By John Kimantas
Nootka Sound was fated to become the prominent port of the Pacific Northwest in the 1780s, with its discovery credited to Juan Pérez, who was the first to anchor there in 1774. He made no landfall and made no chart. However, journals and references provide a glimpse into what occurred during his one night there. And yet not surprisingly, perhaps, so many interpretations of these basic facts appear to be wrong.
Let's dissect what actually occurred on that single night and the following morning just south of Nootka Sound on August 8, 1774 aboard the Santiago by taking a look at the journals that recorded that visit.
The first reference comes from Pérez himself from his journal, translated here in the work Juan Pérez on the Northwest Coast: Six Documents of His Expedition in 1774 published in 1989 by the Oregon Historical Society. The passage describing Perez's arrival reads thusly:
“From the said hour [3 p.m.] we were sounding frequently, and the first depth was 25 brazas [equivalent to a fathom, so six feet]. From this depth we came to 15, 16 and 19 brazas, and from this to 25 brazas [43 metres], very dark sand and green slime, where we anchored, giving it the name Surgidero de San Lorenzo. This maneuver was done at 7 in the evening, at which time a bearing was taken of Punta de Santa Clara to the NW, a distance of 4 leagues [12 miles], and that of San Estevan to the SE, a distance of 2 leagues, and the middle or inside angle to the E a distance of one league [3 miles].”
This provides several frames of reference for distances and soundings, which in combination should be able to provide a highly accurate location for his anchoring—with caveats. More on that in a bit.
The second telling reference is from 1774 - Diary of Fray Tomas de la Peña Kept During the Voyage of the Santiago. Peña was an assistant to the friar Juan Crespi on the Santiago, and he wrote:
“But the high wind and the sea carried us steadily towards the shore, so that it was necessary to cut the cable and lose the anchor. The cable being cut, sail was made with the ship's head to the south-west a quarter south, and with great difficulty we managed to weather a rocky point that stretched out about a league into the sea. The Captain named the anchorage the Roadstead of San Lorenzo, some hills which were to the northwestward of this roadstead he called Hills of Santa Clara, and the point to the south-eastward he named San Estéban. According to what the Captain told us, this roadstead is in latitude 49° 30' ”
This requires some additional interpretation, as there is no rocky point of land that stretches a league into the sea. That's because the wording above comes from the common English language translation. However, if you read the Spanish original, it is written “pudimos rebasar una punta de piedras que sale de la tierra como una légua” This translates more accurately as “we succeeded in passing a stony point which projects from the land for nearly a league.” Either way it is poorly worded, but the second translation changes the meaning from potentially land extending outward to, instead, a rock jutting from the ocean at a distance of a league from shore. If the latter, there is a set of rocks a league offshore, and that becomes important in placing the Santiago that night.
I'll end the quotes with this from the journal of Joseph Mozińo from his journal Noticias de Nutka. Mozińo was a naturalist who went to Nootka when the Spanish built a fort at Yuquot on Nootka Island in 1788, and he stayed for several years, becoming fluent in the local language. This allowed him to ask the question of what it was like for the locals of Yuquot to see the Santiago. This is how he recorded the answer:
"The sight of this vessel filled the natives at first with terror, and at the present time they testify to having been seized with fright from the moment they saw to the westward the corpulent machine slowly approaching their coasts. They believed that Qua-utz was coming to make them a second visit, and to punish the people for their sins. As many as were able hid in the mountains, others shut themselves up in their cabins and the boldest took to their canoes in order to examine more closely the great bulk that rose above the ocean. They approached the vessel timorously lacking courage to go aboard for some time, until attracted by the friendly signs of the Spanish crew they mounted the ship and looked with astonishment at so many new and extraordinary objects that were presented to their view.”
(This version differs from a common English-language version to correct a major mistranslation of the phrase "los mas atrevidos tomaron sus Piraguas para reconocer desde cerca la mole que sobresalía en el Océano.” The English language version states they viewed the ship from a hill, when in fact the great bulk was the Santiago).
How was this all interpreted historically? If you research it, you are likely to find the following reference from the Oregon Historical Society publication:
Let's start by examining all the errors in this illustration based on what we know from the journals. We know Pérez anchored in 43 metres. This illustration puts the Santiago slightly west of the bathymetry line of 20 metres, and so in incorrect. It is true to the distances of 2 leagues to Estevan Point and four leagues to Bajo Point, as indicated in Pérez's journal. But two things need to be kept in mind. One is that distances by sight were guesses only in that era, and often highly inaccurate (as proven later in many journals when true distances could be verified. Cook and Vancouver were known to miscalculate distances by as much as 100 miles).
