Asthe strength of the winds increased and we were mostly always before it, Captain Nichols concluded the ship would sail better if she was a trifle further down by the stern. We had loaded on an evener keel in Honolulu than on the passage out and now it was decided by the skipper to shift some weight aft. This was done by breaking out two hundred bags of sugar from the fore part of the hold and dragging it aft to the extreme end of the lazarette. The weight shifted, about fifteen tons, certainly made her steer better than before.
On June twenty-third we rove off a new main tops'l halyard purchase, and overhauled the tops'l tye. The weather was getting more and more severe, and we ran before it under fore lower tops'l, close reefed fores'l, reefed main upper tops'l, main lower tops'l, and mizzen lower tops'l, all other sail being on the yards and furled with the exception of fore topmast stays'l and jib, bothhauled amidships as a precaution against broaching to. The seas rose gradually and the ship rolled heavily. On June twenty-fifth our cargo shifted in the fore part of the 'tween deck, giving us a nasty list to leeward of about five degrees, and all hands were called at two in the mid watch to trim cargo. This was a devil of a job, except that it was warm, and kept us steadily employed for a stretch of twelve hours with only a short spell for grub. Captain Nichols himself came into the 'tween decks, and later on Mr. Zerk, myself and two of the men, Frenchy and Axel, if I remember right, went through the lower hold on top of the heaped-up sugar, where the sweet, sticky smell, slightly sour, mingled with the odors of the riled-up bilge, and the complaining of the hull. I carried a lantern and the rays, against the knees and beams, cast weird shadows. The hold was a fearsome place, pitching and rolling as if in mortal agony.
We found it increasingly necessary to keep the pumps going as the water worked in rapidly when running. A ship under such conditions of wind and sea is alternately lifted with her midship section carried on the back of a roller, her ends more or less tending to droop, or she is in the trough between two wave crests with her ends buried andthe midship section hanging. Oftentimes a poorly built craft becomes "hogged," that is, the midship is permanently lifted up and her sheer thrown out.
A constant repetition of stresses such as we were experiencing on theFuller, made intense by the dead weight of the cargo and the urge of the masts carrying their spread of sail, is bound to result in damage to the vessel. While working in the hold, the complaining of her timbers seemed worse than ever before on the voyage. We often wondered if she was going to pieces, as indeed many unreported ships have done. The sensation below gave one an impression of being at sea on a very uncertain proposition; a great leaky wooden box, with every solitary frame, scantling, hook, knee, and plank, complaining bitterly at the hard fate that had wrought them in the shape of a ship.
"I wish the bloody owners was down here for a day or two," said Old Smith, as we were shifting cargo in the hold, and I heartily agreed with him.
A few days later, when on deck, we forgot the forbidding pandemonium below; purposely forgot it, as so many people do with other things, and, as the ship did not wrack herself to piecesthat voyage, we at least were saved a lot of unnecessary worry.
On July first we were still plowing before it under reefed canvas. All work on deck was at a standstill except that required for sailing the ship, and by way of exercise and safety, the "farmers" dragged the "bear." Cape pigeons were everywhere and we caught a number of them for their wings by trailing a fish line overboard and hooking them. These birds are beautifully marked and when taken on deck invariably vomit their dinners; it almost looks as though the motion of the ship made them seasick. High overhead gray molly-hawks and fulmar gulls soared white-bellied and noisy against the leaden sky.
Oil bags were trailed over the side as the high seas surged past us like race horses, their white crests crinkling dangerously under our transom, and along the full sweep of the bulwarks, slopping aboard as we rolled, filling the gangways and main deck with tons of cold, blue water. Often, at the braces, we would be buried in these seas, a strange sensation that for the moment, as the weight of water lifted the feet from the deck, gave one the sensation of being detached from the ship, of being out in the midst of it all thousands of miles from shore; a funny feelingis this, entirely devoid of fear, though, of course, one held on like blazes to whatever was most handy, usually the pin rail or other substantial deck fitting.
Much has been written about the height of waves, and as we approached the southern limit of our course and headed to the east, well below the parallel of Cape Horn, we got the full benefit of those constant westerly winds that blow around the world. Here the heaviest straight line gales are to be met with and the great fetch of deep water helps to produce magnificent waves of the first magnitude.
