white men in our crew used him as a 
guide, he was kept busy. We had come to meet a brig 
that should have been here with stores for u-s, but she 
did not get in until two days after we did, then we 
transferred our oil to her, took her coal and stores, and 
on the 5th of July sailed again; we celebrated the 
Fourth with a boat race in the harbor. 
Our next port of call was Juan Fernandez, Robin- 
son Crusoe's Island, where we called after fresh beef. 
This was one of the islands I could not miss; it is. 
not the island Defoe places Crusoe on, and there have 
been wasted oceans of ink and much valuable space- 
in our newspapers trying to prove that it is or is not, 
his island. I took a hand in the last controversy that 
was started about it myself a year ago. I think I 
settled it then, for that time at least; no one replied to- 
me, anyhow. It is the island that Alexander Selkirk 
put in his time on, anyhow, whether he was Defoe's 
Crusoe or not. 
I saw here what is pointed out as being Crusoe's- 
cave, and what was, no doubt, his lookout. There may 
be some doubt about the cave, there can be none in re- 
gard to the lookout. He would have had it just where 
it is claimed it is. There is a copper plate fastened up' 
here on the rocks, put here by the crew of a British 
man-of-war, which says that Alexander Selkirk spent 
four years and four months on this island, and that 
he was afterward a lieutenant in the English Navy; 
and it gives the date of his death. 
This island is covered with beef cattle now, and there 
is a colony of Chilians living on it. It is only 400 
miles from Valparaiso. I asked the boys here for 
Crusoe's goats, but they could not understand my 
Spanish, so I failed to find the goats. 
A ship could be loaded in Valparaiso with curiosities 
that are reputed to have come off this island — cones 
made of the wood growing here, wild flowers pressed 
and dried, shells and stones, all off Robinson's island; 
he is called Robinson there, never Crusoe. 
From Crusoe's Island we went back to our old whal- 
ing ground north of the Society Islands, Tahiti, and 
from there worked down until at last we found our- 
selves late in the season off Tasman's Land, south of 
Australia, and ran in to Hobart Town for coal. This 
marks the farthest point that I ever got from home. 
Next we stood northeast again, and by about the first 
of December had got up in the neighborhood of Pit- 
cairn's Island, the scene of the Mutiny of the Bounty. 
I had not visited it, yet I was anxious to see it. I had 
seen all the other islands except Samoaj that I had 
ever heard of, and some that I had never heard of; I 
wanted Pitcairn's Island now; I would need no inter- 
preter on it. I had an old set of charts that covered 
the whole South Pacific, and each day at noon, when 
the mate in charge of the deck "took the sun" I would 
get our position from him and mark it down. I al- 
ways knew as much about where we were as the cap- 
tain did. Our second mate had taught me to take the 
sun months ago; I had known how to take it in theory 
long before I ever saw a ship; and he gave me the 
necessary practice, and I often would borrow a sextant, 
then using my watch that I kept close to Greenwich 
time, I would take the sua myself; then work it out to 
see if the mate and I agreed; we generally did. 
On Saturday, the 19th of December, I came on deck 
just before noon; the fifth mate, Mr. Watson, was 
ready to take the sun; I held his chronometer for him; 
then when he had taken and worked out his position 
he gave me our latitude and longitude; it placed us 
about 130 miles southwest of Pitcairn's Island. The 
mate went below to give the captain his report, ana 
when he came on deck again he went aft to the wheel 
and changed our course a little. When he came for- 
ward again I asked, "Where are we going now, Mr. 
Watson?" 
"Right to the island: the captain means to call in 
there." 
"We should make it before daylight to-morrow, sir, 
if this wind holds." 
"Yes, we may make it by midnight; the wind is rising 
now." 
We were under sail going about eight knots, or over 
nine land miles, an hour, with the wind nearly astern 
of U§. I had no watch t9 stand, our engine was not 
