While the men from the small ship's boat were ashore at Tofua gathering coconuts, they were kept under surveillance by a group of native Tofuans. The Tofuans were wary of the usual landing parties which were armed with muskets and rigourously repelled attempts to approach their boats. But these foreigners acted differently and the situation was not one that the natives had previously experienced. First, there was no big ship in the offing, the type whose heavy guns they had learned to fear. Second, these men seemed frantic in their attempts to gather up the food—a speed that seemed to be borne of fear. There was an easy way to test that fear.
Stones lay about ready to be hurled—the smooth kind that would fly true when thrown. Normally when they reached for stones the islanders would be threatened with the muskets of the landing party. And often a frightening, deafening noise would erupt from these muskets, which they had come to recognize as a warning. Then would be the time to drop the stones at their feet. But no muskets were evident this time, and the islanders, gaining courage, moved forward to within accurate throwing distance. Still there was no action on the part of the white men, although one did shout at the Tofuans in a voice that betrayed his fear. As the strangers drew together making an even easier target, the first stone was thrown with almost the speed and accuracy of a musket ball.
One foreigner broke and rushed for his boat. That was encouragement enough for the Tofuans to start their attack in earnest, and a shower of stones fell around those of the boat's crew who had stood their ground. One stone caught a seamari above his eye and he dropped to the ground. Those who stooped to assist him saw from a glance that the big wound was fatal, and ran toward the boat in panic. Many were hit before reaching the boat, but the first man and the boat guard had already pushed it from the beach and it was afloat. Scrambling on board, the men were able to pole the boat out of range without further loss, leaving their comrade dead on the beach.
Twice within the past few hours Bligh had been forced to eat the bitter fruit of humiliation. Having been divested of his authority as a king's officer by the mutineers, he had now been forced to realize that it was only that authority that had enabled him to land in any of the islands with impunity. Without arms, the reception he had received at Tofua might be repeated at any of the other islands to which his old captain had given the name "Friendly." No other known islands were within easy sailing distance.
To the eastward and to windward lay the island of Tahiti but it would be impossible to sail there in the tiny overcrowded boat. To the westward, 3,618 miles away, lay the island of Timor in the East Indies, where he could be sure to find friends and a ship to take him back to England. But it was a voyage that could not fail to stir grave doubts. Bligh had only the 23-foot launch from his old command ship Bounty, and it was overcrowded with seventeen men besides himself. Then he would have to sail through the mass of reefs that the Tongans had told Cook marked the eastern barrier to the islands of Fiji. He would also have to chance meeting the fierce warriors who were said to inhabit the islands. The islands themselves, being unknown and uncharted, would offer more navigational hazards.
Many things may have combined to help Bligh reach the decision, but after all there was no other course open to him. There was his firm resolve to bring the mutineers to justice, his concern as a captain for the welfare of his men, the opportunity to redeem himself for the loss of his ship—probably a combination of all three—backed by the stubbornness that was the hallmark of Bligh. The first danger to overcome was the Fiji Islands, although they had yet to receive that name. In attempting to give them their Fijian name Viti, the Tongans, who had difficulty in pronouncing the name, referred to the islands as Feejee or Fechee, and there were other variations of the spelling.
Bligh's journal which together with his report finally reached the Admiralty, recorded:
My intention is to steer to the W.N.W. that I may see the group of islands called Fidgee, if they lie in that direction.
West northwest, dead before the wind, was the only safe course for the boat with her low freeboard. An attempt to sail her on a reach had already caused the tiny craft to heel and ship water over the gunwales. The men were forced to bale continuously, and they would soon be worn out with the heavy work. When the course was altered to run before the wind, there was relief from bailing for a time. The men were able to rest after the boat was dried out. But as the boat left the unseen shelter of the Tonga Islands astern, the motion became more violent as the swell increased. Soon the curling tops of the waves lapped the stern of the racing boat, and then, as their height was further increased, the white spray slopped over, drenching the helmsman.
To continue in the increasing sea and swell would only cause the boat to fill, despite frantic bailing. Bligh and his seamen were only too conscious of the danger. The easier plan would have been to try to sail back to the shelter of the shore, placate the natives, and land, hoping to be able to make the boat more seaworthy. But Bligh dismissed this thought immediately. Fortunately the carpenter's tool box had been placed in the boat by the mutineers.
1. Captain William Bligh, an early visitor to the islands.
Bligh directed the carpenter to remove the forward thwarts and use them to build up the stern. This was no easy task with the boat dipping in the waves, but it was eventually completed. In addition the new boards had been covered with canvas to make the joints watertight. With the boat again bailed dry, her commander could dispense with the problem of immediate survival and plan the long voyage ahead. The conservation of food and water he took as his own responsibility. Watches were set, and then Bligh could turn his attention to the care of the sick. In addition to this he was the navigator of the small craft.
As soon as possible, comfort and the stability of the boat received his attention. The tools from the box were taken out and stowed on the bottom boards, thus placing the weight low down and improving stability. Then all men not on watch were ordered to lay down and obtain whatever rest was possible, which again reduced the top weight. Although he still had seventeen men with him, less than half of them were seamen. There was little in the nature of their normal duties that could be carried out by David Nelson, the botanist, and John Samuel, the captain's clerk.
Incredibly, with all the duties and the supervision of his crew, Bligh found time to keep a journal. On 4 May, 1789, six days after the mutiny of the Bounty, Bligh's journal records the sighting of a "flat topped island." It was Yagasa Levu, set among the maze of reefs that mark the eastern edge of the Fiji Islands.
While Bligh navigated by eye to clear the white water of the breaking surf, other islands were sighted; to starboard was Moce, and to port Namuka-i-Lau.
Steering to pass between the two islands, altering course to pass a small breaking reef, the Bounty launch was clear of the reef barrier that marked the eastern Fijian islands. This massive barrier, reported by Tongans who had been there in their canoes, had kept other seamen from visiting these islands for years. But none had so desperate a need as did the survivors of the mutiny.
Luck seemed to have changed after the abortive landing at Tofua. Bligh had been extremely fortunate to arrive off the eastern barrier in daylight, when he could easily steer clear of the surf. Also, although he did not know this, the stretch of water ahead through which he must sail at night was clear of dangers. An island, Vanua Vatu, was passed during the night, the boat remaining clear of the island's dim bulk. With dawn of the next day Gau and Nairai were smudged on the horizon ahead. It must have been galling to the men in the boat to pass by these lush green islands when they were. already rationed for food and water. But the islands were left far enough to port so the little craft would not be visible to watchers ashore. Although little was known about these islands, the stories told at Tonga about their fierce inhabitants caused their very names to be feared by the seamen.