Lecky, in his "Wrinkles," a book no sailor should be without, and a book no lover of the sea who likes to "be up" on things nautical should neglect to read, quotes Mr. Thomas Stevenson as the authority for an empirical formula that approximates the possible maximum height of waves, the same being considered as a function of the "fetch."
This is given as a matter of interest, for working it backward it shows how tremendous the sea spaces through which the rollers that followed us had their being. The Stevenson formula is as follows:
Height of wave in feet equals the square rootof the "fetch" in nautical miles multiplied by the constant 1.5.
Or, backward: the distance a wave has come equals its height, divided by 1.5, and the quotient squared.
As the wind increased in strength the waves mounted until immense billows were formed that measured from 50 to 60 feet in a vertical line from hollow to crest. This was easily determined by mounting the shrouds and watching until the ship was in the trough, then noting the height of eye on a level with the wave crests. In reversing the Stevenson formula we find that for a 60-foot wave a fetch of at least 1,600 miles is necessary.[8]
Enough sail had to be carried to give the ship ample steerage way when the walls of rushing water passed us, for incredible as it may seem to those who have not had the experience, the waves of the sea run at a speed far greater than anything afloat that sails. The tidal wave, theoretical at least, must have a speed of one thousand miles per hour in order that the tides may follow the attraction of the moon and girdle the earth each twenty-four hours;some speedeven in these days of rapid travel. Here we have a vertical translation of motion and not a horizontal shifting of water at that terrific speed. In the sea waves caused by wind friction, there is also simply a translation of up and down motion, exceptfor the rearing crest; if the sea waves moved bodily it would be extremely dangerous to live near the seashore and the coasts would soon be worn away; also, ships would not dare venture upon the ocean.
This statement about the possible destructive effect of the sea waves were they to move bodily started one of the hottest arguments ever contested in the fo'c'sle of theFuller. Tired and worn as we were, the greater part of an afternoon watch below was taken up in assailing my position. Australia could not see that I was right; even my staunch pal Frenchy doubted it. Finally I brought out my trusty "Wrinkles in Practical Navigation" by that sailor's friend, the late Captain S. T. S. Lecky, who added laurels to the name of the English merchant sailor that will never fade, and put them all to rout. The passage on Great Sea Waves is worth giving, and I here include it.
"The term 'Great Sea Wave' is used in contradistinction to 'Great Earth Wave,' which latter is the name given to the disturbance experienced on land.
"An earthquake may have its center of impulse either inland or under the bed of the ocean. In the first case, when the 'Great Earth Wave,' orsuperficial undulation, coming from inland, reaches the shores of the sea (unless these be precipitous, with deep water) it may lift the water up, and carry it out on its back, as it were; for the rate of transit of the shock is sometimes so great that the heap of water lifted up has not time to flow away toward the sides.
"At Arica, in Peru, and other places, this sudden going out of the sea has made bare the bottom of the bay, and left ships aground which only a few minutes before were riding quietly at anchor in several fathoms of water.
"As soon as the shock is over, the body of water thus forced out to sea returns as a huge wave, and, on approaching a sloping shore, rears up like a wall, and breaks with overwhelming force. Sometimes, however, its volume, height, and velocity are so great that it comes ashore bodily, and breaks far inland, causing even greater destruction to life and property. At Arica, theWateree—a 'double-ender' belonging to the United States Navy—was carried inland quite a distance by the reflux, and remained as evidence for many years. If the writer's memory is not at fault, she was carried clean over the railway embankment.
"When the seat of the disturbance is beneaththe ocean, the 'Great Sea Wave' rushes in upon the land as before—with this difference, that it is not preceded by the water retiring from the foreshore, as in the first case....
"About the most notable instance of a 'Great Sea Wave' occurred during the stupendous and ever-memorable eruption in August, 1883, which had for its center the Island of Krakatoa, in the Straits of Sunda. On this occasion the loss of life amounted to 37,000, caused chiefly by the sea waves, one of which attained the almost incredible height of 135 feet. Its effects were traced to all the principal tide gauges of the world, and were even observed at Havre, some 11,000 miles from the source of origin.
"A full account of this eruption, which was investigated in detail by committees and sub-committees of the Royal Society, comprising many of the leading scientists of the day, has been published in a volume of nearly 500 quarto pages, under the editorship of Mr. G. T. Symons. In this book every branch of the phenomenon and its effects have been most thoroughly dealt with, and is consequently well worth perusal."
