Part 30

About 45° from the zenith a mist commenced, thickening gradually into clouds dense and black, their lofty cones and dark abysses brought forth with startling clearness by great ceaseless surges of heat-lightning that enveloped the horizon like undulating, violet flames. On board no sound broke the stillness, which was that of the Arctic icefields, for minutes at a time, except now and then the creak of a yard that broke harshly on the ear, or the pleasant sound of a light swell at long intervals that chuckled to itself under the counter; and we floated motionless upon the deep, wrapped in an absolute and breathless calm. And the golden, bell-like tones of the exquisite _andante_ from the Sonata Appassionata seemed to dwell in the air; tones which Beethoven said was his own conception of the music of the spheres, for the movement occurred to him one night in the hills, while contemplating the stellar glories of a clear, tranquil sky. Oh, what majesty in such a night! Oh, the solemn grandeur of this phase of nature! Indeed, it is difficult to say which exerts the more powerful influence over the mind: a gale of wind or a great, soundless calm, when every star in the firmament seems reflected in the motionless sea.

Throughout this forenoon, too, the wind was of the lightest sort, though this fact was productive of some little diversion. Shortly after ten o’clock the captain called our attention to several sharks wandering about far down in the blue depths under the stern, and presently several dolphin appeared hovering about the rudder, offering, with their agility and marvellous coloring, a striking contrast to the slothful, sombre sharks. All at once the old man ran off, and then returned with a formidable engine of destruction, consisting of a huge iron hook strong enough to sustain an ox, with a short length of wire rope attached to it. His other hand clutched a mass of oleaginous pork, from which liquid fat exuded in the rays of a baking sun. This delicacy, the mere sight of which would revolt the stomach of an emu, the skipper gayly secured on the hook, and then bent the whole affair to a long line as big as the main-brace. This gear would really have been suitable for the capture of nothing smaller than a ninety-barrel whale; but the captain surveyed his arrangements with much urbanity and dropped the contrivance over the stern. There was no shark in sight, but one speedily appeared, and propelled himself with great caution toward the bait; his eye caught the cable then to which it was fastened, and he sheered off. When he had manœuvred thus several times, he seemed to summon his friends, for three more of the creatures mysteriously appeared. They, too, were very shy at first; but at length they began to turn slightly on their backs as they approached, a sure sign that before long they would seize the bait. At last the largest one swam boldly up to it, turned over, opened his wicked jaws, his double row of triangular teeth closed upon the extreme edge of the meat, and he deftly tore the whole piece off the hook, while he seemed to smile as he leisurely rejoined his companions.

Then the skipper fetched another lump of pork-fat, which he kneaded and squelched in his hand as he walked along. Again the same wily beast took the bait, and once more we drew up the naked hook. After a repetition of this, the skipper, with much pomposity, rigged the harpoon and bade me stand by with it while he endeavored to entice the sharks close under the counter with another pound of pork. Several times I hove the weapon without the least risk to any of the sharks, though I all but followed the harpoon overboard at every lunge, and once contrived to stand in the bight of the rope, which nearly cut me in two; and we could perceive the iron plunge down fathom after fathom in the transparent water. Finally I did strike one in the middle of the back, but the harpoon bounded off his tough hide and he glided away unharmed. This was discouraging, and we desisted soon afterward, as we had to carry on the attack under a terrific sun. The sharks looked unspeakably comfortable, sauntering around below the rudder, now sinking out of sight, now cleaving the surface at a distance with their sharp dorsal fins, upright like sabres, and I was secretly well pleased that we didn’t kill one, for I must confess that the sight of a shark does not throw me into convulsions of horror, nor does it consume me with the fanatical thirst for slaughter, which is the general effect produced by the appearance of one of these beasts.

Each of these sharks was attended by the familiar little pilot-fish, about the size of a small mackerel, with his body wonderfully marked with bands of dark blue and black, as sharply defined as the turning-post of a croquet set; strange it surely is to see these tiny fellows fearlessly maintain their position just under the gaping mouth.

As indicated elsewhere, Mr. Goggins hasn’t much to say these days, although he has recovered somewhat from the cataleptic state into which the stabbing of the second mate threw him. He was quite talkative last night in his watch, and congratulated me upon my not smoking, saying, “I’m glad to see you don’t use these cigareets; they’re bad things, and I can tell you why,--’cause they’re full o’ nicoline.”

