that evening Dr. Davis had recovered sufficiently to again venture on
deck. It was Gantline’s dog-watch, but as there was as much light as
there had been during the day, Dr. Davis kept him company.
“Mr. Garnett is a very hard man to convince when he has once set his
mind against a thing,” said the minister. “There’s no way of showing him
he is wrong when he has made a mistake.”
“That’s true enough, especially if you try to rough him. He’s mad to-day
because the skipper found fault with his swearing at the men.”
“He does swear most horribly,” said Dr. Davis.
“It’s nothing to what he used to. He don’t realize he does it at all
now.”
“How do you mean?”
“Why, he used to be a most blasphemous old cuss. One day he went ashore
at Tinian, and the missionary there asked him to dinner. When he asked
Garnett what he would have he sung out, ‘Gimme a bowl of blood, ye tough
old ram of the Lord,’ just to shock the good man. The missionary rose
and ordered him out of the house, but Garnett wouldn’t go, so he struck
him over the head with a dish of fried plantains, he was that mad.
Garnett was two days getting over the stroke, for he had been stove down
before by a handspike in the hands of a drunken sailor. He always
thought the good man had called a curse down upon him, and since then
he’s been slow at figures.”
“I see,” said Dr. Davis.
“Yes, it’s a fact, you’ve got to show a thing pretty plain to Garnett
before he believes it. As to that missionary, he wasn’t overbright at
converting savages.”
“What do you mean? That he wasn’t strong enough physically?”
“No, no, love ye, no; that missionary could take care of himself and not
half try. What I mean is downright religious and Christian argument.
There was one chief he never could convert. The fellow had an idol, the
most uncanny thing I ever saw; sort of half bird, half beast, part fish,
and having a strain of dragon. He used to pray to the thing, although he
could speak English well enough and had seen plenty of white men. The
missionary told him it was wrong to worship anything in an image of
things in the heavens above, the earth beneath, or waters under the
earth, and the chief took it all kindly. The good man finally gave him
up, but the chief never could tell why. Once he offered to bet the
missionary two wives against a bottle of rum that there wasn’t anything
in the heavens above or earth beneath that resembled the strange thing
in any way; and as the good man couldn’t prove it, the matter ended.”
The gale increased as the night wore on, and the vessel lay to on the
port tack and drifted off with her head pointing northwest by north, but
she was to the westward of the Ramirez. It was Garnett’s watch and the
skipper was below. The ship was driving off to leeward, and the skipper
determined to wear ship and stand to the southward again if she was
headed off any farther. Garnett had orders to report any change which
might take place.
The old mate had a chart in his room with the variation marked on it
above the fiftieth parallel, some ten degrees less than where he now
was. But even this variation appeared excessive to him, and, as the
skipper told him to report if the vessel’s head fell off to the eastward
of north, he held on. Figuring on a two-knot drift, he would not be in
the vicinity of the rocks during his watch even if she headed as far as
north by west, for at noon she had made a good westing.
The ship’s head was to the eastward at four bells, but, as there was
really over twenty degrees’ variation, Garnett held on and made sail
whenever he could. Long before his watch was out the vessel had been
making little leeway and reaching heavily along under lower topsails. At
seven bells the wind hauled again to the southward and came harder than
ever, carrying the foretop-sail out of the bolt-ropes.
The noise of bawling men brought the skipper on deck, and he had the
mizzentop-sail rolled up and the fore-staysail ready for waring ship.
While he stood on the poop he looked to leeward. The mist seemed to
break into rifts in the dull light of the early morning, and through one
he saw an object that made him catch his breath. In an instant the
flying spume closed in again and all was blank.
Garnett came aft, and, although it was cold, he took off his sou’wester
and mopped the top of his bald head as he glanced at the skipper. The
old man stood petrified gazing into the blank to leeward. Then he turned
on the mate with a savage glare in his eye. “Get all hands on that
fore-staysail, quick!” he roared, and Garnett went plunging forward, the
skipper’s voice following him and rising almost to a shriek,--“Loose the
jib and foresail!” Then turning, he dashed for the wheel and rolled it
hard up. Back again on the poop he roared to Gantline, who came plunging
out on the main-deck to loose the foretop-sail.