What Captain Lecky has said may well cause us to pause and wonder how a "Great Sea Wave"would affect Coney Island of a hot Sunday in midsummer.
However, on the shipFuller, to get back to our muttons, we thought of no Coney Island. We were very much at sea, and thankful for the fact that the waves could grow no larger. For it is a fact that the rapid rate of progress of waves serves to limit their height, for as soon as the speed of the wave becomes about half that of the speed of the wind the accelerating effect of the wind action remaining is absorbed by the friction of the water particles, and the waves are at their maximum.
We had a splendid opportunity to study the waves, and it was with a never-failing fascination that I always looked for the occasional grouping of three or four large rollers, rising above the rest, due to a piling up because of differences in rate of progress. On the ships of an earlier day, the fear of being "pooped" was always uppermost in the minds of timid helmsmen, but on theFullerwe were protected in a measure by the wheelhouse. This structure, right aft against the taffrail, served as a shelter, and at the same time housed the tiller, the tiller shackles, and the relieving tackles. The fore part was given over to the wheel and was quite fancy, immaculatewhite gratings under foot, bright wood panelling inside and brass fittings wherever possible. A sliding shutter overhead was thrown back, when on the wind, to allow the helmsman a sight of the weather cloth of the mizzen skysail. Just forward of the binnacle, and taking in the whole front of the wheelhouse, was a window fitted with sliding shutters. At least one of these was always open, for the officer of the deck never came into the wheelhouse when on duty, merely shouting his orders to the man at the helm. The good sense that finally provided wheelhouses on sailers was amply justified. Comparative warmth and protection from wind and sea helped just that much in steering, and a far better course was held through the long, strenuous watches of heavy weather. The wheelhouse was always one of the most comfortable spots aboard ship.
To my mind, steering was a lot of fun. This was specially so in good lively weather. The direct pull of the rudder, the "kick" and the "feel" of the ship never failed to thrill me with a sense of power. Just as handling "the stick" on a good able boat in fine brisk weather is a sport of never-ending delight, so the trick at the wheel aboard theFulleralways made me feel that I was the man who sailed the ship.
The pointer by old Bo'sun Dreilick, of theSt. Mary's, and now of theNewport, that ancient mariner of many, many voyages, filled with the accumulated wisdom of the seven seas, stood me in good stead. "When at the wheel, work the ship in your mind as if you had charge of the watch," was his advice. Doing this aboard theFullerwith such a consummate sailor as Mr. Zerk in charge was an instructive exercise. During daytime tricks I could see where sails needed trimming, or where a shift of canvas would help her, and would often have everything settled in my mind before the mate would notice things. At night it was different. The least shift of wind or the slightest change of weather always found him on the alert. To an ambitious lad, anxious to master the hoary art of conducting a ship across the surface—decidedly, surface—of the many wrinkled ocean, this practice can be recommended; the only trouble is that such ambitious lads are now scarce, and the ships are scarcer still.
Captain Nichols had a pleasant way of coming up, especially during the second dog watch, after the mellowing influence of a Chow dinner, cabin style, and conversing for a minute or two. He would let drop a hint as to where we were andsometimes give me sights to work out. While we were making such heavy weather of it and the wheel was hard to manage, he told a story calculated to make me anything but cheerful. The ship had yawed and the slap of the rudder sent the wheel over against all the "beef" I could bring to bear. Then suddenly, when the pressure shifted to the other side, the wheel came back with the kick of a stubborn mule, and I was bodily lifted off my feet, saving my head by doubling about the spindle.
"Look out, son!" shouted the Old Man. "I had a sailor thrown up against the top of the wheelhouse once and his skull bashed in. That was his last trick at the wheel. You better be careful."
Atthis stage of the voyage hardship had become a habit; rotten tack and half-cooked cracker hash all went the same way; we were toughened to the grind. A mess of weevil-ridden hard bread was disposed of by knocking the worms out and eating what was left, the crumby, mealy stuff, soggy with damp, was often made more palatable by heating in the galley with a sprinkle of molasses or a coating of our abundant sugar. The working of the ship was done in grilling discomfort of wet clothing, and the cold added its quota to our troubles day after day. But for all that we were living. The scenes of wild fury that only those who have run before it in the latitudes of Cape Horn can understand, spread about us in a fitting panorama to the tragedy of suffering on our half-drowned deck. Surely the angels must have wondered at the vast ambition of men who dared such dangers and lived such hardships; all of which vast ambition couldbe summed up in one sentence—the pay of an able seaman out of the port of New York—eighteen dollars per month, minus "advance" and the deduction for "slops," leaving the net earning in the neighborhood of ten or eleven dollars.
