CHAPTER FOUR

Spithead, 1787

Preparation for the South Pacific

Lieutenant Bligh came ashore after Britannia reached the Downs on 31 July 1787, and exactly one week later he received ‘flattering news’. It came from the office of Sir Joseph Banks, a man of considerable political and social influence, who, like Duncan Campbell, became a friend and mentor. The letter advised Bligh he had been named as commander and purser for the breadfruit expedition to the South Seas.

Profoundly honoured, Bligh wrote of his gratitude in a letter to Banks:

No. 4 Broad-Street, St George’s, East

August 6, 1787.

Sir,

I arrived yesterday from Jamaica and should have instantly paid my respects to you had not Mr Campbell told me you were not to return from the country until Thursday. I have heard the flattering news of your great goodness to me, intending to honour me with the command of the vessel which you propose to go to the South Seas, for which, after offering you my most grateful thanks, I can only assure you I shall endeavour, and I hope succeed, in deserving such a trust. I await your commands, and am, with the sincerest respect,

Yours, etc.

Wm Bligh.

Campbell and Banks jointly created this exceptional opportunity for the talented thirty-two-year-old Bligh. When it came to nominating the commander, Banks had no hesitation in recommending Bligh given the impressive role he played in the successful completion of Cook’s third Pacific voyage, especially after the captain was murdered. Campbell, too, held his niece’s husband in high regard following the four years of service Bligh completed with him in his merchant service.

Sir Joseph had proposed the expedition and received King George III’s endorsement, but when he and the then-titled Commissioners for Exercising the Office of Lord High Admiral of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland – later known more simply as the Admiralty – set about looking for a ship, there was none within the Royal Navy’s fleet of around 300 vessels that could be suitably converted for the mission. So they turned to the merchant service, or more specifically, Duncan Campbell, for assistance.

Bethia, a small trading ship that had been built in Hull in 1784, was chosen then purchased by the Navy Board for approximately £1,950. After being renamed His Majesty’s Armed Vessel Bounty in recognition of the king’s generosity, she was dispatched to Deptford and put into dock for a refit, which was to be supervised by both Bligh and Sir Joseph. The modifications were to be extensive and unique because this was to be a voyage like no other: a botanical undertaking in which Bounty would become a floating greenhouse.

Campbell detailed the sale of Bethia in a letter to his son, Dugald, who was residing in Jamaica:

Bligh is now fitting out a small ship in the King’s Service which I helped procure him the command of, he is going to Otaheetee to bring the breadfruit plant to your Island and St. Vincent. This command is what I alluded to in a former letter. Though he goes out only as a Lieutenant yet if his conduct is approved it is the sure road to being made a Captain. On his return, this Lord Howe [the First Lord of the Admiralty] has absolutely promised.

The latter point rankled Lieutenant Bligh after his appointment was announced. He was obdurate in his own mind that as master of the vessel it was only fitting that he be promoted to the rank of captain, a theory reinforced by the recent precedent of another lieutenant, Robert Moorsom, who had been elevated to that position for a surveying voyage to the East Indies. Bligh subsequently wrote to Duncan Campbell saying the difficulties Moorsom would confront ‘are not likely to be any way equal to those I am to encounter’. But there was nothing he could do about it – except make a success of the mission and hope for the appropriate recognition.

Bounty was by the standards of the day a small ship – a ninety-foot, three-masted and full-rigged vessel with a beam of just twenty-four feet, a draft of eleven feet, four inches and a displacement of 220 tons, as compared to Cook’s Endeavour at 368 tons, and Resolution at 462 tons. The design featured no superstructures, which meant all accommodation and facilities were below deck. The tallest of the three masts stood at eighty-seven feet; the fore and main masts each carried three yards while there were two on the mizzenmast. In keeping with superstition at the time, Bounty’s ‘pretty’ figurehead under the bowsprit was a woman dressed in a riding outfit. It was created around the theory of the day that a female figurehead, often bare-breasted, would shame the seas into being calm.

If Bligh had been consulted on the selection of a ship for the expedition then Bounty would certainly not have been his choice. After his experiences with Captain Cook in the Southern Ocean and across the Pacific, he would have preferred a larger ship, but Bounty it was and he had to do the best he could with her. One thing in Bounty’s favour was that like Cook’s Endeavour, she had been designed as a collier, so while she was a small vessel she featured high internal volume and excellent carrying capacity.

