Travelling to broaden the mind

Today saw the 70th anniversary edition of the classic BBC radio programme Desert Island Discs. For those of you unfamiliar with the programme, each week a different celebrity is asked to nominate the eight records that they would take with them to a desert island. For those of you unfamiliar with records, they were a bit like mp3s, but were made out of atoms rather than bits and sounded a lot better.

The special guest for the 70th anniversary programme was Sir David Attenborough. It was Sir David's fourth appearance on Desert Island Discs. An mp3 of the programme is available here.

At the start of the programme, in response to presenter Kirsty Young's suggestion that it was a staggering thought to realise that he has probably seen more of the world than anybody else who has ever lived, Sir David replied:

Well, I suppose so, but then, on the other hand, it's very salutary to remember that perhaps the greatest naturalist who ever lived and had more effect on our thinking than anybody—Charles Darwin—only spent four years travelling, and the rest of the time thinking.

Darwin's voyage around the world on HMS Beagle was closer to five years than four, but Sir David is right: a few years' ship-time was enough to inspire the greatest naturalist who ever lived (there is no ‘perhaps’ about it, Sir David!).

How many future naturalists and other scientists, I wonder, might gain a lifetime's inspiration from a few months' ship-time aboard a new Beagle?

Charles Darwin and the... Shrewsbury sermons?

American polymath Benjamin Franklin, 10th and youngest son of a working-class family, had to leave school at age 10. Sir Ernest Shackleton was invalided out during his first Antarctic trek; he was later marked for heroism in saving the crew of Endurance. Marie Curie (a.k.a. Maria Sklodowska) was refused entry by Krakow University because she was female, and went on to win Nobel Prizes in two disciplines.

The history of discovery is littered with hard-fought battles just to get on the bus, so to speak. Charles Darwin's story was no exception - his father was dead set against him him traipsing around the world, listing eight objections which included: "Disreputable to [his] character as a Clergyman hereafter... a wild scheme... a useless undertaking."

Those points and influential uncle Josiah Wedgwood's counter-arguments are documented in Cyril Aydon's biography and other easily available sources, and make for engaging reading.

Project advisor Anna Faherty gets up close

This month, however, we got a more intimate look at Darwin's travails, thanks to the Kew Archive, which offered a behind-the-scenes peek at its plant-hunters collection. Darwin's letters ranged from pleading his case and fighting his hammock to cultural observations and storms at sea.

The content is engaging, and the archivists' work is a story in itself. They've collected materials such as correspondence seals - two of which appear to show HMS Beagle - original letters, plant specimens and even an invitation to be a pall-bearer at his Westminster Abbey funeral.

Conservators have also struggled to preserve the artefacts, bathing documents in chemicals to stop the ferrous inks eating through the the paper, and creating folios such as this, with hand-marbled end-papers.

An 1833 letter written aboard HMS Beagle to mentor Rev John Henslow. Note the maximum use of paper. 

The archivists who led Kew's tour were great hosts, and it's clear that classic British plant-hunters have a special place in their hearts - these men (and the odd woman) roamed the planet for the better part of three centuries, and included the likes of Sir Joseph Dalton Hooker, physician, botanist, Antarctic explorer and Kew's second director.

Many of the collectors illustrated their travels beautifully with drawings and photos, and all of them - like Darwin - multi-tasked to secure their places, working as naval surgeons, surveyors, and even spies. Though Darwin's 'day-job' as Captain Robert FitzRoy's companion could be tense and complicated, he would have had more time than many of his peers for naturalist pursuits.

Another common trait was plant-hunters' influence on matters far beyond botany: Darwin's writings on natural selection, ethics and slavery sparked debate that continues today; William Colenso championed Maori rights in New Zealand; and Hooker helped upset international trade by shifting rubber-tree cultivation from Brazil to Southeast Asia.

Not all the plant-hunters - pioneering botanist Carl Linnaeus among them - struggled to be taken seriously, and it must have been tempting for the 22-year-old Darwin to give up - especially when his father said rather unkindly that many others had surely been asked first but refused because of some problem with the ship or journey.

Good thing he persisted. Being a clergyman would have been an honourable enough choice, but we'd definitely be the poorer for it.

The archives at the Royal Botanic Garden, Kew are open to the public, and you can ask to see (or hear) nearly anything in their collection. It's well worth a visit.

The HMS Beagle Project will also be working on a plant-hunters's series of exhibits and talks later this year with new science outreach partner the Garden Museum (this will involve some excellent cakes from their in-house baker ;>). For information, register for updates on our home page.

