Painting of HMS Beagle off Patagonia
Originally titled, Journal Of Researches Into The Natural History And Geology Of The Countries Visited During The Voyage Of H. M. S. Beagle Round The World, Under The Command Of Capt. Fitz Roy [Sic] R.N. By Charles Darwin, M.A., F.R.S.
Apology to the reader; This ‘review’ seems to have grown and grown, until there was a danger it would be nearly as long as the book itself. I’m afraid that I seem to have imitated Darwin himself in starting out to write a few brief notes and, as he himself often did, getting so engrossed in my subject that I ended up devoting far more time (and considerably more words) to it than I intended. Sorry!
Who can doubt that Darwin’s five-year circumnavigation of the world aboard HMS Beagle was the most significant and consequential bit of Scientific Tourism in the history of science? Not because of any particularly important discoveries made en route, though there were many, but because of its influence on the young Darwin himself and his subsequent life and thought. Reading his letters and journal we see how the voyage clearly inspired him to dedicate himself to the study of natural history, rather than sink comfortably into holy orders, and the uncontroversial life of the Victorian country parson he had seemed destined to become. This book[1] is his account of that voyage, and it may be worth noting that its immediate and apparently unexpected success doubtless encouraged the young Darwin to continue with his vocation.
Before the Beagle, Darwin was uncertain of his path in life. He had comfortable expectations of private wealth, but no vocation to follow. He had tried to study medicine, like his father, but soon decided it was not for him. He seems to have been reluctant to settle and commit himself, but had no real argument against the pressure to take a modest and respectable role in society, as was expected of an English gentleman of his class. By signing-on for the voyage as a semi-official naturalist, but principally as companion for Captain Fitzroy whose predecessor had shot himself on the previous voyage to the same region, he gave himself both freedom from having to make a choice, and time to pursue his interests. Who says you can’t run away from your problems?
Galapagos Tortoise – Illustration from The Voyage of the Beagle
Darwin would undoubtedly have continued his enthusiastic amateur ‘botanising, geologising and beetling’, as he put it, without his trip on the Beagle. But if he had followed the safe, comfortable, distracting path into respectable family life straight from university, would he have found the inspiration to seek even wider vistas of imagination and a simple, unifying principle to explain it all? Would he have found the courage to free himself from the orthodoxies of his time, both scientific and cultural, which he shared, without having experienced such different environments and personally observing the diversity and distribution of life? Was it not that Scientific Tour that caught his imagination, changed him personally, and inspired a sense of a mission to understand how what he observed had come to pass? All good old rhetorical questions for dramatic effect, of course, but the Beagle expedition gave Darwin nearly five uninterrupted years to explore the natural world around the whole planet; to see, as he later put it, ‘endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful’; and all the time guided by a principle (inspired by the science of geology) of seeking to understand how things came to be as they are seen today. And this determined accumulation of evidence for a history of life, as well as one of geology, shines out from every page of ‘The Voyage of the Beagle’.
Others would have proposed evolution by natural selection, as Wallace did, but perhaps no-one but Darwin could have assembled such a formidable arsenal of evidence and examples, or have dedicated so much time and effort to exploring every implication of the theory and every possible objection to it, before presenting the world with his discoveries. The Beagle experience transformed a largely conventional, rather unfocused, young man who preferred hunting to science, into a man whose life’s work would transform our understanding of life itself.
His travels also exposed him to a much wider variety of peoples and societies than he could have experienced in Britain, or even Europe, and perhaps freed him from parochialism. A mind as open and curious as Darwin’s can hardly fail to question his own beliefs and culture after seeing such different ways of living.
Finches of the Galapagos Islands
The lazy, Hollywood narrative would have us believe that Darwin observed the variety of species and the competition for ecological space, especially among the Galapagos Finches, and came up with Natural Selection. Alas, the reality is far more complex and considerably less dramatic, although rather more interesting. For instance, Darwin, for all his formidable knowledge, was not an expert ornithologist and actually misidentified many of the eponymous finches as birds of entirely different families, such as blackbirds and wrens, only realising his error after his return to England. So this crucial clue really only began to be seen for what it was when Darwin began to sort through his records. Having said that, Darwin had reported that the Galapagos islanders affirmed that they could tell which island any particular tortoise came from, so perhaps the germ of the idea that isolation leads to differentiation of species (as opposed to variation within a species) was there all along. ‘The Voyage’ journal shows, however, that Darwin was always observing the natural world with the question in mind, ‘What do our present observations tell us about the past?’ Influenced by the work of the geologist Charles Lyell, whose book Darwin took along (having been given a copy by Fitzroy), and to whom he dedicated his account of the expedition, Darwin was continually asking how things came to be as they are today. He was also noticing, as did Wallace, the distribution of species and their variations. Liberated by the vast scope of geological time evident in the very landscapes he observed, whether in South America or on coral atolls, Darwin could envision the slow mutability of species. Perhaps, by seeing the whole Earth, he was inspired to see beyond the patient accumulation of detail, to a wider vision of the history of life.