The second mate is pulling slowly along, with sunken cheeks and hollow eyes, an ill-looking man, and what is more miserable than a sick sailor? Every one aboard ship has his own duties to perform, and scant attention and no sympathy is vouchsafed to the luckless man confined to his room. Latitude, 11° 49′ north; longitude, 123° 5′ west.

+August 29+

The northeast Trades! Yes, the northeast Trades! Even the skipper is pretty sure that they have arrived, though we are still three degrees south of where they generally are in August. It is a piece of very good luck, for we all expected to be several days more in the Doldrums, and those who were on deck when the wind came in a squall at sunrise hardly dared to breathe or move for fear that it would be nothing but a puff. But as the hours wore on and the breeze momentarily increased, it was soon apparent that the Trades had reached us. How vastly different to-day is from yesterday! Then, all stagnation and blighting, withering heat; now, all motion and joy and sparkling sea. We had not a breath of air for eight solid hours last night, though, and the wrath of Abner Scruggs was very, very great. From eight to ten, during his watch on deck, we, sitting on the cabin-house, could hear him muttering and thumping away by the wheel-house, and we privately smiled thereat. Finally, after a couple of hours of this harlequin act, my wife went below; and then I went over to him and listened to the liveliest sort of arguments that he had with himself for nearly an hour. In vain he tried to draw me into them, and as a last resort he began on Central Park. “That’s a queer kind of a park, that is, where they won’t let people walk on the grass. Why don’t they have it like the park in Sydney? What’s a park for, anyway? Why don’t they put the thing in a glass case?” But I let him gibber on, and when I turned in, a little later, he had wrought himself into one of his passions.

A day or two ago I was reading at the wheel-house door. The hour was ten in the morning, and hardly a sound was to be heard. The old man was below asleep and the mate was at work on the main-deck. Old Kelly was steering, and suddenly he leaned over and said, “Can you tell me about where she is, sir?” in a whisper. Then he went on, “I want to tell you somethin’; if ’twasn’t for you and the lady there’d be trouble in this ship.” “There has been trouble,” said I. Kelly glanced askance at me and answered disdainfully, “Ho! I don’t call _that_ trouble; that’s what you expect when you ship in a Yankee. What I mean is real trouble that begins with M. But the men, even the worst of ’em, have got such a regard for your lady for the way she behaved off Cape Horn, and all through the voyage for that matter, that they’re holdin’ in for her sake.” Whether this was said with some ulterior motive it is impossible to tell; but Kelly spoke in a calm voice as if he meant what he said. What he suggested by his mysterious M. was a word that I have never heard a sailor pronounce,--mutiny. To them it is a word too full of deadly meaning for ordinary conversation. For, generally speaking, there are only two things aboard ship,--one is duty, and the other is mutiny. All that a seaman is ordered to do is duty; all that he refuses to do is mutiny. Rarx is beginning to lose heart as well as flesh, and says that if he lives to see the Farallones he’ll surprise himself. This is unfortunate, and we are doing all we can to cheer him up. Latitude, 12° 30′ north; longitude, 124° 30′ west.

+August 30+

Our course has been bad for twenty-four hours, as during the greater part of that period we steered nothing to the northward of west, and our present course would take us to Honolulu in 165°. Ships are generally forced over to 140° or 145° even under ordinary conditions, and if we do not find ourselves 20° west of San Francisco when the Trades let go, we will do well. The weather, though, is perfect; warmer certainly than in the southeast Trades, but not at all disagreeable in the shade,--about 81° at mid-day. A very acceptable change since we took this wind is that there have been no more rain-squalls. During the late Doldrums these squalls were at times practically continuous; and while the old man did finally rig up a bit of canvas, six feet by six, to serve as an awning, under which we had to crouch as though in the ’tween-decks, it was not of much use in the rain. It was extremely annoying to have to gather up the backgammon-board, two novels, a lot of sewing, a pillow, and two chairs and dash for the wheel-house half a dozen times a watch. Often the squalls lasted only two or three minutes, yet there was enough water in each shower to drench everything.

There is a very ingenious way of disposing of the main-top-sail and top-gallant-halliards on the “Higgins.” They are always very bulky, heavy ropes, and when coiled over a pin in the rail are very unsightly objects. To obviate this, there are two large reels in the monkey-rail at the forward end of the cabin-house, one on each side, upon which the free end of these ropes are wound when the yards have been mastheaded. A bit of twine then secures the reel to prevent the halliards paying out, and another piece stops it (the rope) up to the shrouds, clear of the men’s heads on the main-deck. When the yards have to be lowered, a sharp jerk breaks the twine, and the halliards run off without danger of fouling. It is a clever scheme and ought to be in more general use, the only drawback to it being that a hand has to mount the poop and reel up the halliards again when the yards have been hoisted; but that is a small matter.