Sir Joseph Hooker's invitation to Darwin's funeral

Repost: The new Beagle, a flagship for science in a new age of sail

What with new ships being in the news,  I thought I'd repost my 2009 Letter to the Editor of Zoologica Scripta* from 2009.


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SIR – Your Special Issue, ‘In Linnaeus' Wake: 300 Years of Marine Discovery’ (Zoologica Scripta 38: Suppl. 1, February 2009) encompassed both the history of maritime scientific exploration and its enduring legacies. Impressive marine and terrestrial specimen hauls from three centuries of scientific voyaging, largely under sail, underpinned major scientific advances not least Darwin’s theory of evolution by natural selection.

‘Science in the age of sail’ came to a gradual end between the mid-19th and mid-20th centuries, as sails were first combined with and ultimately replaced by coal-fired steam and then diesel engines—an irony considering that the historic specimens collected on such voyages would ultimately be seen as useful to establish pre-industrial baselines for climate change research.

While a changing source of energy for maritime transport signaled the end of the 'sail' in 'science under sail', the 'science' also suffered setbacks. After a brief but intensive period of specimen collecting on diesel powered expeditions (such as the Discovery expeditions), ocean voyages for scientific discovery under all modes of propulsion declined as research funding was diverted to post-war explorations of both outer space and also the inner space of the cell.

Contrary to public perception, expedition-based science did not decline because the task of species discovery was completed: though 1.8 million species have been discovered and named this figure is estimated to represent only 1-10% of the true total. Moreover, marine organisms are under-represented; the diversity of marine life is still largely unknown to science, especially in the deep sea, of which a smaller percentage has been explored than of the surface of the moon. Exacerbating this dearth of marine knowledge are the increasing threats of climate change and habitat loss, coupled with a decline of taxonomic expertise and resources called the ‘taxonomic impediment’.

The need for a new age of discovery science

There is international recognition that the time is ripe for a reinvigoration of expeditionary science, with a particular emphasis on marine environments. The Partnership for Observation of the Global Oceans, (POGO) was created in 1999 “by directors and leaders of major oceanographic institutions around the world to promote global oceanography, particularly the implementation of an international and integrated global ocean observing system” (www.ocean-partners.org). POGO makes a case for extensive and sustained oceanic observation, research and modeling – a case which is echoed in a themed issue of Nature (450; 2007) on “Earth Monitoring” and the accompanying online special, “Earth Observation” (http://tinyurl.com/mvp9bg), which calls for the ‘patching together' of a complete worldview that unites Earth observations from space with ground- and ocean-based exploration and monitoring.

Today, wine; tomorrow, science

Since the aim of a new era of discovery and monitoring is to understand and mitigate the effects of climate change and habitat loss on biodiversity and other complex Earth systems, there is both a real and a symbolic benefit to conducting these explorations a way that minimises environmental damage.

Sail-power is already making a comeback in the cargo industry. After nearly a hundred years of fossil fuel-driven shipping, the first transatlantic voyage to be (once again) augmented by high-tech sail power has just been successfully completed; the so-called SkySail delivered an average fuel savings of 20% on the journey. The use of traditional sailing ships for the movement of goods is also being revived, as marked by the first shipment of Bordeaux wine to Dublin aboard the 170-foot brig Belem in February of this year.

That's very well for wine, but what of science? Though a few private sailing vessels have already been used for modern scientific exploration, such as J. Craig Venter’s Sorcerer II and the Oceanographic Research Vessel Alguita, a symbolic sailing ship to mark the beginning of science in a new age of sail has not yet materialised.

The new Beagle

The HMS Beagle Project (www.thebeagleproject.com) is raising funds to rebuild HMS Beagle to serve as a charismatic flagship for science in a new age of sail. After she is built, the new Beagle will circle the world in Darwin's wake, making similar landfalls. She is not intended to be a museum ship; she will be equipped with modern laboratories and equipment to support a series of researcher-led marine and terrestrial projects as well as continuous collections of samples for DNA barcoding (www.barcoding.si.edu) and metagenomics (Nature Reviews Genetics 6, 805; 2005).

As formally established in a signed International Space Act Agreement with NASA, scientists aboard the new Beagle will collaborate with astronauts aboard the International Space Station on biodiversity and climate change research. Ocean surface water samples for biological assessment will be time-stamped for correlation with images taken from space. These images will enable the visible characteristics of plankton blooms and other biotic phenomena as seen from space to be ground-truthed by real measurements from the ship.

