The next day, an elated Porter posted the following notice on the bulletin board:
SAILORS AND MARINES,
Fortune has at length smiled upon us, because we deserve her smiles. And for the first time she has enabled us to display FREE TRADE AND SAILOR’S RIGHTS, assisted by your good conduct, she put into our possession near half a million dollars of the enemy’s money.
Continue to be zealous, enterprising, and patient, and we will yet render the name of the Essex, as terrible to the enemy as that of any other vessel, before we return to the United States. My plans shall be known to you at a suitable period.
D. Porter
The enemy whalers provided an abundance of supplies—cordage, spars, planks, timber, nails, rope, canvas, paints, tar, and every other article necessary for the Essex, including food. The whalers had departed England stuffed with three years of provisions, but had not yet consumed half. Their provisions would satisfy the needs of the Essex for many months, save for water, which was still lacking.
The United States now had a fleet of four in the Pacific. Porter decided to transform the Georgiana into a sixteen-gun warship without altering her appearance as a whaler. She could then be used as both a fighting ship and a decoy. He put Lieutenant Downes in command and gave him a crew of forty-one. Thirty-six came from the Essex and five from the captured ships. The large number of seamen from the prizes who had indicated they wanted to join the Essex were granted their request. Many were Americans. The few who did not want to join were nonetheless taken aboard the Essex as prisoners.
Downes received the Policy’s ten guns to add to the Georgiana’s six, as well as two swivels, blunderbusses mounted on swivels, and small arms—muskets, pistols, cutlasses, boarding pikes, and tomahawks. Porter put Midshipman William H. Odenheimer in charge of the Montezuma and gave Midshipman John S. Cowan command of the Policy—two young men who had impressed him with their leadership ability.
Porter spent the next few days repairing the Essex and reconnoitering east of Albemarle near James Island. He then decided that separating from Downes would allow them to cover more territory. On May 12 he sent Downes and the Georgiana to search for enemy vessels around Albermarle, while he sailed the Essex to Hood Island with the other two prizes and the Barclay. Downes was to join him there later. After visiting Hood, Porter intended to sail to Tumbes on the Peruvian coast to obtain water. He instructed Downes to join him at Hood, but if he missed him, to proceed to Tumbes and rendezvous there. After Tumbes, Porter planned to beat his way up the Peruvian coast to Lima, and from there travel all the way down to Concepción, before eventually sailing back north to Valparaiso. There he hoped to gain intelligence of British warships hunting him, and, of course, capture whatever enemy whalers, privateers, or merchantmen that came his way.
Downes soon set a course to double the southern point of Albemarle, while Porter steered his little squadron south-southeast for Hood Island. At midday Porter discovered that he was approaching, not Hood, but Charles Island. This finally convinced him that no reliance could be placed on Colnett’s chart. He dropped anchor in what he called Essex Bay on the northern coast of Charles, where Hathaway’s Post Office was located. He went ashore and discovered unmistakable evidence that other ships had stopped by the post office since his last visit. All the food and water stored there was gone. There was no doubt in his mind that the vessels were English and that their destination was the fishing grounds off Albemarle. Instead of tearing after them, however, he decided to search for water on Charles; his supply was getting dangerously low. He moved to a place on the west side, where he heard water was to be found. It was only six miles from his present location. When he got there he found some water, but it was impure and extremely difficult to get at, so it did not solve his problem.
Three days later, on May 15, Lieutenant Downes and the Georgiana unexpectedly appeared. Downes never reached Albemarle. Rapid, confusing currents and general ignorance of the Galapagos stopped him. When he found himself in the vicinity of Charles Island, he decided to look into Essex Bay for enemy vessels, never expecting to find the Essex there.
Porter dispatched Downes to go after the whale ships that had left messages at Hathaway’s Post Office. He sent Mr. Adams, the chaplain, in two whaleboats to make an accurate survey of a large, unidentified island directly north of Charles. Midshipman Odenheimer went with him, in command of the second boat. Porter told them to return within a week.