We were getting our romance in the raw, however, and, like most things in this world, we were paying for the show—working our way—through experiences that only those who go down to the sea in deepwater sailing ships know anything about.
Endless rows of mighty snarling combers, the howl of sleet-laden wind tearing through the glistening gear aloft, and the blind rush of snowstorms, crusting everything with a powdering of white, gave us a real taste of weather such as I had never experienced before.
"Thank God we are going before it, and not trying to beat back," said Hitchen to me one night, as he came aft to relieve me at the wheel.
John Aahee, of the starboard watch, disappeared and we thought he had been lost overboard. For two days we missed him and kept the news from Black Joe and Kahemuku, who were in a state of low spirits, where the loss of Aahee would have well-nigh proved fatal. On the third day after the absence of John he suddenlyreappeared, when the boys of our watch heard a loud knocking on the under side of the forehatch. Having enjoyed a two days' sleep on the sugar in the 'tween deck, he climbed in by way of the forepeak, which had been opened in order to rouse up a barrel of saltpork.
The mate threatened to put him in irons for shirking duty and promised all sorts of dire punishment. However, the poor Kanaka was so far gone that it seemed he never would survive, and I believe he was positively numb when the mate made him finish out the last two hours of the watch on deck by bending over the bilge pump, "to get the sleep out of your eyes, you —— black."
July Fourth found us nearing the end of our southing. We experienced a moderation in the weather, and set the fore and main t'gans'ls. The fore t'gans'l split during a squall that blew up before it had been set an hour, and we at once got busy in sending down this rag and bending another sail which went with a loud "bang!" during the midwatch, Second Mate Tom being on deck and Captain Nichols pacing up and down on the forward side of the wheelhouse.
"There she goes again!" we heard them shouting out on deck, amid the din of wind and thebooming of the seas as they fanned away from the flare of our bows, when her head doused down into the back of a roller. The report as the new canvas split was sharp and characteristic, waking most of us, as it was directly overhead.
"I hope they don't call us out," was the thought expressed by all; we plunked down in our blankets with a will as though we were going to wring every last fraction of sleep out of each precious second of the few hours of the watch.
Our days were becoming more than merely strenuous, they were of that dead level of sustained hardship where the senses cease to register the added kicks, but go on in a sort of merciful anesthesia, no doubt brought about by the toxic action of prolonged fatigue.
On the glorious Fourth, Chow had spread himself to the extent of favoring the fo'c'sle mess with two large pans of gingerbread, nicely cut into squares, so that everyone would get his lawful whack. This gingerbread was a special stunt in baking such as I have never seen its like before or since. The top crust was flexible, and leathery, of a deep seal brown. The bottom was hard and usually well burnt. By grabbing the top crust and the bottom, the middle portion could be made to stretch at least twice its size andthen broken apart, but long strings like cobwebs would connect the two halves. We blamed it for the boils that appeared on most of us toward the end of each passage, for Chow liked to bake it, and we had it at least once a week or oftener.
Poor Frenchy was taken sick during those dismal days, and when he mustered aft one dog watch, and promptly swooned, we picked our shipmate up and carried him to his bunk with heavy hearts. If gloom could kill a man, Frenchy would have cashed in his record during the next few days. The fo'c'sle was as sad a hole as a man could think of. Captain Nichols came forward and examined Frenchy during our watch on deck. This was a sort of concession to the proprieties, as he only came forward of the main hatch one other time on the voyage that I can recall. After his professional visit the steward called me aft and handed me a large tumbler full of a dark liquid called "black draft" by Australia; it had marvelous cathartic power. I was instructed to give this to Frenchy at one dose. What it did to him in his weakened state can be imagined.
