CHAPTER 1

Preparations – Departure from Spain – Landing at the Canary Islands

From my earliest days I felt the urge to travel to distant lands seldom visited by Europeans. This urge characterizes a moment when our life seems to open before us like a limitless horizon in which nothing attracts us more than intense mental thrills and images of positive danger. I was brought up in a country that has no relations with either of the Indies, and I lived in mountains far from the sea and famous for their working mines, yet I felt an increasing passion for the sea and a yearning to travel far overseas. What we glean from travellers’ vivid descriptions has a special charm; whatever is far off and suggestive excites our imagination; such pleasures tempt us far more than anything we may daily experience in the narrow circle of sedentary life. My taste for botanizing and the study of geology, with the chance of a trip to Holland, England and France accompanied by Georg Forster, who was lucky enough to travel with Captain Cook on his second world tour, helped determine the travel plans I had been hatching since I was eighteen years old. What attracted me about the torrid zone was no longer the promise of a wandering life full of adventures, but a desire to see with my own eyes a grand, wild nature rich in every conceivable natural product, and the prospect of collecting facts that might contribute to the progress of science. Personal circumstances prevented me from carrying out these absorbing plans, and for six years I had the leisure to prepare myself for the observations I would make in the New World by travelling through several European countries and exploring the Alps, whose structure I would later compare with the Andes between Quito and Peru.

During that time a voyage to explore the Pacific was being planned in France, under the direction of Captain Baudin.4 The early plan was daring and grand, and would have been better entrusted to a more enlightened man. The idea was to travel across the Spanish colonies in South America from the mouth of the River Plate to the kingdom of Quito and the Panama isthmus. The two corvettes would then proceed to New Holland through the Pacific archipelagoes, stopping at Madagascar and returning home round the Cape of Good Hope. I had arrived in Paris when the preparations for the voyage had just begun. I had little faith in Captain Baudin’s character as he had given me cause to be suspicious in the Viennese Court when charged to accompany one of my friends to Brazil, but as I could never with my own resources have afforded such a far-reaching expedition, nor visited such a beautiful part of the earth, I decided to risk taking part in the expedition. I got permission to embark with my instruments on one of the corvettes destined for the Pacific, and I did this on the agreement that I could leave Captain Baudin whenever it suited me. Michaux, who had visited Persia and parts of North America, and Bonpland, who became and remained a close friend, were also to accompany this expedition as naturalists.

I met the Swedish Consul Skiödebrand, who passed through Paris on his way to embark in Marseille on a mission to bring gifts to the Dey of Algiers. That respectable gentleman had lived for a long time on the African coast and, as he was well known in the Algerian Court, could get me authorization to visit the Atlas mountains. Every year he despatched a ship to Tunis, which brought pilgrims to Mecca, and he promised to let me go to Egypt that way. I did not hesitate to seize that chance and was convinced I could carry out the plan I had hatched before my arrival in France. Up until then no geologist had ever explored the high mountain ranges that in Morocco reach the perpetual snows. I quickly completed my collection of instruments and obtained books that dealt with the countries I was to visit. I said goodbye to my brother, whose example and advice had helped guide my thinking. He approved of my motives for wanting to abandon Europe; a secret voice told me we would see each other again. I left Paris eager to embark for Algeria and Egypt, and chance – so often playing a decisive role in human lives – had it that I would see my brother again after returning from the Amazon and Peru, without putting a foot on African soil.

The Swedish frigate that was to convey Skiöldebrand to Algeria was expected at Marseille towards the end of October. Bonpland and I rushed there in case we arrived late and missed the boat. We did not predict the new set-backs that were soon to crop up.

Skiöldebrand was as impatient as we were to reach his destination. Several times a day we would climb the Notre-Dame de la Garde mountain, which dominated a wide stretch of the Mediterranean. Every sail that appeared on the horizon excited us. But after two months of waiting we heard through the newspapers that the Swedish frigate had been badly damaged in a storm off Portugal, and had put into Cádiz to refit. Private letters then confirmed this news; the Jaramas (as it was called) would not reach Marseille before the spring.

