trying to keep in the shadow of the mainsail. I smoked a cigar and gazed
at the eddies that drifted from the vessel’s side to windward.
After about an hour, when I had smoked my cigar down to a stump, I was
aware that the wind had died out entirely and that it was oppressively
hot on deck. I lounged aft and leaned over the rail and tried to see if
I could distinguish anything moving on the island, but could not, and
the distant hum of the surf was the only sound that broke the painful
stillness.
Suddenly the hum of the surf seemed to grow louder. I turned to look to
the westward, and in an instant saw the ocean whipped to foam along the
horizon.
“All hands!” I yelled, and sprang to the peak halyards.
I let them go by the run, and had just cast off the throat when with a
rush the white squall struck us just forward of the weather-beam. One of
the men let go the jib halyard and tugged at the downhaul and managed to
get the sail half down before the full weight of the wind struck us. The
mainsail, hanging half way down the mast, thundered away at a great rate
until it split from head to leach, while the little schooner lay on her
beam ends, letting the water pour in a torrent down the open
companion-way.
In less than five minutes it was all over. The wind slacked up as
suddenly as it began, and the vessel slowly righted. Captain Brown
clambered on deck half drowned from the flooded cabin and helped to get
in what was left of the mainsail. We got all the canvas in, but the sea
was as calm as before, except for the swell stirred up, and there was
not enough wind to fill a topsail.
“White squall, eh?” inquired the skipper as soon as we had the sails
secured.
“It was some kind of a squall,” I said; “but there was no warning
whatever of its coming.”
“There never is,” he answered, with a sickly grin. “I wonder how much
water we’ve got into us. If it had held on five minutes longer we’d have
passed in our papers, sure; and, as it was, I am all but drowned. It
seemed as if the whole ocean poured into my bunk and held me down.”
We found the cabin half full of water, and it took us all day to get
things straightened out below, while the men unbent the split mainsail
and began to repair it.
When Garnett and the professor came on board that night they were
astonished at the damage done, for there had been no sign of wind on the
reef.
In the schooner’s hold we found everything in a mess, and all our
fishing-gear and lines piled up on the port side in one big tangle.
Garnett managed to pick out the bomb-gun and some irons from the pile,
and Frisbow, after wiping the gun, had the cook fill it with beef tallow
to keep out the rust.
That night we held a council, and, as there were three to one for going
inside the reef, the skipper’s objections were finally overruled, and it
was decided that we should remain in there until work on the whale was
finished. The next morning at sunrise we headed in through the entrance,
and by noon were moored snugly enough on the inside.
The work of skinning the whale was soon accomplished, and the skin was
staked out, with one or two of the sharks we had captured, and left to
the care of the professor.
I did not fancy the work of getting out the animal’s skeleton, as the
stench from the body was now unbearable, so I spent my time in procuring
specimens of a more attractive sort from the clear waters of the reef.
I had been thus engaged for several days, and was returning to the
schooner one evening, when I heard a deep booming sound that seemed to
fill the air about me. The ground under me trembled violently and it
was with difficulty I kept my feet I hurried towards the schooner, and
met Frisbow on the beach opposite where she was moored. His face
expressed great anxiety, and he asked me if I had felt the earthquake. I
replied that I had, and wondered what would happen next. He didn’t
answer, but I could see that he was more excited than I had ever seen
him before.
When we reached the schooner Garnett was being rated by Captain Brown
for having suggested bringing the vessel into such a hole. The skipper
had felt the shock, and swore that we would have the accompanying tidal
wave in about half an hour, adding that if it caught us in there we were
as good as dead men.
It was not quite dark, so without a moment’s delay we made sail and
stood for the entrance. There was no wind to speak of, and the skipper,
fearing that we might drift into the breakers, had Garnett and the three
sailors man the whale-boat and tow us to keep up good headway.
I took the wheel and Captain Brown went forward to direct our movements.
We went straight for the middle of the cut, while the sun dipped below
the western horizon and the sudden tropic night fell upon the ocean. The
moon was a few degrees high in the east, and we knew that there would be
plenty of light, anyhow, to steer by, as we kept slowly on.
