Sea of Glory

1. Wilkes's Early Ambition and Self-Taught Mastery

“I had indulged in the idea of procuring distinction and a craving after the excitement and scenes which such an enterprise would offer.”

Formative years. Charles Wilkes, born in 1798, endured a difficult childhood marked by his mother's early death and being sent to boarding school at age four, leaving him feeling like "a poor castaway boy." This early sense of abandonment fueled a lifelong craving for praise and adulation, which he sought through naval distinction. Despite his father's wishes for him to become a businessman, the sea captivated young Charles, offering an escape into "an exotic dream of adventure, freedom, opportunity, and risk."

Self-made navigator. Denied a midshipman's warrant due to an overloaded navy, Wilkes embarked on merchant voyages, where he quickly proved his exceptional aptitude for navigation. He taught himself complex lunar calculations and, astonishingly, once guided a ship to port using a chart he sketched from memory after the captain admitted to forgetting his own. This early success instilled in him a belief that "book-learning, at least his version of book-learning, was more than a match for anyone else’s practical experience."

Mentorship and arrogance. Wilkes eventually secured a naval appointment and found a mentor in the irascible geodesist Ferdinand Hassler, who instilled in him an uncompromising arrogance. Wilkes's scholarly, aloof, and condescending nature, though ill-suited for a life at sea, was paradoxically reinforced by his early experiences. He learned that adversity could strengthen his resolve, leading him to believe that his unique character, despite its flaws, was destined for greatness.

2. The Expedition's Tumultuous Birth and Wilkes's Ascent

“I told him that all I wanted to hear about the exploring expedition was, that it had sailed.”

A decade of delays. The idea of a U.S. Exploring Expedition, initially championed by eccentric "Holes in the Poles" theorist John Cleves Symmes and later by Jeremiah N. Reynolds, languished for over a decade due to political infighting and a conservative navy. Despite President John Quincy Adams's early support, Congress refused funding, and the project became known as "the Deplorable Expedition." Reynolds tirelessly lobbied, eventually securing $150,000 in funding and President Andrew Jackson's commitment.

Wilkes's strategic maneuvering. Lieutenant Charles Wilkes, then head of the Depot of Charts and Instruments, shrewdly positioned himself for command. He undertook a successful survey of Georges Bank, earning the admiration of Nathaniel Bowditch, America's foremost navigator. He also cultivated political allies, including Secretary of War Joel Poinsett, who, after numerous senior officers declined the controversial command, offered it to Wilkes.

A controversial appointment. Wilkes's appointment, a junior lieutenant leading such an ambitious undertaking, sparked outrage within the navy. Senior officers protested vehemently, but Wilkes, with Poinsett's backing, pressed forward. He streamlined the scientific corps, selected a young, energetic officer team, and, despite a personal tragedy (his father's death) and a severe illness (smallpox), prepared the squadron for departure, driven by a "sense of entitlement" and a belief in his destiny.

3. A Commodore's Tyranny and Officer Disillusionment

“From this time forward, there was ‘war to the knife’ between Captn. Wilkes & most of his officers.”

Self-proclaimed authority. Shortly after leaving Callao, Wilkes, frustrated by the Navy Department's refusal to grant him a captaincy, audaciously promoted himself and his second-in-command, William Hudson, to captain. He then hoisted a commodore's pennant, an unprecedented act in the U.S. Navy, signaling his intent to operate beyond conventional naval hierarchy. This move, while asserting his authority, also alienated many who saw it as an "unwarranted stroke of policy."

The martinet's mask. Wilkes adopted a rigid, martinet style of command, believing it essential for discipline. He became increasingly isolated, dining alone and rarely socializing with his officers. His insecurity, coupled with exhaustion and paranoia, led to arbitrary punishments and dismissals, such as the unjust suspension of First Lieutenant Thomas Craven. This behavior, initially seen as "little outbreaks," soon became a pattern, transforming a once "happy ship" into a "pressure cooker about to explode."

Officer rebellion. The officers, initially loyal, grew to despise Wilkes. His petty interference, such as banning fraternization between ranks and confiscating personal items, ignited widespread resentment. William Reynolds, once Wilkes's ardent admirer, became his "deathly foe," predicting that the "wound that has been inflicted will rankle all the cruise." This deep animosity would plague the expedition, turning internal relations into a "war to the knife."

4. The Perilous Quest for the White Continent

“I whose ambition leads me not only farther than any other man has been before me, but as far as I think it possible for man to go, was not sorry at meeting with this interruption.”

Antarctic ambitions. Wilkes's instructions included two forays into the Antarctic, a region James Cook had declared "whose horrible and savage aspect I have no words to describe." Despite the lateness of the season and his ill-equipped, unreinforced wooden ships, Wilkes was determined to surpass Cook and the French explorer Dumont d'Urville in the race to discover the southern continent. He divided his squadron, sending Hudson west and taking the Porpoise and Sea Gull east.