Charles Darwin improvised the first plankton collecting apparatus aboard HMS Beagle in 1832 which he wrote “is a bag four feet deep, made of bunting, & attached to semicircular bow this by lines is kept upright, & dragged behind the vessel. — this evening it brought up a mass of small animals, & tomorrow I look forward to a greater harvest” and, the next day, “I am quite tired having worked all day at the produce of my net. — The number of animals that the net collects is very great & fully explains the manner so many animals of a large size live so far from land. — Many of these creatures so low in the scale of nature are most exquisite in their forms & rich colours. — It creates a feeling of wonder that so much beauty should be apparently created for such little purpose.”

Today, the source of Darwin's wonder is under threat by anthropogenic change. An essential part of diminishing this threat is increasing public awareness and inspiring mitigating action from personal to global scales. Thus the new Beagle’s public engagement and formal learning capacities are equally if not more important than her science capacity.

The attraction of a famous tall ship – even a replica of one – is exemplified by the fact that 300,000 people visited the replica of the Swedish Ship Götheborg (right, towering above yours truly) during her voyage to China, and 2 million visited the exhibition site, with a total media coverage value of €300 million.

The original Götheborg was one of many ships that bore Carl Linnaeus' so-called 'disciples' around the world on their seminal voyages of discovery, and the physicality of climbing aboard the replica Götheborg brings those journeys to life in a way that no written history can.

Just as Linnaeus and his apostles had a double mission to spread the ‘gospel’ of the new botanical principles and collect empirical data so the new Beagle will have a double mission of multi-disciplinary science and inspiring public engagement with – and action to protect – global biodiversity and climate stability.



*Note: This is a longer version of a Letter to the Editor published in Zoologica Scripta in 2009 (doi:10.1111/j.1463-6409.2009.00403.x). As long as I tell you that the 'definitive version' is available here, I am entitled by Wiley-Blackwell 'to use all or part of the article, without revision or modification, in personal compilations or other publications of [my] own work', as I've done here. -KJ

A jubilee ship for the Queen? Why not a Beagle?

Much fluttering in the media dovecotes this week when Education Secretary Michael Gove suggested to Media and Culture Secretary Jeremy Hunt that maybe a grateful nation should buy Her Majesty a new royal yacht to mark her golden jubilee.

The letter was leaked to the Guardian newspaper, leading the Prime Minister to initially hole the suggestion below the waterline. All sailors will know that leaks are bad for ships. Then, following an approach which outlines plans for a 600 foot, four masted multipurpose sailing ship (sail training, scientific research and with state rooms for her Majesty and retinue at the stern), David Cameron has today supported the plans. As long as it doesn't cost the taxpayer.

Might we suggest that we already have a set of plans, funds coming in (another £500 today, thank you), a builder in the blocks ready to start and a ship with a pedigree and some experience in honouring Royalty.

In July 1820 the newly launched HMS Beagle had the honour of being the first ship to sail under the new London Bridge leading a fleet review to mark the coronation of King George IV. Perhaps Her Majesty might find Beagle's stern cabin somewhat cramped, and it would be remiss of us to expect Royalty to indulge in the gymnastics required of the young Charles Darwin in wriggling his way into his hammock for the first time (oh for a time machine to have seen that moment). As Darwin wrote in his diary:

I intend sleeping in my hammock.- I did so last night & experienced the most ludicrous difficulty in getting into it. My fault of jockeyship was in trying to put my legs in first. The hammock being suspended I thus only succeeded in pushing it away without making any progress in inserting my own body.- The correct method is to sit accurately in centre of bed, then give yourself a dexterous twist & your head & feet come into their respective places.

But for a ship to take the nation's youth sail training, to take its scientists over the horizon, whose building would add excitement to the Olympic year and that of the Queen's Golden Jubilee?

It could only be our very own Beagle. She changed the world. Nothing less would add lustre to 2012.

To find out more, contact us or follow the discussion on Facebook.  To donate to the new Beagle or to talk to us about sponsorship, please click here.

"Sorely tried" on the first leg of the voyage

Guest post by Beagle archivist, writer and editor Dr Gordon Chancellor

The voyage around the world of HMS Beagle was finally under way, this time 180 years ago in January 1832. She was sailing briskly in as southerly a course as possible, heading for Madeira where Captain FitzRoy intended to check the longitude. On board the little 235-ton survey ship were 74 men, plus three Fuegian Indians, the young naturalist Charles Darwin and a few personal servants and all their provisions for crossing the Atlantic to Brazil.