In a little while we neared the entrance, and it looked as if we would
be on the open ocean within half an hour, when all of a sudden I heard a
harsh, grinding sound, and the schooner, with a slight jar, became
motionless. The skipper came rushing aft and peered over the taffrail,
muttering a string of oaths through his set teeth.
“What is it?” I asked, as I left the wheel and rushed to the rail.
He said nothing, but dived below for a lead-line. In a moment he was
forward again and flung the lead overboard, but I noticed that the line
failed to run out.
“What is it?” I asked again.
He turned his face towards me, and I saw its ghastly expression in the
moonlight.
“God knows,” he growled, “but we are hard and fast on the reef, and
there isn’t half a fathom of water anywhere ahead of us.” He bawled for
Garnett to come on board, and I heard the startled exclamations from the
men in the boat as they hauled in the tow-line and came alongside.
In a moment the skipper jumped into the boat with the hand-lead and
started off through the entrance.
I could see him making soundings for nearly a quarter of a mile ahead as
they glided over the calm moonlit water, and then the boat was put about
suddenly, and she came for the schooner. Frisbow and I went to the side.
“We’re in for it now,” said the skipper, with an oath, as he clambered
on deck. “The whole bottom seems to have raised up, and there isn’t
enough water to float a junk-barrel across the whole cut.”
“Come, bear a hand!” he yelled to Garnett. “Get a line out aft and we’ll
see if we can kedge her off; we can’t lay here all night.”
Frisbow looked at me and I at him, but we said nothing. We were caught
like a rat in a hole, and the only thing to do was to get the schooner
afloat and wait for daylight, when things might not be as bad as they
appeared.
There was no time to speculate until we got the schooner off the ledge,
so we lent a hand and got the kedge into the boat, and Garnett bent on
the tow-line and dropped astern.
In a few minutes he came on board, and all hands tailed onto the line to
haul her off. We hauled and tugged, but it was no use, we couldn’t start
her. Finally we passed the line forward to the windlass, and after half
an hour’s heaving we had the satisfaction of feeling the little vessel
slide off into deep water again. There was nothing to do but to go back
to our moorings, so, sending the boat ahead again, we towed back and
made fast at our old berth, all hands quite worn out with our exertions.
There was no thought of rest, however, for any of us; our case was too
bad for that. We were in no immediate danger, but we were cut off from
the world as suddenly and as effectually as if we were confined on the
moon. Our provisions would last six months with care, but even in that
time the chances were against our sighting a vessel in that locality.
As soon as the schooner was safely moored we went ashore and explored
the reef, but there was no apparent change in any part above water. The
skipper was beside himself with rage at being caught, and blamed Garnett
for the whole affair. Garnett said little and mopped his head frequently
with his handkerchief, but I fancied I saw a peculiar gleam in his eye
when the captain became more than usually violent.
After spending the whole night trying to work out some solution of our
difficulty, we came to the conclusion that the only way was to strip the
vessel, heel her over on her bilge, and force her through the entrance.
We discussed every possible method of lightening her, and the skipper
finally thought that by taking everything out of her except her masts we
might get across the reef with what little current there would be to
favor us.
As soon as it was daylight we started for the entrance to examine it
carefully and find the deepest water. The air was hot and still, and the
water of the lagoon had a greasy look.
The first thing that attracted our attention was a large, dark object
that rose on the reef where yesterday there had been nearly fifty feet
of water. All eyes were directed to it as it lay there like a huge mass
of coral weed with great festoons hanging from its sides.
Suddenly the skipper sprang to his feet “My God, it’s a ship!” he cried.
All hands stopped rowing and turned in their seats, when Garnett, who
was steering, bawled out to “Give way together!” and we headed straight
for it.
As we approached, we saw that it was the hull of a large ship lying on
its bilge, but so covered with marine growths that its outline could
hardly be traced in the great mass. It lay well out, and the wash of the
surf broke against the stern; this is the reason we didn’t notice it
during the night. There were three or four feet of water around it, so
we forced the boat through the floating weed until we were alongside.