While he waited for Adams, Porter continued repairing the Essex and adding a huge number of tortoises to her provisions. He also directed that the two prizes be spruced up. He intended to sell them at the first opportunity—probably in Valparaiso. The men, including the prisoners, were given a chance to be on the beach a good deal, and this helped morale. To his great delight Porter discovered what later turned out to be a potent anti-scorbutic on the island—the prickly pear, which grew in abundance and could be easily loaded aboard to help with his constant battle against scurvy.
On the morning of May 20, Adams returned from what he called Porter (Santa Cruz) Island. The following morning at nine o’clock, Porter weighed anchor, planning to pursue a large ship that Adams had narrowly avoided while returning from the island. Adams was certain that she was a well-armed English whaler steering for Albemarle. Porter decided to go after her immediately. Before setting out, he left an uncoded note for Downes, telling him that the Essex, after searching for the ship that Adams had seen, was bound for Tumbes. Porter put the note in a bottle and buried it at the foot of Hathaway’s Post Office. He then sailed with two prizes and the Barclay in pursuit of Adams’s ship, sailing all the way to Albemarle, where he dropped anchor and went ashore, climbing a hill to get a panoramic view of the surrounding waters, but no other vessels were visible.
After returning to the Essex, he delayed for a time, waiting to see if the ship he was seeking might yet appear. When she didn’t, he tacked to the eastward for Hood Island on May 23. The going was tough. He had to fight especially strong currents that nearly drove the Essex and her companions aground on Hood. The currents were so contrary they forced him back to Charles Island.
On May 27, Porter left Charles and struggled toward Albemarle. The next day he weathered the island’s southern head and soon spotted a sail that looked promising. At the time, the slow-sailing Montezuma was in tow, and Porter cast her off while he raced for the stranger. At sunset he could see her plainly from the deck, but he had no hope of catching her before nightfall. She was carrying a full press of canvas, straining to gain distance. The wind continued strong, and Porter kept pressing toward her, hoping to get as close as possible before nightfall. As it fell, he hove to so that his slower companions could catch up, and when they did, he distributed them in a wide area, hoping that one of them would catch a glimpse of the stranger in the morning.
Porter’s luck held. At daybreak the Montezuma signaled that a ship was to the northward. Porter crowded on sail, but two hours went by before he could see her. He kept after her with the Montezuma, but at noon the wind died. Determined that his prey would not escape, Porter lowered three of his fastest boats, filled them with men under the command of Lieutenant Wilmer, and ordered him to sail to the Montezuma, which was six miles away, situated between the Essex and her prey. When Wilmer reached the Montezuma, he was to fill three of her boats with men (giving him a total of six), row to a position astern of the stranger, and keep her in sight.
Wilmer’s boats had no sooner left the Essex than a breeze sprang up, and Porter resumed the chase. He soon passed his boats and signaled the Montezuma to pick them up. As Porter approached the stranger, she hauled close on a wind, and then hove to—exactly what he had hoped she would do. The Essex was flying British colors, which deceived the stranger’s captain, Obadiah Weir. He was eager for a talk with what he thought was the captain of a British frigate. Weir’s vessel was the letter of marque Atlantic, a fine fighting ship, the best Porter had seen so far. She carried six 18-pounders and was ostensib
ly employed in whaling, but her principal business was hunting American competitors.
The Essex was soon alongside the Atlantic, and when Weir came on board, Porter continued posing as a British captain. His anger mounted when he discovered that Weir was from Nantucket, and he was outraged when Weir told him that the best place to capture American whalers was off Concepción, where he had seen nine of them in a defenseless state. By going there, he told Porter, he could reap rich rewards and destroy the American whale fishery in the eastern Pacific.
Barely able to stifle his anger, Porter asked Weir how he could sail from England under the British flag in an armed ship after hostilities had broken out between the two countries. Weir insisted that he had no difficulty, for although he had been born in Nantucket, he was an Englishman at heart. Porter was disgusted with him, and had great pleasure in introducing him to the unlucky captains of the Montezuma and the Georgiana, who soon disabused Weir of the notion that he was aboard a British man-of-war.
