Back Across the North Pacific Toward Okhotsk.
Across Siberia to America – Part 18.
After their winter on Kodiak Island, Khvostov and Davydov are finally able to sail for Okhotsk. Baranov has entrusted them with a large cargo, comprising some two million rubles’ worth of furs, primarily those of the North Pacific sea otter. Collecting these furs and delivering them to Asia is the main activity of the Russian-American Company. Once Khvostov and Davydov deliver them Okhotsk, others will transport them overland to Yakutsk, then Irkutsk, and finally to Kyakhta, the trading center south of Lake Baikal on the frontier between Siberia and Mongolia. There, the Irkutsk-based traders will exchange them with their Chinese counterparts for silks, nankeens, cotton textiles, porcelains, and especially tea. These goods will then find their way across Siberia, the Ural Mountains, and European Russia to market, primarily in Moscow and St. Petersburg.
The previous installment:
The key incident in this episode shows how precarious the whole enterprise was.
This is the first of two installments that will bring our travelers back to Okhotsk. Some Russian nautical terms are idiosyncratic to that language. In particular, they often described the winds in terms of the set of sail appropriate for the conditions, for example, a “reefed-topsail” wind. Russian navigators conformed to European usage by reckoning longitude from the meridian of Greenwich. In the Pacific, they always gave east longitude, so where we would give longitude as 160º west, they would give it as 200º. To convert, subtract their longitude from 360º. We also encounter the Reaumur thermometer again. On this scale, 0º is the freezing point of water, and 80º is the boiling point. Russians often quote temperatures above zero as so many “degrees of heat,” and below zero as so many “degrees of frost.” This is true even today, though now Russian weather reports give temperatures in Celsius.
DAVYDOV’S NARRATIVE (Continued)
CHAPTER V.
Our voyage to Okhotsk and our return to St Petersburg.
26 June [1803].
Twice, with the wind blowing, we weighed anchor, but both times we were forced to come again to anchor, because of the calm that followed.
27 June.
At 5 o'clock in the morning, with a light breeze blowing out from the north, we weighed anchor and with the help of a tow we went beyond the islets. With the wind from SSE, we stood to E, then with an east wind stood SSE; we bypassed the Chiniak cape and Ugak Island, and descended to S. The swell was coming from SE.
29 June.
In cloudy weather with rain and the same wind, we set our course south. Puffins and fulmars appeared near the ship.
30 June.
Wind NE, course SSW. By the evening we had to take two reefs in the topsail. Puffins, fulmars and starlings flew around the ship.
1 July.
Wind W, somewhat variable. In the afternoon the weather became clear.
2 July.
The wind is SW, the weather is rather clear, and as of the noon observation latitude of the place is 53°, 45’, longitude 199°, 45’. [160º 15’ W; about 75 mi S of Alaska’s SW peninsula, before it breaks into the Aleutians]
3 July.
Wind SW with little change.
4 July.
Wind E, course SW, cloudy weather. Puffins and fulmars were visible, porpoises were diving near the ship.
5 July.
Until 6 o’clock in the afternoon, we stood to SW in a fresh ENE wind with heavy rain, after which it calmed down and became foggy.
6 July.
When the fog cleared, we saw Unalashka, and with a southerly wind we entered the strait between that island and Unalga [the Unalga Pass is off the east end of Unalaskha –JT.], meaning to push through to the northern side of the Aleutian Islands ridge; but the wind calmed, and then there was a breeze from NE, so we went down the southern side of Unalashka. We saw whales and sea lions near the land.
7 July.
All day long calm or variable quiet breezes, which kept us from rounding the Cape of Unalashka. We saw a sea cat [I’m thinking a walrus here –JT.].
8 July.
On a light breeze between S and E we sailed very calmly near two small islands lying on the southern side of Umnak [the next island west of Unalashka –JT.]. We saw sea lions and birds, usually found near the shores. At midnight, a whale breached so close to the ship and with such a noise that many thought it was a breaker hitting an underwater rock.
9 July.
The ebb and flow of the sea brought us closer to the two aforementioned islets, then carried us away from them. About noon two baidarkas arrived from Umnak and brought some fresh fish from the promyshlennik Kryukov located there. Their baidarkas are made in a much better way than the Kodiaks’, especially the one-hatched; it is as long as the Kodiak two-hole, but so narrow and shallow that it is surprising how they can manage it in rough weather. The nose does not have horns bent upwards, but it is also divided in two with a stick tied to both extremities, I think so that the sea grass does not snag there and cause the baidarka to capsize. The stern is blunt and then comes to a sharp angle. We took from these islanders four arrows, and two bows used for shooting them, and they were given a shirt, tobacco and several other gifts, which they did not expect, as could be seen from their extreme surprise. All this day we saw a lot of sea lions and whales.