Garnett clambered to the deck amidships closely followed by Frisbow and
myself. We made our way aft aloft along the slippery incline by clinging
to the weed that covered everything, and reached a large hole that had
evidently been the entrance to the cabin. The whole design of the ship
was strange and different from any modern vessel I had ever seen. We
peered down the opening, but could see nothing inside except
various-colored marine growths.
The professor was for going below instantly, but Garnett held back and
contented himself with examining the steering-gear, where he was joined
by the skipper.
Frisbow let himself down the opening and I, feeling ashamed to let him
go alone, let myself down after him.
The cabin was dark inside, for the windows were covered with weed, but I
could make out the form of the professor as he groped his way along the
slippery floor into the darkness forward.
After going a short distance into what appeared to be a large saloon the
grass seemed to grow thinner and I stood up and looked about me. As I
did so my head came in sharp contact with a curious brass lamp which
hung suspended from one of the deck-beams. My exclamation caused Frisbow
to join me, and together we examined the strange fittings about us.
A table and some chairs, which were fastened to the floor, still held
their shapes although covered with grass and slime, and from the strange
carving on their legs, which was still visible in places, the professor
pronounced them to be Spanish.
A little farther on we came to a bulkhead with two doors, which were
open and led into an inky black space beyond. The professor struck a
match, and we saw that both doors had short companion-ways leading to a
cabin on the berth-deck and that the ladders were sound although covered
with slime. The match went out, but Frisbow instantly struck another and
started down. We reached the floor of a small cabin, which had two doors
on each side and which was quite free from the heavy sea-growth we had
encountered above. There was a table in the centre and the frames of
several heavy chairs, while from above hung a large brass lamp covered
with verdigris and similar in pattern to the one I had encountered with
my head.
Striking another match, we entered the first door to the right. There
was nothing in it but a large wooden chest, which lay open and contained
a pulpy and slimy mass. In a bunk was the same material, while on the
bulkheads were green brass rods which had evidently held some sort of
drapery that had long ago succumbed to the action of sea-water. In the
other rooms we found several old matchlock guns almost entirely rust and
also half a dozen long straight swords. On a shelf was a tinder-box of
brass with the flint as good as new, but the steel was a brown lump.
There were a number of rusty knives and several brass frames, together
with a lot of glassware and crockery. Some of this rubbish crunched
sharply underfoot in the ooze, but everything else not of wood or iron
had decayed beyond recognition.
The professor was down to his last match when we came across a small
chest in the last room. It was of iron but not heavy, so I took it under
my arm as we made for the companion-way.
It gave me a nervous feeling to be down in the black, slimy hold of that
lost ship, and I was rather glad to start for the deck again. Before we
reached the ladder the professor’s last match was out, and we groped our
way aft as best we could, encumbered with all the spoils we could carry.
The silence and darkness made me hasten my steps, when just before I
reached the ladder a terrific yell echoed through the blackness, causing
me to drop everything and start with a sudden terror. Then in a moment
the skipper’s hoarse voice bawled down to us from the door above,
wanting to know if we intended to remain aboard all the morning. The
old sword I had was too rusty to be of any use, otherwise I think I
should have run him through the body; so, cursing him loudly for his
impatience, to the professor’s great amusement, I picked up my things
and mounted the ladder.
On reaching the deck we found Garnett had discovered a brass gun lying
on the port side of the ship, and he was busy spinning a yarn to the men
in the boat, when the skipper bawled out for them to lend a hand to get
our stuff aboard. We placed the iron box in the stern and, jumping in,
started to examine the cut for a channel to get to sea.
We had only been on the wreck a few minutes, but we had no desire to
remain any longer until we found a way out of the lagoon.
After sounding all the morning we found the depth pretty much the same
all the way across, and we now noticed that the whole reef appeared much
higher on the south side than before. The part above high-water also
showed many seams and fissures that we had not seen there when we first
examined it.
About noon we headed for the schooner, feeling anxious and depressed.
Frisbow was more sanguine than the rest of us about lighting the
schooner and forcing her across the barrier, but I knew it would be a
desperate undertaking when we struck the breakers, that now rolled clear
across the entrance.
