UP THE INDIAN OCEAN TO BOMBAY.
At certain seasons of the year the minds of mariners navigating the
Indian Ocean are always, more or less, upon the tension of expectancy
concerning the possibility of their encountering one of those tremendous
meteors known as cyclones. A keen watch is continually kept upon the
mercury in the barometer for any deviation from its normal ebb and flow,
which occurs with the greatest regularity in the tropics during settled
weather. For these truly awful storms are so justly dreaded, by even the
bravest seaman, that no danger of navigation claims more attention. The
possibility of meeting, or being overtaken by one, bulks largely in the
dog-watch discussions among the foremast hands, and he who has
successfully braved an encounter with a cyclone, speaks with an
authority denied to his fellows who have never had such a painful
experience. Even to me, juvenile as I was, an almost deferential hearing
was accorded when I spoke of my Havana experience--the hurricane of the
West Indies, the typhoon of the China seas, and the cyclone of the
Indian Ocean being only different names for the same mighty atmospheric
convulsion. Happily, our leisurely progress northward was unattended by
any such deeply perilous adventure as the encounter with a cyclone would
have been. Doubts were freely expressed as to the probability of the
_Western Belle_ weathering one at any time, but especially under our
present short-handed conditions. Every day, therefore, that passed
seeing us nearer port was noted with delight, as lessening our chances
of utter extermination. And when at last we passed the latitude of Cape
Comorin and entered the Arabian Sea, there was a distinct lightening of
faces and a tendency to make little of the weary passage now gradually
nearing its end. We did not see a vessel of any description, during our
journey from the Cape, until within two hundred miles of Bombay, neither
did we sight any land. But one morning, to my amazement, I saw a vessel
nearing us, unlike any I had ever seen before--except in pictures. She
had a hull like the half of an egg cut lengthways, and was propelled by
an enormous white sail of lateen shape, or almost like one of our jibs.
She could not have been more than ten or fifteen tons capacity, and how
she stood up under such an immense spread of sail was a mystery. She
came flying along like a huge sea-bird, shooting up almost in the wind's
eye, and presently, graceful as an albatross, rounded-to under our stern
and "spilled" her sail. Seated in the after part of this queer craft
were two or three dignified-looking men in white raiment, with the
peculiar stiff headgear affected by Parsees. One of the black, unclad
natives forming her crew hooked on to our fore-chains, and, with an
agility I should have hardly believed possible, one of the white-robed
visitors seized a rope flung over the side and skipped on board.
Speaking correct English, he saluted the mate, who stood at the gangway;
then hastened aft, and, making a low salaam to the skipper, solicited
the honour of being our "dubash," or general purveyor, while we were in
harbour. To his great disappointment, however, Captain Smith was an old
Bombay trader, and always employed the same dubash; so that, after a few
compliments, our visitor politely took his leave, hoping for better luck
next time.
Thenceforward we met many native craft, or "buggalows," as they call
them, lumbering along the coast on various errands, all characterized by
a general makeshift appearance that made me wonder how ever they dared
brave the dangers of the sea at all. But that is a peculiarity of all
Eastern native craft. They are things of shreds and patches, and look as
seaworthy as a waggon with a worn-out tarpaulin set. Most of them creep
along shore pretty closely, and, at night, lower their wooden anchors
down about twenty fathoms, furl sail, and turn in--or, at least, go to
sleep. She is pretty safe to fetch up somewhere, and time doesn't
matter. If she gets run down by some bustling ship or another, it is
Kismet, and not to be helped.
At last we drew near Bombay--that Liverpool of the East--the first sight
of which is so amazing to an untravelled Briton. I was almost stupefied
with wonder at the mighty stream of traffic, the immense fleet of ships
that lay at anchor in the magnificent harbour, and the beauty of the
great city. We had shipped a white pilot, who, being anxious to get up
to the anchorage before dusk, and make one job of the mooring, was
"cracking on" to an exceedingly stiff breeze, making the old ship heel
over alarmingly. Suddenly I heard my name called. Running aft, I was met
by the second mate, who, handing me a coil of line, ordered me to go up
and reeve the signal halliards in the mizzen truck. Now, I should
premise that, like all American-built ships, we carried very long "royal
poles," or bare tapering extensions of the masts above the highest part
of the rigging. Ours were extra long--some sixteen feet or so--and
crowned at the top, which was not much thicker than a man's wrist, with
a flat piece of wood about as large as a cheese-plate, in one side of
which was a sheave for the signal halliards or flag-line. I started
aloft boldly enough; but when I reached the base of the pole, and saw to
what a height its bareness towered above me, while the staggering ship
lurched to leeward and the foaming sea roared a hundred and twenty feet
below, my heart failed me, my head swam, and all my scanty stock of
strength left me. For some time I sat with my legs clutched round the
pole, just clinging, without power to move. Then I heard the voice of
the second mate pealing up from the deck. "Hurry up there with those
halliards!" Strange as it may appear, although I felt that I was going
to certain death, my fear of him was so great that I made the attempt.
