What a fascinating read! For some years it has been my understanding that Bligh was not the sadistic monster portrayed by Hollywood, but it seems rather remarkable that a simple examination of the historical evidence paints a picture so at odds with what has been commonly accepted for two hundred years.
Lieutenant William Bligh served as the sailing master on Captain Cook third (and final) voyage to the Pacific. Cook was justly famous for his enlightened policies on preserving the health and well-being of his crew, and Bligh obviously took these lessons to heart. When he embarked upon his own ill-fated journey to Tahiti as commander of HMAV Bounty, he did so with every intention of arriving safely with a shipload of healthy, contented men. To this end, Bligh advocated a diet far more in line with actual nutritional requirements than the standard Jack Tar’s accustomed fare, particularly towards the prevention of scurvy. He worked to ensure that the ship was as clean as possible from stem to stern to provide a more healthful environment. He included a nearly blind fiddler amongst his crew, demonstrating that he was willing to sacrifice the valuable services of a more capable mariner purely in the interests of boosting morale. Dancing was a nightly activity whenever wind and weather permitted. As to discipline, Bligh was, for his day, remarkably lenient. He typically employed flogging only as a last measure, and meted out a fraction of the lashes that one would expect to find on a standard, well-run naval vessel of the age. In fact, of the many charges levied against his name in the more than 200 years since the breadfruit expedition, the only ones that seem to have any degree of justification are that Bligh possessed a quick temper and a sharp tongue.
While not quite the hagiography one might assume from my summary, Caroline Alexander’s The Bounty brings to light a great deal of information that may serve to resurrect the reputation of a man whose 3,600 mile, 48 day ordeal still stands as one of the greatest feats of seamanship in recorded history.
Good book you mentioned. For further insights into the real Bligh and Christian, I would also recommend Captain Bligh and Mr. Christian. The 1930s movie with Laughton and Gable was way, way off, yet people cling to it as if it were gospel truth. (Even the residents of Pitcairn Island do this, according to a book by Dea Birkoff whose title I can’t recall right now.)
The Bounty released in 1984 with Gibson and Hopkins was more accurate.
I loved the book and greatly enjoyed all the detail given about the mutiny, the voyage in the open boat, the hunt for the mutineers and the trial. I had no idea the story was so involved and prolonged. That the mutineers chief complaint against Bligh was that he spoke to them harshly is just amazing.
I started a thread a couple of weeks ago asking for the origin and meaning of the phrase “damn your eyes.” My reason for posting the question had much to do with my failure to understand how language that, to my ears at least, sounds so innocuous could possibly have such a devastating effect on a seasoned sailor. For it seems to be the infamous “coconut incident” that proved too much for Fletcher Christian to bear.
I just asked for this book as my birthday present. I have not looked forward to a birthday this much since I was about seven. Thanks.
What I do know is that my own personal hero, Luis Marden, found the remains of the Bounty at Pitcairn Island and proved that it was where the mutineers had ended up.
Some day you must get me drunk and make me tell Luis stories. A great gentleman adventurer.
James Michener, in his book Rascals in Paradise, has a segment on Bligh titled “Bligh, Man of Mutinies.” It’s where I first learned Bligh was not the monster as portrayed by Laughton, and Fletcher Christian was certainly not the noble figure portrayed by Clark Gable. The section goes on to tell about more of Bligh’s career after the Bounty mutiny.
Also, I think hearing something like “damn your eyes” from someone who had once been a close friend would be too much for certain individuals. Just a thought.
Be that as it may, it did do a fine public service by presenting Bligh as a flawed hero and Christian as a weak-willed villain, subverting the Nordhoff/Hall cartoon story that had become the accepted version.
I don’t know that the Nordhoff/Hall version was all that cartoonish; I think that it was made into a cartoon by the 1930’s movie. The (fictionalized) Nordhoff/Hall narrator wanted to remain with Bligh and expresses little sympathy for Christian.
In an era when “gentlemen” took to the dueling ground over the slightest infringement of their personal honor, this was all too common. Bligh’s problem wasn’t that he abused the ordinary seamen (as you note in your OP, he didn’t), but that he talked smack to his gentleman officers. When one of them rebelled (foolishly and to the ruin of all concerned, as Nordhoff and Hall make clear), the common seamen joined in out of normal contrariness and in the mistaken belief that they’d be able to resume a life of ease on Tahiti.
An excellent point, and nicely put. Citing various first-hand sources, Caroline Alexander makes the case that Fletcher Christian was the only one on the ship who could have led a mutiny. Morale was fairly low amongst the crew, but it had more to do with facing a grueling year-long sea voyage after spending several months at an unspotted island paradise teeming with beautiful half-naked women than with any particular tyranny on Bligh’s part. As the men, by and large, were not truly disaffected, only a charismatic leader could have induced them to take such a desperate step. Christian was the most popular man on the ship, and even several among the ship’s company who had suffered greatly in the wake of the mutiny continued to hold him in high esteem. Furthermore, Fletcher Christian, while not wealthy, was a gentleman, and enjoyed de facto officer’s status when he was actually on the books as a master’s mate. To the status conscious English crew, nothing less would have been suitable.
The 1984 version also did a fine public service by featuring many scenes with topless Polynesian hotties, a rare treat for your humble correspondent in those pre-Interweb days.
When I was about 10, my best friend gave me a little snap-together plastic model of the Bounty. I knew nothing of the history and did a pathetic job of piecing the thing together. The movie came out a couple of years later, and though the model was long gone, I went to see it because I wanted to find out the story. That was an eye-opening experience, let me tell you.
At risk of hijacking my own thread, the 1984 movie is one of my favorites – not only because it’s extremely well done, but because the cast is astounding. I can think of few other films that feature so damned many actors who were unknowns at the time (or just at the edge of stardom) but are current A or B list stars. Anthony Hopkins, Mel Gibson, Daniel Day-Lewis, Liam Neeson, Bernard Hill, and John Sessions.
