THE PASSAGE TO MELBOURNE.
We were now fairly on the voyage, and it must be confessed at the outset
that the work of the ship, in spite of the paucity of officers, went on
with automatic regularity. No disturbance of any kind marred the general
peace, all hands seeming well content to do their duty quietly, although
fully aware of the weakness of the afterguard. My own position was a
queer one. Although I was on the articles as an ordinary seaman, and
slept in the forecastle among the men, neither of the officers ever gave
me any work to do, and I was compelled in self-defence to fall back upon
my old friend the steward for something to occupy my time. I had all my
food with him, and whenever I could do so without fear of being
discovered by the captain, he allowed me to perform a few small offices
for the unfortunate passengers. Before we had been a fortnight out, a
circumstance, which I dare not hint at the nature of, compelled me to
give up my quarters in the forecastle and take refuge in the cabin,
where I spread my nightly couch under the saloon table. The captain
never seemed to notice my existence at all, at which I used to wonder
much; but feeling that obscurity was not a bad thing for me, I kept out
of his way as much as possible. I do not think it would be possible to
find a more perfect representation of Bunyan's "Pope" than he was.
Whenever he looked at one of the men his scowl was shocking, almost
murderous, and he was continually snarling at the mate for not using
violence towards them. But the first gale we encountered revealed a new
and still more unpleasant side of his character. Although the ship was
new, and staunch as faithful building could make her, her equipment in
all details of the very best procurable, I was astonished to see how
rapidly sail was reduced, as if she had been the veriest
poverty-stricken old hulk that ever was sent to sea to sink. Long before
the gale attained its height she was "fore-reaching" under a main
lower-topsail and storm staysails, and he, the commander, like an
unquiet spirit, was prowling incessantly about the cabin, or pacing
restlessly in front of the wheel. In one hand he held a large plug of
tobacco, from which his trembling fingers tore leaf after leaf and
crammed them into his mouth until it would hold no more. Then he would
pause for a moment at the lee rail and disgorge, only to resume his
feeding an instant later. He even consulted the poor old steward, asking
him, in quite familiar tones, whether he thought the gale was taking
off, although at other times he spoke to him rather more brutally than a
costermonger would to his donkey. But the crowning act of almost lunatic
fear was to come. I was doing something in his beautiful state-room,
when I heard him descending the ladder. I could not get out without
passing him, so I hid myself behind a curtain, feeling sure that he
would not remain there more than a minute. Peeping cautiously out, I saw
him standing gazing fixedly at a large print of the Lord's Prayer that
adorned one of the panels. Presently he burst out into the most terrible
blasphemies: guttural cursings that sent cold chills of horror chasing
one another over my scalp. Then he began to moan pitifully, as if in
pain, and suddenly, to my intense relief, he hurriedly went on deck
again. I fled in to the steward, shaking from head to foot, and told him
what I had heard. "Doan tak' no notice, honey," said the kind old
fellow. "I guess he's a-gettin' mighty ole 'n scared, so's he don' know
haef wat he sez. Ennyhaow, we cain't he'p his cussedness, 'n de good
Lawd ain't a-gwine ter mek us pay fer him. I knows Him better'n dat.
Don' yew lissen t'im no mo', sonny, ef yew kin he'p it." Little need to
tell me that, I thought. There was really nothing extraordinary in the
gale. Even the passengers, apart from the discomfort of their
surroundings, were unmoved by it, for the splendid vessel behaved
herself grandly, hardly shipping a drop of water. Gradually the wind
took off; but not until every trace of bad weather was out of the sky
was any attempt made to set sail again. And when at last orders were
given to loose the topsails and staysails, the captain seemed half
afraid of his own temerity, although two or three vessels passed us with
every stitch set, their crews lining the bulwarks to stare at us in
wonder as to why we were thus wasting the fine fair wind.