I went down into the lazarette yesterday afternoon, after Louis had gone forward, and found that his quarters were not so stiflingly hot as might have been expected; the Frenchman still bears his confinement with extraordinary indifference. Mr. Rarx passed a very bad night. Latitude, 13° 17′ north; longitude, 126° west.

+August 31+

On this, the last day of August, we have but little cause for rejoicing. In the first place, the wind has been dead against us and light at that; and, in the second place, the captain is in so churlish a temper as to barely answer yes and no to civil questions. Shortly before four o’clock yesterday the wind began to ease up, and by nightfall had dwindled to a light air, and then whipped into the north-northwest, so that our course up to eight this morning was west, and we got that only by pinching her, so that our speed was seldom more than two knots. The night was a gorgeous one, with a sky that glistened with golden stars, while a new moon hung low down in the west; and far away in the southeast, over the face of a black cloud, shimmered waves of heat-lightning, lovely in the extreme.

By morning, as there were no indications of coming up, the captain concluded to tack ship, which was done between eight and nine o’clock; and we discovered, when braced up on the port tack, that we looked up to north-northeast, which was by no means bad. At the present time, three in the afternoon, the wind is a fresh, even a strong breeze, and we are doing pretty well except for a long head-swell, into which we plunge so heavily that we are not doing more than five knots instead of seven or eight.

The captain is in a worse humor than ever before, though it must be said that the evolution of tacking ship this morning was accomplished quietly, and, what is much more remarkable, without a single oath. Conversation at meals has been almost completely suspended again, except that my wife and I converse together, ignoring the captain entirely; this would be childish behavior on our part were it not that every remark that we have made lately has met with either a rough denial or indifferent silence. He asked us the other day whether Captain Kingdon of the “Mandalore” used to lose his temper in calms and head-winds; a question which we found much pleasure in answering in a vehement negative. The sailors have resumed most of their erstwhile good humor, perhaps on account of the proximity of the end of the voyage; it is reassuring to see them thus again, for a score of brooding, scowling sailors aboard ship is an unpleasant reminder of what the men could do if they were determined. Indeed, from a passenger’s point of view, I would far rather see a captain in a perpetual bad humor than the men. Considering all the ill-treatment that sailors get, it is extraordinary at first sight that they do not vindicate more frequently their wrongs at sea by quietly dropping the after-guard over the side. It is perfectly feasible to dispose of the officer of the watch at night. A single well-aimed blow of an iron belaying-pin in the helmsman’s hand is all that is necessary; and the captain and the other mate are asleep below and both could be readily made away with. But on close inspection two very strong reasons are disclosed showing why it is that the sailor does not more readily appear in the _rôle_ of avenger. The first reason is, not being a navigator, what is to become of the ship? and if they do reach a port, what credible story can be concocted? Murder will out. The second reason is to be found in that wonderful sense of obedience to captain and officers apparent in even the most desperate and abandoned seamen; so blind is their submission to authority, however grossly and fiendishly it may be abused, that they sometimes at the present day, in our own long-voyage ships, suffer death itself rather than resist him whom the law has invested with power so absolute that the might of a sultan suffers in comparison! But too few of our sailing-ship-masters seem to be possessed of the ordinary feelings of humanity toward their crews. After they have exhausted all other defences in upholding their bad treatment of sailors, they nearly always conclude by saying, “Well, what have we got in our ships? A lot of Dutch and English scum that you’ve got to lick h---- out of afore they’ll obey an order.” But how about the “S. P. Hitchcock” and the “St. James,” commanded respectively by Captains Gates and Banfield? Here are two deep-water American ships, who also have to take whatever crews the shipping masters give them, so that they are not a whit better off in the quality of their sailors than other vessels; yet there is never any trouble aboard of them at sea, and good-will and cheerfulness pervade both vessels. They have made some rattling good passages, and are positive proof that discipline can be obtained without violence; and, after nearly four months’ experience here, I believe that I am justified in expressing my opinion, which is, that _brutality toward and the continual driving and hazing of sailors do not conduce to order and discipline_. Commands are not obeyed here with the precision that they were on the “Mandalore,” and many and many a time I have seen the men make a great show of hauling on the braces when in reality they were not pulling a hundred pounds. Knock them over for this? No, it only makes them worse next time, but that’s what Yankee mates generally do. If work is to be got out of sailors, _they must be treated justly to begin with_; if not, you will get no more out of them than out of any other class.