I find it interesting that Darwin’s decision to join the Beagle was very much a last-minute affair, and he had little time to read up and prepare for the regions he would visit. The one place he had already studied extensively and was eagerly anticipating exploring was Tenerife, where at the very beginning of his voyage he was bitterly disappointed to be prevented from landing by a cholera quarantine.
So, should we still find time to read ‘The Voyage’? Undoubtedly yes, in my (not so very) humble opinion. For a start, surprisingly, it’s a rollicking adventure storey. Darwin gets involved with hostile Indians, gets mixed up in a revolution and is even taken prisoner at one time. It’s also worth remembering that this was a naval venture to places being squabbled over by European powers, not to mention local warlords, and the Beagle was expected and able to project British military power into often lawless places, and Darwin’s role as a naturalist was frequently viewed with suspicion, such a profession being largely unknown in those regions at that time.
There are ferocious storms, devastating earthquakes, volcanoes, atrocious weather, impenetrable swamps, jungles and forests, arid deserts and perilous high mountain passes, encounters with wild animals, and with even wilder people. There are hardships and deprivations to be endured and overcome, not to mention all the discomforts of poor food and accommodation including various fleas and biting insects. His shipmates die from accident or disease, although it must be said that, to his credit, Fitzroy brought home far more of his crew alive and uninjured than was usual for the time. All this in the name of science. He ventures far into unexplored places and meets a wider variety of peoples than would be possible today in our homogenised world. His social connections gave him introductions to the powerful and wealthy wherever he went, and he was clearly determined to learn as much as he could from them, but he also spent a lot of time with and was just as interested in observing, people such as the gauchos, who must have seemed wondrously exotic, not to mention risky, to an English gentleman of his class. He was exploring regions at the utmost periphery of ‘civilisation’ and beyond, while doing something incomprehensible to most of their inhabitants, and for that alone, his account of his travels would be worth reading.
Voyage of the Beagle, Title Page
‘The Voyage’ is also an excellent travelogue. Although the text can be a bit long on lists – of waterfowl, for example, necessary reports but tedious reading – Darwin also gives thoughtful and evocative descriptions of the landscapes, flora and fauna, as well as the peoples and their way of life. Sometimes his prose could do with a little editing, and the language is somewhat obscure at times, but Darwin’s love of travelling shines through. ‘The Voyage’ is filled with expressions of wonder and delight. Fitzroy was fortunate in having Darwin as his companion, and you can’t help envying him. Darwin comes over as a thoughtful, cheerful, kind, and engaging person, always ready for whatever came along. Who could wish for a better fellow traveller?
Hide Bridge, Chile
Also, I certainly learnt some geology and zoology from ‘The Voyage’. Not to mention geography and history. And such knowledge can be very useful; for instance, fewer people would have died in the 2001 tsunami that devastated South-East Asia, had they read Darwin’s account of how the sea withdraws prior to the great wave arriving.
Another fascinating, to me at least, aspect of ‘The Voyage’ is realising just how much of our present worldview is a consequence of the permeation of Darwinian evolution into our paradigm. For instance, we assume that species are mutable and change into others, we take it for granted that the distribution of species is the result of migration and not multiple creations of identical species, that all humanity is the same species, etc. etc.
It’s also quite interesting to see what an enlightened Victorian gentleman like Darwin thought important enough to write about. Darwin’s concerns reveal much about attitudes and mores of the time. His vehement abhorrence of slavery surfaces several times. His assumption of British superiority is rather more quaint, but perhaps understandable for a scion of the greatest empire the world had known, and rightfully conscious of the great benefits it had brought. He continually draws an unfavourable comparison between the industry, improvements and developments made by British and Spanish colonists; with the latter always coming off worse, especially when it comes to the treatment of indigenous peoples and slaves. Like any scientific gentleman of his time, Darwin continually looks for improvements from what he would have called ‘the arts’ of agriculture and industry, never doubting the desirability and inevitability of progress.