The men started to obey orders and sprang to the halyards and braces,
looking over their shoulders to leeward at each roll of the ship to find
out the cause of the excitement.
Suddenly the flying spume broke again, and there, dead under the lee,
lay the outer rocks of the Ramirez not a mile distant. Then some of the
crew became panic-stricken, and it was all the mates could do to keep
them in hand.
“There’s no land there!” roared Garnett “H’ist away the fore-staysail.”
Then the ship’s head paid off, while the staysail tore to ribbons under
the pressure. The topsail was loosened, and it thundered away to bits,
almost taking the topmast with it. The jib followed suit, but together
they lasted long enough to get her head off before the wind. Then
Garnett, casting off the weather-clew of the reefed foresail, hauled it
down far enough to keep the wind under it, and away they went. In a few
moments her head swung to on the starboard tack, and as they hauled the
wind a deep thunderous sound rose above the gale. The trusty
maintop-sail was trimmed hard on the backstays, and all hands waited
with eyes straining to leeward.
“Will she go clear?” asked Dr. Davis, calmly, as he stood by the
skipper’s side on the poop. But Green’s teeth were shut tight, and the
muscles of his straining face were as taut as the clews of the
storm-topsail. Nearer and nearer sounded that dull, booming thunder, and
now, right under her lee, they could see the great white rush of those
high-rolling seas that tore over the ledges and crashed into a world of
smother that hid everything beyond in a thick haze.
“She’ll go clear,” said Garnett, and he took out his handkerchief and
mopped the dent in his bald head.
“But it’s a d--d close shave,” answered Gantline.
As he spoke a great rolling sea rose on the weather-quarter, lifting
full forty feet from trough to crest as it began its shoreward rush. On
and on it rolled in majestic grandeur, a gigantic, white-topped mass,
until it vanished into the thick haze of flying spray, but still bearing
more and more to the northward. They went clear.
Dr. Davis was not present at a little conversation held between Mr.
Garnett and the skipper some minutes later, but during the mate’s next
watch on deck he found a chance to speak to him. He saw him standing
under the mizzen watching the main-top-sail, and he crowded close into
the mast, wiping his spectacles.
“Well, what do you think of it now?” he asked.
“Nothing,” growled Garnett, “except I made a mistake; and if I’d held on
ten minutes there’d have been thirty more men gone to a lower latitude,
that’s all.”
“But think of the responsibility. How would you have felt with the lives
of thirty men on your conscience? Don’t you see, we have to accept some
truths without stopping to reason them out. There may be no reason for
that variation, but you see it exists, after all. It is the same way in
regard to the duty we owe our Maker, and I am afraid you will
acknowledge it only after you have ‘held on too long,’ as you admit in
this case. As for a man going to a lower latitude, as you call it, there
is no such place. A man’s hell is his own conscience.”
Garnett remained silent for some minutes watching the clews of the
maintop-sail, and appeared to be absorbed in deep thought.
“Maybe you’re right about there not being any hell below, and maybe
you’re not,” he finally said. “I hope you are right; but I’ve had some
experience in my day, and had all kinds of luck, both good and bad. It
don’t seem probable I’d strike it as rich as that. No, sir, it ain’t
probable; though, of course, it’s possible.”
And Dr. Davis left him standing there with a strange, hopeful gleam in
his eyes.
_TO CLIPPERTON REEF_
This rather singular expedition left San Francisco under the direct
charge of Professor Frisbow, of the West Coast Museum. While an entirely
private affair, its object was to secure specimens of several of the
almost extinct species of pelagic fish.
The vessel used for the purpose was a small sealing schooner of about
seventy-five tons, and the crew, including the captain and mate,
consisted of five able-bodied men. The rest of the party were the
professor and myself.
As we were both good sailors, the size of our vessel did not
inconvenience us, so that, after fitting up two state-rooms in the
cabin, we found, although a little crowded, we were as snug “as weevils
in a biscuit”
The wind was blowing almost a gale when we towed out between the heads
of the bay, and as it came from the northwest, a stout pea-coat was far
from uncomfortable while walking the narrow limits of the quarter-deck.