The other consideration is this illustration indicates the estimate originates at the southernmost point of land at Estevan Point. But imagine if Pérez was anchored farther to the north. That point would be invisible. Instead he would be looking at the southernmost point of land at Barcester Bay. That means the distances, even if accurate, could be a "dogleg" rather than a straight line between the two:
Oh, and we know from Mozińo the locals saw the ship approaching from the west. This is not reflected in the illustration shown above. Nor is the anchorage shown at 49° 30' as indicated in the journal, likely on the assumption the reading was not exact, which is a fair assumption, given accuracy overall in that era. Fair enough
Let's look at the depth soundings to find 43 metres in this vicinity to find an approximate probable location, based on the assumption the depth indicated in the journal was likely highly accurate, given the need to be accurate was a matter of life and death:
The arrow indicates the southernmost area where the Santiago could be anchored at approximately 43 metres and be a league offshore. Perfect! Except for a huge problem. We know from the journals the ship was driven towards shore, prompting the crew to cut the anchor cable. They then narrowly escaped rocks on a "southwest quarter south" route (about 215 degrees). Two possible routes are shown above: a dashed line of the drift with the most direct route to shore, and a much longer drift true to a route of 215 degrees necessary to narrowly escape the rocks.
Something about this length of drift should be obvious. The shortest distance is one league, or three miles. The question then is why did the cable need to be cut? Even if they were foolish enough to not notice the anchor was dragging for two miles, by which time the view of the shore would have changed dramatically to indicate the problem, they would still have a mile to raise the anchor.
There are only two reasons to cut an anchor cable: the anchor is stuck fast and can't be retrieved or there is insufficient time before running aground for it to be lifted. Clearly the anchor was not stuck. They were dragging anchor after all. So insufficient time over the course of three miles? Or that they didn't notice for nearly three miles that they had drifted and were suddenly in imminent danger? It beggars belief.
Lastly, the rocks they almost hit, now named Perez Rocks, extend only a mile from shore, not the league indicated in the journal.
Here is an alternative theory: the rocks they almost struck were not Perez Rocks, but Escalante Rocks some distance to the north (the midpoint of the dogleg illustrated above). Here is the chart of this area:
You can see clearly the area where the Santiago might have anchored in 40 metres or more of water. Interestingly, that is a distance of about a league from shore. The difference here is amount of offshore rocks that would have become a hazard well before the Santiago neared shore. The dashed line shows the extent of the possible drift before the cable would have to be cut. From there a route of 215 degrees places them just outside of danger of Escalante Rocks, which extend a league from shore, a distance that matches the reference to the rocks in the journal.
The drift is about a mile, or one-third the prevailing theory. Is it possible the ship could have drifted that far to suddenly catch the crew by surprise? Absolutely. The creep toward shore would not be easily discerned by looking toward shore. The change in perspective of the landscape would alter slowly over time. It is likely no one noticed until the sudden appearance of nearby rocks, requiring quick action. Thus the need to cut the cable and lose the anchor.
There is one last piece of the puzzle that points to Escalante Rocks as the likely location of the anchorage of the Santiago: Mozińo's journal that the residents of Yuquot saw the ship and visited. Had the ship's course been that of the Oregon Historical Society illustration, the ship would not have been visible from Yuquot, or if so, it would have been just a dot on the horizon. At Escalante Point, it would have been clearly visible as a corpulent beast, particularly if it passed on a westward course, rather than from the south as illustrated by the Oregon Historical Society.
A counter theory to that could be the Hesquiaht visited, who resided near Estevan Point, and it is possible that Mozińo didn't distinguish between the two local clans. This theory falls into trouble from Esteban José Martínez and his 1788 journal which records his initial meeting with the Yuquot tyee Maquinna on his arrival to Nootka. Martinez was the second in command on the Pérez voyage in 1774. He writes on page 63 of his journal that Maquinna recognized him from that earlier encounter 14 years prior. So yes, the Nootka locals did see the Santiago.
Why is determining the correct anchorage important? Well, as this is the very first chapter of European history in what was to become British Columbia and the Pacific Northwest, we might as well be as accurate as possible about it. Besides, it could be proven. The anchor is still down there somewhere (or what remains of it). It has never been found. If anyone has ever tried to find it, the chances are they were looking in the wrong location. I suggest it lies just off the rocks north of Escalante Point. Wouldn't that be an interesting find?
John Kimantas is the author of The Wolves of Nootka, a trilogy examining the events surrounding voyages to Nootka Sound in the period 1774-1792. For more information on The Wolves of Nootka trilogy, visit here.