CHAPTER VIII.

Captain Jackson--A Drifting Spar--Approaching

Talcahuana--Washing-day--Landscapes--Harbor of

Talcahuana--Pelicans--A Visit from Officials--Description of the

Town--American Houses--Tremont House--A Dinner.

Captain J. seems to be actuated by only one object, namely, to make

a profitable voyage for his employers, regardless of the rights or

comforts of his passengers. And any little concessions he makes to

the demands of his passengers,--and these concessions are few and far

between,--any little change he makes for the better in our fare, any

thing he does to alleviate the discomforts of our voyage, is done with

extreme reluctance, and seldom without a dispute or a serious quarrel.

Let me finish the picture I have begun of the man. He has the frame

of a giant, six feet two inches high. His fist is brawny as the paw

of a grizzly bear, and his foot is a terror to shoe-makers. He is

ungainly in his figure, and awkward and ungraceful in every movement

and gesture. He has a coarse, vulgar, morose cast of countenance, is

distant and repulsive in his manners, gross and vulgar in his tastes

and conversation, and fond of repeating profane and obscene jests and

anecdotes. He is exceedingly obstinate, wilful and unyielding, which

qualities he mistakes for independence of mind. He boasts of his

indifference as to what is said of him, and yet manifests an extreme

sensitiveness when he is made the subject of a jest. Notwithstanding

his long continued intercourse with the world, he has learned nothing

of human nature, and he thinks to govern men by fear and brute force,

rather than by reason, persuasion or kindness. There is nothing

conciliating in his disposition, but in all his discussions with his

passengers, he talks in a spirit of rude dictation and of defiance. He

seldom speaks a kind word to his sailors, and has acquired the hearty

hatred of them all. He hates Dana and his "Two years before the Mast,"

because Dana's sympathies are enlisted on the side of the oppressed

seamen, and against tyrannical ship-masters. He hates Edward Kent, our

Consul at Rio, for the same reason. He is strongly tinctured with those

superstitions that characterize the ignorant portion of his class. In

politics he is a rabid loco-foco, a blind worshiper of Andrew Jackson,

whom he has been taught to call a second Washington. But his chief

political knowledge consists in a number of slang phrases and slurs,

which he threw out with great liberality in the former part of the

voyage, but which were answered in a manner that taught him a little

circumspection in the use of his favorite weapons. Such is the man, to

whose arbitrary will we are bound to submit during this long voyage.

But we believe him to be a cautious and skillful navigator; and if we

see in him a total absence of every characteristic of a gentleman,

of every qualification requisite to make an agreeable commander of

a passenger-ship, we are happy to find some compensation for these

defects in his watchfulness and care.

_July 6._ Approaching the harbor of Talcahuana, we saw a large broken

yard with several ropes attached to it, floating within a few rods

of the ship. From the fresh appearance of the fracture, I perceived

that it had recently been broken. A casual remark dropped by one of

the passengers, that some vessel had probably been wrecked in one of

the storms we had lately encountered, and the spar was passed and

forgotten. But what a history of suffering and despair may there be

connected with that spar! Perhaps it belonged to our acquaintance at

Rio, the North America. She may have been wrecked on this coast, and

her five hundred souls have been sunk in the waves or dashed on the

rocks. In their efforts to save themselves, may not some of them have

been lashed to this very yard? Perhaps, as the vessel went to pieces,

and one after another was swallowed up, the lives of a few may have

been prolonged beyond those of their fellow sufferers. And oh! what an

hour of horror must that have been to them! What thoughts of deep and

bitter anguish did they send to the homes they had seen for the last

time, and to the wives, daughters, mothers, sisters and friends, to

whom they had bidden farewell forever! What ages of intense agony must

have been concentrated and endured in the few hours, perhaps minutes,

those sufferers lay lashed to that spar, and saw, one after another,

their companions expire! May not this vessel have been lost in one of

the storms that nearly drove us ashore upon the coast of Patagonia? How

near may we have been to sharing the same fate with them? And may we

not, even now, after having escaped so many dangers, be reserved for

the same or a worse doom? Such or similar reflections naturally arise

in one's mind at the sight of a floating mast or spar at sea. I have

often seen them, but never before one so new, and bearing such certain

indications of a recent shipwreck.