By 13 January they had already crossed the Bay of Biscay where Darwin had suffered terribly from sea sickness. He had been forced to lie down much of the time but this gave him a chance to re-read Alexander Humboldt’s Personal Narrative. That book had fired Darwin’s imagination as a student the year before with its classic descriptions of the Canaries and had convinced him that he needed to explore the tropics himself. He had even starting to plan his own expedition, but this was of course completely ‘knocked on the head’ by the offer of the place on the Beagle.

Around 4 January the voyage had reached Madeira but the swell prevented their landing and FitzRoy decided to press on for Tenerife in the Canaries, which they made on 6 January. Here Darwin suffered what FitzRoy called ‘a real calamity’; a quarantine meant a wait of 12 days before landing. FitzRoy not being a man to twiddle his thumbs, once more gave the order to press on. Darwin was bereft, having longed to see nature as Humboldt had so beautifully described it.

On that day Darwin did, however, do something which in many ways now seems more important for the history of science: he opened his ‘zoological diary’ (published by his great-grandson Richard Keynes in 2000). Apart from his geological training in Wales and near his Shropshire home, this was Darwin’s first ever chance to make new discoveries. His first short entry that day described the way the sea water gave off ‘sparks’ at night.

The Beagle crossed the Tropic of Cancer on 10 January and the weather was beautiful. Darwin constructed a net to catch marine life and started to describe and draw anything unusual. He also started to collect ‘specimens in spirits of wine’, each with its own unique number stamped onto a tin tag and his notes rapidly became more professional-looking.

I have chosen 13 January for this blog post because exactly one year later in 1833 the voyage of the Beagle was very nearly aborted forever by a terrible storm. That was the moment off Tierra del Fuego immortalised by FitzRoy’s account of how the Beagle was ‘sorely tried’ by a giant wave. This tore away one of the precious ship’s boats and nearly sent the Beagle and all who sailed in her to the bottom. My father John Chancellor painted the scene in 1982, not long before his untimely death, as I described in the special Darwin issue of ‘The Linnean’ in 2009. It is sobering to reflect that if the little ship had sunk that day the wonderful Beagle Project would not be happening and every one of us would be the poorer.

New Beagle Project podcast

After something of a hiatus (ahem!), we have just published a new HMS Beagle Project podcast on the Beagle Channel.

David Lort-Phillips, co-founder and Executive Committee member of the HMS Beagle Project, talks about his relative, Admiral John Lort-Stokes, the last captain of HMS Beagle. The interview with BBC Radio Wales's Jamie Owen was recorded on 01-Aug-2011.

David-Lort-Phillips-Interview-2011-08-01.mp3 (9.9 kB).

Finally!

In his final "Setting sail" post, maritime historian and HMS Beagle expert Dr Gordon Chancellor marks the day in 1831 when FitzRoy and Darwin left England behind...

In our last post we left the HMS Beagle on Christmas Day, stuck in Plymouth by south-westerly gales. 26 December in contrast was ‘a beautiful day,’ and Captain FitzRoy’s Narrative indicates that there was ‘a dead calm’ with every prospect that soon there would be a breeze from the east. The whole day was wasted, however, because so many of the crew were in irons for getting plastered the day before!

FitzRoy’s easterly duly arrived 180 years ago, on 27 December 1831, and he resolved to strike south for Madeira. Darwin ‘took a farewell luncheon’ of mutton and champagne ashore with Sullivan. The two friends boarded at about 2pm ‘and immediately with every sail filled by a light breeze, we scudded away’ from England.

So, after months of preparations and false starts, one of the most important voyages of all time was under way. As FitzRoy so truly said, the voyage ‘though likely to be long, promised much that would interest, and excite, and perhaps reward....’

Merry Christmas!

This festive take on Darwin's sketch - the Phylogenetic [Christmas] Tree - and other interesting musings about the natural world, astronomy and ideas generally can be found atAllison Banks's blog, look up - we encourage you to visit her, and hope she'll bring her creative view of science to bear on future HMS Beagle Project endeavours.

In the meantime, best of the holiday to you and yours, and here's to getting the new Beagle's keel laid in 2012!

An unpromising first Christmas aboard

Our third guest post from Dr Gordon Chancellor gives a snapshot of Darwin's first Christmas aboard HMS Beagle - anxious to get under way, suffering foul weather... and having far less fun than the crew, though the latter would pay dearly for their celebrations.