This cautious navigation, however, troubled nobody but the passengers;
and even they were less disturbed by it than they would have been had
they known anything of the ship's position. But that no one in the ship
knew, with any certainty, except the old fellow himself; for he
navigated the vessel, and did not allow the mate to take an observation,
treating him in this matter, as in all others, with a contempt almost
too great for words. Why, no one could tell; for Mr. Small was a good
officer and seaman, keeping the ship in perfect order, and attending to
all his duties in a most exemplary way. The only reason that could be
imagined for the captain's behaviour to him was that he had none of the
loud-voiced bully about him, and utterly refused to beat, kick, or swear
at any member of the crew. One thing was especially noticeable: neither
of the officers ever went forward of the men's quarters after dark,
unless absolutely compelled to do so in the course of trimming or
setting sail. This reluctance, on their part, to venture into what they
had come to look upon as the men's part of the deck, was of the greatest
assistance to the crew in the pursuit of their nefarious schemes of
plunder, which were carried on here to a greater extent than I have ever
heard of elsewhere. It has been already noticed that a good deal of
drunkenness was indulged in before the vessel left the dock, owing to
the previous mate's total neglect of duty, and this was principally
focussed about the galley. Now, it so happened that the stock of
kindling-wood fell very low, and this furnished an excellent excuse for
the cook to be much in the fore-hold, seeking such stray pieces of
dunnage-wood as he might burn. He was a poor cook, but a superlatively
ingenious robber. For, finding that the 'tween decks held little worth
his attention, he wrought unceasingly to get the lower hatches lifted--a
tremendous task, from the massive weights stowed on top of them. At last
he succeeded in getting into the lower hold, and laying open the vast
accumulation of valuable cargo that lay beneath. Having done this he
informed the "hard-case" members of his exploit, and considerately
arranged the fastenings on the fore-hatch so that they could get below
when they listed. Thenceforward that forecastle was a scene of luxury
such as I believe has never been equalled in a merchant ship. Wire
chandeliers, fitted with massive wax candles, lit up the usually
darksome house, the burning of costly cigars filled it with aroma,
liquors of every kind were drunk from tin pots, and at meal-times all
sorts of canned meats, seasoned with various condiments, tickled their
palates. Yet, strange to say, there was no drunkenness. One man, the
ringleader in this systematic robbery, possessed sufficient force of
character to actually prevent any of his shipmates from "giving the show
away," as he termed it. In consequence, this eating and drinking of
luxuries went on for fully three months, and never a whisper of the
goings-on reached the officers' ears. Even the passengers shared in the
plunder. Their stores, besides being of bad quality, were so limited in
quantity and variety that they were glad to purchase from the sailors a
little of their spoil, asking no questions as to its origin. As the
various cases were emptied the cook broke them up, carried the fragments
into the galley and burnt them, so that no trace was left of the
depredations.
The nightly excursions below were attended with awful risk. In the first
place the men possessed no dark lantern, so that they carried naked
candles flaring in their hands as they crawled through the restricted
spaces between the cargo and the deck overhead. And, on first entering
the lower hold, they had to make their way over hundreds of drums of
naphtha. These were all sealed, it is true; but had there been one leaky
can in that temperature over which a naked light passed! More than that,
in their investigations the marauders penetrated as far aft as the
stern, passing among little heaps of loose gunpowder which had sifted
through the hatches of the between-decks, and writhing over kegs of
blasting-powder which were stowed right across the vessel amidships. At
first they did this unthinkingly; but when they realized it they still
went on as before. No doubt this statement of mine will stagger many who
have found no difficulty hitherto in accepting my word that this book
contains absolutely nothing but the truth, and is a record of my
personal experience. Nevertheless, I solemnly declare that I have not
deviated one iota from the simple facts of the case. What is strange to
myself about it is that I did not, could not, then realize what
frightful danger we were continually in; but ever since, when I recall
the events of that voyage, the cold sweat starts out upon me and I
tremble violently.