Pulling myself up, I shut my eyes and murmured a prayer. Trembling in
every nerve, but fighting against my benumbing weakness, I actually
struggled to the top. As I write, the cold sweat bursts from every pore,
for I feel again the terrible agony of that moment. Opening my eyes, I
thrust at the opening of the sheave with the end of the line; but it was
knotted, and would not go through. I _had_ tried and failed, and with my
last flash of energy I grasped the pole again in both arms, and slid
down on to the eyes of the royal rigging. Here I clung for a few minutes
to recover myself, and to be violently sick; then, feeling as if the
bitterness of death was past, I descended to the deck, walked up to Mr.
Cottam, and said, "I have tried, and I can't do it, sir--not if you kill
me." He stared at me blankly for a moment. Then turning away, as if the
situation was beyond him, he called my constant chum, Bill Smith, and
gave him the job. He, being strong as a bear and agile as a monkey, very
soon managed it; not without considerable grumbling at Jemmy for sending
a "weakly kid" like me on such an errand. The whole episode may seem
trivial; but I frankly declare that having, in my experience, faced
death many times, I have never felt such terror as I did then.
We made a "flying moor" in fine style, in spite of the great fleet of
ships surrounding us, the sails were furled, decks cleared up, and all
hands dismissed forrard to meditate upon the successful close of our
passage of seven months from Liverpool. Soon everybody's attention was
drawn to a large ship near by, whose crew were weighing anchor, homeward
bound. It was the _Stornoway_, the vessel we had seen towing into
Liverpool as we left. She had discharged and loaded in Liverpool, made
her passage out, and now, having discharged and loaded in Bombay, was
returning again. Such differences there are between sailing ships.
The morning brought a chattering crowd of coolies carrying little
shallow baskets and short hoes. At first, the idea of discharging two
thousand tons of coal by such childish means seemed absurd, and, when a
start was made, impossible. For the poor wretches--men, women, and
children--did not appear to have the faintest idea of working, or to
possess enough strength to do more than carry their attenuated bodies
about. But they were formed into lines, from the hatches to the
gangways, and, while some scratched the coal into the baskets with the
hoes, the rest passed them from hand to hand to a monotonous chant of
"Jal marck ooday, jal marck oodayleeallah, jal marck ooday." The
spelling, of course, is phonetic, and I haven't the faintest idea what
it meant. So mechanically did they "puckarow" those baskets, that often
one would pass from the hatch to the gangway empty, the coolie on the
rail going through the motions of tilting it over into the lighter and
returning it. In any case, I do not think the average weight of coal
passed in a basket was seven pounds. Yet somehow the lighters got
filled. There was such a number of coolies, and the passing was so
incessant, that it was bound to tell. The crew, apart from the
discomfort of the all-pervading coal-dust, had a very good time, as
little work being required of them as possible. And, while a plentiful
allowance of fresh meat and vegetables was provided by the ship, there
was also a bumboat in attendance that kept the men well supplied, at
their own cost, with fruit, eggs, etc. I was fortunate enough again to
be book-keeper, receiving in return as much fruit as I wanted.
Except on Sundays, matters went on in a very humdrum style, the only
incident out of the common being a picnic excursion to the rock-temples
of Elephanta. But I have no intention of describing such places, that,
indeed, are as well known to readers as the Isle of Wight. My object is
a totally different one. On Sundays I should think the bulk of the
trading population got afloat, and came ship-visiting. If our ship's
deck was a fair sample of those of the rest of the fleet, there could
have been little merchandise left in the bazaars. From the cabin to the
forecastle the decks were almost impassable for the piles of curios of
all kinds--clothes, cigars, birds, etc. The bulk of the stuff was
dreadful rubbish, almost worthless, in fact; yet, owing to the ignorance
of sailors of what can be bought in decent shops at home, the trash
fetched high prices, at least double what really good articles of the
same style and place of origin could be bought for in London. And, in
addition to that, by a system nothing short of robbery, each man was
charged two shillings and fourpence for every rupee he drew against his
hardly earned wages, while at that time the rupee was quoted officially
at one shilling and eightpence. Who pocketed the eightpence, I do not
know; but I shrewdly suspect that it was considered, like the
backsheesh levied from the tailor and the bumboat-wallah, the captain's
legitimate perquisite. I have known a captain pocket fifty rupees off a
bumboat bill of two hundred and fifty, and, of course, the keen-witted
Hindu based his charges to the men on the expectation of such a tax; so
that Jack was robbed on every hand, unless he sternly made up his mind
to spend nothing "in the country." And, as not one in a hundred sailors
have such resolution as that, there are some very pretty pickings out of
their scanty wages.
