Cape Frio--Arrive at Rio de Janeiro--Magnificent Harbour--An Hour
on Shore--Crucifix-bearers--Wooden Collars--The Captain’s good
Advice--Christmas Day--Plum-duff--Close-reefed Topsails--A Sight
of Tristan de Acunha--The Gun-boats cast off--Algoa Bay--Foul
Weather--Money landed in Surf-boats--Port Elizabeth at a
Distance--Discontent--Natal--A Snuffler--Simon’s Bay, Cape of Good
Hope--Romantic Scene--Bullock-wagons--A brooming Party--Savage
Landscape--A good Word for Government--Sailors’ Orchards--A fresh
Departure--Four Gun-boats--A Truant--Strait of Sunda--Boatswain
Birds--Anjeer--Java--Sumatra--Singapore--Something to laugh
at--Waterspout--Arrival at Hong-Kong--The Letter-bag--News from
Home.
On the 3rd of December we were close to Rio, so we painted the
_Highflyer’s_ outside, and touched her up here and there, in order
to present a neat appearance in harbour. While we were painting and
cleaning it had fallen calm, and we lay rolling about within sight of
Cape Frio and the distant mountains till the evening of the 6th, when a
light wind springing up carried us into the harbour. As we arrived and
anchored after dark I could not judge of the place, except where the
rows of lights reminded me of streets; and I turned in anxious to turn
out, and get a sight of much-talked-of Rio de Janeiro. My feelings,
after a long passage across the Atlantic, with rough duties, were very
joyous, and the scene inspired me with pleasurable emotions.
Daylight showed me the narrow entrance between two lofty hills, one
of which, from its shape, is called the Sugar Loaf, and the ranges of
solid-looking forts, within which the harbour suddenly widening spreads
itself like an extensive lake, sprinkled with many beautiful islands.
On the left appeared the city, with its fortifications and shipping;
on the right the open country, in all its vegetative richness, and
dotted with the gay villas of the luxurious planters. The city stands
on a tongue of land, the hills above it are covered with houses, public
buildings, churches, and many convents, surrounded by shady groves
and rich gardens. Seamen do not see much of foreign countries after
all, for I was ashore only about an hour. The streets are narrow, but
well paved and lighted, and have plenty of good shops. I observed
many little niches, containing an image of the Virgin Mary, which
poor people use as chapels. Beggars creep about, carrying ornamented
crucifixes, to which some of the passers-by make a bow, when of course
the beggar expects a fee.
We coaled here, and the lighters were brought alongside by blacks, some
of whom, lean and haggard, had shackles on their legs, others wore
wooden collars, heavily bound with iron. They looked so wretched, and
yet worked so hard, that we wished we could have done them some good.
Whether they were slaves, or only black convicts, I leave it for others
more learned than myself on the subject to say. For my part, though we
lay at Rio five days, I got no more than this little glimpse of the
Brazilian capital.
We went to sea with fine weather, and for many days had a quiet
monotonous life, varied in my own case by the captain sending for me
and giving me a little good advice, which I made up my mind to try to
keep. He ended by saying, “Be civil to all; be smart; and _always_ do
as you are told, then you will get on.” One effect of this kind word
was to make me a little less troublesome to the first-lieutenant.
Nothing occurred to break the dull routine of sea life till Christmas
Day, which of course I cannot pass over in silence. Our chaplain read
the Church Service, and preached a sermon, in the forenoon, and after
that was over all hands began to think about dinner. In our mess we had
a big ‘plum-duff,’ and a thundering sea-pie made with salt meat, and
a dessert of cakes and bananas. During dinner the captain was carried
round in a chair, and loudly cheered, according to general custom, the
band marching before him, playing, as if in mockery, the _Roast Beef of
Old England_. The afternoon was spent as we pleased; but in the evening
we illuminated the lower deck with candles, which shone famously, while
the captain came round and “spliced the main-brace,” after which the
hands cheered, and danced, and sang, till they were tired. Later in
the night, when nearly all on board were asleep, and all was quiet,
remembrances of home and kind faces sitting round the cheerful hearth
came strongly to my mind, and tears started to my eyes as I wished I
was among them. The whole day’s proceedings reminded me of a country
fair, and I was glad when all was over.