The setting sun shone red on the rolling hill-side of North Head, where
herds of cattle cropped the short grass of the highlands. In the clear
atmosphere small objects were visible with strange distinctness. To the
southward the jets of spray shooting skyward told plainly of the heavy
sea that fell upon the Seal Rocks. Our skipper shook out the double
reef he had in the mainsail and determined to drive his vessel off shore
as far as possible while the fair wind held.
It was nearly dark before the tug gave a short whistle for the men
forward to cast off the tow-line, and as the last light on the western
horizon faded into shadow the head-sheets were flattened and we stood
away to the southwest.
Clipperton Isle or Reef lies 10° 17´ north latitude and 109° 10´ west
longitude. The distance on a straight course being but little over
fifteen hundred miles from our starting-point, but as the northeast
trade is very light and unsteady along the coast of the continent, we
deemed it wiser to take the regular sailing route to the southward and
make our easting afterwards.
The first twenty-four hours out were uncomfortable enough, as the heavy
sea caught us fair on the starboard beam and made the stanch little
vessel roll horribly. Gradually, however, the wind hauled more to the
northward and we made better weather of it. Our Bliss log registered two
hundred and fifty-four miles for the first day’s run, and on the fourth
day out we picked up the trade in 26° north latitude and headed away due
south.
Our reason for selecting this almost unknown spot for our field of
operations was owing, principally, to the reports of the captains of two
whaling ships who had been consulted in regard to our object, and also,
I fear, to the keen desire of my companion, the professor, to explore
this curious island.
Fish of several varieties which we desired to procure abounded along the
southern coast of California, and the California Gulf swarmed with
almost every species of shark except the one we wished for. We had
finally decided, however, to stick to deep water, and had procured the
schooner for a small amount and the services of Captain Brown, an old
whaleman, who had been in the vicinity of the island on several voyages.
During the first week out we had an opportunity to get acquainted with
our skipper, who with his mate occupied the starboard side of the
after-cabin.
Old Captain Brown was a typical whaling skipper and as crusty an old
sailor as one could wish to sail with. He had acquired the true sailor
habit of finding fault with everything, and divided his time between
making sarcastic personal remarks to the mate and cursing the men.
As for Garnett, the mate, I had sailed before in his company and knew
him thoroughly. He had been nearly everything that was bad, and had been
in every part of the world. He was fifty-five and over, but he was one
of the roughest and toughest specimens of humanity, both morally and
physically, I had ever seen. His hairy chest bore a mark where a bullet
had passed through, the calf of his right leg was twisted where a
bayonet had penetrated, for he had been a soldier, and the index-finger
of his left hand was missing. Besides these trifles he had a large
dent, nearly half an inch deep, on the top of his bald head, where a
sailor had “stove him down” with a handspike. This was the only injury
he had received that had ever given him much trouble, and sometimes the
pain in his head affected his eyesight.
In spite of his ugly record and many drawbacks I knew him to be the best
sailor that ever handled canvas and worth a whole ship’s company in an
emergency. Therefore we let the skipper rate him, and while he confined
himself to sarcasm and insolence I believed Garnett would not turn
rusty.
It was not long before Captain Brown found out the mate’s defect in
vision, and at about the same time he was convinced that he was also the
greatest liar afloat. After this he used to amuse us by calling out
“Ship ahoy!” and gazing steadfastly at a part of the blank horizon.
Then, if Garnett was near, he would discuss the ship in detail, and the
mate would swear positively, with great emphasis, “My God! but that’s
the old Moose,” or some other vessel he had sailed in; and then the
skipper would suddenly break off and begin to walk fore and aft with
rapid and excited strides. When he would reach the vicinity of Garnett
he would look up at the main-top-sail and wish to know, in a loud voice,
why in the name of Ananias all the liars were not struck dead. Then he
would storm and swear at all people who ever told the truth, and thank
heaven he never told the truth when he could possibly help it; all of
which noise had about as much effect on Garnett as if he had been
pouring water gently into the dent in his oily bald head.
“Aren’t you afraid to curse and call on the Lord so often?” I asked,
during one of his fits.
“’Fraid o’ nothin’. Do you suppose the Lord minds my cursing at such a
fellow as Garnett? What difference does it make, anyhow? The Lord never
yet answered either prayer or curse of mine.”