We did not feel like prolonging our stay in Provence until the spring. The countryside, and especially the climate, were a delight, but the sight of the sea continuously reminded us of the failure of our plans. During a trip we made to Hyères and Toulon we came across the frigate La Boudeuse, bound for Corsica, which had been under the command of Bougainville5 during his world voyage. This famous navigator had been particularly kind to me during my stay in Paris while I prepared to join Captain Baudin. I cannot describe the impression that this ship, which had carried Commerson to the Pacific, had on me. There are moments in our lives when painful feelings mingle with our experiences.

We resolved to spend the winter in Spain, hoping to embark from Cartagena or Cádiz in the spring, if the political situation in the east permitted this. We crossed the kingdoms of Catalonia and Valencia to reach Madrid. On the way we visited the ruins of Tarragona and ancient Saguntum. From Barcelona we made an excursion to Montserrat, whose elevated peaks are inhabited by hermits. The contrast between luxuriant vegetation and desolate, bare rocks forms a peculiar scenery.

Arriving at Madrid I soon congratulated myself on my decision to visit the peninsula. Baron de Forell, Saxon Ambassador to the Spanish Court, received me in a friendly way that greatly favoured my project. To his knowledge of mineralogy he added a great interest in the progress of science. He let me know that under the patronage of an enlightened minister, Don Mariano Luis de Urquijo, I might be permitted to make a journey to the interior of Spanish America, at my own expense. After all the set-backs I had suffered I did not hesitate to take up this suggestion.

In March 1799 I was presented at the Court of Aranjuez and the King received me graciously. I explained the motives that prompted me to undertake a journey to the New World and the Philippines, and presented a memoir of my plans to the Secretary of State. Señor de Urquijo supported my petition and overcame every obstacle in my. path, proceeding with commendable generosity given I had no personal relationship with him. The zeal with which he helped me can be due only to his love for science.

I obtained two passports; one from the Secretary of State, the other from the Council of the Indies. Never before had such concessions been granted to a traveller, and never had the Spanish Government shown such confidence in a foreigner. To waylay all the possible reservations that the viceroys and captain-generals might raise concerning the nature and finality of my work, it said in my safe conduct from the First Secretary of State that ‘I was authorized to freely use my physical and geodesical instruments, that in all the Spanish possessions I could make astronomical observations, measure the height of mountains, collect whatever grew on the ground, and carry out any task that might advance the Sciences.’6

For the past year so many obstacles had crossed my path that I could hardly believe that at last my innermost desires would be fulfilled. We left Madrid in the middle of May and crossed Old Castile and the kingdoms of León and Galicia to La Coruña, where we were to embark for the island of Cuba. The winter had been long and hard but now, during our journey, we enjoyed the mild temperatures of spring that in the south usually begin in March or April. Snow still covered the tall granitic peaks of the Guadarrama but in the deep Galician valleys, which reminded me of the picturesque scenery of Switzerland and the Tyrol, the rocks were covered in flowering cistus and arborescent heaths. The traveller is happy to quit the Castilian plains devoid of vegetation and their intense winter cold and summers of oppressive heat.

The First Secretary of State had particularly recommended Brigadier Rafael Clavijo, recently appointed Inspector General of Maritime Couriers. This officer advised us to board the corvette Pizarro, bound for Havana and Mexico. This light frigate was not famed for its sailing speed, although during its long journey from the River Plate it had luckily just escaped English men-of-war. Clavijo sent instructions to the Pizarro to authorize the loading of our instruments, and to allow us to carry out atmospheric tests during the sea-voyage. The captain was ordered to stop at Tenerife and remain there as long as was needed for us to visit the port of Orotava and climb the Pico de Teide.

The harbours of Ferrol and La Coruña both communicate with the same bay, so a ship driven by foul weather towards the coast may anchor in either, according to the wind. Such an advantage is invaluable where the sea is almost always rough, as it is between Capes Ortegal and Finisterre, the promontories Trileucum and Artabrum of ancient geography. A narrow passage, flanked by perpendicular granite rocks, leads to the extensive bay of Ferrol. No port in Europe offers such an extraordinary anchorage, from its very inland position. The narrow and tortuous passage by which vessels enter this port has been opened, either by the pounding of waves or the reiterated shocks of very violent earthquakes. In the New World, on the coasts of New Andalusia, the Laguna del Obispo is formed exactly like the port of Ferrol. The most curious geological phenomena are often repeated at immense distances on the surface of different continents; and naturalists who have examined different parts of the globe are struck by the extreme resemblances observed in the fracturing of coasts, in the sinuosities of the valleys, in the appearance of mountains, and in their distribution by groups. The accidental concurrence of the same causes must everywhere have produced the same effects; and amidst the variety of nature an analogy of structure and form is observed in the arrangement of inanimate matter, as well as in the internal organization of plants and animals.

