The Shining Sea (27 page)

Porter was celebrating more than the national holiday. He was also celebrating the incredible success they had had against the British whale fishery. He was so enthusiastic about their achievements that his horizon broadened, and he changed his mind about remaining on the hunt along the coasts of Peru and Chile. Instead of doing that, he contemplated sailing his whole fleet to Polynesia. His dreams of going there were of long standing. He had mentioned them to the crew before, while they were in the Atlantic standing toward Cape Horn. He had no idea at the time if what he promised would ever come to pass, but now there was every reason to believe that he could finally do what he had been fantasizing about all these years.

To begin with, he decided to divide his fleet and send Downes to Valparaiso while he went back to the Galapagos Islands. He anticipated that Downes would join him there a short time later. More importantly, Porter decided that, after he and Downes met up again, his fleet would travel to the Marquesas Islands, the archipelago in Polynesia. There they would experience the legendary delights offered by the women of these exotic islands.
Porter also thought that, while enjoying the extraordinary female companionship, he could make necessary repairs on the ships, particularly the
Essex
.

Four days later, Downes departed for Valparaiso. The prize ships
Hector, Catharine, Policy
, and
Montezuma
accompanied him, along with the
Barclay
. Porter instructed Downes to leave the
Barclay
at Valparaiso and sell the other ships, if possible. The
Policy
was loaded with sperm oil. The oil from all the ships had been divided between the
Policy
and the
Georgiana
. Prices for oil at Valparaiso were so low, however, that Porter gave Downes the option of sending
Policy
to the United States, where the oil would bring a much higher price. If she went to America, she was to approach the northern coast in the dead of winter, when severe weather impeded the British blockade.

While Downes was in Valparaiso, Porter expected him to obtain the latest intelligence on any British warships hunting the
Essex
. Porter was certain there would be at least one, and more likely two or more.
Porter also gave Downes three letters addressed to Secretary of the Navy Paul Hamilton, dated July 2, 1813. Downes was to give them to Joel Poinsett for transmittal to Washington. Poinsett would undoubtedly do his best to get them there any way he could, by land or sea via Thomas Sumter in Rio, but how long it would take, or even if they would get there at all, was uncertain. Porter had no way of knowing that Hamilton was no longer in charge of the Navy Department. President Madison had finally asked for his resignation in December 1812, replacing him with William Jones of Philadelphia, a respected merchant and banker with a long record of accomplishment.

Porter knew that Washington would be wondering what had happened to him. He had no idea if his brief letter to Bainbridge in March had reached its destination. He also wanted his wife and family to know that he and Farragut were faring well. And he was proud of his accomplishments; he wanted the navy and, he hoped, the whole country to know about them. He told the secretary of the navy,

Indeed sir, when I compare my present situation with what it was when I doubled Cape Horn I cannot but esteem myself fortunate in an extraordinary degree—then my ship was shattered by tempestuous weather and destitute of everything, my officers and crew half starved, naked and worn
out with fatigue—Now sir, my ship is in prime order abundantly supplied with everything necessary for her. I have a noble ship for a consort of twenty-guns and well-manned, a store ship of twenty guns well supplied with everything we may want, and prizes which would be worth in England two million dollars, and what renders the comparison more pleasing, the enemy has furnished all——.

Porter also wanted the navy to know how well Lieutenant John Downes was performing. In a separate letter to the secretary of the navy, Porter wrote, “If any officer deserves in an extraordinary degree the attention of the department Lt. Downes certainly does.”

The letters reached Secretary Jones in December 1813, and they caused a sensation. News about Porter and the
Essex
had been scarce since they left. Reports popped up from time to time, always mixing accurate and inaccurate information, but there had been nothing official. The nation wanted to know what had happened to Porter. Now there was confirmation that he and the
Essex
were not only in the Pacific, as had been suspected, but they were doing brilliantly.

No one was happier with Porter's report than President Madison, who needed cheering up. The war was going poorly for the United States in 1813. The president had renewed his attack on Canada without success, except for the victories of Oliver Hazard Perry on Lake Erie on September 10, 1813, and of William Henry Harrison and Perry at the Battle of the Thames in Lower Canada a short time later. Moreover, Great Britain and her allies had defeated Napoleon decisively at the Battle of Leipzig, throwing him back into France, where his days were numbered. The British would soon be able to turn their whole military might against the United States. From Madison's point of view the future looked bleak. Defeatism was spreading across the country. He was in desperate need of good news—and of heroes. Porter supplied both.
The president immediately released Porter's report, and newspapers around the country printed it, boosting morale everywhere.

Secretary Jones lost no time passing the report on to Evelina Porter. She had been writing to him, inquiring about her husband, but he had had nothing to tell her. Now he did. On December 14, 1813, he sent a message to Green Bank:

I have the pleasure to enclose a letter this day received under cover of a very interesting and highly satisfactory dispatch from Captain Porter, dated July 2 last near the Equator on the west coast of South America.

Himself, officers and crew were in [an excellent] degree of health and spirits, abundantly provided with everything necessary for their comfort for eight months in advance, and their success had equaled the most sanguine expectations.

Evelina was filled with joy and relief. He was safe, and more than that, a hero—what he had always strived for. Of course, David wasn't home yet, but, even so, this was wonderful news, considering all the horrible things she feared might have happened to him.