We are in a state of excitement consequent on approaching a port after

our long voyage, and there is much preparation making for going ashore;

washing, which has been but slightly performed during our cold passage,

shaving, and cutting hair. Our chests and trunks are overhauled, and

clean shirts and the best pants are selected. It is "washing day" too

with the women, who have obtained some fresh water for their purpose.

Even Mrs. L----t, who has hitherto manifested a very idle disposition,

has gathered up a quantity of her child's garments, and proves that she

is not incompetent to perform the duties of the wash-tub, while Captain

J. stands like a sentinel over her, engaged in a low, but earnest

conversation, attracting the attention, and exciting the remarks of the

company, by his ridiculous manifestations of a silly lover's foolish

fondness.

The sight of a landscape is always delightful to me, but it is

particularly so after having been so long at sea. We have had many

views of the coast during our passage from Rio, but they have been only

those of naked and barren rocks, desolate shores, and snow-covered

mountains. Now we begin again to behold symptoms of vegetable life. The

sides of a high hill we have passed, though there is no sign of a human

habitation near it, have the appearance of cultivated fields and thick

forests. And some of the trees have a shade of light green, reminding

us of fields of wheat in Maine, and suggesting many thoughts of home to

us. Yonder, as far as the eye can reach, is a point of land rising to

the view. And as we approach it, there are seen two beautifully rounded

hills. We have examined the chart, and find these hills to be the "Paps

of Bio-bio," and Talcahuana lies several miles beyond them. We had

hoped to reach that port to-day, but now we find the distance too great

to be accomplished by daylight, and as Captain J. has never been there,

he will not risk the passage by night. So, despite our impatience, we

have no alternative but to sail up to the entrance to the harbor, and

lay off and on till morning.

_July 7._ We entered the harbor of Talcahuana at ten o'clock in the

morning, and spent the remainder of the day in beating up to the town

against a head wind, a distance of about twenty miles. Our entrance

to this port was signalized by a very interesting event, nothing

less than my first sight of that monster bird, the Brown Pelican.

(_Pelicanus fuscus._) A great flock of sea birds were hovering over

the water, and centering to one point, probably attracted by some

substance on which they were feeding. The passengers watched them with

great interest. We sailed very near them before they left the spot,

when, to my great gratification, I saw a dozen pelicans, with their

immensely long bills and great pouches, rise up and fly away with the

flock. Never before had I seen such an unwieldy bird on wings, and it

seemed a wonder that it could support such a ponderous body in the air.

But though ungainly in their appearance, they flew with considerable

velocity, and sustained their great weight and bulk with much ease. Our

company were all strangers to the bird, and with one exception none

could tell its name.

We dropped anchor within half a mile of the town amidst a fleet of

twelve ships and barks, several of which belonged to the United States.

We were immediately visited by the captain of the port, who was an

Englishman, attended by other officials, Chilians. We also received a

call from three other gentlemen, American merchants, formerly from New

York, Massachusetts and Ohio. They came on board to solicit business.

By invitation from one of them, Captain J. went on shore, and passed

the night with him; and the next day he took his _chere amie_, Mrs.

L----t, to the same house, where they tarried till we sailed. It was

gratifying to meet thus unexpectedly, a number of our own countrymen

in this far distant port, and to learn, as we did, that several other

Yankees were residents here.

_July 8._ A number of Chilian boats were along-side in the morning

for passengers. We speedily filled them, all of us eager to land,

our curiosity being highly excited in anticipation of the new and

strange things we were about to behold in this pretty town, as it

appeared to us from the ship. Judge then of my disappointment when

on landing I found myself in the most filthy and disgusting village

I ever beheld. A row of ill-looking houses, huts and shops stretched

along the bay for nearly a mile. Three very narrow, parallel streets

ran the length of the village, and were crossed at right angles by

other streets still narrower, and all filled with deep mud and filth.