The next day the mate came to the fo'c'sle and examined the sick man and reported aft. Frenchy had said he was much better, which was a lie,but a wise one. I then prevailed upon Chow to give me some cabin stew that he was preparing, and with this under his belt and a hook pot of coffee, cabin style, Frenchy felt better. I also broke out a set of brand-new underwear that I had been saving against an emergency. It was extra heavy, and with this on him and the good food, he felt like a new man. Chow fed Frenchy for three days, and fed him well, after I had prevailed upon Chips to give him the parrot, Jake. Fortunately Frenchy recovered before Jake got in his fine work in the galley, for in less than a week the latter was back under the fo'c'sle head again, having started his talk about "to hell with the grub," etc. This was more than Chow could stand, and one night his cage shot out of the lee door of the galley amid a series of quirks and screeches, and Fred rescued the bird from a comber that was about to curl over the bulwark.
Our precautions in the way of preventer gear and rolling tackles were employed as on the passage out, and the relieving tackles were hooked to the tiller in the after wheelhouse. Captain Nichols also had two heavy hawsers bighted about the base of the mizzen mast and flaked down on the cabin top ready to pay out through the quarterchocks should we by any chance broach to. At the end of these we had constructed two improvised sea anchors or drags. Under ordinary circumstances we would have been hove to in such weather as we were having, but the wind was fair and the captain determined to run before it as long as possible.
Discomfort and hardship on board were not altogether confined to the fo'c'sle. The after cabin was washed out a number of times and the mate was swamped by the seas backing up in the waist and running over the sills of the cabin doors. Mr. Zerk was much less violent during the stormy days. The hard drive to the south and east put a feeling of common danger into the minds of all; it had a very beneficial effect. So far as the psychic aspects of the voyage went, we were happy.
Also, we were, with the possible exception of Black Joe and Kahemuku of our watch, and the unfortunate Aahee of starboard, a very ready and smart crowd. When I say possible exception in referring to the Kanakas I mean that these unhappy people were always running with the crowd, and while always in the way they bent what beef they had to any gear we might be hauling on. Sailors have a weird wail, or dirge, withoutwords, to which they sway at brace or halyards and Black Joe became proficient in this, throwing his whole spirit into the thing. Even in those days of actuality the perfect picture of glistening oilskins and the splashing sea, with the human cry of labor mounting above the snap of the storm, was driven home to me—and I was mighty wet and tired, too.
On July tenth we were still going large before a heavy sea. Second Mate Tom was on deck in the afternoon watch and, the wind having moderated some, his crowd were aloft shaking the reef out of the fore upper tops'l. Aahee was on the lee yardarm and as the sail dropped a squall of wind slapped along suddenly, and he, holding on to the jackstay with all of his might, turned a complete somersault as his heavy boots shot up from the footrope. He was wrenched from the yard, his body struck the belly of the reefed foresail and dashed into the sea. Some claimed he also struck one of the jib boom guys.
All hands were called and the ship hove to. Mr. Zerk stormed out on deck mad clean through, and Captain Nichols conned the wheel, myself and another man from starboard being at the spokes. A half barrel of oil was broached into the sea as we braced sharp and put down thehelm, manning the lee fore braces with great speed. The main spencer was hauled out and reefed spanker set while we braced sharp forward. Mr. Morstad had thrown over two life buoys, but we could not see either one of them. As we hove to the seas swept over us with redoubled fury, the racket aloft being frightful. We then realized how hard it was blowing. Captain Nichols estimated it at from 9 to 10 on the Beaufort Scale,[9]and theFullerbore down almost on her beam ends.
To launch a boat would have been madness and we watched the sea for a sight of Aahee or of the life buoys, all, however, without success, as no doubt he had drowned at once and the buoys were several miles to windward, while we were drifting off faster than they.
Once hove to we shortened down for the nightunder lower tops'ls and storm stays'ls. The death of Aahee was tragic in the extreme; Kahemuku cried in his bunk, and no means could be found to stop him. Black Joe said nothing, he ate in silence, and when we went below he turned in without a word.
They were one less to starboard; only a weak brown man gone, a poor piece of human wreckage washed loose from that plaything of the storm, a ship at sea.
FollowingFrenchy's sickness, Australia and I chummed together as Frenchy, by common consent, was allowed to perch on a coil of rope on the main hatch just forward of the mast during the night watches, the mate winking at this whenever the weather was not too bad.