As a tip to the reader, may I suggest following his progress on a detailed map? Conveniently, where the Beagle doubled back on itself, Darwin often thoughtfully breaks chronological order to keep all the entries for a location in the same section (mostly) so it is easy to follow as a guide, but the actual ground covered by the expedition, with so much to-ing and fro-ing was vastly more than appears on a large scale map.
(The same tip is doubly helpful when reading the other three volumes of King’s & Fitzroy’s accounts.)
So it is well worth reading ‘The Voyage’ for itself, but does it have anything to say about The Theory of Evolution? Well, the second edition (1845) is full of hints about the origin of species and natural selection. Darwin is surprising rude about Lamarck and Agassiz for instance, and several times labours the point about Malthusian pressure and competition. Writing about the Galapagos, he is at pains to point out how the distribution of (often closely related) species among the islands shows the divergence of isolated species. How many of these ideas were added in hindsight I don’t know, but it rather looks as though he revised the text as a prelude to his magnum opus. ‘The Voyage’ achieved considerable sales, and would have made a good vehicle for testing the waters, as it were.
One thing is quite obvious from reading ‘The Voyage’, and that is that, despite his ostensible lack of much formal academic training (he was supposed to be studying medicine or divinity), Darwin had an eclectic and detailed interest in, and knowledge of, natural history. He had put his time at Edinburgh and Cambridge to good use, after all. Through all the different environments he visited, he could recognise and identify just about everything he needed to collect, from minute plankton to fossilised ancient megafauna. He was clearly well acquainted with a huge body of knowledge and quite up to date with the latest research, not only in geology but in botany and zoology, meteorology and palaeontology. This prefigures the vast amount of research and accumulation of detailed facts and examples that would provide such a formidable armoury in the great campaign for evolution by natural selection that was to occupy so much of the rest of life.
So, if it is worth reading ‘The Voyage’, is it worth travelling with? Well, I’d definitely carry a copy on an e-reader, especially if I were covering a lot of ground. Better than reading trashy, ephemeral novels on some dreary tourist beach. There’s something rather inspiring about reading such important, canonical accounts in the place they describe. Personally, the thrill of first reading Wallace’s ‘The Malay Archipelago’ in the old TT Guesthouse in Bangkok while preparing for a trip down the peninsula and beyond, is one which still evokes fond memories, so surely ‘The Voyage’ would do the same? Also, Darwin’s character as a good travelling companion certainly shines through, and that may help the Scientific Tourist through the difficulties and frustrations that travel inevitably brings. When he describes how he belatedly realises that the meal he has just eaten was actually the very southern rhea species he had been desperately seeking to collect a specimen of, it still brings a smile to my face (he was able to salvage some presumably inedible remains of the carcass from the kitchen and the species was nevertheless subsequently named darwinii). Even his sea-sickness and home-sickness provide reassurance; when, at long last, he knows he has reached the furthest extent of his trip, however wonderful and fascinating it had been, and that every step now taken brings him closer towards home, I felt a real sense of shared experience. Much as I love travelling and the joyful excitement of heading outward to new horizons, for me there always comes a moment on extended trips when I feel the need to turn homeward again and think with longing of home and my familiar countryside. So I can feel a deal of empathy when Darwin expresses the same feelings.
At the end of his account, Darwin, having spent five years about it, treats us to his considered meditations on the subject of Scientific Tourism. It will come as no surprise that he is generally very much in favour of it, but he gives this caveat;
‘If a person asked my advice, before undertaking a long voyage, my answer would depend upon his possessing a decided taste for some branch of knowledge, which could by this means be advanced. No doubt it is a high satisfaction to behold various countries and the many races of mankind, but the pleasures gained at the time do not counterbalance the evils. It is necessary to look forward to a harvest, however distant that may be, when some fruit will be reaped, some good effected.’
He goes on,
‘ In conclusion, it appears to me that nothing can be more improving to a young naturalist, than a journey in distant countries.’