A brutal environment. The Drake Passage lived up to its fearsome reputation, battering the ships with thirty-two-foot waves and freezing temperatures. The tiny schooner Sea Gull, in particular, endured a "thrilling and very wet ride," its gaff breaking in immense seas. Wilkes, however, seemed to thrive in the danger, declaring, "I never felt myself so full of energy in my life as I do now."

Hudson's ordeal. Meanwhile, Hudson's Peacock, leaking badly and battered by storms, faced its own harrowing challenges. A sailor fell to his death, and the ship was constantly awash. The Flying Fish, under Lieutenant William Walker, pushed even further south, reaching 70° south, just shy of Cook's record. Walker's crew endured freezing conditions, broken equipment, and a terrifying escape from rapidly closing ice, proving the resilience of the small schooner and its men.

5. Antarctica Claimed: Glory Undermined by Deceit

“Captain Hudson would now give his head had he paid more attention to the thing; how to get out of the dilemma, he does not know.”

First sighting controversy. On January 16, 1840, Passed Midshipmen William Reynolds and Henry Eld on the Peacock sighted what they believed to be the Antarctic continent. Captain Hudson, however, inexplicably dismissed their report, refusing to verify it or record it in the log. Three days later, Wilkes on the Vincennes claimed his own "first sighting" on January 19, a date he later suspiciously inserted into his journal.

Wilkes's relentless push. Despite his officers' and medical staff's pleas to turn back due to exhaustion and illness, Wilkes, driven by an "unshakable sense of dread" and a desire for undeniable proof, continued to sail west for 1,500 miles along the icy barrier. He braved gales, countless icebergs, and near-collisions, charting a vast section of coastline that would later be named Wilkes Land. This was an "extraordinary feat of seamanship," accomplished without losing a single man.

Undermining his own triumph. Upon returning to Sydney, Wilkes learned that d'Urville had landed on Antarctica on January 21. To counter this, Wilkes publicly announced his January 19 sighting, ignoring the earlier, unacknowledged discovery by Reynolds and Eld. He even sent a detailed chart of his findings to James Ross, his British rival, despite orders to keep them secret. This hunger for personal glory and his subsequent attempts to manipulate the narrative would permanently taint his monumental achievement.

6. Fiji's Bloody Shores: Cannibalism and Retribution

“man was the most popular of the vertebrate animals used for food.”

A dangerous mission. Wilkes's next major task was to survey the Fiji Islands, a treacherous archipelago known for its "frightful display of rocks & reefs" and its inhabitants' fearsome reputation for cannibalism. Eight American vessels had already been lost in the region, and Wilkes grimly predicted losing "no fewer than two vessels" during the survey. This danger prompted many officers to make out their wills.

Capture of Veidovi. Wilkes, advised by the "tame white man" David Whippy, decided to capture Chief Veidovi, accused of murdering American sailors years prior. Hudson lured Veidovi onto the Peacock under false pretenses, then seized him. Veidovi, a powerful chief with fifty-five wives, was sentenced to be taken to the United States, a fate he accepted with regal solemnity. This act, however, inflamed tensions with other Fijian chiefs, particularly Tanoa and his brutal son Seru, who were known for their "violence and brutality."

Malolo massacre. The Expedition's presence in Fiji culminated in a tragic massacre on Malolo Island. After Lieutenant Joseph Underwood and Midshipman Wilkes Henry were killed by natives during a food bartering attempt, Wilkes ordered a swift and brutal retaliation. A force of eighty men attacked the village of Sualib, burning it to the ground and killing an estimated eighty Fijians. Wilkes, despite his personal grief over his nephew's death, insisted on further humiliation, forcing the surviving natives to perform labor for the squadron.

7. Mauna Loa's Heights: Scientific Triumph, Moral Decay

“I was glad to hear it, for I could not help pitying their forlorn condition in such bitter weather. This put me in better spirits, greatly to [Judd’s] surprise.”

Ascent of Mauna Loa. Wilkes, seeking to "swing the pendulum" atop Hawaii's Mauna Loa, embarked on an arduous expedition up the colossal volcano. He aimed to conduct gravity experiments, a major contribution to geodesy, and brought a large party of native bearers, his personal staff, and his dog Sydney. Despite the physical demands and the natives' desertions due to extreme cold, Wilkes was determined to achieve this "novel and arduous enterprise."

Kilauea's fiery spectacle. Before Mauna Loa, the party visited Kilauea, the world's most active volcano. Wilkes and his team descended into the caldera, witnessing bubbling lava pools and searing heat. Dr. Gerrit Judd, the expedition's Hawaiian guide, narrowly escaped death when a lava pool erupted, yet bravely collected a sample for the collection. Wilkes, though initially terrified, found the "magnificent" sight "worth a voyage round the world to witness."