My last post saw HMS Beagle 180 years ago waiting what must have seemed an eternity for a north-easterly to carry her out of Plymouth and start her voyage around the world.

Slashing rain on 22 December added to Darwin’s misery, but on the 23^rd he had some fun with shipmates Sullivan and Bynoe, pitting his marksmanship against theirs to see who would be buying the drinks in Madeira. That evening, he endured a ‘bad concert’ in town with Stokes.

Christmas Eve was 'a blank and idle day', but Christmas Day was better for Darwin, as he found an old Cambridge friend leading the church service he attended. Darwin dined with the officers that afternoon, but didn't enjoy the conversation which, in such formal circumstances, was 'entirely devoid of interest.'

Not such a great time for our young naturalist then, but the crew all got drunk, that 'sole and never failing pleasure to which a sailor always looks forward'!

Fuegians and false starts on the run-up to Christmas

Here's the second in a series of guest posts by archivist and historian Dr Gordon Chancellor, who has spent 30 years getting to know the HMS Beagle...

16 December 1831 was the first day Darwin spent entirely on the Beagle. He was daily writing his ‘journal’ for the voyage around the world of HMS Beagle, even though the little ship was still anchored in Plymouth waiting for a north-easterly breeze to take her south towards Madeira.

That day Darwin decided to write a preface, in which he recounted the months before his daily entries began on 24 October. He especially looked back to two ‘very anxious and uncomfortable days’ at the end of August when, having been offered the place on the Beagle, he had had to turn it down because his father had not approved it. Poor Darwin had been desperate to go and we have his uncle Josiah Wedgwood to thank for changing Darwin’s father’s mind and letting the young naturalist go.

Darwin had gone immediately to stay in Cambridge with his mentor John Henslow for a few days, before seeing the Beagle, then returning home to Shrewsbury for the last time. From there he was in London for three weeks, then arrived aboard the survey ship on 24 October. He spent the next month or so learning about longitudes and dipping needles, as well as doing some geology in limestone quarries and on the granite tors of Dartmoor.

The Fuegian Indians were on board by mid-November [!], and the superb ship’s library was stocked within Darwin’s easy reach - once he had learnt how to get into his hammock. HMS Beagle sailed on 10 December and Darwin’s brother Erasmus made his farewells, but she was driven back by storms.

On the 11^th, the date before the first of these posts, Darwin reflected that though he had been right to accept the position on the Beagle, he doubted ‘how far it will add to the happiness of one’s life’. On the 12^th he set out his agenda for the voyage, the number one priority being to collect, observe and read ‘in all branches of Natural history that I possibly can manage.’

A suitable breeze followed the Beagle from her moorings on 20 December and Darwin retreated to his hammock for the night to escape sea-sickness. A gale brewing off the Lizard had, however, forced her back again to Plymouth on the 21st, where she was anchored this day, exactly 180 years ago.

Get the inside story on Beagle happenings

Our first official e-bulletin goes out today to folks who've registered for updates at the HMS Beagle Project homepage.

If you'd like to get the latest news on ships, trips, and ways to participate, by all means sign on! We won't bombard you, and it's easy to subscribe or unsubscribe.

A little Beagle for Christmas?

From the shameless commerce department:

Just a quick note to say that if you're stuck for gift-giving ideas and want to support the HMS Beagle Project, you can still order a gift through our Café Press shop this weekend and have it arrive in time for Christmas - or for the Dec 27th anniversary of the second voyage.

A portion of proceeds goes to our project work, and the shirts, mugs, totes etc are quite nice. I've got the 'Charles Darwin signature' field bag, and have had compliments. On the bag...

Guest post by Captain Skellett: Future floating laboratory, prospectus of the HMS Beagle Project

This is a guest post by Aussie pirate scientist blogger extraordinaire Captain Skellet. Her introductory post can be found here.

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Yesterday afternoon I went to a prospectus to the HMS Beagle Project while founder David Lort Phillips is in Adelaide.

It’s a CRAZY exciting project which plans to build a modern version of Darwin and FitzRoy’s tall ship the HMS Beagle, kitted out as a floating laboratory.

Marine biologists could benefit from getting much-needed ship time. As it’s a tall ship, it can get closer to land than large cruise vessels, giving it an extra bonus to people studying tidal areas. Groups into DNA barcoding might find it useful too, as it can be tricky to get high quality samples for DNA testing - most are set in formalin which ruins the info. More on DNA barcoding soon.

Climate research can be done from the boat, the connection between biodiversity and climate change could be exploited in the project. There’s a collaboration of the HMS Beagle with NASA, combining observations from space with water samples in the ocean.