True to his traditions the old man kept north as soon as we were well
round the Cape, afraid to run the easting down in the usual latitudes
because of the stern vigour of the brave west winds. Consequently, we
dawdled along with variable winds and dirty weather, never keeping a
steady breeze for more than a day or two at the outside. But, as the
longest passage must come to an end at last, when nearly four months had
elapsed since leaving London, a rumour ran round the ship that we were
on the meridian of Cape Leeuwin, the south-westernmost point of
Australia. This put all hands in an exceedingly good humour, and
incidentally had strange consequences. Not that she had ever been an
uncomfortable ship, except for the mate and the passengers. There was
never an angry word or a growl heard. Orders were executed with as much
alacrity as if there had been half a dozen belaying-pin-wielding
officers prowling about, ready to knock any skulker senseless on the
instant. No doubt this was owing to some strange under-current of
feeling about their nefarious proceedings on the part of the crew, as if
they could, in some measure, set-off their wholesale robbery by the
prompt, cheerful obedience they paid to all orders. But, as I have said,
the report of our nearness to port sent a glow of unusual cheerfulness
through the ship. Under its influence the prime mover in the plundering
felt so benevolent that he actually went and fetched a bottle of brandy
out of his chest, and, hiding it in the breast of his jumper, brought
it to the old carpenter as he sat solitary in his berth at the after-end
of the forward-house. Chips was profuse in his thanks, earnest in his
protestations that he would be _very_ careful not to take too much and
so let the officers into the secret. No sooner was he left alone,
however, than, pouring himself out about half a pint of the glowing
"Three Star," he drank it off at a draught. His age fell from him like a
shed garment. With a strange glitter in his eye he seized the bottle
again, and treated this new man that had entered into him to another
jorum like the first. Then, on the instant, all the contumely that he
had so long and patiently endured from the skipper rushed into his
mind--a hateful burden of memories too heavy to be longer tamely borne.
Flinging wide his door he stepped on deck and solemnly marched aft, high
determination apparent in every motion of his transformed body. Halting
before the cabin door, he shouted, "Cap'n Collier, ye mouldy-headed old
son of a gun, come out here! I'm jest goin' ter lam de measly ole hed
off'n ye!" The rest of his harangue was unfit for publication.
Sufficient to say that, in spite of his deficient acquaintance with the
English language, he showed himself marvellously fluent in all the
quaint profanity of which Americans are the acknowledged masters. Thrice
was he forcibly removed to his berth by the two officers, redoubling his
efforts to induce the captain to appear, and thrice he burst forth again
and clamoured for the old man's blood. At last, seeing that nothing else
would suffice, he was put in irons, his feet were lashed together, and,
thus bound, he was cast into his bunk to "sober up," while the second
mate searched his berth for the _fons et origo mali_. He soon found it,
and brought it aft to the captain. Then a close examination of the
fore-hatch was made, revealing the fact that it was unlocked, although
the cook swore that he _had_ always locked it before he returned the
keys to the second mate. However, it was now made secure, and the keys
brought aft and given to the captain. Neither of the officers
remembered, though, that a spacious ventilator through the fore-part of
the house led directly down into the hold. This was accordingly left
unfastened, and every night one or other of the unhappy foreigners were
compelled to slide down it and pass up such stores as they could lay
their hands on. And so the game went merrily on.
Meanwhile the weather holding fine and the wind fair, we drew rapidly
nearer to the end of the passage. For my part, easy as my lot had been,
I was thoroughly sick of it. I had never been aloft all the passage, nor
had I been allowed to take any part in the ordinary work of the ship.
Consequently I felt as if I were losing all my knowledge of my business,
and I had gloomy forebodings of my sufferings in the next ship. Moreover
I felt very uneasy in my mind as to the probable outcome of the
goings-on in the forecastle and galley. I had been so much amongst it
that I felt sure it would be difficult for me to clear myself if it came
to court, and as each day passed I felt more and more certain that there
would be a wholesale arrest as soon as the vessel arrived. Therefore I
was thoroughly unquiet, longing for the passage to end, yet dreading
the arrival in port. But, so far as I could see, these dismal
reflections troubled the crew not at all. The seasoned hands had
evidently prepared a plan of campaign, and had made ample provision for
a lengthy tramp up-country, by stocking their bags with such preserved
foods as they fancied. In addition each man had a fine gun, out of a
case they had found, and a goodly quantity of cigars and spirits. Such
utter recklessness, in the face of their probable wholesale arrest
before the ship came alongside the wharf, was hard to understand; yet so
they acted.
At last the long-looked-for light on Cape Otway was sighted, and before
a splendid westerly breeze we sped through Bass's Straits, and northward
for Port Phillip Heads. Without any hindrance, except to take up a
pilot, we raced onwards until we reached the anchorage off Williamstown,
where, with the red flag flying at our mainmast head in token of the
dangerous nature of our cargo, we brought up and furled all sail, 155
days out from London. It was the longest passage that any vessel had
made for years, and great was the astonishment manifested by all who
boarded us to hear of it. None of them could understand how it was that
so fine a ship could possibly have taken the time, especially as another
ship, belonging to the same owners, and admittedly a much slower vessel,
had been in port a fortnight, having left London one month after us.