The moment of leaving Europe for the first time is impressive. We vainly recall the frequency of communications between the two worlds; we vainly reflect how, thanks to the improved state of navigation, we may now cross the Atlantic, which compared to the Pacific is but a shortish arm of the sea; yet what we feel when we begin our first long-distance voyage is none the less accompanied by a deep emotion, unlike any we may have felt in our youth. Separated from the objects of our dearest affections, and entering into a new life, we are forced to fall back on ourselves, and we feel more isolated than we have ever felt before.7

A thick fog that hid the horizon warned us at last – to our delight – that the weather was changing. On the evening of the 4th of June the north-east wind, so constant on the Galician coast at this time of year, began blowing. On the 5th the Pizarro set sail, despite the news, which had reached the watch-tower at Sisarga a few hours previously, that an English squadron was bound for the Tagus river mouth. Those who came to watch our corvette weigh anchor warned us by shouting that within three days we would be captured and would have to follow our ship into Lisbon. This forecast worried us.

By two in the afternoon the Pizarro was under sail. The channel that ships follow to leave the port of La Coruña is long and narrow. As it opens towards the north, and as the wind blew against us, we had to tack eight times, three of which were useless. We manoeuvred very clumsily, and once dangerously, as the current dragged us close to some reefs against which waves noisily broke. We stared at the San Antonio castle where the luckless Malaspina8 fretted in a State prison. At this moment of leaving Europe to visit those countries this illustrious traveller had so fruitfully visited, I would rather have thought about something less sad.

At half past six we passed the Tower of Hercules, which acts as the La Coruña lighthouse, at the top of which a coal light has been kept burning from remote times to guide ships. At around nine we spotted the light of a fisherman’s hut at Sisarga, the last we would see on the European coast. Soon distance weakened that feeble light, which we began to confuse with stars on the horizon, but our eyes refused to stop staring at it. These impressions are never forgotten by those who begin a long ocean journey at an age when their feelings remain vivid and profound. So many memories are awoken in our imagination by a dot of light in a dark night, flickering on and off above the rough waves, signalling our home land!

At sunset on the 8th of June the look-out sighted from his crow’s-nest a British convoy sailing along the coast towards the south-east. To avoid it we altered our course during the night. We were also given orders not to put our lights on in the great cabin so that we would not be seen from afar. We constantly had to use dark-lanterns to make our observations of the sea’s temperature, or read the markings on our astronomical instruments. In the torrid zone, where twilight lasts a few minutes, we were condemned to inaction, in similar circumstances, from six in the evening. For me this was particularly irritating as I have never suffered from seasickness and no sooner am I on board than I feel the urge to work more than ever.9

From La Coruña to the 36th degree of latitude we had scarcely seen any living creature apart from sea swallows and a few dolphins. We searched in vain for seaweed and molluscs. On the 11th of June we were struck by a curious sight that later we would see often in the Pacific. We reached a zone where the sea seemed covered with an enormous amount of jellyfish. The boat could hardly move, though the jellyfish floated towards the south-east four times faster than the current. This procession lasted some forty-five minutes; then we saw a few scattered and exhausted ones struggling to follow the main bunch, as if tired of their journey.

Between Madeira and the African coast we were almost becalmed, which suited me perfectly as I could carry out my magnetic experiments. We never tired of admiring the magnificent nights; nothing approaches the clarity and serenity of the African sky. We were struck by the extraordinary number of shooting stars that crossed the night sky. The further south we advanced, the more we saw, especially near the Canary Islands. When we were about 40 leagues east of Madeira, a common swallow (Hirundo rustica) landed on the topmast. It was so exhausted we easily caught it. What drives a bird so far off its course at such a calm time of year?

The Pizarro had orders to anchor off the island of Lanzarote, one of the seven large Canary Islands, to find out if the English were still blockading the Santa Cruz bay. From the 15th we were dubious about which route to follow. Finally, on the 16th, at two in the afternoon, we sighted land, which looked like a little cloud stuck on the horizon. At five, with the sun very low, we could clearly see the island of Lanzarote before us.

