# The Wager by David Grann - Blinkist

What’s in it for me? Learn about one of the most notorious mutinies in England’s naval history.

There’s a good chance you may have heard of the mutiny aboard the HMS Bounty, a 1789 event that’s been the subject of many books as well as movies starring the likes of Marlon Brando and Anthony Hopkins. In that story, crew members tire of their captain’s abusive naval discipline and take over the ship by force.

The story of the Wager isn’t as famous, but that’s due in part to how much more complicated, controversial, and scandalous the event was. In addition to the mutiny, the events also involved widespread bouts of typhus and scurvy, a shipwreck, starvation, multiple murders, and even cannibalism – all of which made it an uncomfortable subject for the Royal Navy.

In this Blink, we’ll recount the story of how a ship carrying 250 men dwindled to just over 30 people – and how those survivors managed to persevere through the most incredible of circumstances.

A captain’s first voyage

David Cheap longed to be a captain. But in September 1740, after spending much of his 40 years of life at sea, this goal remained just out of reach. He was, however, the first lieutenant aboard the HMS Centurion, which made him second-in-command. The Centurion was the 60-gun flagship of a squadron that consisted of five other smaller warships: the Gloucester, the Severn, the Pearl, the Wager, and the smallest of them all, an 8-gun sloop called the Trial. There was also one scouting sloop and two merchant vessels. Their aim was to sail around Cape Horn, at the very bottom of South America, then enter the Pacific, and disrupt Spanish colonies and trade routes.

Since October 1739, Britain had been at war with Spain in what was known as the War of Jenkins’ Ear – so named after a British merchant who had his ear cut off by a Spanish officer who accused Jenkins of smuggling sugar. The War of Jenkins’ Ear had been mostly a failure for Britain thus far. It had done nothing to diminish Spain’s power and influence. But in 1740, the British Navy still had hopes of thwarting its rival. In fact, one of the objectives given to the squadron was to intercept and plunder a Spanish galleon ship known to be full of treasure for the purposes of buying silks and Asian spices.

Still, finding crewmen for six warships wasn’t easy. The War of Jenkins’ Ear hadn’t exactly inspired a rush of volunteers. Instead, groups of men known as press gangs had to scour the dockyards and British shorelines for anyone who fit the bill. Boys as young as six years old were conscripted, as were the elderly and the infirm. Thieves and former prison convicts were also snatched. One admiral described the lot as “the filth of London.” Indeed, it was an unfortunate fact that many brought on board carried lice, which, unbeknownst at the time, were a primary cause of typhoid fever.

The Centurion was hoping to set sail with 500 souls on board. One of the other warships, the Wager, carried 250 men. Among the Wager’s crew was a 16-year-old midshipman, John Byron, who was one of the few who came from a well-to-do family. He’d eventually be the grandfather of the famous poet Lord Byron.

When the squadron finally set sail on September 18, 1740, they were all under the command of Commodore George Anson, who was captain of the Centurion. But after reaching Madeira, off the northwestern coast of Africa, one of the other captains wished to resign. So, a reshuffling took place, and David Cheap got the one thing he’d been dreaming of all these years: he finally became captain. The vessel under his command was to be the Trial. It was one of the smallest ships in the squadron, but he was now, officially, Captain Cheap.

Burials at sea

In Madeira, alarming rumors were already swirling. Word had reached Commodore Anson that a Spanish armada was lurking nearby, led by Admiral Don Jose Pizarro. They reportedly knew all about Anson’s plans and were ready to put an end to things before they’d even begun.

Armed with this intelligence, Anson and the British squadron extinguished all flames and snuck away under the cover of night. They got a good head start, but Pizarro wouldn’t be shaken that easily. He followed Anson all the way to the dangerous waters of Cape Horn.

But Pizzaro wasn’t the only concern. Shortly after departure from Madeira, the first cases of typhoid fever began to appear. By December, as the squadron approached the shores of South America, 65 men had been buried at sea.

On December 17, 1740, the squadron dropped anchor at the island of St. Catherine, off the coast of Brazil. By the time it had left the island, on January 18, the death toll had risen to 160 men. In the days that followed, the captain of the Wager was counted among the dead. This required another shuffling of personnel, which is how David Cheap became captain of the Wager, a 24-gun warship that was over twice the size of the Trial.

Then, as if the ravages of typhoid fever weren’t enough, the entire squadron was soon stricken with scurvy. Scurvy works its way up to attack the entire body. It might start as a slight pain in the foot, but soon the knees, hips, and shoulders are infected. The infected’s eyes bulge, their teeth and hair fall out, and their skin turns black. John Byron called scurvy “the most violent pain imaginable.” For some, death was merciful.

