Mutiny on the Bounty

by Peter Fitzsimons

  On the spot, young George had known what he had wanted to do with his life. He had wanted to be a naval Captain, too, just like these dignified, worldly men. And now, well, here he is, on his way at last, under the command of no less than Captain William Bligh.

  Quite the contrary in character to young George is Ned Young, a 21-year-old wild buck of a man with a colourful past, and, as a matter of fact, the only man of colour on the voyage. With a father who is an English gentleman, and a mother who is a native of the West Indies, he is more than usually interested in this mission as it will eventually be taking him back to his homeland. To Bligh, there is something slightly unsettling about Mr Young. This is not simply because he has no fore teeth, nor that all those that remain are rotting, but rather there is a certain malevolent air about him. What is it? His death’s-head grin? A devout self-centredness? That, perhaps, is part of it. When, later in the voyage, Bligh comes to note down the tattoos of each man, most of the sailors boast the initials of their sweethearts.

  Not Ned Young. His large tattoo under his arm …

  NY

  … is in homage to no-one but himself.

  An unusual addition to the ship’s complement is 27-year-old Irishman Able Seaman Michael Byrn. Cheerful and slender, he is as blond as he is … blind – a man who can do only one thing well, but that thing makes up for everything else. He is a master of that happiest of instruments, the fiddle, on board to engage the men in the daily dancing that Bligh insists on, yet one more thing Bligh picked up from Captain Cook. As Bligh will note, ‘Some time for relaxation and mirth is absolutely necessary [for the crew], and I have considered it so much so that after 4 o’clock, the evening is laid aside for their amusement and dancing. I had great difficulty before I left England to get a man to play the violin and I preferred at last to take one two thirds blind than come without one.’32 And play Byrn does.

  One way or another, between the old and bold, the young and green, and the two-thirds blind, Bligh has no doubt he can successfully complete his mission. The urgent thing now is to complete their preparations, their modifications, and get on their way. With every day, and every step forward, Bligh can feel that rising tingle of excitement that precedes every new voyage.

  •

  In the early days of September, with Captain Bligh now on board each day and in command of the refit, Sir Joseph Banks receives a letter from Bligh’s ‘very kind friend’33 Lord Selkirk, concerning the issue of Bligh’s rank.

  It appears that Bligh can’t quite shake the feeling that he deserves to be made Captain.

  Certainly, he is the ‘Captain’ of the Bounty in the sense that no-one will rank higher and he is addressed as ‘Captain’ by the crew and other officers, but his formal rank remains mere Lieutenant. And it does not sit well with him! On that very subject, he complains to his friend Lord Selkirk of the infamy of his situation, and the good Lord in turn takes up his case with Sir Joseph Banks, writing:

  Mr Bligh himself is but very indifferently used, or rather really ill used for he seems to have lost hope of getting any preferement at going out & God knows who may be at the Head of the Admiralty at his return. It would have been simply Justice to him, to have made him Master & Commander before sailing; nay considering that he was, I believe, the only person that was not in some way or other preferred at their return, of all who went out with Captain Cook, it would be no unreasonable thing to make him … Captain now …34

  One of the problems is that the Bounty is a converted collier-merchant ship, far too small to be considered a warship – its only armaments are four four-pounder carriage guns and five half-pounder swivel guns on each side – meaning its commander can be no more than a Lieutenant, rather than a Captain, and will be the only officer – ‘commissioned by His Majesty’ – on board.

  The small size of the Bounty also means, to Bligh’s considerable chagrin, that there is no place for the usual contingent of Marines most naval commanders could rely on to defend their person, back up their authority, and defend their ship. This is far from the usual way of things, and it does not sit well with Bligh, even though he has no doubt his authority will more than hold its own, regardless, against any internal threats. But what of external? It is irregular, and he does make bitter complaint to the Admiralty. Captain Cook, he knows, would never have considered going to areas where sometimes hostile Natives abound, without at least a dozen Marines on deck.

  But the Admiralty will not budge. There is no space.