Moral decline. While Wilkes battled the elements on Mauna Loa, the Vincennes in Hilo Bay descended into moral chaos. Sailors indulged in "half-crazy excesses" with local women, and even the ship's chaplain was dismissed for an affair. Wilkes, oblivious to the rampant debauchery on his flagship, continued his "rampage" of dismissals and floggings, including the brutal "flogging round the fleet" of marines and a sailor, further cementing his reputation for cruelty.

8. The Columbia's Treachery and the Peacock's Demise

“Mere description can give little idea of the terrors of the bar of the Columbia.”

Columbia's deadly bar. The Columbia River bar, a "malevolent monster" where the river's colossal flow met the Pacific's ocean surge, was one of the most dangerous river entrances in the world, claiming over two thousand shipwrecks. Wilkes, despite his pilot's warnings, was impatient to cross. He initially bypassed it for Puget Sound, where he meticulously surveyed and named numerous features, leaving an "indelible, if largely unappreciated, stamp upon the land."

Peacock's tragic end. Captain Hudson, already months behind schedule and plagued by poor judgment, rashly attempted to cross the Columbia bar in the Peacock. The ship ran aground, and despite heroic efforts, was pounded to pieces by the waves. The crew, including William Reynolds, watched helplessly from the Flying Fish as their ship was destroyed. Hudson's "rashness in Antarctica had nearly sunk the ship; his officers and men could only hope that they would be luckier this time."

Wilkes's mixed success. Wilkes, upon learning of the Peacock's loss, expressed relief that lives were saved, but was frustrated by Hudson's incompetence. He successfully negotiated with the Hudson's Bay Company, ensuring the survey of the Columbia River, a critical mission for American expansion. However, his continued tyrannical behavior, including the arrest of Lieutenant Robert Johnson and the public humiliation of Hudson, further alienated his officers, even as he completed the vital surveys of the Pacific Northwest and San Francisco Bay.

9. Homeward Bound: Reckoning and Lingering Bitterness

“Death cannot be worse than the fright, for the abandonment of hope is death itself.”

Near-death in the Philippines. After three years at sea, the squadron began its long journey home. William Reynolds, now a lieutenant, faced his closest brush with death near Manila when the Flying Fish, against his advice, nearly ran aground in a furious gale. This terrifying incident, which he found more frightening than the Peacock's wreck, solidified his resolve to never "wander again unless Mrs. Reynolds sails in company."

Wilkes's unraveling. In Singapore, Wilkes received devastating news: his eldest son, Jack, had joined the navy, and his scientific collections were being mishandled. He also learned that his promotion had been denied, and his rivals were actively undermining his reputation. His "great uproar" over a missed rendezvous point led to a court of inquiry against a loyal officer, further alienating his command. He clung to his self-proclaimed commodore status, convinced he was "superior and master now of all."

A bitter return. The final leg of the journey was marked by Wilkes's continued abuses, including the flogging of marines and the callous disposal of the Flying Fish. Reynolds, reassigned to the Porpoise, endured the "diabolical arrangement" of arriving in New York a month after Wilkes, his hatred for his commander now a "dark obsession." The death of the Fijian chief Veidovi in New York, his skull later added to the Expedition's collection, served as a grim postscript to the voyage's human cost.

10. A Lasting Scientific Legacy, a Tarnished Personal Fate

“I am tired of all this thing called science here.”

A cold reception. Wilkes returned to Washington in 1842, expecting accolades but instead facing a hostile Whig administration and a navy eager to prosecute him. His attempts to publicize the Expedition's findings were suppressed, and he was forced to defend himself in a series of courts-martial. Though acquitted of most charges, he was publicly reprimanded for illegal floggings, a "mildest form" of displeasure that "cut him to the very soul."

The battle for the narrative. Wilkes, denied promotion and facing financial ruin, fought tirelessly to control the Expedition's legacy. He published his five-volume Narrative, a work of "oppressive dimensions" that, while containing moments of brilliance, also served as a platform to malign his officers. William Reynolds and others launched counter-attacks, publishing rebuttals and lobbying Congress, forever cementing the animosity surrounding the Expedition's official account.

Enduring scientific impact. Despite the personal feuds, the Expedition's scientific contributions were immense. Its vast collections formed the foundation of the Smithsonian Institution and the U.S. Botanic Garden. James Dana's geological work, particularly on coral atolls and island chains, anticipated plate tectonics and earned praise from Charles Darwin. Horatio Hale's linguistic studies broke new ground in ethnography. Wilkes's relentless advocacy, though often abrasive, ensured the publication of numerous scientific reports, fostering a new era of government-funded science in America.

Last updated: August 23, 2025