The Wager, which began its voyage with 250 men, had now fallen to well below 200. Aboard the Centurion, nearly 300 of the 500 aboard would die. Since a well-functioning ship requires its crew to work in unison, like clockwork, terrible disasters can occur when the crew becomes shorthanded.

To make matters worse, they’d been sighting Pizarro’s Spanish armada ever since they left St. Catherine’s. Spanish guns were behind them and the fearsome torrents of Cape Horn were in front. For the crew of the Wager, who were burying another seven or eight men at sea every morning, death was all around.

Rounding the Horn

The further south you sail, the worse things get. In fact, there are terms for the extreme winds that seamen face when entering the southern latitudes. When you hit 40 degrees latitude, it’s known as the “roaring forties.” From there you cross into the “furious fifties,” and then there are the “screaming sixties.”

Rounding Cape Horn required Anson’s squadron to go deep into the furious fifties. The hurricane-level winds could push the ships sideways. The massive punishing waves could carry lethal chunks of ice. All the while, the men had to navigate through some of the strongest currents in the world while avoiding shallow reefs and small islands of jagged rocks. It was madness. And the fierce winds, rain, and dark storm clouds meant it was slow going. They spent a month in what is known as Drake Passage, trying to get clear of danger.

The Wager was faring no better than the scurvy-ravaged men. Winds shredded the sails and a wave took down the mizzen – a crucially important mast – sending the sails and the rigging into the churning sea. Then, the Wager lost sight of the other boats in the squadron. First the Centurion, then the Pearl, and finally the Severn. The Wager was alone, crippled, and nearly blind.

Eventually, Captain Cheap succeeded in the rare feat of navigating a warship around Cape Horn. But as they turned north into the waters of the Pacific along the western coast of Patagonia, the terrifying weather did not subside.

On May 13, 1741, the ship ended up colliding with rocks in what’s aptly known as the Gulf of Pain or Golfo de Penas. While they were now out of the deadly seas, the harsh and jagged landscape of the Patagonia coastline was hardly a favorable substitute.

Desperation on Wager Island

It’s hard to say that there’s anything lucky about a shipwreck, but it was fortunate that the Wager found itself wedged between two rock formations. This slowed down the descent and allowed more people to escape the flooding shipwreck.

The Wager carried smaller transport boats on its deck. While the biggest – the 36-foot longboat – was broken, they were able to free the 25-foot cutter, the 24-foot barge, and the 18-foot yawl. They used these to ferry as many as they could to the nearby island. All in all, 145 men – including at least a couple of boys – managed to escape the sinking ship. They soon named their new home Wager Island.

Nails were eventually scavenged from the wreck. Lean-tos and huts were made. John Bulkeley,  the ship's gunner, had the idea of flipping the 25-foot cutter over, propping it up, and using it as a roof. This worked well and eventually became something resembling a small house. In fact, over time, the beach on Wager Island resembled a small community, complete with a main street running down the middle.

But food remained a dire situation. There was very little to harvest from the island aside from seaweed. Though, mercifully, there was enough wild celery to cure the group of their scurvy. But as the weeks turned into months, people began to die from starvation. And some people turned to eating the dead. At least one man was found strangled to death in the woods.

As desperation grew, so too did resentment toward Captain Cheap. What was he doing to get them off this godforsaken island? More and more, the people began to look instead to Bulkeley for leadership and secret meetings started taking place in his converted cutter house. The captain was getting desperate himself. He began to suspect that a mutiny was underway. But Bulkeley wanted to give the stubborn Captain Cheap every possible chance.

It all fell apart one day when a man named Henry Cozens refused to follow an order. Captain Cheap accused Cozens of being drunk and had him confined. This prompted Cozens to hurl insults at the captain, saying what a lot of people were thinking and loudly blaming him for their situation.

This didn’t end well. After Cozens was released, he got into a dispute with another man over daily rations. This resulted in the man firing his gun at Cozens. Captain Cheap heard the gunshot and ran to the scene. Believing that Cozens had fired the gun, Cheap shot Cozens in the head – right in front of everyone.

Was the captain now a cold-blooded murderer? It certainly didn’t help his popularity contest with Bulkeley. And soon, after nearly five months of nightmarish existence on this island, people were forced to pick sides.

Castaways and survivors

Not long after Cozens’ death, a remarkable plan began to take shape. Cummins the carpenter had the idea of rescuing the broken 36-foot longboat and not just repairing it, but adding another 12 feet to it and building two wooden masts. The plan required boring a hole in the side of the sunken wreckage and weeks of arduous labor from a group of people who were all already near-dead. Yet, miraculously, it worked.