  The other factor, of course, both in denying Bligh promotion to Captain, and not giving him Marines, is that they are sending Bligh out on what is little more than a glorified grocery errand, not some massive conquest.

  There is to be no promotion, and hence no increase in his salary. For a man with a growing family of one devoted wife and three gorgeous bairns, recently grown used to ‘a state of affluence’ under his uncle’s commercial employ, earning ‘five hundred a year’,35 and now on the meagre pay of a Lieutenant, this presents a real problem.

  He needs extra money for his family’s security.

  Right now, however, Captain Bligh continues to throw himself into preparations for the voyage to come, now focused on victualling the Bounty for 18 months, relying heavily on Deptford’s bakery with its 12 large ovens delivering batch after batch of ship’s biscuits, or what the men call ‘hard tack’ – wheat-based and baked hard into thick brown five-inch squares.

  Day after day they keep loading the Bounty with the supplies destined for her already jam-packed hold, including hundreds of pounds of cheese, tons of preserved meat – heavily salted beef and pork packed into barrels – salted herring, butter, dried peas, dried beans, one month’s worth of beer, along with casks of wine and spirits. Enormous barrels of fresh water, each one holding 65 gallons, must also be stored in the hold and secured. And wood, too. Endless bundles of it must be carried on board and stowed – both firewood for the galley, and plank wood for the Carpenter’s use when repairing the ship.

  Right before leaving, Bligh will also act as a poor man’s Noah, of Ark fame, and oversee the bringing on board of many animals, chickens, hogs and sheep that can be slaughtered at sea and fed to the ship’s company at the Captain’s discretion. Owing to the Bounty’s limited space there is simply not enough room to build a pen on the upper deck and all the animals, besides the chickens whose coops can fit onto the after-deck, will have to be housed in the forecastle just forward of the quarters of the Able Seamen, and if that means the sailors’ quarters will be right by a pig pen, that is just too bad.

  Still, Bligh also orders many barrels of vinegar, for the crew to regularly swab the decks with, to keep things hygienic. There will be no illness on Captain Bligh’s watch, and that’s an order.

  By 3 October, Bligh is able to report to Sir Joseph Banks with some satisfaction:

  Sir,

  I have now 18 months provisions, and which will be the total of what the ship will stow. All other necessaries are on board except a few trifling things … 36

  By 9 October, all the trading goods have been purchased, including everything from chisels, saws and hatchets to looking glasses, beads, and shirts. Captain Bligh must also sign for receiving the sum of 100 ducats in gold coins, to spend in places he will visit after leaving the South Seas.

  On 15 October a messenger from Lord Howe gives Bligh formal orders to sail the Bounty to Spithead, the safe harbour by the town of Portsmouth. There, they can take on last supplies before receiving final orders, and then sailing out west along the southern coast of the Isle of Wight – where the journey proper will begin. In the first leg, they must complete the long haul south to the treacherous Cape Horn off the tip of South America, where the Atlantic Ocean meets its Pacific and Southern counterparts in a perfect storm of sailors’ nightmares. It is a place of monstrous seas, sucking currents, lashing westerly winds that blow strong and constant, whipping up unpredictable williwaws, ushering in sleet, rain, snow, thick fog and clouds that hide protrud
ing rocks, icebergs and shoals; it is the scene of many a ship’s doom, and the ocean floor for miles around the Horn is littered with skeleton-filled hulls.

  Yes, that is Cape Horn – a place of almost mythological horror, capable of striking a dagger of ice-cold fear into the hearts of even the hardiest seamen, and that certainly includes Captain William Bligh, as his small ship will be taking on this passage of terror from the unfavourable east, fighting vicious headwinds all the way. Still, back in 1768 in the Endeavour, also going east to west, Captain Cook had managed to round it in three days and Captain Bligh, knowing himself to be a better mariner than his one-time mentor, believes he can do it in the same time, if not better.

  However nature itself, in all her many furies, will be conspiring to prevent them getting around the Horn.