Australia
On such nights Australia and I would stump the wet deck and we got to be very good friends. Unlike so many of the crew, I remember his name, John Roth, and from what he told me at various times I knew that he had come from a good family, as such things go, people in easy circumstances. His grandfather had settled in England, coming originally from southern Germany, and his father had taken over and extended a business founded at that time. Roth had received a good education, evidently, though he was of a shiftless temperament and his talk savored of the fo'c'sle and not the schools. He unburdenedhimself as we tramped the deck and I found him to be a charming companion and much deeper than was my idea of the devil-may-care deserter from theFalls of Ettrick, who had impressed me as a sort of scatterbrained ne'er-do-well, when we first bumped against each other in the fo'c'sle of theFuller, for my bunk was ahead of his, as we settled down in that first mixup, months before.
"I'll tell you, Felix, there's lots of blokes who have had less chances than me, and is well off today. I always got in the way of trouble and you bet trouble never missed me once."
This sounded like something new, so I kept my mouth closed instead of replying after the usual manner of deck chums making conversation.
"When my father died," went on Australia, after a long pause, "my brother took the management of the business. He was in the building trade and doing very well at it, supporting mother, two sisters, brother and myself. My brother James had quit school and was helping father at the time of his death. I was at school near Winchester, much to my disgust, for I hated school and wanted to go to sea." Australia paused. He was strangely sober and we paced on deck for a turn or two in silence. Then he continued, and I remember how his words cameslowly but with a long-forgotten attention to choice and grammar.
"On the settlement of the estate of my father a small legacy of four hundred pounds was left me, and with the business safe in the care of my brother I felt at liberty to quit school and go to sea. I had an idea that I would settle down somewhere with my money and be a gentleman planter, or something like that. At any rate, I cashed in and, with more money in my pocket than was good for me, put to sea in the fo'c'sle of a ship out of London bound for Melbourne. I'll call her theIverclyde, that's near enough. They shipped me 'ordinary,' and when I handed the mate a five-quid note, as I asked for the job, he was sure he had hooked a fool, or a lunatic. The rest of my fortune I carried in a wallet in the bottom of my chest, a place no one would ever think of searching for money.
"TheIverclydewas an iron ship, a wet ship, if you know what I mean. We was drowned and we was starved, but never overworked. Once the crowd went aft and told the mate they wanted to put the main topgans'l on her, as she was rolling so. The mate he says, 'All right, Bo'sun, set the main topgallant sail,' and that is the way we worked.
"We ran into Table Bay, with a sprung bowsprit, lifted loose of the gammoning when she was taken aback while the mate was sleeping against the binnacle. This was my chance, and by use of another note, I got smuggled ashore with a suit of dirty dungaree and a big bundle of damp Bank of England notes, leaving the rest of my kit behind. I soon got some decent clothes, and put up at the Royal Hotel. The life in Cape Town suited me, I made friends among a fast bunch, spent the filthy, and enjoyed the air of mystery that surrounded me. No one ever suspected that I was from theIverclyde, though I saw our captain walk by the hotel once; in fact I was very safe there.
"Shortly after the ship left, I found that I was being shadowed. Some bloke was always in my wake. I tried to get him and blow him to a dog watch of drinks and find out his game, but it was no use. When they saw I was on to them, for they watched every move I made, and I was spending free, the gentleman aft gives the signal and I am arrested. It seems that an embezzler was wanted and they had me spotted for the game. Not knowing the lay they was on, I did not get my story straight at first, thinking they was still after me for deserting theIverclyde.This was bad. They chucked me in jail and kept me there for three months, lifting what was left of my wad. 'I say, is this all that's left?' the officer exclaims, counting the notes. They expected to pick up about ten thousand pounds.
"When the correctness of my story was proved, they let me go. I heard that the blackleg they was after was caught in Calcutta.
"Sure, they let me out and gave me what was left of my wad. Almost half gone, but then I had three months of lodging and tucker free and a little over two hundred saved. I was a wiser one after that, but I was still a fool, which was something I did not find out till later.
"In order to get away from Cape Town, and at the same time follow my idea of settling down in some warm climate where a man can become a planter and have a lot of blacks do the work for him, I shipped before the mast on the Dutch barkJava, out of Amsterdam, bound for Batavia. This craft had put in short of water and several hands who had died on the passage down to the Cape. TheJavawas unlucky. The most unlucky tub that ever sailed, except theFlying Dutchman, but unlucky enough for any real ship. We winds up in a typhoon, a hundred miles west of the Sunda Strait. The masts went by the board and at theend of the blow, after two days of pumping and praying, a steamer picks us up. She was bound for Singapore. The second mate of the steamer, a young fellow from London, decided he wanted to work theJavainto port, his idea being Anjer. The skipper says 'all right' and he called for volunteers. As I said, I was still a fool, so I joined five other men and with the young second mate we was put on board theJava; I was the only one of her own crew and this scared me. Them Dutchmen knew when they were well off; and they stayed aboard the steamer.
