Dana, Richard Henry, 1815-1882; Sailors; Seafaring life; Voyages and travels
I was called on deck to stand my watch at about three in the morning,
and I shall never forget the peculiar sensation which I experienced on
finding myself once more surrounded by land, feeling the night breeze
coming from off shore, and hearing the frogs and crickets. The
mountains seemed almost to hang over us, and apparently from the very
heart there came out, at regular intervals, a loud echoing sound, which
affected me as hardly human. We saw no lights, and could hardly
account for the sound, until the mate, who had been there before, told
us that it was the "Alerta" of the Spanish soldiers, who were stationed
over some convicts confined in caves nearly halfway up the mountain. At
the expiration of my watch I went below, feeling not a little anxious
for the day, that I might see more nearly, and perhaps tread upon, this
romantic, I may almost say, classic island.
When all hands were called it was nearly sunrise, and between that time
and breakfast, although quite busy on board in getting up water-casks,
etc., I had a good view of the objects about me. The harbor was nearly
land-locked, and at the head of it was a landing-place, protected by a
small breakwater of stones, upon which two large boats were hauled up,
with a sentry standing over them. Near this was a variety of huts or
cottages, nearly an hundred in number, the best of them built of mud
and white washed, but the greater part only Robinson Crusoe like--of
posts and branches of trees. The governor's house, as it is called,
was the most conspicuous, being large, with grated windows, plastered
walls, and roof of red tiles; yet, like all the rest, only of one
story. Near it was a small chapel, distinguished by a cross; and a
long, low brown-looking building, surrounded by something like a
palisade, from which an old and dingy-looking Chilian flag was flying.
This, of course, was dignified by the title of Presidio. A sentinel
was stationed at the chapel, another at the governor's house, and a few
soldiers armed with bayonets, looking rather ragged, with shoes out at
the toes, were strolling about among the houses, or waiting at the
landing-place for our boat to come ashore.
The mountains were high, but not so overhanging as they appeared to be
by starlight. They seemed to bear off towards the centre of the
island, and were green and well wooded, with some large, and, I am
told, exceedingly fertile valleys, with mule-tracks leading to
different parts of the island.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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