Captain Collier told the reporters a terrible tale of the severity of
our passage, which did great credit to his imagination, but left his
veracity derelict. Four days passed at the Williamstown anchorage before
we finally got rid of our powder--days of utter misery for every one
concerned in the depredations, for they were in momentary expectation of
the arrival of a police-boat with orders for their arrest. To this day
it is a mystery to me why this did not happen. Of course the skipper
could not know how far the robbery had gone, but that "broaching of
cargo" had been indulged in he must have been well aware. But he was so
utterly contemptuous of all things English, that he may have felt quite
indifferent as to what became of Englishmen's property. As his ship was
chartered by a London firm it was doubtless their loss. At any rate, he
did not trouble himself to order any examination of the hold, or make
any inquiry into the suspicious circumstances that had taken place on
the passage. At last, all being ready, we weighed anchor and were towed
over to the Sandridge Pier. We arrived there late in the afternoon, so
that by the time we were moored it was dusk. The decks were cleared up,
and all hands sent to supper. About an hour afterwards every man
forrard, with the exception of the young foreigners, who had hardly
learned English, shouldered their bags and walked ashore. The old man
was parading the poop as the row of deserters marched up the pier, but
he either did not or would not see them. So they disappeared, and we saw
them no more. Nor did we hear of them again, although two days
afterwards a reward of four pounds each was offered for their
apprehension--a piece of folly almost inconceivable in its fatuity. Of
course the cook had gone along with them, the danger of his position far
outweighing the loss of twenty pounds in wages which he thus forfeited.
As far as I was concerned, things ran along as smoothly as heart could
wish. But I was unsettled, nor could all the kindness of the worthy
steward avail to satisfy me. Theoretically, I ought to have been
exceedingly comfortable. I had literally nothing to do but avoid the
skipper; I had thirty shillings a month as wages, abundance of good
food, and I was on the best of terms with every soul on board but one.
Yet, somehow, I longed to be out of it all, and could not bring myself
to face the possibility of going to sea again in the ship. I took to
frequenting the large coasting-steamers, which used to lie at the shore
end of the pier, and at last made great friends with the chief cook of
one of them: the _Wonga Wonga_. This worthy was a herculean negro,
rejoicing in the name of Sam White, which, as a piece of charcoal would
have made a white mark on him, was somewhat inappropriate. At the close
of a delightful evening spent in his company on board the _Wonga Wonga_,
I made bold to ask him if he could get me a passage to Sydney with him.
Oh, there could be nothing easier than that, according to him; it was
only necessary for him to speak the word, and he could take half a dozen
friends up with him. But it was usual to make him a small present. I, of
course, had no money; but I timidly offered him a gold scarf-pin, which
had been given me by the passengers as a present (I afterwards learnt
that it was worth fifty shillings). He was graciously pleased to accept
it, and told me to bring my dunnage along at once. In a fever of
excitement I returned on board the _Pharos_, and packed up all my
belongings, now swollen to a goodly heap by the many articles of
clothing given me by the passengers when they left. When I had completed
my packing, I could scarcely drag the great pile of chest, bag, and
bundle along the deck, and I dared not ask any one on board to help me.
But I had plenty of resource; so I hooked on the yardarm cargo-tackle to
the lot (all well lashed together), and after a struggle succeeded in
hoisting it high enough to swing on to the wharf, having first seen that
the watchman was comfortably dozing in the galley. Very carefully I
lowered my precious cargo on to the pier, then crept ashore, and dragged
it under a railway truck, while I went back to the _Wonga Wonga_, and
enlisted the services of the cook's mate to come and carry it up to
their ship, and place it under Mr. White's care. Then I got my final
instructions. I was to return on board the _Pharos_, and remain there
till the next day at dinner-time, when I must hasten on board the
steamer, where Mr. White would receive me, and in an hour I should be on
my way to Sydney. Making my grateful acknowledgments, I returned on
board, and upon a heap of old canvas slept dreamlessly until morning.