The current dragged us towards the coast with more force than was safe. As we advanced we saw first the island of Fuerteventura, famous for the many camels that live there, and then later the small island of Lobos, in the channel that separates Fuerteventura from Lanzarote. We spent the night on deck; the moon illumined the island’s volcanic peaks, whose slopes, covered in ash, shone like silver. The night was beautifully serene and fresh; although we were only a short distance from the African coast and the limit of the torrid zone, the thermometer recorded only 18 °C. It seemed as if the phosphorescence of the sea heightened the mass of light diffused in the air. After midnight great black clouds rose behind the volcano and intermittently covered the moon and the beautiful Scorpion constellation. On the shore we saw lights move in all directions; probably fishermen getting ready for work. During the voyage we had been reading the ancient Spanish navigators, and those moving lights reminded us of Pedro Gutiérrez,10 Queen Isabel’s page, who saw similar lights on Guanahani Island on the memorable night the New World was discovered.

The island of Lanzarote used to be called Titeroigotra. When the Spaniards arrived its inhabitants differed from those on the other islands by their superior culture. They built their houses with cut stones while the Guanches of Tenerife lived in caves like troglodytes. At that time a strange custom – repeated only in Tibet – prevailed. A woman had several husbands, who each took it in turn to exercise the rights of the head of the family. Each husband was known as such during a lunar month; then another took his place while he returned to being a servant in the house. In the fifteenth century the island of Lanzarote consisted of two states separated by a wall; a kind of monument, which outlives national enmities, found also in Scotland, Peru and China.

Guessing from some signs on an old Portuguese map, the captain of the Pizarro thought we were opposite a small fort built north of Teguise, the capital of Lanzarote. Mistaking some basaltic crags for a castle he saluted it properly by hoisting the Spanish flag and sending a boat with an officer to the supposed fort to find out if the English were lurking in these waters. We were not a little surprised to discover that the land we took for the coast of Lanzarote was the small island of Graciosa, and that for several leagues around there was not a sound of life.

We took the opportunity to use the boat to survey the land around the large bay. No words can evoke the feelings of a naturalist who first steps on soil outside Europe. So many objects call for his attention that it is hard to order his impressions. At each step he thinks he is coming across something new, and in his excitement he does not recognize things that commonly feature in botanical gardens and natural history collections. Two hundred yards off the coast we saw a man fishing with a rod. We turned the boat towards him but he fled and hid behind a rock. It took our sailors some effort to capture him. The sight of the corvette, the thunder of our cannons in such a solitary place – possibly visited only by pirates – the launching of our boat, all this terrified the poor fisherman. He informed us that the island of Graciosa on which we had landed was separated from Lanzarote by a small channel called El Rio. He offered to guide us to Los Colorados harbour to find out about the blockade at Tenerife but, when the man assured us that for weeks he had not seen any ships out at sea, the captain decided to set sail for Santa Cruz.

We re-embarked at sunset and set sail, but the breeze was too weak to enable us to follow our route to Tenerife. The sea was calm; a reddish haze covered the horizon, seeming to magnify everything. In such solitudes, surrounded by so many uninhabited islands, we savoured the view of such a grandiose and wild nature. The black mountains of Graciosa had perpendicular walls some 500 to 600 feet high. Their shadows, projected across the sea, made the scene gloomy. The basalt rocks stuck out of the water like the ruins of a vast building. Their existence reminded us of that bygone age when underwater volcanoes gave birth to new islands, or destroyed continents. Everything around us spoke of destruction and sterility; yet beyond this scene the coast of Lanzarote seemed more friendly. In a narrow gorge, between two hills crowned with scattered trees, you could see some cultivated land. The last rays of sun lit up the ripe corn, ready for harvesting. Even the desert is animated when you see some trace of man’s work in it.

On the morning of the 18th the wind freshened a little and we managed to pass through the channel. We lost sight of the small islands of Alegranza, Montaña Clara and Graciosa, which appear to have been inhabited by the Guanches. People visit them now only to gather archil,11 but this is less sought after since so many north European lichens yield better dyes. Montaña Clara is noted for its beautiful canary-birds. There are also goats, proof that the interior of the island is not as desolate as the coast we had seen.12