When we reached the schooner we pried off the lid of the iron box and
found a mass of discolored pulp, at the bottom of which was a brass
plate with the word Isabella cut upon it in large characters.
We were so tired out with our exertions that as soon as we had something
to eat all hands turned in for a short rest before beginning to unload
everything on the beach. This appeared to be the only way out of the
difficulty, and the skipper’s anxiety increased at every delay.
In the afternoon we began to get the gear out of the hold, and soon had
the deck covered with stuff of all kinds to be sent ashore. As we had to
break out some of our provisions, we closed the hatchway that evening on
account of the heavy dew that fell at night.
After supper we started to load the boat, but as the men were tired they
worked slowly. Garnett was growing ugly under the continual nagging by
the skipper, and once Frisbow started to remonstrate with the captain
for directing his abuse against the mate. This only had the effect of
precipitating matters, and Garnett, who was passing some of the gear
into the boat alongside, threw down the coil of rope he had in his hand
and swore a great oath that he would not do another stroke of work until
the skipper “mended his jaw tackle.”
This drove the old man into a frenzy, and before we could stop him he
grabbed a harpoon and poised it to hurl at the mate.
“You mutinous scoundrel,” he yelled, “I’ll show you who’s captain of
this craft!” Quick as thought he threw the iron, and I believed
Garnett’s end had come.
Quicker still did the old sailor spring to one side, and, grabbing the
bomb-gun, let drive at the skipper’s head, while the harpoon drove clear
through the port bulwarks and hung there. The recoil of the gun sent
Garnett staggering backward, while the captain, throwing up his hands,
fell like a log across the hatchway. Frisbow and I stood horror-stricken
for an instant and then we rushed to the captain’s side. I expected to
find half of his head torn off by the shell, but, although his face was
black with powder and the blood oozed from his mouth, he appeared to
have no wound whatever.
We carried him aft and laid him out in his bunk, Garnett lending a hand
as if nothing had happened between them. Then the professor went for the
medicine-chest.
After washing blood, grease, and powder from the old man’s bruised face
and applying a little spirits between his swelling lips, he suddenly
opened his eyes and saw Garnett standing close by. He made a quick
movement as though to rise, but Frisbow held him down. Then seeing we
had mistaken the motive, he smiled a ghastly smile and held out his hand
in the direction of the mate.
Garnett stepped forward and took it and their eyes met.
“You’ve killed me fair and square and I don’t bear you any malice,” said
the captain with great difficulty.
“Killed nothing,” growled Garnett, with half a smile; “I only blowed a
gallon or two of tallow into your whiskers; you were so almighty quick,
you know.”
Here the skipper muttered an oath and tried to get up again, but Frisbow
and I both held him quiet.
“You lie quiet to-night,” said the professor; “there’s no tremendous
hurry about this business, and to-morrow this dizziness will be out of
your head.”
He poured out a stiff glass of spirits, which the captain gulped down,
and, after bandaging up the lower part of the bruised face with wet
towels, we left him and went on deck.
Garnett kept chuckling to himself during the evening as we loaded the
boat, and when the moon came up he and two men started to carry the load
to the beach.
While they were absent Frisbow and I sat on the rail and discussed our
chances of getting to sea again in a few days. I did not like to tell
him how small our chances were, for he appeared to have perfect
confidence in our ability to float the vessel overland on a heavy dew if
it became necessary.
The boat had been gone about an hour and the moon was now high in the
cloudless heavens, and I was getting sleepy, so I lit my pipe and smoked
hard to keep awake. The water shone like a polished mirror of silver,
and the dark outline of the reef loomed distinctly through the night on
all sides. We could hear Garnett and the men talking on the beach as
they unloaded the boat, but besides this there was not a sound on that
desolate spot save the deep hum of the surf outside the barrier.
My thoughts turned to the wreck, which shone like a black speck in the
white wash of the sea, and we talked of how she had probably run on the
ledge in the night, years ago, and then slid off into deep water. Her
crew, even if they were rescued, must have died over a century ago, and
there was little chance of our ever finding any record of her loss. That
she was a Spanish ship and her name Isabella I felt quite certain; but
even that fact conveyed little knowledge to any of us.