The safe transportation of the plants was the ultimate challenge, and everything to do with the refit centred around that. Crew comfort was secondary: even the great cabin, as Bligh explained, was modified: ‘the great cabin was appropriated for the preservation of the plants … it had two large skylights and on each side three scuttles for air, and was fitted with a false floor cut full of holes to contain the garden pots in which the plants were to be brought home …’ Water would be at a premium when caring for the breadfruit plants, so an ingenious system of capturing any overflow was created. The deck was covered with lead and pipes were fitted at the forward corners of the cabin to carry any excess water that drained from the plants into tubs below deck for future use.

Not even the commander was spared when it came to the plants having priority over everything else. He had a small cabin near the side of the ship as his sleeping quarters, and an equally small area amidships for dining. The ship was so short of space that the arms chest containing weapons had to be located in the quarters of the mates and midshipmen, a circumstance that would, months later, greatly assist the mutineers. On deck, Bounty’s armament was also kept to a minimum: four short-carriage four-pounder cannons and ten half-pounder swivel guns.

During the refit Bligh revealed his talent and skills as a far-sighted and highly experienced master mariner when he called for two major modifications to Bounty, both designed to make her a safer and more manageable ship, particularly when locked in the teeth of a savage Southern Ocean gale and enormous seas. Both decisions were influenced by his experiences as master for Captain Cook aboard Resolution. The first call was for the masts to be reduced in height: this involved the removal of the masts from the ship so the lower of the three sections could be shortened. The lower and topsail yards were also reduced in length. ‘I thought them too much for her,’ Bligh commented, ‘considering the nature of the voyage.’

Then, when Bounty came out of the dock at Deptford on 3 September, Bligh effected another major alteration – a reduction in the amount of ballast, which was primarily iron. With the meticulous foresight of a seasoned mariner he ‘gave directions that only nineteen tons of iron should be taken on board instead of the customary proportion which was forty-five tons’. He reasoned: ‘The stores and provisions I judged would be fully sufficient to answer the purpose of the remainder, for I am of opinion that many of the misfortunes which attend ships in heavy storms of wind are occasioned by too much dead weight in their bottoms.’

When it came to the selection of the crew, it was inevitable Bligh would have a significant input, particularly with the appointment of officers. This was seen as a captain’s right, and more often than not those chosen were friends and acquaintances with whom the captain had previously shared favourable experiences at sea. Alternatively the chosen men had come with strong references from family or respected friends and associates. Such was the case with Fletcher Christian. Christian having impressed Bligh himself when sailing with him aboard Britannia, was also strongly recommended for the Bounty voyage by Captain Taubman, a relation of Christian’s who made a special trip from the Isle of Man to London to present his case to the captain.

Signing onto any ship meant you put your life in your captain’s hands; trusting their judgement and skills as a seafarer. Many of Bligh’s other Bounty crew had already sailed with him, or were recommendations from Banks, other captains, friends and family connections. Lawrence Lebogue, who had been his sailmaker aboard Britannia, took up the same position on Bounty. Quartermaster John Norton and the young seventeen-year-old Thomas Ellison also came across from Britannia, as did Robert Lamb who became Bounty’s butcher. From Bligh’s extended family and friends came Bounty’s midshipmen Thomas Hayward, John Hallett (aged fifteen), Peter Heywood (also fifteen) and George Stewart. The gunner, William Peckover, had also sailed with Captain Cook on all three voyages. There were two other significant appointments, both of which would bring Bligh grief. The master, John Fryer, was unknown to Bligh prior to the Bounty mission but was chosen for the position because of the impressive way he worked when the ship was being prepared for the voyage. The most frustrating appointment was that of Thomas Huggan, the surgeon. Bligh disliked him from the moment he first saw him and considered him a lazy and incompetent drunkard, so much so that he immediately tried to find a replacement. He was unable to achieve this, so as a precaution he appointed a surgeon’s mate, Thomas Ledward, a man who held medical qualifications.

How the remainder of the crew came to be aboard is not clear, however. As was the case with the majority of Royal Navy vessels, most were drawn from the lower levels of society: men whose backgrounds, be they fine or fearsome, would remain unknown.

There is ample evidence to suggest Bligh was highly aware of the need to have his crew as comfortable as possible and in good health for the duration of the voyage. For example, his exceptional experience under the tutelage of Captain Cook saw him insist before leaving London that the crew manning Bounty included a fiddler, the latter’s role being to bring entertainment during their long evenings at sea, promoting the crew’s physical well-being by involving them in dancing for exercise.