  Knowing their best hope is to get there early in the season, before the storms are at the height of their fury, Bligh tells Lord Howe’s messenger – in his ever short, sharp and even slightly menacing manner – to pass on a message in his own right: ‘I beg your Lordship to send me off without delay.’37

  The messenger, Mr Stephens, slightly shocked at Captain Bligh’s presumption, nevertheless gathers himself and assures the mariner he shall have his orders ‘in a week’.38

  Very well then. The main thing for now, is that they are at least off to Spithead. And Bligh is delighted to get moving.

  Ahoy, the Captain!

  Bligh’s small vessel slows down as it draws closer to the Bounty, manoeuvres carefully to make its way through the half-a-dozen small craft that are playing tiny cygnets to the glorious mother swan, with dozens upon dozens of men scurrying up and down rope ladders as they go about their duties, more frenzied and important now that the Captain is back in eyeshot, more careful in their language now that he is in earshot.

  As Captain Bligh’s tender bumps against the side of the Bounty, now moored at Longreach, a rope ladder is thrown down to him, and even in their busyness – it would not do to be seen to be slacking off even for a moment – the sailors take pause as Bligh’s rather rotund head, balding slightly at the top, pops up like a sprouting potato. He heaves himself upon the deck. Not remotely an athletic man, nor particularly big, still he is intimidating.

  It’s his eyes. They squint, they glare, they glower, they scan, they calculate, they plot, they judge, they see through bulkheads and are able to spot shirking at 50 yards on a dark and stormy night, right up at the other end of the ship – they miss nothing. Bligh, the men know, can spot a loose halyard on a spar in the middle of a gale, during the first watch. He can furthermore know who likely made the error; who should have spotted it long before the Captain did; and how both miserable miscreants should be severely punished under the Articles of War that guide all British warships.

  For now, there really are many tasks that he must devote himself to, and he is not a man to be distracted by other trivialities. Arriving back from receiving his orders to sail to Spithead, he drives his men all the harder, eager that their vessel be ship-shape and on its way to Spithead ’ere three days have passed, and then depart for Cape Horn before the end of October at the latest – hurry, hurry, hurry, we are already a month delayed!

  Yes, there will be many old salts who will tell Bligh that it can’t be done, you simply can’t get around the Horn if you leave England this late – it is nearly November after all – but Bligh does not care. He is prepared to back his own seamanship, and that of his crew, to accomplish what has not been done before, in order to shave 5000 miles and two or three months off the voyage. Yes, by going around Cape Horn, rather than going with the winds around the Cape of Good Hope and to the south past New Holland, rounding Van Diemen’s Land, they might be able to get to Tahiti in seven months, instead of nine or ten, which would mean they may be able to get the plants on board before they germinate, and beyond everything else, he would be back to his beloved Betsy and wee bairns six months earlier than expected. They must get around Cape Horn!

  In the meantime, the Bounty settles ever deeper in the water as more supplies come on board, including sheets of iron, which the Armourer Joseph Coleman will be able to use to do everything from fixing the guns to making nails and axes, not to mention fashioning trinkets for whatever Natives they come across. The sheets of iron can go with the 3000 steel blades, many thousand iron nails, 50 saws, dozens of looking glasses, thousands of beads and 250 ear-rings and shirts that Bligh has already packed away as ‘trading goods’, with which he will be able to barter with the Natives for the things that they need – hopefully including saplings of bread-fruit! And seeds, in turn, many seeds, with David Nelson carefully storing away everything from corn seeds to seeds for apple and pear trees, tomato vines and so forth.

  For their part, the vendors of Portsmouth are eager to supply whatever they can, as quickly as they can. These are not boom times like six months earlier when they had supplied so much for Captain Phillip and the 11 ships of his First Fleet – oh, the money they had made! – but it is precious business at a time when most other ships are settling down for the winter.

  Of course, for a captain of the Royal Navy in his home country, there is no problem as Bligh has the Admiralty right behind him, paying whatever bills he presents. Once away from England, however, in far-flung climes, Bligh will have to rely on his commission, that simple but invaluable paper of authority, embossed with the Royal Seal, which should see him granted credit in any foreign port civilised enough to read it.