While we sat on the rail and talked a deep booming like thunder suddenly
broke the stillness about us, and the little vessel trembled violently.
We started to our feet and listened as the great volume of sound filled
the air around us, dying away gradually in pulsations. We heard the
cries of the men on the beach, followed by a few moments of silence;
then the booming began again and lasted a few seconds, dying out as
before.
“I suppose we’re about as safe here as anywhere,” muttered the
professor; “but I must say that is the most terrific sound I’ve ever
heard.”
We waited ten or fifteen minutes in silence, when the stillness was
broken by the wash of oars as Garnett started to come aboard. We could
not see the boat against the dark outline of the shore, but we could
hear the clank of the rowlocks, and I leaned over the side, knowing it
would be in sight in a few moments.
As I watched the water I was suddenly aware of a strong current setting
past the vessel towards the entrance, and at the same instant Frisbow
uttered a startled exclamation. In an instant the boat showed clear in
the moonlight and Garnett’s voice bawled out for to throw him a line.
Seizing the main-sheet, I threw it to him as the men were bending to the
oars as if rowing through a rapid. The man forward caught it and hauled
alongside, all hands wasting no time in clambering to the schooner’s
deck.
“It’s a tidal wave, sure,” grunted Garnett, out of breath. “Look out for
the hatches.”
In less than a minute we had everything lashed down forward, and then
all hands came aft to the companion-way of the cabin. As we stood there
we heard a deep murmur from the northward and westward, which gradually
increased as the seconds flew by.
“How are the anchors?” asked the professor of Garnett.
“Every fathom of the best Norway iron tailing to each one,” answered the
mate; “but they’ll never hold if the sea comes over the reef.”
Suddenly the deep murmur swelled into a thundering roar. The schooner
strained at her cables as the water flashed past, and then above the
reef we saw a hill rise white in the moonlight with its crest ragged and
broken against the night sky. The very air shook with the jar of that
foaming crest as it fell with a mighty crash on the reef and went over
it.
“Get below!” roared Garnett, and we tumbled down the companion into the
cabin, the mate pulling the hatch-slide after him and fastening it.
The skipper had sprung from his bunk when the roar had awakened him, and
stood looking at us in dismay as we tumbled below. In an instant I felt
the schooner rise as, with a deafening, smothering crash, the surge
struck and passed over her. She seemed to mount into the air and fly
through space for nearly a minute. I found myself lying on the port side
with my feet against the deck-beams and my hands stretched out against
the cabin floor. The next instant she righted with a jerk and I found
myself lying on top of Garnett in the middle of the cabin. The water
poured through the crack of the hatchway and down the skylight, so for
an instant I supposed we were at the bottom of the sea. Garnett,
however, flung me aside and started for the deck.
The schooner made a few sharp rolls and then partly steadied herself on
an even keel as the mate slid back the hatch-slide. Instead of tons of
water pouring down upon us, as we looked up we caught a glimpse of the
full moon in a clear sky, and I don’t remember anything that looked half
so beautiful as it did to me at that moment.
We scrambled on deck and looked about us. There, a quarter of a mile
away to the northward, lay Clipperton Reef, quiet and peaceful on the
bosom of the calm Pacific Ocean. Not a thing was left, save a few
streaks in the moonlit water which looked like tide-rips, to show that
any disturbance had taken place.
As for the schooner, our bowsprit and foretop-mast were missing, and the
main-boom was broken at the saddle, but our lower masts were all right.
The bits forward were torn completely out of her with the surge on the
anchors, and her decks were swept perfectly clean, but when we sounded
the well and found only two feet of water in the hold we knew we were
safe. She had gone over the reef on the crest of the tidal wave and had
not even touched it. Whether we went through the cut or not it was
impossible to tell.
The boat was gone, so we could not go ashore again even if we wanted to,
but the professor was the only one who showed the slightest inclination
in this respect, and after we assured him of the loss of his specimens
he showed even less than the rest of us.