"The second mate of the steamer did not know exactly what to do. He said, 'We will get up a jury mast,' but there was nothing to make a jury mast out of. The steamer was far down on the horizon when we found by sounding the well that the old tub was gaining water fast. After that we did nothing but pump. We pumps for the best part of a week. I don't remember what we ate, or if we did not eat. The crowd on board curses our young skipper, and pumps. They kept on pumping because we found the long boat that we depended upon stove in and all of the thwarts smashed.
"At the end of the week another blow comes up from the West. 'So long, good old LondonTown,' one of our fellows sings out. 'The hell with dyin' tired,' and he drops the pump handle and sits down. We all do the same, and the second mate, who took his trick along with the rest, says, 'I guess you are right; we might as well rest a bit before swimming.'
"We rested all afternoon and till late at night. I had my wad in a pouch at my belt and each of us had two life belts. We ate a little; the young second mate found a small beaker of rum in the cabin and we had some of that, and some hard bread and a hunk of cheese. I drank very little rum; I was afraid of going to sleep.
"At about midnight we caught the beach. We were in the breakers before we knew it and when she struck, the sea breached over her and away we went. I lost my two life belts the first thing and made up my mind to die, but I held my breath. Might as well die with my lungs full of air I figured as I went over and over. The water was warm, and I did not mind it. Before I knew where I was, I washed up on the beach and was lucky enough to get clear of the undertow. All I had on was a pair of torn pants and my belt with the soaked notes. Not a sign was to be had of any of the salvage crew, and the beach for miles was strewn with bits of wreckage. Atdaylight I was met by a man coming out from behind a clump of small trees. He was dressed in dirty white clothes and had a young beard. I told him the yarn of the wreck and asked him where I was. He directed me to Anjer, about thirty miles east along the coast. I asked him if he could give me some clothes. He said yes, if I would wait where I was he would be back in about two hours.
"Well, to make a long story short, as they say, I waited, being a natural born fool and not knowing any better. Still," and Australia paused in his extraordinary tale, "I don't think anyone else would have done different. I was so glad about meeting this man that I carefully unrolled a wet five-pound note and set it out on a rock to dry, weighting it with a little stone. I wanted to square him for his trouble.
"About noon my man shows up. He has a suit of white cotton clothes that were not any too new, a pair of shoes, brogans, they call them, and a straw sun helmet. He also gave me a half loaf of bread, after I handed him the five-quid note. This took his breath away, so he got reckless.
"About two miles out of Anjer I was met by two constables. They ran at me so fast that I knew there was something wrong and before Icould say Jack Robinson they had the bracelets on me, and was going through my pockets for weapons. They got the wad, and that settled me. 'Gawd,' I says, 'what am I in for now?' My clothes was stripped off of me in the jail, and took as evidence, I found out later. When my shoes came off, my left foot, for I wore no sox, was a dull red, like rust—this was blood.
"'You are charged with murdering the keeper of the Fourth Point Light!'
"'Great Gawd!' I cries, 'what next!'
"Well, they has me, and no mistake. I am a British subject and I set up a roar. The Consul was called, and I tried my best to get him to believe my story. It was no go. 'Bally rot!' he says.
"I was sent to Batavia, and held for murder. Fortunately my story about what happened in Cape Town was verified in an unexpected manner or things would have gone hard with me. What saved me was a newspaper story of my jail term in that port, my belt of money, and my hard luck in being taken for the crook. This tallied with my yarn when I gave an account of myself, and the fact that theJavahad sailed, as I said, and the story of the salvage crew put on her, sent on from Singapore when the steamerarrived, helped me. The British Consul took up matters, and by spending the greater part of what I had left, funds that were again at my disposal, I cleared myself. However, in the meantime, my people in England had got the story of my being a murderer with full details of the horrible deed. It killed my mother, who was in feeble health. Nothing of the clearing up ever reached the other members of my family and to them I am a murderer to this day.