The same night, during the middle watch, it came on to blow hard; but
the captain objected to reef, as many of the hands were not sober,
from the effect of their revels, so the watch took in the small sails,
and lowered the topsails upon the cap; even then, and with the two
gun-boats in tow, our gallant ship foamed through the seething water
eleven and a half knots, and being rather light by the head she kept
her decks anything but dry. The next day saw us under close-reefed
topsails, with heavy sea and heavy drizzle. If the youngsters who read
this want to know what reefing topsails means, here is a notion. The
order, “Hands reef topsails!” is followed by a tremendous rush, each
one of us striving to be in the rigging before his fellow, treading on
one another’s fingers, hustling, and well-nigh capsizing a shipmate
out of the shrouds. Then holding on by the yard, we get out on the
foot-ropes, and gather up the sail as far as the reef-band, and hold
it firmly in our grasp, ready to tie the points, while the captain
of the top is hauling out the weather-earring, which must be always
secured first. All this time it may be raining hard, pelting into your
eyes and ears, running in a merry stream down your back; and the yard
strains and jerks with the furiously flopping sail till you are all but
knocked off. As soon as the weather-earring is hauled out, “Haul out to
leeward” is the cry, and the lee-earring is tied; then the impatient
officer below sings out, “Sheet home;” “hoist away;” and before you
are barely clear of the yard, the ‘sheets’ are close ‘home,’ and the
sail rehoisted. You descend to the deck again, the ship staggers on
under her lessened canvas, the rain still pelts down upon you, and the
loose bottoms of your trousers carry off little rivulets of water.
Such watches as these did not tend to make us amiable; and look out
for squalls if you put a messmate out in dirty weather. We used to
stand pretty much as a donkey does in the middle of a field, silent and
sullen; and when the watch was relieved we were always ready to dive
below, and get a shift of dry clothes.
On the 6th we sighted at a great distance the island of Tristan de
Acunha; it loomed very big in the evening light. Some of our men said
that it rises in a sheer precipice six hundred feet above the sea. I
noticed plenty of seaweed to-day, and also the beautiful blue tint of
the water in some parts, and its exceeding clearness. In calm weather
we could see the fishes fathoms deep below the surface.
On the 16th we cast off our two gun-boats, giving them orders to
proceed to Simon’s Bay, while we headed away for Port Natal, with a
slashing breeze on the ‘quarter.’ The next morning, getting well in,
we could see the coast very plainly, bold and mountainous, generally
sloping away to the sea, and well wooded, but no signs of habitations.
Early on the morning of the 22nd we arrived under steam, and amid
tremendous rain, at Algoa Bay; and here was a pretty place to lie,
such a tremendous surf rolling in and breaking in hollow booming waves
against the beach. The ship, pitching continually, took heavy seas over
the bows and through the hawse-pipes, which flooded our lower deck. All
night we kept anchor watch, and had plenty to do in swabbing the lower
deck and keeping it free from water. Our watch kept on hard at it every
minute of the four hours, and I was not sorry when eight bells struck
and we were relieved. I needed no rocking to send me to sleep, and I
slept too soundly to have ugly dreams.
We lay here three days before we could do anything, on account of the
heavy surf, and after all the money which we had to deliver was landed
in surf-boats, under the charge of an officer. As I did not go ashore I
could only see Port Elizabeth from a distance. It is built on the wild
slope overlooking the bay, without much regard to fitness of style. It
does, however, a great and thriving trade in wool and wine, and has two
churches, but how they get filled on Sundays in such a wild-looking
place is a question I’m not prepared to answer. The coloured people
offer a strange sight to a visitor as they warp him ashore in their
boats, with but a scanty show of clothing, and then up with him,
pick-a-back, and carry him across the broken water to the beach.
On the 25th we left for Natal. During the trip I had very gloomy and
dissatisfied thoughts, getting very sick of the company I was in,
and my mode of life. On the 1st of February we dropped anchor in the
roadstead of Natal. The country looked beautiful; fine gradually rising
hills, densely wooded, even to the water’s edge, and large tracts of
pasturage. As at other places along this exposed coast, merchandise and
passengers are generally landed by surf-boats, which are very buoyant,
and well adapted for their use. Not having a chance to go ashore, I saw
nothing of the settlement, but I heard it was very flourishing.
We sailed from here shortly after for our proper calling place, Simon’s
Bay, the port of the Cape of Good Hope, and had a capital run till
within a day of the Cape, when we encountered a regular snuffler, but
scudded before it under close-reefed main-topsail. The wind howled
fearfully among the cordage and rigging, and soon raised a heavy sea,
which sometimes made a clean breach right over the forecastle and
main-deck. To crown all, a misty, cutting sleet came on, and we were
tossing about, not exactly knowing our whereabouts, for two days. Then,
the gale abating and the fog dispersing, revealed to us the welcome
land. We were yet some miles distant, so we made all possible sail, but
the wind being light and ahead, we were all that day and part of the
next beating in; however, about eight o’clock in the evening of the
8th, we ‘let go’ our anchor in Simon’s Bay.