The time sped swiftly away, and soon the coal was all out and most of
the stone ballast in. No cargo was obtainable for us in Bombay, so we
were ordered to proceed to Bimliapatam on the Coromandel coast, and
after that to Coconada to complete. But, before our departure, the
time-honoured custom of giving the crew twenty-four hours' liberty must
be observed. Consequently the mate's watch duly received twenty rupees
each, and, dressed in their best, started for the shore one morning at
eight o'clock. All of them returned the following morning except
Bradley, the hirsute Bluenose who lost my fish for me on the passage
out. But oh! what a pitiful, dirty, draggled lot they were. And, in
spite of their miserable condition, they must needs get up several
fights among themselves in order to crown the delights they had been
indulging in ashore. It was quite out of the question to allow the
second mate's watch ashore that day; and this decision nearly caused our
first serious row, so eager were the other half of the crew to go and do
even as their fellows had done. But as there was nothing to prevent the
petty officers going, they all furbished up and started, taking us two
boys with them. My chum Bill Smith was of the party; but as soon as we
landed he went off with me, being far too old a hand to be led by
anybody. Of course, poor fellow! having no wages, he had contrived to
earn a little by washing, etc., and every copper was carefully hoarded
for the Bombay bazaars, where, he informed me, better bargains in
clothes could be got than anywhere in London. Up and down the crowded
lanes of the bazaar he led me, driving away with contumely the pilots
who offered to personally conduct us for a consideration, and fingering
the goods of the various shopkeepers with the air of one who is bursting
with wealth. At last, finding a booth to his mind, he entered, and
forthwith selected a great heap of things: such as soldier's trousers,
woollen shirts, dungaree jumpers and trousers, towels, caps, soap--in
fact, a regular outfit. At last the middle-aged Mussulman who ran the
show began to look suspicious, and said, "You got plenty rupee, Johnny?"
"I've got all I want, Johnny," said he. "Gimme jar o' ginger. _Ginger_,
mind; none o' yer m'lasses." The ginger was brought and added to the
heap. Then Bill said, "Now, then, Johnny, how much for the lot?" A
portentous calculation ensued, which occupied, I should think, twenty
minutes. At last the account was made up--forty-five rupees. Without
moving a muscle of his face, Bill immediately replied, "I'll give you
ten." Horror, amazement, indignation, chased one another over the
countenances of the shopkeepers. At last one of them found words. "You
make plenty laugh, Johnny; speakee barabba one time. Gib forty rupee."
"Not another pice," said Bill, pulling out his money and counting it
ostentatiously. Well, the antics those two natives did cut, to be sure!
They worked themselves up into a foaming rage, they cast their turbans
recklessly in the dust; in such English as they could command they
reviled their tormentor and all his relations to the remotest degree,
and finally came down to thirty rupees. That, they swore with sudden
solemnity, was absolutely the bottom figure, at which they would lose at
least five rupees on the transaction. "Oh, very well," said Bill, "then
I'm off." And, rising, he said, "Come along, Tom." Out we went, and
strolled leisurely along the alley for about a hundred yards, when
suddenly one of the merchants came flying after us, and, with many
smiles, besought Bill to return and "speakee barabba" now. Back we went,
and the game began again. I got thoroughly weary of it at last; but
Bill's patience was inexhaustible. He was rewarded, finally, by their
absolute submission to his terms, when, to my consternation, he refused
to have the goods unless they gave him a large bottle of pepper as
backsheesh. Surely, I thought, this will so disgust them that they will
assault us. But no; after another quarter of an hour's haggling they
yielded the last point, and, laden like a sumpter mule, Bill took his
triumphant departure.
