"Merrily, merrily on we sail!
The sailor's life is gay!
His hopes are on the favouring gale,
And whether it freshens, or whether it fail
He recks not, cares not, no not he;
For his hope is ever upon the sea."
SARAWAK.--LABUAN.--MANILLA.--HEAVY WEATHER.
December 5th.--At 4 p.m. the anchor was hove short for our voyage to
Hong Kong, by way of Manilla. As we start some days sooner than we
anticipated, we had made no provision for getting our washed clothes on
board, and grave fears are entertained that we shall be compelled to
sail without it, for as yet there is not so much as the ghost of a
washerwoman in sight. Will they, can they by any fortuitous combination
of circumstances, put in an appearance before we leave? Despair, we are
off! But surely no, it can't be? Yes, by jove, there are boats pulling
after us with all the might the rowers can command. We lie to, the proas
come nearer. Hurrah! the clothes, some wholly washed, some half-washed,
and some not washed at all. Piles of fair white linen are bundled up
the gangway pell-mell, Malay washerwomen bundled _out_ ditto, and for
payment, the revolving screws settle that in a highly satisfactory
manner.
With the "Lapwing" in tow, and the gentlest of breezes filling the
lighter canvas, we shape our course eastward.
December 8th.--Late in the afternoon we brought up in the roadstead of
Sarawak, on the northern coast of Borneo. The place is not at all
enlivening; neither house, human being, nor boat, to indicate we are in
habitable land. The town itself, the capital of a small rajahship
governed by an Englishman, lies some twenty miles up a river, in the
estuary of which we are anchored. The province was presented by the
Sultan of Borneo, in 1843, to Sir James Brooke, uncle of the present
proprietor, who, on the decease of Sir James, in 1868, succeeded to the
territory.
Here the "Lapwing," after having taken the admiral up the river, parted
company, whilst we continued our way along the Bornean shore.
December 12th.--We awoke to find ourselves in the midst of a labyrinth
of isles most wonderful to behold, vaguely guessing which, out of so
many, can be Labuan. The rattling of the chain through the hawse,
decides it. A small settlement over which England's flag keeps guard,
lies before us. This is the town of Victoria. This small island,
previous to 1846, belonged to Borneo, but in that year the Sultan ceded
it to Britain, as a convenient station for checking piracy on his
sea-board. It lies off the north-eastern end of the great island of
Borneo, and within view of its precipitous heights and mist-clad peaks.
December 14th.--Coaling is a long process at Labuan, first, because the
ship lies so far from the shore, and next, because of the insufficiency
of convenient boats, and the necessary coolie labour to put the coal on
board, thus it took us two whole days to get in as many hundred tons. By
the evening of the 14th however, we had cleared the islands, and shaped
course for Manilla against a head wind.
December 19th.--It has taken us twelve hours to clear the intricate, and
gusty approaches to Manilla Bay, the wind, occasionally meeting us with
such force, accompanied by such a chopping sea, that we sometimes made
no progress at all. On coming to anchor we were rather surprised to find
the "Lapwing" had preceded us, and was lying close in shore.
Manilla, the capital of Luzon, the largest of the Philippine Islands, is
a city of considerable magnitude, and has all the appearance of a
Spanish town in Europe, these islands having belonged to Spain for over
300 years.
Though we arrived on a Sunday it was anticipated there would be no
difficulty in procuring coal immediately. Had the British been in
authority here we should have been _privileged_ to do so with impunity.
When this conclusion was arrived at, one potent factor had not been
considered--"the Church"--and for once in a way we were thankful to the
Church. The archbishop of Manilla and his subordinates hold more real
sway over the minds and bodies of the natives--Indians, as they are
called--than all the temporal power of the governor, backed by his
guards, or even than the king himself.
Amidst all the Spanish jabber around, it is refreshing to hear ourselves
hailed in genuine English, and soon the author of the sound grasps us by
the hand and welcomes us to his house, a request we gladly comply with.
The houses are very like those of Gibraltar, and one's memory is rapidly
borne back to the "Rock," especially as everything around is Spanish.
Perhaps the great feature of the place is its cathedrals; one in
particular, a magnificent structure, so roomy and lofty that I should
think half the devout of the city could find accommodation therein. In
less than two years subsequent to our visit the whole of this grand pile
was little better than a heap of ruins, from an earthquake wave which
passed over these islands. This most terrible of natural phenomena is of
frequent occurrence in this quarter of the world. In many parts of the
city we observed whole streets and churches in ruins, as if from a
recent bombardment.
Cock-fighting is the great national sport, amusement, or cruelty, which
of the three you will, indulged in by the good people of Manilla.
Everywhere along the streets you may meet Spanish boys and half castes,
with each his bird tucked under his arm ready for the combat, should the
chance passer-by make it worth their while.
The best place to witness this propensity for blood, which seems in-born
in every Spaniard, is at the public arena in the heart of the city,
where hundreds of cocks are generally engaged at once, the betting on a
certain bird not unfrequently amounting to thousands of dollars. I will
not trouble you with the sickening details of the scene I witnessed--to
my shame I say it--I think few of those who are present at a first
exhibition of this cruel and useless sport will be desirous of
witnessing a second--except he be a man of a morbid inclination. One may
be impelled by curiosity to satisfy a human weakness, but every rightly
balanced mind will turn from the scene with feelings of repugnance and
disgust.