C
ARRYING
P
ORTER'S LETTERS TO THE NAVY SECRETARY,
D
OWNES
and his fleet set off for Valparaiso on July 8. One of the fleet now had a noteworthy new skipper. In one of his stranger decisions, Porter had given his “de facto son,” David Farragut, now age twelve, command of the
Barclay
for her trip to Valparaiso. And to make the assignment even more bizarre, Captain Gideon Randall and his chief mate were left on board to navigate. Porter doesn't mention this unusual arrangement in his journal—as if it were inconsequential. For Farragut, however, it was the major event of his young life. Randall was a fiercely independent old cuss, who wanted his ship back so that he could resume whaling. Instead, he was ordered to navigate the
Barclay
to Valparaiso, and submit to the orders of a twelve-year-old. He was understandably furious, and from the beginning of the voyage he made it plain that he was determined to take back his ship.

As soon as the
Barclay
separated from the
Essex
and stood south with Downes's convoy, Randall made his move. He shouted at Farragut in a voice that was heard throughout the ship, “You'll find yourself off New Zealand in the morning.”

At that moment, Farragut recalled,

we were lying still while the other ships were fast disappearing from view; the Commodore going north, and the
Essex Junior
, with her convoy, steering south for Valparaiso. I considered that my day of trial had arrived (for I was a little afraid of the old fellow, as everyone else
was). But the time had come for me, at least, to play the man; so I mustered up courage and informed the captain that I desired the main topsail filled away, in order that we might close up with the
Essex Junior
. He replied that he would shoot any man who dared to touch a rope without his orders, he “would go his own course,” he shouted, “and had no idea of trusting himself with a damned nutshell,” and then he went below for his pistols.

While Randall stomped away, Farragut summoned his “right-hand man of the crew” and explained the situation. He then ordered him in a loud voice to “fill the main topsail.”

“Aye, aye, sir!” Farragut's man shouted. The message to the rest of the crew was clear: Farragut was in charge.

“From that moment I became master of the vessel,” Farragut wrote, “and immediately gave all necessary orders for making sail.”

Farragut warned Randall that if he came on deck with his pistols he would have him thrown overboard. Farragut felt that he “would have had very little trouble in having such an order obeyed.” That ended the matter. When Farragut, with Randall in tow, made a report of the incident to Downes, he got firm support. Chastened, Randall pretended that he had not meant what he said. He told Downes that he was only trying to frighten Farragut. Randall and the young skipper then returned to the
Barclay
and “everything went on amicably,” Farragut recalled.

While Downes was leading his squadron to Valparaiso, Porter shaped a course back to the Galapagos in search of British whalers. He had been told that three were fishing there and that they were armed and looking for the
Essex
. Porter hoped they were. He did not intend to tarry long in the Galapagos searching for the whalers, however. If he found them right away, fine; but if not, he intended to sail on to the little-frequented Marquesas Islands. The storeship
Greenwich
and the
Georgiana
remained with the
Essex
. When the time was right, Porter intended to send the
Georgiana
to the United States to sell her cargo of sperm oil. He planned to time her departure so that she would have a good chance of arriving along the northeast coast in the dead of winter.

With the prevailing winds and current carrying the
Essex,
Porter easily raised Charles Island on July 12. Recent volcanic eruptions had changed
the face of the island, as they had Albemarle and Narborough. The first thing Porter did was send a boat to Hathaway's Post Office, where he found evidence that one British ship, at least, had been there recently. He left a note for Downes and buried it in a bottle at the foot of the post office and then sailed for Albemarle, arriving in Banks Bay at midnight, where he dropped his hook. At daylight he steered to the northward, and at eleven o'clock lookouts caught sight of three large vessels, sailing some distance apart from each other. Porter was ready. He raced after the one in the center, while the others, instead of coming to her aid, fled, or appeared to. That did not surprise him, but he worried that one or both might attempt to take the
Greenwich
and
Georgiana
, who were trailing a considerable distance behind the
Essex
. As he raced toward his prey, one of the strangers did tack to windward of the
Essex
and steer toward the prizes. The
Greenwich
was alert to the danger and hove to, waiting for the
Georgiana
to come up. When the two met, the
Greenwich
took some men from the
Georgiana
and raced after the vessel that was supposedly in pursuit, while the
Georgiana
ran for the
Essex
.

Porter made quick work of the vessel he was chasing—the
Charlton
, a 10-gun English whaler. He then sped after the
Greenwich
, which was now in a gunfight with the ship she had been chasing—the 14-gun
Seringapatam
, a far stronger opponent than the
Charlton
. The
Seringapatam
had a crew of forty and was a fine warship, built for that purpose and converted to a whaler. Her captain had no intention of doing any fishing; he was out to capture American whalers. With the
Essex
gaining ground, the British ship pretended to strike her colors, but then tried to steal away, hoping that darkness would cover her. The
Greenwich
kept after her, however, and with the
Essex
now having come up, the
Seringapatam
was forced to surrender. Immediately, Porter flew after the third vessel and caught her in an hour as darkness was approaching. She turned out to be the
New Zealander
of eight guns.

The
Seringapatam
's captain, William Stavers, had no papers proving he had a privateer's commission from his government authorizing him to seize enemy vessels. If he could not produce one, he was legally a pirate and could be brought to an admiralty court, convicted, and hung. Porter considered him an outlaw. Unlike his handling of the other enemy skippers, he put Stavers in irons. This did not apply to his crew, however.
They received excellent treatment. In doing so, Porter was returning a favor. He had learned that earlier, when Stavers had captured an American whaler, he had treated her crew well—unlike other British captains. Putting Stavers in irons after he had been so decent to the American whalers might seem like an odd decision, but Porter considered him an able leader, and did not want him leading a prisoner uprising.

The number of prisoners had become a problem. On July 19 Porter dispatched the slow-sailing
Charlton
to Rio under her captain with forty-eight prisoners on parole. The British tars were quick to protest, however; they wanted no part of Rio, where they stood a good chance of being pressed into a man-of-war. Every one of them volunteered for the American service, but Porter, although sympathetic, had enough men, and reluctantly forced them to go.