The apathy and ignorance of people ashore is more remarkable than anything else in connection with this subject of brutality to sailors. I even know a young man who owns shares in some of our largest square-riggers who was utterly amazed when I told him of the record of one of his own captains. In justice to him, though, I must say that he took no personal interest in the ships other than that they should pay good dividends, and he really was in total ignorance of the _modus operandi_ of American captains. But it is not so with the vast majority of our sailing-ship-owners, who are fully aware of the manner in which their vessels are run, and who go bail to the extent of many hundreds of dollars for their inhuman captains when the latter are occasionally held to answer for some particularly atrocious deed, and who in many cases connive at the disappearance of blackguard mates when they are seeking to escape ashore from infuriated sailors whom these mates have half killed at sea. Cannot something be done to compel decent treatment of our long-voyage seamen? Sailors must be ruled with a hand of iron, for there are desperate characters among them; but, in heaven’s name, let him who wields the power be compelled to administer justice in his punishment of the men under him, that the disgrace and shame which now rest upon our long-voyage sailing ships may be removed, and that the offensive name of “Yankee hell-ship,” by which our deep-water vessels are known to foreign sailors, may be forever obliterated. Latitude, 13° 43′ north; longitude, 127° west.

+September 1+

Now in truth hath Disappointment come upon us and doth hover sullenly o’erhead on sable pinions. The Trades, the lovely northeast Trades, which we fondly imagined had reached us, did not materialize! For, having blown fitfully for two days, driving us two degrees farther west, they vanished, and in their stead a fresh westerly wind has arisen, and the weather is once more sticky and showery and the heavens are piled high-with huge wool-packs and glistening thunder-heads. But this is not all. We are plunging into a steep, heavy swell, that is surging down from the north in great, long, blue heaves; and it is a grand thing to look forward and see the jib-boom now rearing up higher and higher towards the zenith, now diving down, down into the deep quiet hollows, as the ship tumbles heavily to the catheads into the creamy waters.

We had quite a lively time at dinner to-day, for the westerly wind had smoothed the kinks out of the old man’s temper and he commenced a jocose argument with the mate about American politics. It will be remembered that Mr. Goggins is by birth an Englishman, but his papers give him the right to talk about “hour constitootion,” of which he takes advantage at every opportunity. I laughed at everything they said to egg them on, and at length they both began to wax wroth, the mate in a few minutes being quite wet with perspiration, so that at last all he could say was, “Be gar’s sake, sir,” which he repeated indefinitely like a hungry parrot asking for a cracker. Finally, though, the skipper spoiled the fun by getting really angry, and, gazing with piercing eye at Goggins for the space of half a minute, he utterly extinguished him with, “Well, I guess you’d better shut up; you don’t seem to know much about it.” Latitude, 15° north; longitude, 126° west.

+September 2+

Very strong winds from west shifting to southeast; high, northerly sea; excessive humidity and incessant rain-squalls. These have been the weather conditions for twelve hours, to which must be added a fall of thirty one-hundredths of an inch in the aneroid. Yesterday afternoon at four o’clock there were plenty of cyclonic indications round about us: a heavy swell, suffocating humidity, a wild, ferocious look in the enormous cumulus clouds, and a curious hot wind that at times strangely increased to strong gusts that hummed with a dreary drone in the rigging and then instantly subsided. Towards five o’clock the windward horizon grew to a uniform gray, oily, and dull as lead, with an indescribably menacing aspect in the low, greasy scud that hurried in tattered wisps just over the mast-heads. The captain was very uneasy, and admitted the proximity (if not of a cyclone) of one of those furious summer northers that often sweep across the North Pacific; and it must be remembered that we are close to the cyclonic belt which extends out into the ocean from the Central American seaboard.

At dusk both wind and sea had increased, and by eight o’clock we were charging into a swell large enough to merit the term majestic, the bowsprit rising and falling fully fifty feet, for the sea was from dead ahead, and there was wind enough to drive the ship rapidly up the slope of a billow and then far out into space, so that she fell full upon the breast of the next sea with a crushing force that must have wrenched every timber in her hull.