Weir had been aboard for only a short time when a lookout at the masthead cried another sail. Porter again sprang into action. He signaled the Montezuma to come up, took men from her, and put them in the Atlantic under Lieutenant McKnight; and then, both the Atlantic—reputed to be a fast ship—and the Essex sped after the prey. Night came on before they could catch up with her, however, and she disappeared for a time. Luckily, Porter and his lookouts soon found her again with their night glasses (refracting telescopes).
To Porter’s surprise, and great pleasure, when night fell, he saw the stranger sailing toward him. Thinking her pursuers could not find her in the dark, she had changed course, coming about, and heading in the opposite direction. Unbeknownst to her captain, she was sailing right into the arms of the Essex. As she approached, Porter put a shot across her bows, and she immediately hove to. He ordered her captain to come on board, but he refused until he knew what ship the Essex was. Porter responded with a shot between his masts and threatened a broadside. That changed the captain’s mind, and he repaired on board. His ship was the excellent letter of marque Greenwich of ten guns, employed as an armed whaler. She was the mysterious ship that Mr. Adams had seen. When John Shuttleworth, the Greenwich’s skipper, appeared in Porter’s cabin, he was obviously drunk. Porter was disgusted with him.
He grew irate when Weir and Shuttleworth failed to conceal their contempt for their captors. Their manners grew worse, even though they were shown to generous quarters. Porter heard so much loud invective against the United States and the captain of the Essex that he soon appeared at their door and impressed upon them—face to face—how unpleasant he could make their situation. That got their attention, and they changed their tune, uttering no more ugly epithets.
Lieutenant McKnight took charge of the Atlantic with enough men to fight her guns, and since Porter was short of naval officers, he appointed marine Lieutenant Gamble to take charge of the Greenwich. This was not only unusual but unique. A marine had never commanded an American warship before. And as it turned out, Gamble was not only the first, but also the last. No marine, before or since, has done so. Porter assigned two experienced seamen to help Gamble run the ship. One of them was a navigator.
Porter now had a fleet of six: Georgiana, Atlantic, Greenwich, Montezuma, Policy, and, of course, Essex. The potential in prize money was mounting, and so were the spirits of Porter’s crew. The last two captures had 800 tortoises crammed into their holds—enough fresh food for the men in all six ships for a month. The captures also had plenty of naval stores—cordage, paint, tar, canvas, and the like. More importantly, the Atlantic and the Greenwich had in excess of 3,500 gallons of water, which alleviated Porter’s immediate need. To be sure, the precious liquid was in the oily casks of whale ships and had an unpleasant smell and taste, but it was usable, and Porter was happy to have it until he found fresher water.
In addition to having adequate supplies Porter also had sufficient men, including prisoners, to man all the ships. He calculated that he had a total of 420, and, miraculously, every one of them was in excellent health, except for the few on the Atlantic and the Greenwich who exhibited signs of scurvy brought on by indifferent captains. Porter was careful about how he allocated the prisoners, integrating them into the crews of every ship, and he was pleased with the results. He found them to be as useful as his own men.
Although Porter thought the British tars performed well, he had no use for their captains nor for their uncaring service. The Atlantic, he discovered, was the ship that had taken the water and bread placed near Hathaway’s Post Office. Captain Weir took them, not because he needed sustenance for his crew, but because he feared men might escape if they knew bread and water were on the island. Britain’s tars, it seems, fled from the tyranny aboard their ships whenever and wherever they could, even to uninhabited islands.
On June 6, an awesome sight filled Porter and his crews with wonder. An immense volcano erupted. It was early afternoon when they observed thick, black, cone-shaped smoke rising rapidly from a huge crater on Albemarle Island. The column ascended to a great height before spreading off in grand white curls. The intriguing outburst continued into the evening, illuminating the night sky.
Despite the wondrous sights on these unique islands, by the second week of June Porter had had enough of the Galapagos. He was eager to return to the coast of Peru, fill his water casks, and resume the hunt for whalers along the coasts of Peru and Chile, where he thought the hunting would be as good or better than in the treacherous Galapagos. In addition, and perhaps more importantly, he had no doubt that Admiral Dixon in Rio was aware of the Essex’s rampage in the Pacific and would be sending one or more warships to destroy her. Needless to say, Porter was anxious to meet the British hunters.
