Darwin's nose
It was his nose that led Charles Darwin to the Galapagos
Islands on the second voyage of HMS
Beagle, a survey ship captained by Robert FitzRoy. FitzRoy was a
well-respected naval officer with a surname to match - George V considered it
for the British royal family when changing the name from Saxe-Coburg-Gotha in
1917.
FitzRoy believed facial features echoed a person’s
characteristics, and thought Darwin’s nose let him down. He came close to
barring the naturalist from the 1831 voyage, a trip that would further conceive
Darwin’s thoughts on evolution.
The voyage saw Beagle
brush past the islands of West Africa before circumnavigating almost the entire
South American landmass across the stormy southern oceans. Darwin was only 22
as he scurried about the South American coastline dissecting earthworms and
barnacles. At the same time, FitzRoy and his crew were busy recording
hydrographical information for the Admiralty back in London, making
measurements and taking samples along the way.
A stop-off in New Zealand
The ship’s return trip to England saw it crossing the
Pacific Ocean to New Zealand. Beagle
harboured in New Zealand’s Bay of Islands for 10 days. FitzRoy and Darwin went
ashore at Paihia, now the Bay of Islands’ main tourist town. After so long away
from home Darwin was pleased to find English flowers around the town, but soon
found the countryside irritatingly impracticable for exploration. Much of the
native vegetation of ferns has since been cleared. The rocky outcrops,
waterways and hills that annoyed Darwin so much are now a major pull for tourists,
as is the continued Englishness of Paihia. My lunch when there was a portion of
fish and chips so fresh I burnt my mouth numerous times.
Paihia, New Zealand
Beagle continued
to Sydney and on to Cape Town, before returning home. But New Zealand would
feature further in FitzRoy’s career. He was appointed the second governor of
the islands from December 1843 until 1845, juggling Maori and European demands
in the aftermath of the Treaty of Waitangi signed three years earlier. Waitangi
is a pleasant 30 minute walk from Paihia, where FitzRoy had landed with Beagle. The path leads north along the
coastal road and over the wooden Waitangi River bridge. Beyond a shipwreck
museum-cum-coffee shop are the Waitangi National Trust grounds. As well as the
Treaty House, the grounds contain the centennial celebration whare runanga (meeting house), and the
35 metre long ngatokimatawhaorua waka.
The war canoe is launched annually to mark the signing of the Treaty of
Waitangi, the foundation document of New Zealand statehood.
Waitangi Treaty House, Waitangi, New Zealand
Inventing the weather
Returning to Britain in 1845 FitzRoy’s difficult
governorship of the islands didn’t prevent him taking up several further senior
positions within the British establishment. It was then that FitzRoy founded
the forerunner to today’s Meteorological Office and instigated the first
weather forecasting system.
Despite his varying successes FitzRoy’s story ends less than
happily. FitzRoy committed suicide, having spent his entire fortune, much of it
on philanthropic activities. While Darwin was buried in Westminster Abbey beside
Isaac Newton, FitzRoy was interned in the grounds of All Saints Church, Upper
Norwood, South London.
I had rather hoped for a stormy day when I visited FitzRoy’s
grave so I could liken it to the weather he would have encountered on the tip
of South American continent with Beagle.
Instead, all I could muster up was some heavy on-off drizzle that managed to
soak me. The grave lies opposite an ugly block of flats, seemingly forgotten by
everyone except the Meteorological Office. The organisation renovated his grave
in 1981, attaching the following quote from the book of Ecclesiastes at its
foot:
“The wind goeth toward
the south, and turneth about into the north, it turneth about continually, and
the wind returneth again, according to his circuits.”
It’s almost a metaphor for FitzRoy’s life itself.
FitzRoy's grave, south London, 2012