10 July.
Wind changing between W and SSW. We saw an Ara [this is some sort of sea bird –JT.] and a whale chased by orcas. The four-hill islets disappeared from us at nightfall.
11 July.
ESE wind, course W, cloudy weather with rain. We saw whales, puffins, one Ara, and seaweed floating in the water.
12 July.
A strong reef topsail wind from W. At 11 o'clock in the morning, approaching the island of Seguam, we came about onto the starboard tack. The weather was very cold. At noon the Reaumur thermometer showed 5 1/2 degrees of heat [about 7ºC., about 44ºF.], and at six in the evening only 4 [5ºC., 41ºF.]. It seemed like not the middle of summer, but the end of autumn. On
deck, the people’s hands were chilly, and after taking reefs, they were so numb that they had to be lowered into cold water to warm them.
13 July.
In the evening the wind died down and we turned to the port tack and saw again Amlia and Seguam. Puffins and seagulls flew near the ship, and two starlings who had sat down to rest on the sails were caught by hand; but when they came down from aloft, the people let them go.
14 July.
Calm, and then a gentle breeze from NW. The weather is rather good. We were in sight of Atka Island. We saw whales, porpoises, puffins, fulmars and cockerels.
15 and 16 July.
With a westerly wind, we maneuvered along the southern side of Atka Island, in view of it. The same birds and animals accompanied us.
17 July.
The weather was clear and the sun was out for the time being. In the evening, with a quiet breeze, we approached Atka.
Nazan Bay and Amlia Pass. Current NOAA chart of the perilous strait Khvostov and Davydov shot through at the terrifying speed of about 15 miles per hour.
18 July.
Wind S. We proceeded on the starboard tack, and then on the port tack, parallel to Atka and Amlia islands. The current of the sea carried us noticeably closer to the shore. From midday the wind began to freshen and we, seeing that there was no way to round either Atka or Amlia, decided at one o'clock in the afternoon to stand to NE by N, into the narrow and unknown strait separating Atka from Amlia. Foam appeared just at the narrows, and we did not know what to conclude: was it a countercurrent, or a breaker on the rocks? but the seagrass growing on the banks, seen on the left side of that foam, made us fear that we were going straight to a stone reef. Under topsails and jib our [water] speed was 5 1/2 miles per hour; and the current added the same, if not more, so we very quickly approached the narrows. Soon we saw that those foamy splashes extended across the entire strait; but in three cables (360 sazhens) we could not find the bottom because of the speed of the current. Finally, we found our depth was 17 sazhens, then 12; then it became calm, but we noticed that the ship was drifting towards the Atka coast, from which a bank stretched. We dropped anchor and paid out seventy sazhens of rope. The ship made a very rapid turn when it came to anchor, but the anchor dragged and we were carried to the very foam. Before we had time to speak, to blink, we found ourselves in it. Then we saw that the breaker did not come from the effect of turbulence on the shallows, but from a strong countercurrent, or rip, as the promyshlenniks usually call it. At that very moment, a cruel squall came up from the south, so to avoid being thrown onto the Atka coast, we cut away the anchor, set our sails and stood to the NE. The passage according to the log was 8 1/4 miles, and if we add to this the speed of the current carrying us from 6 to 8 miles, then we can judge with what speed we rushed. Indeed, the banks of Atka and Amlia, each not more than a mile from us, only flashed by in our eyes. Once we passed the danger, we set the topgallants and began to take reefs from the topsails; the wind became fresh with squalls, but by midnight it dropped somewhat.
19 July.
With a fresh reef-topsail wind from S by W, S and S by E; we kept to W. At 4 pm, it started to rain slightly.
We were very glad to reach the northern side of the Aleutian Islands; for still a strong wind from the south could have put us in an extremely bad state. If we with our bad ship, even in a moderate wind, could not bypass either Atka, going forward, or Amlia turning back, what would happen to us in this strong wind on the other side of the islands? It would no doubt pin us to the shore. Then what hope would there be to stay at anchor in the open sea in a strong wind on a poor bottom (for there is almost no good one anywhere)? Having lost the ship, we would have been forced to cross from the Aleutian Islands on leather baidarkas to Kamchatka. Then the American company would have lost the cargo, which, of course, was worth about two million rubles.
This circumstance compels me to comment on the disadvantages of merchants’ very full vessels; for these cannot tack away from shore at all, but instead must perish on a lee shore, while a decently built ship, carrying less cargo, approaches it with all confidence and moves away, even with the wind blowing directly to the land. The citizens of the United States of America most of all understood this truth: they began to build their merchant ships better and now lose them less frequently than other European nations.
20 July.
Cloudy weather with fog and damp. Course W by S, with a fresh reef-topsail wind from the south, which died down by midnight. At noon, we observed ourselves at latitude 53°, 05’, on the meridian of Kanaga Island.