Bligh’s only serious problem prior to departure had nothing to do with Bounty’s crew, her seaworthiness or appropriateness: it was all to do with her overall length. At just ninety feet, Bounty was deemed too small to include a complement of marines on board – a militia to protect the captain and defend the ship. If she had been a larger ship-of-war the captain would have been entitled to have more crew and marines on board, but as it was, he did not even have another commissioned officer to support him. Instead, he would have to place his faith in the lieutenants he had chosen, men he was certain would be trustworthy. In time, these expectations would prove to be very wrong.

Bligh had obviously registered his concerns about the ship – her shortcomings and the absence of a militia – with his family, because on 21 September 1787 his father-in-law, Richard Betham, replied to an earlier letter from Bligh, saying in part:

…I have a different idea of it [the voyage] from what I had conceived before I was acquainted with the circumstances of the vessel, and the manner in which it is fitted out.

Government I think have gone too frugally to work; both the ship and the complement of men are too small in my opinion for such a voyage. Lord Howe may understand Navy matters very well, but I suppose mercantile projects are treated by him with contempt. Yet, in my opinion, the bringing of the breadfruit tree in the West India Islands must be as beneficial to them, as the bringing of the potato plant from Virginia by Sir Walter Raleigh to be cultivated in Great Britain hath been of benefit to us and to all Europe. However, I’m most solicitous about the success of the voyage on your account, that it may not only be the means of your promotion but attended with such emoluments as may enable you to live comfortably after the toils of the sea are passed…

I always imagined you would have been made Master and Commander on your going out, and some navy officers here persuaded me that you will have a commission for that purpose to be opened with your instructions in a certain latitude at sea – as no promotions in time of peace are made at land.

Unfortunately, Richard Betham’s wish for a promotion for his son-in-law during the early stages of the voyage did not eventuate. He remained Lieutenant William Bligh.

Many others supported the belief that Bounty was not an appropriate or suitably manned vessel for the voyage. One was Lord Selkirk, who had hoped his son, Dunbar Douglas, would be able to join Bounty on the voyage, but whom Bligh was unable to accommodate because there wasn’t an appropriate position available. On 14 September, Lord Selkirk wrote to Sir Joseph Banks regarding Bounty, saying in part:

I got some of these particulars from an officer of the Navy who happened to be here just now on a visit; who tells me that this establishment of Bligh’s vessel is that of a cutter, and says it is highly improper for so long a voyage; only 24 able seamen, and 21 of all others, without a lieutenant or any marines, with only a surgeon, without a surgeon’s mate which [misses] from its being considered as a cutter, whereas in a sloop of war, they have besides Lieutenant and a surgeon and his mate…

While Bounty was being modified for the voyage to the South Seas, Governor Arthur Phillip, under instructions from King George III, had departed from England with the First Fleet to establish a convict colony at Botany Bay. Coincidentally, this and Bligh’s expedition had a common link: Sir Joseph Banks was also the greatest advocate for the establishment of the penal colony. Then, as the eleven ships in the First Fleet headed south in the Atlantic, the possibility arose for the two voyages to become further intertwined.

Aware of the Bounty voyage, Phillip wrote from Rio de Janeiro to the undersecretary of state for the Home Department, Sir Evan Nepean, on 2 September 1787 with a suggestion: ‘I likewise mentioned [in previous communiqués] the slops for the women not being sent down before we sailed, and the want of musket-balls and paper cartridges for the use of the garrison, as likewise tools to keep the small arms in repair; those articles will, I hope, be sent out in the ship that goes for the breadfruit.’ However, Bounty was not required to carry a cargo for the new settlement.

It would have been a remarkable coincidence for Bligh to have visited the outpost during the earlier stage of its establishment, given his later appointment as governor of the colony. Even so, he is reported to have suggested a desire to visit Botany Bay during the leg of his voyage from Adventure Bay to Tahiti. Possibly, because the initial order for Bounty was to sail the shortest route to Tahiti – west-about around Cape Horn – consideration was not given to her carrying supplies for Governor Phillip. Bligh’s orders were to take the alternative route, via the Cape of Good Hope and beneath what is now Australia, only if the prevailing weather conditions at the world’s most fearsome cape, ‘the Horn’, prevented the ship from making a safe passage and entering the South Pacific.

It was this same order that was burdening Bligh: it imposed a rapidly escalating level of pressure onto the preparations because the later Bounty departed, the more likely she would be confronted by unfavourable and impenetrable headwinds at the Cape.