By this time I had seen more than enough of the steaming hubbub of the
bazaars. But Bill had more business to transact; so we parted company;
and I wandered away alone, gazing with wide-eyed wonder at the
innumerable strange sights to be seen in this great humming city. No one
molested me, although many curious glances were cast at me by groups of
languid natives, of all shades, as I trudged along without any definite
idea whither I was going. At last, utterly weary, I found myself down at
the water's edge again. The afternoon was getting on, and I should soon
have to return on board; but as I had still two rupees, I thought I
would like a trip up the harbour to Mazagan, or beyond it. Full of my
project, I chartered a canoe with two men in it to take me for a sail,
bargaining, as well as I was able, in my ignorance of the language, for
a two hours' sail, ending on board my ship. We started, and, for perhaps
half an hour, I thoroughly enjoyed myself, as the canoe glided along
right up past the P. and O. moorings and the Arsenal. Then, when we were
clear of the shipping, my boatmen suddenly stopped and began an animated
discussion with me, which was somewhat complicated by the fact that
neither of us understood the other. Eventually I became convinced that
they wanted more money, and their previously mild behaviour grew
certainly more aggressive. I felt very nervous, but struggled to conceal
the fact, speaking boldly, as if accustomed to be obeyed. Finally I
produced my money, and turned my pockets inside out to show that I had
no more. Upon seeing this they held a long conversation, during which
the canoe drifted idly and I sat upon thorns. At last, much to my
relief, they turned the boat's head towards the anchorage again, and,
without another word, paddled homeward. Arriving at about a cable's
length from the ship they stopped, and demanded their money. But I,
having seen the stalwart figure of the mate standing on the forecastle
head, stood up, and, with all the voice I could muster, shouted,
"_Western Belle_, ahoy!" Mr. Edny heard me and waved his hand. This move
on my part evidently disconcerted them, and they paddled vigorously for
the gangway. As soon as the canoe touched the side, I sprang up and told
Mr. Edny what had happened. He asked me what I had promised them. I told
him one rupee. Taking eight annas from me, he went down the gangway and
offered it to them. When they set up a perfect storm of protests, he
just pitched the piece of money into the canoe and pushed it away from
the side, returning on board without taking any further notice. Needless
to say, I was heartily thankful to be well out of what at one time
looked like an ugly scrape.
Next morning the liberty men returned on board in the usual condition,
but Bradley was not with them. That night, however, he paid us a visit
by stealth, coming up the cable and rifling several of his shipmates'
chests of whatever was worth carrying off. Then he went ashore again
unperceived, showing what a very slack watch was kept. There was
consternation in the forecastle when the robbery was discovered, and a
good deal of wild talk; but Bradley was something of a "bucko," and I
very much doubt whether any of them would have said much to him had he
been there in person. Three days longer we remained at anchor, although
apparently quite ready for sea. On the second morning Bradley returned,
and climbing on board, walked aft and coolly asked the mate for a rupee
to pay his boatman with. Being curtly refused and ordered forward, he
stripped off the filthy white shirt he was wearing, and rolling it up,
flung it over to the dinghy-wallah, bidding him to "Kinnaree jao,
jildee" (get ashore quick). With this the poor beggar was perforce
content, making off hurriedly. Bradley then made for his bunk, saying no
word to any one until the afternoon, when he bade Julius Caesar go and
tell the skipper that he was very ill. This message actually made the
old man angry. He came forward and gave the defaulter a piece of his
mind; but being evidently impressed by the look of the man, who had been
gutter-raking in all the filth of "coolie town" for three days, he sent
for the harbour doctor. That worthy, after examination, gave it as his
opinion that there was nothing the matter with the fellow but bad gin
and want of food, assuring the skipper that he would be all right as
soon as we got to sea.
Next morning we got under way and sailed, not without another protest
from Bradley, of which no notice was taken, as the medical officer, who
was then paying his final visit, adhered to his opinion. We took a
favourable wind at the harbour's mouth, and slid gently down the coast
under easy sail, the vessel being "tender" from scanty allowance of
ballast. But the weather was lovely, the wind fair, and everything
promised a delightful trip. Bradley, however, steadily got worse.
Presently an angry-looking eruption of pimples burst out all over his
body, even the inside of his mouth being invaded. Then my purgatory
commenced. No one would have anything to do with him, although he was
quite helpless. He was shifted out of the forecastle up on to the
forecastle-head, and a sort of tent rigged over him to keep the sun off.
Then I was told off to attend to him. The horror of that time will never
leave me. He was, as I have before noted, with the exception of the
mate, the most hairy man I ever saw, the black shaggy covering of his
arms and legs being at least an inch and a half long, while his chest
and back were more like a great ape's than a man's. Therefore, when all
those pimples grew until they were large as a finger-top, and so close
together that not a speck of sound flesh was visible, the task of
washing him, which I had to perform alone, was really an awful one. I
must draw a veil over the further development of those horrible
pustules.... Happily for the patient he became delirious and apparently
insensible to pain. How I kept my reason I don't know; but I thought,
and still think, that it was a frightful ordeal for a youngster under
fourteen to endure for a whole week. I had nothing else to do; no
relief, except my ordinary watch below, during which he was left quite
alone. On the eleventh day after leaving Bombay we entered Bimliapatam
Roads, and just as we did so death mercifully came to his rescue and
mine. The carpenter botched up a rough coffin, into which the
unrecognizable heap, with all its bedding, was hurriedly bundled, taken
ashore, and buried at the foot of the flagstaff without any ceremony
whatever. No one seemed to know what the disease had been; but I can
only say that having seen lepers in all stages of disfigurement, and
many other cases of terrible pestilential ravages, I have never seen
anything so awful as the case of William Bradley.