The makeshift sailboat, which they named the Speedwell, was finished on the 144th day on Wager Island. But what were they going to do with it? This was the final, fractious decision.

Bulkeley wanted to take the Speedwell, along with the cutter and the barge, go back around Cape Horn, and follow the eastern coast to Brazil. It would be a long and perilous journey, and they might have to avoid some Spanish settlements along the way, but Portuguese-controlled Brazil was a known and reliable safe haven.

Of course, Captain Cheap still dreamed of going north and reuniting with the rest of the squadron. But at this point, there were only 91 people still alive on the island, and nearly everyone was on Bulkeley’s side. The offer was made to take Cheap with them as a prisoner so that he may be brought to trial for Cozens’ murder. But the captain told everyone he’d rather stay on the island.

So it was settled. Ultimately 19 men remained by the captain’s side on the island, including John Byron. The barge and the small, 18-foot yawl were their only hope.

Bulkeley now had 71 people: 59 in the Speedwell and 12 in the cutter. On October 14, 1741, five months after being shipwrecked, they began their journey back around Cape Horn. It took three and a half months, and many more died along the way, but on January 28, 1742, Bulkeley and 28 other men made it to the port of Rio Grande, on the southern edge of Brazil.

They were greeted by the governor of the region, and the Speedwell became a popular attraction for the townspeople. After everyone was given food and warm lodgings, Bulkeley soon sent a telegram to inform British naval authorities that Captain Cheap had elected not to join his party.

Meanwhile, Cheap and his loyalists proceeded with the captain’s plan to head north. They spent a couple months reinforcing the yawl and the barge, and on December 15 they finally left Wager Island.

But it was useless. Even though the small boats had sails, they weren’t big enough to fight the currents, waves, and winds. After two months of trying and falling short, the exhausted group retreated back to Wager Island.

More months went by until a Patagonian man named Martin found the castaways and told them that he knew how to get to Chiloé Island, the closest Spanish settlement. And so, on March 6, 1742, they left the island once more, this time for good.

Some people died along the way, and some ran off into the wilderness, not trusting the strange Patagonian guide. But Byron, Captain Cheap, and a few others continued on. They traveled over land and water until, in June, they reached Chiloé Island, where they promptly became prisoners of the Spanish.

They spent seven months in confinement, until one day, they were suddenly set free. The war was seemingly over, and they even had dinner with Don Jose Pizarro, the commander who’d chased the squadron across the ocean.

When they returned to London, everyone was surprised to find out that Captain Cheap was still alive. And Captain Cheap was surprised to find that, in his absence, John Bulkeley had published the journals that he’d diligently kept during the entire ordeal. It was a best seller in fact, and it more or less accused Cheap of negligence and murder.

On the brighter side, Cheap also learned that his former mentor Commodore George Anson had not only survived the journey around the horn, but he’d also succeeded in intercepting and looting the Spanish galleon that the men had all dreamed about. The 200 men who survived aboard the Centurion were handsomely rewarded as this act was one of the few symbolic victories the British could point to in the War of Jenkins’ Ear.

But with Captain Cheap suddenly back from the dead, the debate was once again revived: Did Cheap commit murder? Did Bulkeley orchestrate a mutiny? Both were acts punishable by hanging, yet neither was accused by the court-martial that eventually took place.

On April 14, 1746, 13 judges heard testimony from Bulkeley, Cheap, Lieutenant Baynes, and a few other survivors. No one was asked about what happened on the island. The only thing the judges concerned themselves with was whether or not Captain Cheap’s actions were responsible for the wrecking of the Wager. Everyone who testified said the Captain behaved admirably aboard the ship. So no charges were brought against anyone. It was as if the Royal Navy simply wanted to put the whole affair behind it.

So, Cheap continued to hold the title of captain, and eight months after the court-martial he was back at sea. While more books came out about the squadron’s journey, they usually focused on the glory that the Centurion had achieved. This was the version with the happy ending that people would remember for generations to come.

Final summary

The story of The Wager is like a perfect storm of unfortunate events. Soon after the squadron embarked on its voyage, typhoid fever and scurvy greatly reduced the number of crew members. This immediately made the Wager vulnerable. The stormy weather also reduced visibility and damaged the ship’s sails and rudder, making the shipwreck a near certainty. It also seems inevitable that the surviving crew members would come to resent their captain after suffering from starvation for so many months. The fact that over 30 people survived and made it to safety is a testament to human perseverance.