I was one of the first on deck the next morning, to look at the town.
It is prettily situated on the side of a lofty hill, which towers
grandly aloft, scantily clothed with herbage, and having rather a
wild-looking appearance. The outlines of grim hills in the distance,
the deep azure overhead, and the primitive look of the town, rendered
the scene quite romantic. The one principal street runs along the
foot of the hill, and houses are scattered some distance up its side;
this one street is very irregular, and in wet weather not favourable
to locomotion. A good trade is done with Cape Town, about twenty-five
miles distant; the goods are brought in wagons and carts, drawn by
bullocks or ponies. It is a nice sight to see twenty or thirty oxen,
mostly fine animals, drawing a lumbering wagon at a surprising rate
along a rocky and sandy road not yet acquainted with Macadam.
While lying here I was one of a brooming-party, who went away into
the country to cut stuff to make brooms for the ship’s use. How I did
enjoy it! It was a green spot in my heart for long after, and even now
I recal it with pleasure. Judging from what I saw on this excursion,
the country is of the same hilly nature farther inland. As we journeyed
along, gloomy-looking hills, covered with gorse and heath, rocks of
startling and almost unreal shapes cropping out in all directions, some
piled up almost symmetrically, and only wanting imagination to convert
them into a rude forest temple, others scattered, blackened, and riven,
as if blasted by the hand of some mighty destroyer, were the chief
features.
But what surprised me most was the almost total absence of living
sights and sounds; not a single whistle or chirrup did I hear to
disturb the savage solitude and silence. The only signs of life,
besides a few working parties of natives, were now and then a lonely
Hottentot farm, whose owner was invariably kind and hospitable,
and who appeared to be contented; for, said he, when asked how he
got on, “I makes pretty good money of what I sells, and I like the
Gov’ment.” These farms had generally a well-stocked orchard, which
some of our party treated as if it belonged to themselves, and came
away loaded with grapes, peaches, apples, and quinces, as many as they
could cram into the breasts of their blue frocks. The grapes were
large and luscious; and didn’t we quench our thirst with fruit while
returning along the rough hilly track, with our load of broom-stuff,
in the evening. In some places we saw a good many of the Cape sheep,
with their big tails, which seemed to be a wearisome drag. I was glad
to get so interesting a sight of Africa, as I had always a feeling
of mystery about it, whether on account of its vegetable world, its
mighty forests, or its probable future. I longed for another run on
shore, where fruit is so cheap, and fish in plenty may be had for
the catching. I had hoped, too, for a sight of Cape Town, and to get
letters from home, but the town was twenty-five miles distant, and not
a letter was there for me. Seamen and seaboys, however, have to bear
many a disappointment for the sake of duty.
On the 22nd we sailed for Singapore, with four gun-boats in company,
having to take on with us the _Haughty_ and _Forrester_, which the
_Cruiser_ had left behind, and did not stop to look after. And so
it went on, sometimes sail, sometimes steam, till the night of the
24th of March, when we lost one of our little fleet, and had to burn
blue-lights and fire signal-guns, but all to no purpose, for when
daylight appeared the truant was nowhere to be seen. She had dropped
astern at a surprising rate.
April found us still voyaging onwards. On the 12th we saw and passed
Christmas Island, at the entrance of the Strait of Sunda. It appeared
prodigiously wooded, and rose to a good height from the water. It
is not very large; apparently, I should say, about the size of the
Isle of Wight; it is about two hundred and eighty miles from Anjeer
Bay, and directly in the route through the Strait. Here we caught a
bird of a strange character, web-footed, and with plumage of snowy
whiteness. There were plenty of birds also hovering at a great height
above the ship, called, nautically, ‘boatswain birds,’ perhaps from
their uttering a note somewhat like that functionary’s call. They were
exceedingly pretty, having beautiful white diamond-shaped feathers in
the breast, and long forked tails; they glide about with very graceful
motions, and often follow a ship for miles. We arrived in the evening
of the next day at Anjeer, and in the morning numbers of small boats
put off. Eggs, luscious peaches, pine-apples, guavas, and melons,
so tempting as to make one’s mouth water to look at them, and all
remarkably cheap. A couple of fine fowls can be got for a shilling. On
looking ashore but few houses can be seen on account of the density
of the foliage, groves of plantain, coffee, spice, and other precious
trees, lining the shore to within a yard of the water’s edge. The
island has a fine appearance, rising majestically in the interior to
the height of mountains among which lie beautiful valleys and fruitful
plains, glowing in all the glories of a luxuriant tropical vegetation.