"I left Batavia on a tramp steamer bound for Sydney, a wiser young fellow than ever before, also a much poorer one, for I had just two pounds in my pocket when I went ashore.
"My narrow escapes had the effect of making me restless. In the next two years I worked at every trade and calling that I could lay my hands to. I tried sheepherding, I went into the bush and tried farming, working as a laborer. I worked as a blacksmith in Sydney after picking up something of the trade travelling with a small circus. In Melbourne I started a very good business in peddling milk. I gave this up as soon as it began to pay me and I could afford the help to make it easier. Again I shipped to sea. News of my mother's death had reached me, and I worked my way back to England. My brotherhad married and would have nothing to do with me. My name was never mentioned in his home. Both of my sisters had married and moved away, one to Scotland and one to America—Canada, I think. Then I went to Liverpool and shipped on the iron barkFalls of Ettrick. Now that is my story. Rotten, eh? Well, I hope some day to settle down, and quit this thing for good. I have cheated the rope out of a good stiff by helping along the murderer with five-quid, and nearly paid for it with my own neck; I almost got mine a number of times before and since. If I had a decent chance I could make good, if I only could settle down and stick."
"You ought to get married; that would settle you, Australia, old boy," I offered, somewhat taken aback at the recital, for it was poured out from the heart. I knew that a strange sort of adventurer was telling me the things closest to his soul. What I said jarred.
"Married? Say, kid, I've tried that game. Yes, sir, I've been married twice, and I suppose they could jail me for that, too."
"Twice?"
"You bet. Once in Melbourne, and again in London, when I came home and found I was a murderer yet."
"What happened to your wives?"
"I don't know. Guess they are married again, leastways the one in London is. She was no good. Thought I was a rich bushman and wanted to get in on the wad. But the wife in Melbourne was decent. I should have stuck; that was when I was in the milk business." Australia paused. "I hope she sold that for a decent figure. You see she was expecting something, and—oh, rats—what am I saying——"
"Weather main brace!" sang out the mate, and in a moment we were tailing to the rope, and Fred and Black Joe were wailing in the night as we swigged at it. The watch was nearly over and Mr. Zerk was working the sleep out of us. As for me, I was wide awake. Australia never mentioned his story again, except to say in an offhand way that it was all a lie about being married twice. "I just wanted to see how far I could go with you," he said.
Australia was a wiry chap of medium size, full of life and a distinct ornament to the fo'c'sle. He was never at a loss for a witty retort and his sallies at the expense of the mate—during the watch below of course—furnished endless amusement. He always shaved in port except for a diminutive mustache, but at sea he sported a growth of beard,merely trimming this with a large pair of scissors such as tailors use for cutting heavy cloth, a murderous weapon that he carried in a canvas sheath nailed to the inside cover of his sea chest.
Unlike sailors on shorter runs, and that hybrid animal, the deckhand in steam, the sailor on board a deepwater ship has a sense of home. He occupies the same bunk for a year or more at a time, and in spite of the way he is robbed, or perhaps I should say, was robbed, he carried a small accumulation of household goods, things that the crimps and boarding masters did not consider worth while stealing. Every bunk in a measure reflected the personal taste of the owner.
Australia was one of the few men on board theFullerwho owned a mirror. When he wanted to nail this up under the lamp in the fo'c'sle, there was a storm of protest, and the damning implement of an effete civilization was again restored to his chest. A mirror was only permissible on rare occasions when a man shaved; otherwise it was taboo.
"Diego Ramirezahead, a point on the port bow!" This was the news that greeted us as we turned out on the morning of July 17th, 1898. It was Sunday, cloudy, but clear, one of the first days without snow or hail since the fourth of July. Off to the E. S. E. was a sail and by the long time it took us to raise her we knew she too was a homeward bounder.
The morning watch had set all of the tops'ls, shaking the reefs out of the fore and main, and we were sent aloft to loose the main t'gans'l, sheeting home and hoisting away with a will. As we raced along under the lowering gray, the rocky islands of Diego Ramirez stood out with the distinctness of cameos cut against the light skyline to the northeast. The breaking and dashing of the white frothy seas marked them well and served to remind us that we were plowing in a fairish sort of a seaway ourselves. Our added sail made the riding better and we hove the logafter getting the t'gans'l on, showing a speed of ten knots.