A Deck-hand on Board the _Eldorado_—A Socialist—A Fo’c’sle Fight—Buying
an Island—Apemama—King Tembinok—The _Eldorado_ sails—Tembinok’s
Palace—Seeking the Enemy—The captured Chief—The Hurricane
IN Sydney long ago I shipped as deck-hand on board the _Eldorado_, a
schooner bound for Fiji and the Gilbert Groups. The first night out we
squared the yards; the wind was aft and the canvas bellied out steadily
as we dipped along under the stars at a good eight knots.
On board, as saloon passenger, was a Mr Milburn, a socialistic crank of
the theorist school. He was aboard on the outlook for an island which he
could buy and which would suit a socialistic colony, and he had got it
into his head that Apemama was a likely spot to start his scheme. The
skipper, a Yankee with long face and billygoat whiskers, was mostly
drunk, and would stand on the poop aft, telling Milburn that the King of
Apemama was an old pal of his and he knew for a positive fact that he
wanted to sell his dominion. Milburn’s blue eyes shone with delight as
the skipper listened to him and kept saying: “The very thing, the very
spot! I guess you’ll be glad yer shipped aboard here when yer see the
isles,” and then he would smack Milburn on the back, for they were
having high jinks in the cabin aft. Milburn had plenty of money and gave
it freely to the skipper, who could hardly conceal his satisfaction as
he opened bottle after bottle of whisky and gave us cigars.
We arrived in due course at Suva, Fiji. Milburn went ashore and looked
around and was delighted with all he saw. The skipper kept close to him
and said: “I guess if you like this d——d place you’ll go daft with joy
when you see Apemama.” We only stayed two days at Fiji and then left for
the group of islands of which Apemama was one. With fair winds we made a
quick trip and soon dropped anchor off the lagoon isle. Milburn, through
a telescope, gazed enthusiastically across the lagoon and on to the
atolls and groves of distant waving coco-palms; the skipper stood beside
him and, as Milburn gazed, smacked him on the back and nudged him in the
ribs, saying: “I guess that’ll suit you right enough, eh?” He told
Milburn to leave the purchasing to him and the isle would soon be
Milburn Isle, the socialistic El Dorado of the South Seas.
I instinctively knew that the skipper was on some scheme, and I had
discovered that he was the biggest liar on earth and sea, so when he
said that he knew that Milburn could purchase Apemama I had my own
doubts; but Milburn was a bit soft, treated the skipper with drink and
money in advance and had positive faith in his promises.
Later Milburn and I sat on the cabin settee and had a whisky each. We
liked each other, for, to tell the truth, we were the only respectable
members of polite society on board, for the crew was made up of two or
three Americans or negroes, three Polynesians, a half-blood, a lascar
and a Dutch American. I felt a bit out of sorts, for the night before
there had been a terrible row in the fo’c’sle while the crew were
sitting around their bench, shuffling and playing cards by the oil
fo’c’sle lamp.
I was standing smoking and watching, when suddenly I was astonished to
see them all jump off their feet and start a regular tribalistic battle;
one had been caught cheating and they took sides. You never saw such a
jumbled sight of struggling figures as the shadows of knives danced on
the walls. A white man fell on top of a half-blood, who fastened his
yellowish teeth into his opponent’s ear; he wouldn’t let go, and the
white pounded away at his face with his clenched fists, as the
half-blood tugged and chewed away at his ear. As the American punched
him he cried out: “Yer-rrrr-rr-ip! Yerrr-rr-ip!” and the white man
shouted: “You d——d —— —— ——,” and many more things, only to be described
in dashes. A Chinaman who was shouting: “Kee-Honk! Chow k-rrr—Chrry!”
suddenly fell, as an empty hundred-pound beef tub hit him behind the
ear. He was buried overboard that same night; and what with one thing
and another, as I said before, I was a bit out of sorts and glad of a
little whisky for medicinal purposes. Milburn also was a bit shaky. The
skipper had shot the tip of the half-blood’s chin off and then the
matter ended, and all I got out of it was a lost tooth and the knowledge
that white men in a passion get purply red in the neck and foamy at the
mouth, and that the eyes of the savage races turn yellowish and their
brown lips whitish.
The skipper, who had gone on shore, returned at sunset with four canoes
crammed with natives, and a solemn-looking old chap with a large,
flattish nose, wide nostrils and a wrinkled face expressing chimpanzee
astuteness. He was introduced to Milburn, as his half-naked form
clambered up the rope gangway and he leapt on deck. To my surprise I
heard that he was King Tembinok.
With a retinue of dusky courtiers, dressed in cast-off shirts, in Indian
file behind him, he strutted along the deck, gazed almost scornfully at
the crew, who were specially mustered to pay respect to royalty, and
then looked us all up and down as though we were a menagerie group on
show. Royally did he carry himself, demanding little attentions from his
retinue, who obeyed his every wish with alacrity. He swung a huge
war-club to and fro, as though his whole being itched to find fault and
brain the first native who might, to his intense relief, mistake his
hurried orders.
“You Misser Milbur, who want to buy island?” he said, gazing up at
Milburn, who looked slightly embarrassed as he bowed, while the skipper
rubbed his hands together and smiled with inward satisfaction. “Yes,
your Majesty, such is my wish, if your dominion is for sale.” At this
the King bowed graciously and said: “Good isles, much land, plenty
houses and coco-palms, but me sell to white man if the money ’nough.” “I
have come specially from Australia to buy an island, and your land is
most suitable, and I have the money to buy it,” Milburn answered. King
Tembinok bowed once more, till the royal robe of tappu-cloth touched the
deck in front of his feet and revealed his bare legs behind him. His
beady, intelligent eyes rolled with delight, and somewhat destroyed his
majestic bearing, as the skipper bowed him and Milburn into the dining
saloon. He turned his head, spat in the tiny calabash that his orderly
ever held behind him, and disappeared.