A few large warehouses, stores, and dwellings, stood in the front

street, but all with a very few exceptions, only one-story high; and

in no single instance was there the least pretension to architectural

beauty. The houses were generally built in long ranges or blocks, and

so low that we could touch the eaves as we passed them. There were also

great numbers of little huts made of stakes driven into the ground,

interwoven with twigs, and plastered over with mud. A roof thatched

with coarse grass completed the dwelling. Many of the better buildings

had their roofs covered with coarse tiles. Besides the large warehouses

I have mentioned, which all belonged to foreigners, there were many

little shops containing a plentiful supply of liquors in bottles, and

some articles of dry goods. An open space for a square was left at

the back part of the village. To this square the inhabitants retreat

for safety in case of earthquakes. It was destitute of trees or any

other ornament. There was not, I believe, a single tree in the town;

but many clusters and thickets of shrubs grew in the fields and on

the hills, and gave a pleasant appearance to the country when viewed

at a distance. There were great numbers of houses of entertainment,

and from the signs hung out, one might readily judge what nation

contributes to their support. At any rate, it is amusing to see an

American in a far distant foreign port, to read in every street such

signs as the following: California Hotel, American Hotel, American

House, New Bedford House, New York Restaurant, Eagle Hotel, &c. I

went into several of them, and found them so excessively filthy, that

despite the keenness of my appetite, I could not eat, and made up my

mind that I must go back to the dirty bark for my dinner. But in the

course of my rambles, I saw several of our ship's company standing at

the door of a house of a better description than most of those I had

seen. The walls of this house bore the imposing sign, "Tremont House."

I could not resist the temptation to go in and inspect the premises.

First and foremost was a large bar well stocked with liquors. But as

this was not the principal object of my search, I passed on to the

dining-room, where I saw a table covered with a clean white cloth. My

resolution was formed, and I immediately booked my name for dinner. The

hour for dining was two. But before we sit down to the table, allow me

to introduce the proprietor of the house, and give you a description

of his dining-room and furniture. Our landlord was a Yankee, and had

been during many years master of a ship, till he anchored in this port,

took a Chilian girl for his wife, and turned Boniface. We dined in a

large square room lighted with two windows secured by iron grates, and

set in a stone wall nearly three feet thick,--these thick walls and

iron grates, as well as the single story in which the houses are built,

being a necessary protection against earthquakes. The windows were

shaded with cotton curtains, red and white. There were large, coarse,

double doors like those of a warehouse, the floor was paved with large

tiles, and the uncovered beams were festooned with a profusion of

cobwebs. A pile of boxes lay in one corner, a quantity of boxes and

barrels surmounted by an X bedstead, loaded with old saddles, occupied

another corner, rude side-tables with more old casks and boxes under

them, and a dining table with the clean table-cloth aforesaid, set for

twenty-five persons, with the same number of chairs, which had been

imported from Yankee Land,--these constituted the furniture of the

dining-room of the Tremont House, Talcahuana, Chili. Our company were

unanimously of the opinion that this style of furnishing an eating-room

was open to criticism; but we were not disposed to be fastidious or

captious; and had we been so, the display of the dinner upon the table

would have completely done away all disposition for fault finding.

Macaroni soup, roast beef, roast wild ducks, corned boiled beef,

potatoes, beets, squash, bread, pudding, &c., and wine. With such a

bill of fare before us, we quickly lost sight of the surroundings. It

was marvelous to witness the disappearance of these luscious viands

before twenty half starved mortals. But there was no lack of it, and

all were satisfied. The food was of an excellent quality and well

cooked. In fact one of our own fellow-passengers expressed a decided

preference for this dinner to a ten quart tin pan full of scouse on

board the James W. Paige. I made a hearty meal of roast duck, washed

down with a copious draught of weak wine, a production of the country.

Thus pleasantly terminated my ramble in search of a dinner. And if any

thing could overcome my chagrin at being landed in this contemptible

place, it would be such a dinner with such an appetite.

Round Cape Horn Voyage of the Passenger-Ship James W. Paige, from Maine to California in the Year 1852 · 第 8 / 13 章