Space shuttle before docking with space station.
Image by NASA

In 2009 the Brazilian tall ship Tocorime with the International Space Station, and they ran live hook-ups between scientists on the boat, an astronaut above, and school children in Paraty. Looks like Keven Zelnio from Deep Sea News was there! The students had questions written in English on paper which they screwed into a sweaty ball with excitement, according to Karen James, involved with the HMS Beagle Project.

Most interesting for me is the prospect of science communication on the high seas. We can take high-tech science to ports around the world, including remote areas that often miss out on science engagement events.

I’d like to see the online aspect of the beagle able to webcast and tweet from the deck, setting up chat sessions with classrooms and the public. Maybe people could watch the Beagle’s progress through the ocean, and be updated with the science we on the way. Oh, I gots ideas!

At the moment they have blueprints and some collaborations sorted out, but are still looking for funding to get it built and in the water. The first five years it would retrace the first voyage of the Beagle, including along the South American coast.

Chile are planning to build their own ship in connection to the project, possibly named after the Beagle support ship, the Adventure.

Darwin was 22 when he signed on with the Beagle, an amateur with an interest in science – mainly geology. What he saw from the ship and at port, particularly in the Galapagos Islands, lead him to a world-changing hypothesis.

Maybe the new Beagle will have the same effect on some young scientists. Good heavens, I just really hope they build this tall ship, and when they do, that I'm on it helping to share their discoveries online, in ports, worldwide.

This blog post first appeared on A Schooner of Science.

In the news...

The Beagle Project has been (like the Beagle 160-odd years ago) in Australia. We made the news.

More on Antipodean developments later.

New guest blogger: Captain Skellett

This is the first of what we hope will be several guest posts by Aussie pirate scientist blogger extraordinaire Captain Skellet, who came to our attention in Adelaide two weeks ago during our visit there (more about that shortly).

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Ahoy! Call me Captain Skellett. I’ve been running yonder blog, A Schooner of Science, for two and a half years. My interests include science, sailing and long walks on the beach with a compass and treasure map.

It’s exciting to be invited to guest post on the HMS Beagle Project blog, the greatest nautical science venture (adventure!) that I’ve heard tale of. Just the thought of a tall-ship following the voyage of Darwin, brimming with science reaching ports remote… well it gives me tingles!

We pirates are generalists by trade, so I write about anything that catches my fancy. My background in chemistry, biochemistry, molecular and drug design doesn’t stop me blogging on robots, stars and such suchness. Science art is particularly close to my heart. Here at the Beagle, I’ll keep it to topics that tie into the project, like the deep sea and evolution.

For those so inclined to follow, find me @CaptainSkellett on Twittarrr and on the book of faces. And so, me hearties, join me for a journey of guest posts on this here HMS Beagle Project blog.

About to set sail...

Got a reminder this morning from palaeontologist, maritime historian and HMS Beagle aficionado Dr Gordon Chancellor, asking if we were going to mark the 180th anniversary of HMS Beagle's second voyage. He then kindly offered up the vignette below:

Monday December 12^th 2011 is a good date on which to recall that exactly 180 years ago a certain HMS Beagle was lying off Plymouth, waiting for a favourable wind to set off round the world.

On board was a twenty-two year old naturalist who had finished his Cambridge degree that summer. His name was Charles Darwin and he had started to keep a journal of his expedition for his family to read in instalments.

He wrote, once ‘snug and quiet’ back in his small berth in the poop cabin, that there was a heavy swell that day and that he feared sea-sickness. He had been ashore and dined with Sir Manley Dixon, returning to the mother ship after a ‘long and rough pull’, presumably in the dark. Darwin’s day ended at eight bells (midnight) as he turned into his hammock.

More to come...

Beagle Project parish notices

The blog has been languishing of late, languishing in a most unseamanlike fashion and that will never do. I have been on paternity leave and turbo-blogger Dr Karen James has very sadly for this Isle been brain drained back to the USA. It's time to play catch up, but it will take a while.

Great Beagle Project things have happened in South America and I will be trying to get a full report from the Beagle People concerned to post here.

In the meantime stalwart friend of the Project Friends of Charles Darwin is now on Google+. Go and give him some BP bloglove.

And science with a smile returns to Radio 4 with a new series of The Infinite Monkey Cage hosted by Mediagenic Manc Pop Particle Sci God Brian Cox. Appointment to listen radio. 4.30 pm, R4 today.