21 July.
In cloudy weather with fog and damp calm, and then a quiet variable wind, established by midnight from WSW. At noon, we observed ourselves on the meridian of the western end of the island of Tanaga [not the same as Kanaga; most likely Barabara Island, whose western-facing bay is Tanaga Bay –JT.].
22 July.
We kept to the same course. From midnight the wind blew from N, and then from NE; the swell is quite large, it went all day from NNW.
23 July.
The weather was lovely and warm; until two o'clock in the afternoon the calm continued, during which we untangled the rigging and lowered the baidarka, on which I rode around the ship and shot eight fulmars, including one white. The meat of these birds smells like whale oil, which they apparently feed on; for those which were shot released pieces of it from their mouths. Maybe a dead whale was floating around nearby. The observed latitude showed that the current drove us considerably to the NE. We also noticed this during our voyage from Okhotsk to America. At two o'clock the wind blew from the SSW.
24 July.
The wind is the same, gentle, and then calm. In the evening, a lot of fulmars appeared near the ship, of whom I shot several. In addition, we saw puffins and sea swallows (Hyrondelles de mer), here called cockerels.
25 July.
Calm until midday, during which they lowered the baidarka, and I shot a fulmar and a sea robber. This bird is somewhat similar to the Ar, although it is completely different from its fast flight. Its nose is sharp, its belly and collar are white; the back, wings and head are dark gray, and the legs are black with webbed feet. The sea robber has very keen vision, flies high and when it sees something, rushes headlong into the sea. It is called by the promyshlenniks by this name because it chases after seagulls and fulmars until they throw out the food they have recently caught.
In the afternoon, a soft breeze blew out from the south, and at 7 o'clock in the evening there was a damp fog.
26 July.
With the wind SW by S; course WNW. The weather was cloudy and wet all day long, so that the sun at noon appeared only for a minute in fog. Yesterday and today we saw common birds and a lot of seaweed.
27 July.
Cloudy weather with rain, the wind variable. It finally settled from NE by E and became quite fresh. We stood to SW.
28 July.
With very cloudy weather and a moderate wind from NE and NNE we went to SW. We saw fulmars, puffins, sea swallows, whitish seagulls holding near the shores, and many plants carried by the sea. At 1 o'clock in the afternoon we saw the island of Attu and stood W by S in order to round it on its western side. Now we again noticed that the current of the sea carried us to the NE. At 4 o'clock in the afternoon the weather cleared up. The water, which usually has a bluish color, seemed to us much greener: maybe the sun was the reason. The declination of the compass through the taken Amplitude is found to be 9° east. On the mountains of Attu Island there was a lot of snow, which even at the bottom at the bases of these was whitening in places; the horizon at the setting of the sun was completely clear and over the whole island thick gray clouds hung in large ridges, from under which the wild mountain peaks covered with snow appeared; the sky from the accent of the last rays of the sun took on a very bright color: all this together, presented a wonderful sight.
Our mariners traversed the Aleutians from Kodiak to the Near Islands, south of the islands until they passed between Atka and Amlia, after which they were on the northern, leeward (and hence safer) side of the chain. The Kurils are the string of islands southwest of Petropavlovsk. The parallel passing near Okhotsk is 60º N. Map by Jake Chila.
29 July.
With a rather fresh wind alternating between N by W and NW, we stood towards WSW and SW. At noon, according to the observed latitude, we saw that Attu Island on the map of Captain Sarychev was laid about twenty minutes north of where it should be. Puffins in no small number accompanied the ship until the evening, in addition, we saw several fulmars, sea swallows and one Ar.
30 July.
With fairly good weather and the wind changing between NE by E and E, we went to WSW. Compass declination by Amplitude 7°,30’ east. In the evening, we saw many porpoises off the ship, overtaking it and emerging in front of the bow; but they all left, as soon as one of them was wounded with a harpoon.
31 July.
With the wind changing between E and SE, we stood to WSW. During the day, the weather was clear, and at night, for the first time this voyage, we saw a clear sky strewn with stars. The same birds appeared occasionally.
1 August.
The wind and course are the same, by the end of the day it died down. At noon we considered ourselves in the middle between Attu and the third Kuril Strait.
Our mariners have traversed the entire Aleutian chain, and they are about to pass the Kuril Islands into the Sea of Okhotsk. In the next installment, they will arrive at the port of Okhotsk, having successfully transported their cargo of furs across the North Pacific. Thanks in no small part to Khvostov’s seamanship, the Russian-American Company posted a return on invested capital of 30% for 1803 (For more, see https://globalcapitalism.history.ox.ac.uk/alaskan-fur-rush-and-russian-american-company ).