Prior to leaving, Bligh’s calculations saw the ship provisioned for an eighteen-month voyage, with more supplies being secured along the way:

In addition to the customary allowance of provisions, we were provided with sauerkraut, portable soup, essence of malt, dried malt and a proportion of barley and wheat in lieu of oatmeal. I was likewise furnished with a quantity of ironwork and trinkets to serve in our intercourse with the natives in the South Seas: and from the board of longitude I received a timekeeper [K2], made by Mr Kendal [sic].

Bligh was already well acquainted with English watchmaker Larcum Kendall’s chronometers, based on John Harrison’s ingenious marine timekeepers that allowed for navigation at sea with greater accuracy. Captain Cook had taken K1 and K3 with him on his second and third voyages into the South Pacific.

Bounty headed downriver from Deptford under the guidance of a pilot in early October and stopped at Long Reach, where the cannons and swivel guns were put aboard. The ship arrived at her final point of departure, Spithead, at the eastern end of the Solent, on 4 November.

The following day, in anticipation of the voyage ahead, Bligh wrote, in part, to Sir Joseph Banks:

Sir, I have been very anxious to acquaint you of my arrival here, which I have now accomplished with some risk. I anchored here last night, after being drove on the coast of France in a very heavy gale. However, by persevering, I am now in readiness, or will be in three days, to receive my final orders.

I once before made an attempt to get here, but was glad to go into the Downs again, although of all other places it is one of the most disagreeable to be in. I think I cannot have much worse weather in going round Cape Horn, and it is with pleasure I tell you I think the ship very capable. This also is another consolation to me, for my ideas of making a ship fit for sea and of those above were very different, and my conduct in troubling the Navy Board for alterations cannot be reprehensible, for had I not got the masts, yards, and tops all altered I should now be getting ready to go into the harbour …

I shall take 18 months’ provisions, which, with other supplies, will do very well, and my present intention is that, as I shall be late round Cape Horn, not to depend on touching there, but complete my water, if convenient, at Falkland Islands, for if I get the least slant round the Cape I must make the most of it … The wind and weather is now very bad, and I fear will continue so for some days; but I assure you, sir, I will lose no time in proceeding on my voyage … I shall take a pleasure of informing you of my progress as I go on, and I hope by the time my business is over here the wind will turn favourable. At present I could not move with it. I am particularly happy at receiving your letter of the 25th, and I trust nothing can prevent me from completing my voyage much to your satisfaction.

It would be three weeks before Bligh’s ‘orders’ would arrive from the Admiralty, and while that was extremely frustrating for the captain it gave him the opportunity to go ashore and join his wife, Betsy. She had travelled to Portsmouth in the hope she could enjoy one final farewell with her husband as she was unlikely to see him again for at least two years. Most importantly, Mrs Bligh had been able to make the trip and take up lodgings because their third daughter, young Betsy, had recovered from a bout of smallpox.

During the time of farewell, Bligh remained adamant that his ship was not ideal for the task ahead, but revealed he was actually happy with her seafaring capabilities following a rough passage to the anchorage at Spithead. In a note to a friend he advised: ‘My little ship I hope will do very well and have had a good trial of her having made my passage here when superior ships put back.’

Four days after arriving at Spithead, Bligh received his final orders from Lord Hood, the First Naval Lord of the Admiralty, and at the same time the entire crew received two months’ pay in advance. With that done, the captain declared with a high degree of satisfaction that it was time to depart. While some crew manned the capstan and waited in readiness to weigh anchor, others scampered monkeylike through the rigging, unfurling the sails and ensuring everything was ready for sea. Soon after, with the anchor up and secured and the sails trimmed to suit the course, Bounty was finally on the move – some seven weeks behind schedule. It was 28 November 1787 and it must have been only because Bligh was exceedingly anxious to get underway that he did so in an opposing southerly wind. However, there was a favourable afternoon tide which he hoped would assist the ship in clearing the Isle of Wight and entering the English Channel. But that wasn’t to be the case. After trying for some time and failing to clear St Helens, at the eastern end of the island, which was only five nautical miles out, Bligh had no option but to anchor and wait until the next morning, when he would reassess the situation: ‘I got under sail again, for although the wind was not favourable being at south, the weather being moderate tempted me to try what could be done.’