“Yes,” I replied, “but Garnett might, and then----”
“He might, might he? Now, by all thunder, I guess not. He might as well
git it through his head that if there’s any swearing to be done I’ll do
it. Yes, sir, I’ll do it, s’help me----” And here he broke off into a
string of such expressive profanity, relating to gods, devils, and men,
that Frisbow came up from below to listen.
On the morning of the tenth day out we crossed the twelfth parallel, and
at noon we hauled our wind and headed straight for the island as located
by Sir Edward Belcher.
On the fifteenth day the wind left us in 10° 43´ north latitude and
about 113° west longitude, or nearly two hundred and fifty miles
westward of the reef. Here we encountered the most trying part of the
whole voyage out. For two days the log registered less than a ten-mile
run, and the four following less than twenty.
Finally, after ten days of drifting, we sighted the island, one bright
morning, almost directly over our knight-heads. As the wind was light,
our skipper feared to approach within less than a mile of the shore, as
there was danger of drifting into the breakers. There were hundreds of
fathoms of water close in near the beach, and it was useless to think of
anchoring, so we hove the vessel to about a mile to leeward.
After setting the shark line the boat was put overboard, and the mate
and one man proceeded to pull us to the shore.
On arriving close to the island the surf was found to be too heavy to
make a safe landing, and we were compelled to pull around to the
entrance of the lagoon on the south side. We landed with little
difficulty inside the entrance, and, securing the boat, proceeded to
explore the reef.
Lying low in the water, it presented a peculiar and, at the same time,
beautiful appearance. No part of it was over ten feet above the sea, and
it lay shaped into a most perfect oval. On the outside of the circle the
beach was of snow-white coral, which, as it sloped away seaward on the
north side, reflected various shades of green and blue through the clear
water.
On the south side the sea had just the faintest milky color, showing
that there was a slight set to the southward.
We devoted the whole day to exploring the reef, and only returned on
board when darkness made the schooner almost invisible.
As we passed through the entrance we made soundings, and found a depth
of five or six fathoms nearly all the way across, or enough water for
quite a large vessel to pass through. On getting aboard we found that
the skipper had caught several desirable specimens for our collection
and had sighted a small sperm-whale about a half a mile to windward just
before dark. This had stirred his blood, and he had been cursing his
luck heartily at our staying ashore in the boat when we might be after
big game, for we had several irons and a few tubs of line on board and
also a bomb-gun.
After supper we were so worked up by listening to Captain Brown’s
whaling yarns that we decided to have a try at the first whale sighted.
At daylight the next morning Garnett sung out to the skipper that there
was something off the weather-beam. We turned out and found the sea just
ruffled by a light air and the sun shining fiercely out of a cloudless
sky. On searching the horizon we found nothing visible except the reef,
which lay some three miles to the northward.
All of a sudden we noticed a blur of white to the westward, and Frisbow
immediately went below for the glasses. Garnett sung out again from
forward and pointed at the blur, then, thinking we could not see
anything, he came aft to where we stood.
By this time both the skipper and Frisbow had their glasses, and were
just in the act of focussing them upon the object when it suddenly
vanished.
Captain Brown began to mutter something about people who saw so many
strange things, and Garnett removed his cap to wipe the perspiration
from the dent in his head.
“What kind of vessel can it be?” asked Frisbow.
“I’ll be hanged if I know,” I answered.
“Might be the Flying Dutchman,” suggested Garnett, with his usual
gravity.
This was too much for the skipper, and he warned Garnett that such jokes
were out of place among intelligent men and liable to be followed by
disastrous consequences, and then added that “Most people knew a whale
when they saw it.” Suddenly the blur appeared again. This time it lasted
for over a minute. It was not a “blow,” and I was just about to ask the
skipper what he made it out to be when he quickly shoved his glass into
my hand and told me to “look quick.”
I did so, and saw that the blur was a great cloud of spray and foam
thrown up from the sea. Instantly a large gray object rose from the
churned water, then fell again in the thick of it, and I recognized the
form of a huge thresher-shark. He appeared to land heavily upon the
whale, for that animal, after lashing the sea furiously, sounded, and
presently the disturbance subsided.
After breakfast we saw a blow half a mile to windward, and the skipper
said it was the same whale we had noticed in the early morning.
We didn’t stop to argue the question, but hauled the whale-boat, that
was towing astern, alongside and made haste to get the gear into her.