And he finishes with what surely must be both good advice and the acknowledged experience of any Scientific Tourist,
‘But I have too deeply enjoyed the voyage, not to recommend any naturalist, although he must not expect to be so fortunate in his companions as I have been, to take all chances, and to start, on travels by land if possible, if otherwise, on a long voyage. He may feel assured, he will meet with no difficulties or dangers, excepting in rare cases, nearly so bad as he beforehand anticipates. In a moral point of view, the effect ought to be, to teach him good-humoured patience, freedom from selfishness, the habit of acting for himself, and of making the best of every occurrence. In short, he ought to partake of the characteristic qualities of most sailors. Travelling ought also to teach him distrust; but at the same time he will discover, how many truly kind-hearted people there are, with whom he never before had, or ever again will have any further communication, who yet are ready to offer him the most disinterested assistance.’
And with that sentiment, Darwin endears himself to me as an exemplar of Scientific Tourism at its very best.
‘The Voyage’ will certainly provide interest and inspiration, not to mention food for thought. And, if I may make a recommendation? I hope that anyone reading ‘The Voyage’ will be inspired to read ‘On The Origin Of Species’ if they have not already done so. It’s not overwhelmingly difficult, but it is a painstakingly thorough examination of the evidence and argument for what has been justifiably claimed as one of, if not the, most important scientific theories of all time. It’s also possibly unique for a primary source of paradigm-shifting importance in that it can be read with profit and comprehension by the layman. Try that with the ‘Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica’ or ‘Die Feldgleichungen der Gravitation’!
Finally, I can’t fail to mention the eponymous ship herself. Launched in 1820 from Woolwich Dockyard (Woolwich Dockyards – Birthplace of HMS Beagle), she was surplus to requirements as a man-o’-war and was converted in 1825 to be a (still armed) survey vessel. She made three major voyages of exploration altogether (the third was an extensive survey of Australia) before being retired rather ignominiously in 1845 as a static coastguard watch-ship on the mudflats and marshes of Essex. There she gradually rotted until she was sold for scrap in 1870, leaving parts of her hull to settle in the mud and be buried.
For any Scientific Tourist venturing to Chile, it’s worth mentioning that a full-size replica of HMS Beagle has been constructed in a museum[1] at Punta Arenas in the Strait of Magellan, a place she visited several times Considering the tiny space where 75 men spent five years aboard fills this Scientific Tourist with a feeling of dread for the total lack any privacy or solitude they must have experienced. Although Darwin had his own workspace in the captain’s cabin, he hung his hammock in a cabin shared with a junior officer; and in the end, he actually spent more time ashore on various expeditions than he did on board.
But it’s interesting to note that after his return to England Darwin developed an almost pathological concern for his privacy and solitude. Once he settled at Down, he almost never spent a night away from home, invariably turning down (or cancelling at the last minute) almost every invitation and opportunity, no matter how attractive or useful it may have been. Rather like the barnacles that he devoted so many years’ work to, which become sessile after their free-swimming larval stage. In fact, he imitated to some extent the almost parasitic males of his balanus barnacles, by the withering-away of his independence in becoming so inseparably attached to his devoted wife Emma, never venturing from her side for the rest of his life and being utterly dependent upon her for his existence. What an unexpected transformation for such an illustrious Scientific Tourist!
N.B. We are very fortunate in having extensive collections of archival materials related to Darwin, including much about the voyages, available online and free at http://darwin-online.org.uk. As well as various editions of Darwin’s more famous works, there is a large collection of other, more scientific/specialised works arising from ‘The Voyage‘. Such as;
‘The Zoology of the Voyage of H.M.S. Beagle’ (19 volumes!),
‘Geology of The Voyage of The Beagle‘ (4 volumes), not forgetting a set of manuals for the Scientific Tourist covering various subjects from how to geologise to how to use a microscope aboard a sailing vessel!
Take a look, you’ll be glad you did.
[1] Sadly, the museum website and that of a blog detailing the reconstruction appear to have lapsed into obscurity, but Wikipedia still maintains an entry for the museum itself, which also has several other replicas of notable vessels involved in the exploration of the region, including Magellan’s Nao Victoria, the only ship of the five originals that set out from Spain to complete the first circumnavigation of the globe, and the James Caird, a tiny boat in which Ernest Shackleton and five others, braving 60ft waves and atrocious weather, made a desperate and heroic voyage across 800 miles of the perilous South Atlantic to seek rescue for the rest of his crew after his ship, the Endurance, was crushed by the Antarctic ice. Punta Arenas is now a port and major jumping-off point for Scientific Tourism voyages to the Antarctic.
Postscript. A couple of years ago there was considerable talk of a film ‘adaptation’ being made by a major studio – unlikely though that premise sounds. It seems that the proposal has been quietly dropped, and I can’t work out whether to be pleased or disappointed.