On 1 December, with the wind still coming from the south, he decided to try once more, hoping that he could get Bounty to a point where she could sail down the English Channel towards the Atlantic, but again the attempt was foiled by the weather. He continued to try to beat the weather over the ensuing days: ‘We made different unsuccessful attempts to get down Channel, but contrary winds and bad weather constantly forced us back to St Helens, or Spithead…’

The frustration of these delays took his emotions from simmering to near boiling point, which was all too evident in his letter to Duncan Campbell on 10 December:

If there is any punishment that ought to be inflicted on a set of men for neglect, I am sure it ought on the Admiralty for my three weeks’ detention at this place during a fine fair wind which carried all outward bound ships clear of the Channel but me, who wanted it most. This has made my task a very arduous one indeed for to get round Cape Horn at the time I shall be there. I know not how to promise myself any success and yet I must do it if the ship will stand it at all or I suppose my character will be at stake. Had Lord Howe sweetened this difficult task by giving me promotion I should have been satisfied …

After a further two weeks of waiting for favourable weather, Bligh took the chance to see his ‘dear little family’ once more and then waited and refelected on his frustrations and ambitions in a letter to Duncan Campbell at the end of December:

I had written to Sir Joseph Banks and told him that as my orders were not sufficiently discretional but enjoined me to make my passage round Cape Horn, I thought it hard at this late period of the year, and by return of post I received directions to do as I thought best. It is impossible to say what may be the result – I shall endeavour to get round, but with heavy gales, should it be accompanied with sleet and snow my people will not be able to stand it, and I shall not then hesitate to go to the Cape of Good Hope. Indeed I feel my voyage a very arduous one and have only to hope in return that whatever the event may be my poor little family may be provided for … my little ship is in the best of order and my men and officers all good and feel happy under my directions. … If I accomplish my passage round C. Horn, I have no doubt of being home in the two years, but on the contrary it may take six months longer.

There was no sign of the conflict that lay ahead. Bligh’s perception that his crew were content was confirmed by many crewmembers, including the surgeon’s mate, Thomas Ledward, who in a private note deemed his captain to be a passionate and kind-hearted man who showed respect towards him.

When the crew awoke to the sound of an easterly gale howling through the rigging on the morning of 23 December, they were elated: this was the first day in a month in which they had a wind coming from the ideal direction, and despite its bleak ferocity it could not be wasted. It was the perfect time to depart, and Bounty was straining hard on her anchor warps as if encouraging everyone to get going.

The magnitude of the moment, when there was no longer any question of his ship being forced back to anchor, was not lost on Bligh. ‘The object of all former voyages to the South Seas undertaken by the command of his present Majesty, has been the advancement of science and the increase of knowledge,’ he proudly wrote. ‘This voyage may be reckoned to be the first where the intention has been to derive benefit from those distant discoveries.’

In no time Bounty was prepared for sea. By late morning she was sailing west through the Solent then past the Needles, a famous landmark at the western end of the Isle of Wight. Bligh then called for a west-by-south course ‘down Channel with a fresh gale of wind at east… At night the wind increased to a strong gale with a heavy sea.’

On reviewing his final orders from the Admiralty, Bligh recognised them as being direct and brief. They instructed him to sail as quickly as possible around Cape Horn to the Society Islands from where, after having potted and loaded as many breadfruit plants as deemed necessary, Bounty was to sail via Java and the Cape of Good Hope, calling at ports whenever necessary. Half of the plants were to be delivered to the Botanical Gardens in St Vincent and the remainder to Hinton East or his agent in Jamaica. With that task fulfilled, the ship was to then complete the circumnavigation by sailing directly to Spithead.

The captain’s projections already confirmed that due to the delays with the refit and weather, plus the procrastination on the part of the Admiralty, his alternative option, to sail east-about via the Cape of Good Hope, would almost certainly be adopted. Bounty would arrive at the Horn so late in the season it would be near impossible to make headway against the howling westerly wind and raging seas that were predominant at that time of the year.

Because of this, Bligh had written to the Admiralty requesting he be allowed to change course and sail east-about to Tahiti via the Cape of Good Hope should Bounty be unable to clear Cape Horn. The Admiralty’s response was in Bligh’s favour. The addendum to his orders read:

The season of the year being now so far advanced as to render it probable that your arrival with the vessel you command on the southern coast of America will be too late for your passing round Cape Horn without much difficulty and hazard, you are in that case at liberty (notwithstanding former orders) to proceed in her to Otaheiti, rounding the Cape of Good Hope.