  •

  The short voyage to Spithead actually proves very difficult as ‘a very heavy gale’ soon drives the ship ‘on the coast of France’, and for the first time, the crew are acquainted with the fact that the storm that bursts forth from their Captain will likely be greater than any storm the weather can throw at them. Though testy in readying the ship, once in action like this, he displays a temper and a tempest for the ages.

  Nevertheless, as a first test of the ship and her crew, that gale proves handy, and once at Spithead, Bligh is able to report ‘with pleasure’ to Sir Joseph Banks the Bounty ‘very capable’.39

  As to the officers and crew, Bligh is also preliminarily satisfied.

  ‘The Master [Mr Fryer] is a very good Man & gives me every satisfaction,’40 as do the botanist David Nelson and his assistant William Brown, with both men judged ‘very satisfactory’.41

  As to the crew, Bligh can happily report that, ‘we all seem embark’d heartily in one cause which I shall cherish as much as possible’.42

  There remains, alas, one exception to this glowing first act of the voyage and that is the Surgeon, Dr Thomas Huggan, of whom Bligh writes to Sir Joseph Banks: ‘I believe [he] may be a very capable man, but his indolence & corpulency render him rather unfit for the Voyage – I wish I may get him to change.’43

  To Bligh’s mind, it is against nature, against common sense, and against proper naval practice to have the man in charge of maintaining the crew’s health guzzling gallons of wine, brandy and rum to get through the day.

  Nevertheless, after his attempt to have Huggan replaced fails, Bligh has no choice but to go with the drunken sot he has been given. All he can do is to sign up a Surgeon’s Assistant, Thomas Ledward, as backup to Huggan, signing him on, for the moment, as an ‘Able Seaman’.

  ‘The Captain,’ Ledward writes to a friend soon afterwards, ‘is almost certain that I shall get a first Mate’s pay, and shall stand a great chance of immediate promotion, and if the Surgeon dies (as he has the character of a drunkard), I shall have a Surgeon’s acting order.’44

  In the meantime, now that the Bounty is arrived at Spithead, Bligh is quick to present his credentials and his respects to Vice-Admiral Samuel Hood – the Commander-in-Chief at Portsmouth – and make clear that he wishes to soon be on his way, once he receives those official orders from the Admiralty.

  Oddly, as Bligh reports to Sir Joseph, he seems to be the only one with this sense of urgency:

  I have just now waited on Lord Hood who has not yet
received any orders concerning me. The Commissioner promises one every assistance & I have no doubt but the trifles I have to do here [will be] soon accomplished. I shall take a pleasure informing you of my progress as I go on and I hope by the time my busyness is over here the Wind will turn favorable – at present I could not move with it.45

  But to Bligh’s stupefaction, and outrage, the orders are slow to arrive. Two weeks later, they are still waiting, and so he writes to Sir Joseph again, pressing his case.

  Bounty at Spithead

  Nov 18th 1787

  Sir

  Since my last letter to you wherein I told you of my arrival here, I have been anxiously expecting my Orders. – To see so fine a Wind expending itself and so late in the season as I am, has given me much uneasyness, and it will be particularly hard, if instead of some good reason for detaining the Ship, it has been owing to her being forgot that the orders have not been sent down for me to go to Sea.

  I beg Dear Sir to remain with the utmost respect

  Your most obliged and very [affectionate].

  Humble Servant

  Wm Bligh46

  And yet, day after day, still nothing. The moment of leaving Spithead Harbour should have happened two months ago! And every day’s delay, Captain Bligh knows, means a later arrival off the turbulent seas of Cape Horn.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ON THEIR WAY

  The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,

  Merrily did we drop

  Below the kirk, below the hill,

  Below the lighthouse top.

  The Sun came up upon the left,

  Out of the sea came he!

  And he shone bright, and on the right

  Went down into the sea.1

  Samuel Taylor Coleridge,

  ‘The Rime of the Ancient Mariner’

  24 November 1787, Spithead, orders away my boy