As we were on the point of heaving the anchor up for departing, our
lost gun-boat rejoined us. When she parted from us she was driven by
the gale into St. Paul’s, where the captain took in a great stock
of salt fish, in case he might not fall in with his consort again,
and then made all possible speed to Java Head, and just in time: had
we been an hour sooner in our arrangements, or he an hour later, we
might not have met again this side Hong-Kong, if ever he got there. Of
course she was immediately taken in tow; for, said our captain to her
commander, “I’m determined you shan’t be lost again;” and, with one or
two exceptions, we towed her continuously from Anjeer to Hong-Kong,
about 1250 miles. As we progressed under steam through the Strait, we
left behind us Sumatra and Java, and many other and smaller islands,
with low-lying shores and a wonderful growth of tangled vegetation,
that seemed as if it rejoiced under the tremendous heat that made us
all feel so lazy and envious of the cool depths where the shadows of
the dense foliage slept far down beneath the unrippled surface of the
water. It is in such times as these that the seaman’s patience is
sorely tried, and his baser or nobler traits called forth. The sun
strikes down with intense heat, no friendly cloud tempering his rays;
the deck is unbearably hot to the naked feet; the pitch in the sides
and seams of the deck melts and oozes out; the tar drops from the
rigging; the very anchors at the bows become too hot to be touched, and
over oneself comes such an intense feeling of drowsiness and lassitude,
that it positively requires an effort even to speak, and one feels
happiest when able to lie down. Fortunately, being under steam, we had
but little going aloft. Coleridge hit the very thing in his _Ancient
Mariner_.
About the middle of April we heard of the disturbances in China for the
first time, and also what kind of work we might expect there; but I
felt very jolly, and was rather glad I was going to smell powder than
otherwise.
We anchored, upon our arrival in Singapore, about two miles from
the shore, so that all I could make out was a confused mass of
houses, surrounded by trees, and what appeared to be well-cultivated
plantations and patches of woodland. A large number of the inhabitants
are Chinese, who, with their usual avidity, are trading and working
incessantly. Most of the boating work is done by Chinese coolies, who
are “notorious thieves,” but who work hard. The flags of almost every
nation may be seen waving in the breeze from the different shipping
which lie in the port. The next day, Sunday the 26th, gave us no rest.
We worked as hard then as any other day; it was the first time that I
had not observed a Sunday properly, or been exempt from ordinary duty;
and in the evening we steamed away from Singapore with our four charges.
About four days after we had been out a laughable incident occurred,
which some may not think very likely, but nevertheless it was so. About
two bells in the last ‘dog-watch,’ the man at the mast-head sung out,
“Boat on the starboard bow!” This, of course, put us all on the alert,
and we might have been seen in eager expectancy and various attitudes
leaning over the netting, or sitting on the bulwarks, but sure enough
there was the boat, and the men plainly discernible, about two miles
from us. Of course our imagination was worked up as to the boat--how
did it come there?--and at last, as the people in the boat seemed very
apathetic, some hazarded a conjecture as to its being a boat at all;
the majority were certain it was; and the first-luff gave orders for
the side-ropes to be rove, and everything in readiness to receive the
strangers. Of course we put out of our course and steamed towards it;
and when we were about within hail, what should it prove to be but a
log of timber, with seven large birds on it, which flew away as we
passed them. This occasioned a general laugh, of course, so certain had
every one been as to its being a boat. The intense heat may have lent a
hand to help the deception.
Our next visitor was a large waterspout, but it didn’t pass within a
dangerous distance of us; my idea of it was certainly more grand and
startling than the reality. And so at last we reached the end of our
long voyage, and about ten o’clock on the morning of the 13th of May
we steamed into the harbour of Hong-Kong with our four ducklings,
and, steering close to the admiral, anchored under his stern, after
a voyage from England of seven months sixteen days. We had sailed in
all 19,175 miles, and, considering we had towed the gun-boats 14,000
miles, and brought them safe to port, we had reason to be satisfied
with our passage. Our bag of letters came on board, and I had a rare
bundle: it was just dinner-time, but I didn’t care now for the fat
pork and biscuit. I took my letters, and went and sat down between two
guns, when I found I had a letter and paper for every mail since my
departure. I was soon deep in their contents, and forgot in them my
disappointment at the Cape.