Explorers cautious at first contact
Spanish sought to identify natives while keeping watch for rival British, French
Victoria author Rosemary Neering’s short history of Spanish naval exploration chronicles Spain’s efforts — ultimately unsuccessful — to become the dominant colonial power in the North Pacific. In the excerpt below, a young sailor, Juan Pérez, embarks from San Blas near Puerto Vallarta to lead the first Spanish expedition into northern waters since the voyage of Juan de Fuca nearly 200 years earlier.
Chosen to lead an expedition that would leave San Blas in 1774 was Juan José Pérez Hernández. Pérez was just a pilot in the navy, a junior in rank who would not normally lead such a voyage. But there was no one more senior at San Blas, and Pérez was honoured to be chosen and eager to be under way. He would captain the Santiago, a frigate and the largest ship yet built at San Blas, though just 25 metres long and eight broad.
The list of supplies for the ship, some of which were destined for the California missions, provides a capsule description of life aboard ship and in the missions: jerked beef, dried fish, hardtack, lard, beans, rice, lentils, cheese, salt, spices, and such necessary luxuries as cinnamon, powdered chocolate, brandy and wine. That they took aboard lemon syrup and a concoction made from cactus plants suggests they knew how to deal with scurvy, yet that condition would bedevil every voyage into the north.
Crowded on deck were a dozen bulls, two dozen sheep, 15 goats and 79 chickens, most of them destined for the missions. The ship also carried a good supply of armament, with six cannon, 36 muskets with bayonets, 36 machetes and a good deal of ammunition. Somehow, there was still room for the crew on the cramped vessel: 84 men, including 14 gunners, two cooks, and carpenters and caulkers for the inevitable times when the ship must be careened and repaired.
Fearing that if the Russians or British learned of the voyage, they would act quickly to arrive on the coast first, the crew had made all preparations in secret. Pérez was given instructions, but he was not to open them until he left Monterey, for there were, presumably, spies everywhere. He sailed from San Blas in late January of 1774 and arrived at San Diego, where he remained, for reasons unclear, for 25 days. Leaving San Diego, he arrived at Monterey, where he stayed for another 26 days, finally departing on May 8. Now he could open his instructions and find out exactly what he had been commanded to do.
The letter instructed him to sail north as far as he could. If he reached latitude 60° north, he could turn back south, staying in sight of the coast as much as possible. He should go ashore wherever possible and take formal possession of the land. At the same time, he should acquire fresh water and the wood needed to fuel the cooking stoves on the ship. He was not to start any settlements but was to make note of any places where a settlement might be founded. In such places, he should erect a large cross where it might be seen from the sea and build a cairn of stones in which he should place a glass bottle containing a formal document of possession.
Should he find sites where foreign nationals were living, he was to avoid contact but observe as much as he could of who they were and what they were doing, then sail north of any such settlements and take possession for Spain of those lands. He must try to avoid contact with any other ship he intercepted, but, if contact were unavoidable, he should not say what he was doing, explaining instead that he was taking supplies to Alta, California, and had, unfortunately, been blown far off course.
If he found native people ashore, he should give them presents and find out as much as he could about who they were and how they lived, including what metals, crops, plants and domestic animals they had. He should determine as best he could if they had seen other ships or other foreigners, and ask what these people were doing, where they came from, where they were going and if they were coming back. He should treat any natives well, doing nothing by force and everything in friendship, constraining his crew to do the same.
And all of this, if accomplished, would be well rewarded by His Majesty, the king.
The prevailing winds in the north Pacific dictated that any sailing ship that wanted to explore the far northwest coast should first sail northwest, then north to intersect the coast before sailing south again. Pérez and the Santiago proceeded as recommended. The fog, darkness and adverse winds were constant threats; the crew could only pray they did not founder on shoals or shore.
Two and a half months out of Monterey, they sighted land at the south end of the Alaska Panhandle, the first proven Spanish sighting on the northwest coast. Soon after, three great canoes emerged from the Queen Charlotte Islands (now Haida Gwaii), paddled by some 50 chanting Haida men. They made gestures of welcome, but would approach no closer than a musket’s range away. When Pérez made welcoming gestures in return, they drew alongside and were soon happily trading with the crew.
They offered otter, bear and seal pelts, woven blankets and dried fish. In return, they accepted knives, beads, metal and clothing. The Santiago pulled away for the night; when it returned the next day, more canoes arrived, each carrying some 20 men and women. They were most eager for any metal that had cutting edges, and for abalone shells, fine additions to the less beautiful local shells they used to adorn their blankets and capes.
Though there were the inevitable difficulties in communication between men who did not know each other’s languages, the Spaniards noted all that they could see, hear or deduce, and made the first journal entries about the northwest coast First Nations. Two of the Haida came aboard the Santiago; two sailors disembarked into a canoe. All went well, except that Pérez was at the mercy of the winds and tides: he could not find a place to anchor. Nonetheless, he stayed for four days. Because he was somewhat distrustful of what might happen if he went ashore, he did not send a landing party. Instead, he said goodbye and headed south once more.
Often now, the fog was too heavy or he was forced to sail too far offshore to see the land. Pérez was a careful voyager — not for him were the reckless feats of later explorers. He never wanted to risk losing his ship and thus quite probably the lives of the crew and his own life. He did sight the coast of Vancouver Island on his route south, but, not surprisingly, did not recognize it was an island. On Aug. 8, he was finally able to drop anchor off Nootka Sound, the protected opening a third of the way down the Island’s west coast, which he named Surgidero de San Lorenzo.
It was the first confirmed sighting by Europeans of the sound that was to play such a large part in subsequent events. He tried to enter the sound in the ship’s launch and perhaps go ashore, but the Santiago swung in the wind and he had to bring the launch back on board and cut the ship’s anchor free.
Several canoes of Nuu-chahnulth gathered to trade. Some came aboard the Santiago, and one or two slipped a couple of silver spoons into their clothing. It was a petty and little-mourned loss for the Spaniards, but the spoons would prove significant. When Capt. James Cook arrived at Nootka three years later, he saw the spoons in the possession of the Nuu-chah-nulth, and realized that the Spaniards had indeed been the first Europeans at Nootka. But no Spaniard had gone ashore, and much would be made of this failure when nations fought over possession of the region.
Pérez left Nootka and sailed on south, bypassing Juan de Fuca Strait. Later, Pérez’s second-incommand, Estéban José Martinez, claimed he had seen the entrance to the presumed strait, but that Pérez had refused to go closer for fear of rocks or shoals. Martinez would soon return to the region, becoming a key figure in Nootka Sound history. The captain and crew did sight Mount Olympus and columns of smoke rising from First Nations’ villages.
His crew severely beset by scurvy, Pérez saw no reason to tarry. The Santiago returned to San Blas, and Pérez sent news of the journey to the viceroy. Bucareli was not pleased with the results. Much time, energy and money had been spent to send the expedition north, and now they had returned without having performed any acts of possession or having landed anywhere on the coast, and having charted very little of the coastline. Yes, he wrote to Madrid, the weather had been bad and the fears many, but surely that was to be expected on such a voyage. They should have done more; they should have done better. The only good news was that the men had found no evidence of British or Russian settlement.
But seeing none did not mean that none existed. Spain must secure possession and protect itself. Further expeditions would have to go north as soon as possible.