December 23rd.--The last day of our stay, and the last opportunity we
shall have for laying in stock for the 25th. In the afternoon the
caterers of messes having been accorded the necessary permission, went
on shore to make a general clearance in the Manilla markets. There was
every prospect, when they left the ship, of the day continuing fine--a
bright sun and a clear sky above, and a smooth sea below. Unfortunately
for the success of the expedition, this happy meteoric combination did
not continue. The heavens began to frown, and the sea--ever jealous of
its sister's moods--put on a restless appearance. At sun-down the wind
suddenly rose to half a gale, with a cross lumpy sea and drenching
showers of rain. The accommodation for the men to return to the ship was
degrees from being called even fair. They had hired a rickety steam
launch, scarcely capable of holding her own in ordinary weather, and two
smaller boats, or gigs, neither of which was in a seaworthy condition;
and in these was to be found room for upwards of forty men, besides
about a ton of provisions of all kinds. It was evident, or ought to have
been, that it was madness to attempt leaving the shore whilst the
present weather lasted. I have seen the offence of breaking leave
justified for less boisterous weather. Orders, however, (especially
sailing orders) are imperative; so the flotilla put off at 7 p.m. in tow
of the launch. The following was the arrangement:--The launch, laden
far below her bearings, took the lead; the second boat contained all the
heaviest provisions--flour, pigs, poultry, potatoes, and such like;
whilst far too many men had stowed themselves in the third boat, to give
but the faintest idea of either comfort or safety.
When about half-way to the ship, the painter of the hindmost boat
parted, and the launch, rounding to, to her assistance narrowly escaped
swamping. The next mishap chanced to the second boat--the provision
gig--whose stem piece was tugged completely out of her, and the two
sides, having thus lost their mutual support, parted and went to the
bottom, the onlookers having to endure the melancholy sight of
witnessing all their good things going to fatten old Davy Jones, or to
fill his lockers, or something of that sort. But the distress of these
very distressed mariners was not yet complete; a strange fatality seemed
to have embarked with them. It was now the launch's turn: first the
third boat, next the second, and now the launch in proper, though
fortunately not arithmetical progression. It was discovered that the
supply of coal could not possibly last to the ship! What was to be done?
"Opportunity," it is said, "makes the thief;" it may be also said, with
equal truth, that opportunity makes the dormant abilities of some men to
soar above their fellows, over-riding even destiny itself. The Spanish
crew of the launch were unequal to the emergency, were worse than
useless in fact; but an able substitute for the engineer was found in
Andrews, one of our leading stokers; and for coxswain, who better than
Law, the boatswain's mate? The former of these at once directed
everybody to pull the inner wood work of the launch to pieces, and, as
the bump of destructiveness has its full development in the sailor
phrenology, he had not long to wait for his fuel; thus they managed to
reach the ship full six hours after they had left the shore.
December 25th.--Christmas in merry England is one thing; Christmas in a
gale in the China Sea another, and so distinct a thing as scarcely to be
confounded with the former. But let us see if we can tell our friends
something about it. Considering the shortcomings we had to put up
with--bare tables, hungry bellies, and the lively movements of our ship,
consequent on a rising malevolent sea--I think we managed to enjoy a
fair amount of fun, whether it was genuine or not is another point, nor
would I like to vouch for its being altogether devoid of irony. "Father
Christmas" paid us his customary visit anyway, in his mantle of
snow--fancy snow within fifteen degrees of the line!--which merry,
rubicund, and very ancient man was ably personated by a gigantic marine,
the necessary barrel-like proportions being conveyed by a feather
pillow.
"A hungry man is an angry one;" so runs the legend, but, if true, and I
have every reason to believe that it is, it held not on the lower deck
of the "Iron Duke" this day, for _no_ man was angry, and _every_ man
_was_ hungry, not counting some who had their heads down the lee
scuppers. Altogether the day passed very smoothly inboard, though
outside a storm was hurrying on us with gigantic strides.
December 26th.--The overcast sky of last night was indeed a precursor of
what was to follow. About midnight the wind freshened into a full gale,
the first we have encountered since leaving England. It gave us a proper
shaking down into our places. The sea became wild and mountainous, the
wind shrieking and vicious, and as to hold our course we had to stem its
full fury, it was found impossible to keep the ship head on except at a
much greater consumption of coal than we were prepared to use. Crash!
What's gone? The jib-boom and all its appurtenances. The wrecked spar
falling athwart the ram remained there for hours, proving a most
difficult obstacle to clear away in such a whirl as was going on in the
neighbourhood of our bows.
But there were no signs of the gale moderating, and the admiral deeming,
I suppose, the present state of things far from satisfactory determined
on putting back to Manilla. The ship was brought around, or "wore" as
nautical men term it, an evolution which, though not of difficult
accomplishment, at a certain moment in its progress leaves the vessel
completely helpless in the trough of the sea, a fact you all know far
better than myself, I only touch upon it to hint what the result must be
to such a cumbersome mass as our iron hull. As we broached to, it became
a matter of holding on to everything, and by everything--eyebrows and
all--especially between decks. Delightful times these for ditty boxes,
crockery, bread barges, and slush tubs; 'tis their only chance for
enjoyment and they make the most of it. Such revelry generally winds up
with a grand crash somewhere in the vicinity of the iron combings to the
hatchways. Any plates left, any basins? Nay, that would be to ask too
much of the potter's art. At length we are put round, and running back
to Manilla under all the canvas we dare shew.
December 31st.--Completed with coal and left on a fresh attempt to
reach Hong Kong, the black and lowering sky suggesting either the
continuation of, or the sequel to, the late stormy weather. Being New
Year's Eve the usual attempt at a tin-pot band was made to make the
night hideous. Setting aside the annoyance of this species of rowdyism
to the less exuberant spirits amongst us, the noise would be most
unseemly with the commander-in-chief on board, and it says much for the
would-be musicians that they saw it in this light.
We reached the northern point of Luzon without mishap, and stood away
with a heavy cross-sea for Hong Kong, arriving on January 4th, 1879.