Leaving the schooner in charge of the three men, all of whom were
picked sailors, the rest of us manned the boat and started out. Captain
Brown took his place in the bow as harpooner and boat-steerer, while
Garnett and the professor pulled bow and stroke oars respectively,
leaving me to handle the steering oar.
The sea was almost like glass, and under the skipper’s direction we
rapidly approached our game. My heart beat so with excitement that it
seemed to choke me as we silently drew head on to the monster, the
skipper motioning with his hand which way he wanted me to steer. Then we
shipped the oars carefully and took out the paddles for a close throw.
All of a sudden he raised the iron and hurled it at the black mass
ahead. Garnett and Frisbow backed water as hard as they could, and in an
instant there was a tremendous splash as the animal fluked and sounded.
The skipper stood by the line, while the professor took up the bomb-gun,
determined to have the honor of shooting the beast.
The whale didn’t go down far or stay long below the surface, but when he
did come up he came with a rush that took him clear of the water and
almost aboard of us. The surging splash he made as he fell alongside
nearly swamped us with the sea and sent Frisbow over the thwart into the
bottom of the boat, while the lance came near lodging in Garnett’s neck
as the gun exploded in the air.
Old Captain Brown stormed and swore, and, calling Garnett to tend the
line, he picked up the gun and began loading it himself as I passed him
a charge, while Frisbow scrambled to his feet and asked if he had
“killed him.”
A hoarse chuckle from Garnett warned him of his mistake, but before any
one could answer the skipper passed him the gun again and sprang forward
to the line. I looked over the side, and suddenly noticed a dark spot in
the clear depths directly beneath us growing rapidly larger. Putting
forth all my strength, I swung on the steering oar to slue the boat to
one side, and it was just by good luck I managed to do so in time. I
heard an exclamation from the skipper, and saw Frisbow standing with the
gun ready, when, without an instant’s warning, the great bulk of the
whale rose alongside close enough to touch. The professor fired with the
muzzle not two feet from the animal’s body, which, as it fell alongside,
half filled the boat with water.
Instead of sounding again the whale swam slowly away, towing us after
it. Captain Brown started to load the gun, and had just put in the
powder charge when the whale slowed up and began blowing rapid jets of
crimson spray.
“We’ve got him now,” he said, and laid down the gun to wait for the end.
In about ten minutes the animal was motionless upon the water, and after
waiting a little longer we hauled alongside. He was a small sperm-whale,
not over thirty feet in length, with about enough blubber to make a
“twenty-barrel,” as he was termed by the skipper. We made a line fast to
him and then sat and waited for the schooner, that was creeping slowly
up from leeward with the light breeze. The heat was terrific as we sat
there in the open boat, and it was long past noon before the schooner
picked us up.
After dinner Frisbow, myself, and two men manned the boat to tow the
whale ashore. We worked the schooner in as close as possible to the
entrance of the lagoon, and then we had to work into the lagoon in the
small boat with a white-ash breeze. We finally landed our prize inside
the entrance, and Frisbow turned to work at once to get off the skin.
This appeared to be a useless object, but as he was bent upon it there
was nothing else to do.
During the whole of the following week he was ashore nearly all the time
with one or two men, and sometimes, when the wind was light and we
drifted well off, it was nearly midnight before he would get aboard. It
was while this work was progressing that the incident occurred which
caused all our troubles.
Frisbow and Garnett had both tried to persuade Captain Brown that it was
the best and safest place for the schooner inside the lagoon, as there
was plenty of water and quite smooth anchorage. The skipper, like a true
deep-water sailor, dreaded the proximity of the beach even worse than he
did fresh water on his skin, and he was several times made furious at
the idea of putting his vessel inside the lagoon.
One day after Garnett and Frisbow had gone ashore, where they had been
hard at work at the whale, I told the skipper that I would look out for
the vessel, and he went below and turned in.
The two men left on board were idling about the galley. One of them, the
one who acted as cook, sat in the doorway and worked a pan of “duff”
which he held between his knees.
The schooner had her mainsail set and hauled flat aft, while her jib was
drawn to windward, thus heaving her to in the light air that barely
ruffled the surface of the ocean. There was not a cloud in the sky, and
only a dull haze tempered the fierce heat of the sun.