CHAPTER
13
UNPARALLELED SUCCESS
ON JUNE 8, PORTER PASSED TO THE NORTH OF ABINGDON (Pinta) Island with a fresh breeze. He had all but one of the dull sailing vessels in tow. They were heading for the Peruvian town of Tumbes, close to the Equator in the southern part of the Gulf of Guayaquil, nearly 600 miles north of Lima. Downes and the Georgiana were not with him, but Porter left instructions where to find him.
Porter planned to stop at the Island of La Plata on the way to Tumbes. It was seventeen miles off what is now the southern coast of Ecuador, but was then Peru. Legend had it that Captain Francis Drake landed there to bury treasure and divide his plunder. Porter expected to obtain wood and water and leave a message for Downes. The haze was so thick, however, that he did not find the island until the night of June 16.
As the Essex approached La Plata the following morning, Porter saw huge schools of sperm and finback whales. He dropped anchor two miles offshore and explored the waters around the island in a whaleboat. It proved a big disappointment. He could not find a comfortable landing place. Before continuing on to the Tumbes River, he left a message for Downes in a bottle and suspended it from the branch of a bush. To make certain Downes did not miss the bottle, Porter painted the letters S.X. on a nearby rock—large enough to draw anyone’s attention.
On June 19, the Essex ran into the spacious Gulf of Guayaquil and anchored on the south side, a mile off the mouth of the Tumbes River. A considerable sandbar blocked the entrance. As the Essex came to anchor, misfortune struck. One of the gunner’s crew, John Rodgers, aged thirty-two, one of the best seamen on the ship, was helping to furl the mainsail. Suddenly he lost his balance and plunged headfirst to the deck, smashing his skull. Rodgers’s fondness for rum had finally done him in, shocking and saddening the entire ship. Excessive drinking was a problem that never went away for skippers.
Porter now had to turn to the unpleasant business of dealing with the Peruvian authorities. He anticipated that they would be hostile but amenable to bribery. He sent Captain Randall of the Barclay upriver to the town of Tumbes to confer with the governor while the Essex men got busy bringing wood and water aboard. It was a hazardous business. The waters were loaded with big, hungry sharks
and huge alligators; the surf was violent enough to upset rafts. Porter himself shot and killed an enormous, fifteen-foot alligator, placing a musket ball below the joint of the monster’s foreleg near the shoulder.
On June 22, Randall returned with the governor and his retinue. The officials, especially the governor, were so wretchedly dressed that it was all Porter could do to stop from laughing. The Peruvians’ wardrobe did not hinder negotiations, however. The governor and his men were anxious for money, which Porter supplied, and business went forward with no trouble, as he had anticipated it would. Still, Porter had to be careful; this was not friendly territory. He never went on shore or allowed any of his men to go without being heavily armed and on guard.
The following day, June 23, Porter went into Tumbes, reluctantly returning the governor’s visit. The town had about fifty houses or huts and was as wretched as the attire of its officials. Tumbes was built on stilts to protect inhabitants from alligators, but nothing could shield them from swarms of mosquitoes and other insects. Porter spent as little time as possible with the governor and absolutely refused to stay the night.
On returning to the Essex, he was confronted with a problem he had long hoped to avoid. Again it had to do with alcohol. The acting second lieutenant, James Wilson, after an abstinence of many months, was drunk again. Everyone liked Wilson, but he had a drinking problem, which Porter had had to deal with more than once. When he was told of Wilson’s condition, he went directly to his cabin and advised him that he was under arrest for the remainder of the cruise. Wilson was shaken, reached for a pistol, and attempted to load it. Porter grabbed it from him, but Wilson went for another. Porter was too quick for him, however, and stopped him again. Wilson then told him that he had intended to use the pistol on himself. Porter believed him. He could see the terrible state the poor man was in. It was a sad business; Porter felt sorry for Wilson, and after giving the matter more thought, he decided to give him another chance. Wilson carried on, but he remained terribly unhappy with himself.
The Shining Sea Page 17