I don’t know the exact details of what passed in the cabin, but the King
eventually came out on deck blind drunk, with four bottles of whisky and
rum, two bottles under each arm. His retinue tied ropes round him, and
his big dark lips slobbered and grinned as they slowly lowered his royal
carcass down into the boat. The skipper leaned over the side and
shouted, telling them to clear off ashore.
It appeared that Milburn had bought the island and given the King a
large amount in cash as a deposit, and had also given a hundred pounds
to the skipper as commission and for his kindness and help in the
transaction.
The sun had set, and Milburn was a bit the worse for whisky, and anxious
to get ashore and see the island, which was only natural. The skipper
looked a bit uneasy and tried to persuade him to go to bed and go ashore
on the morrow, but he was determined, and as the skipper went into his
cabin Milburn called the native occupants of a canoe that was hovering
by the ship’s bows and bargained with them to take him ashore. He begged
me to go with him, and at last I accepted the offer, for I also was
eager to have a look round, and in a tick I slid down the rope and off
we went towards the shore.
With a jerk the canoe touched the reef and we jumped ashore. Before us
lay groves of moonlit coco-palms, pandanus and island pines; behind us
the silvered breakers were charging and curling over the lines of coral
reefs as we tramped together up the shore. Milburn’s mouth opened with
excitement and pleasure. “Dear, dear,” he said, as his eyes gleamed with
delight about the bargain he had made. Side by side we stood on the
plateau and gazed on the glimmering island landscape, looking at the
natives and their children moving about near their den-like homes. I,
too, felt some of Milburn’s enthusiasm, for the isle seemed a very
paradise of peace and quiet. I almost envied the socialist colonist,
who, I thought, would soon live at Apemama, and I made up my mind to
stick to Mr Milburn, for I saw that he would soon be the reigning
monarch and my influential friend.
Not far off glimmered the whitish terraced stockade of the King’s
palace. “Come on,” said Milburn, “we will go and see the King; he’s a
good fellow and by now will be sober.” Saying this he led the way, and
the natives, who had answered our inquiries with awestruck eyes,
followed us as we passed by the palms and kicked the sand up with our
boots, our monstrous shadows gliding across the still moonlit lagoon as
we went by. Little native children came with their dark mothers from the
native homes among the palm-trees and looked at us with awestruck eyes.
As we strode on Milburn’s walk became almost majestic, as he thought of
his kingship over that island, and I must admit I felt a bit swaggery
too over my prospects. It was excusable, though, in me, for I had had
many ups and downs, and all the bread I had cast on the waters had
returned to me after many days, buttered with phosphorus paste, so to
speak.
Soon we were asking the high chiefs if we could see the King. At first
they demurred, and held a council by the stockade gate. Milburn tried to
explain to them that the island was now his. “You no savee,” he said, as
they guarded the entrance and looked at him fiercely and curiously. “No
see King,” they replied, but Milburn put a silver coin into the hand of
the head vassal, and then at once, with much ceremony, we entered
through the stockades of coral rock and bamboo posts and went up by the
palisade that led to his Majesty’s palace bungalows. Four high chiefs
accompanied us, with ponderous war-clubs that enforced the laws of
Apemama. At the end of the winding pathway, shaded by palms, they all
stopped and said: “You want see King Tembinok?” “Yes,” said Milburn,
showing great irritation at the delay and absurd ceremony that we had to
go through to seek the King’s presence; for had not the King a few hours
before embraced him and departed from the _Eldorado’s_ decks very drunk?
Again we all moved on. Walking through a narrow archway we entered the
royal waiting chamber; it was high-roofed for a South Sea palace, and
thick tappu-cloth curtains divided it from the room wherein King
Tembinok sat. “He does things in style,” said Milburn, as we looked
round and listened to four Apemama females who sat by the royal doorway,
twanged strings fastened across gourds and sang songs that told of love
and the mighty deeds of Tembinok’s ancestors. “I wonder if he’s sober,”
I muttered, thinking to myself how different and austere all looked from
what I had anticipated. Suddenly the leading chief, who was in front of
us, said: “Tereoaka” (“white man”). Then we watched, for he turned and
said something to us that intimated that the King was approaching. The
thick tapestry curtain suddenly divided; my heart beat rapidly. King
Tembinok stood before us! At first Milburn instinctively looked over and
beyond the King’s shoulder, for we had not yet realised that he was the
King; then in a moment I saw it all; the old liar of a skipper had
brought a dummy king on to the ship and Milburn had been done! Milburn
seemed dazed, then once more loudly demanded to see the King! Tembinok
stared fiercely at him. I gave Milburn a nudge, but he seemed to lose
his head and shouted once again: “Where the hell’s the King?” The King,
thinking he was mad, in a loud voice shouted a command in his own
language; at once all the chiefs raised their clubs and the royal
serenading of the palace harem suddenly ceased! I lifted my hands and
made rapid signs, and in my fright pointed to my own head, to intimate
that Milburn was insane. I thought it the only thing to do, for his sake
and mine also. Tembinok seemed to understand me, but he stood before us
wrinkling and frowning fiercely at Milburn’s manner. He had been
disturbed from his sleep. His tall form was robed in a discarded
man-o’-war’s uniform and his corpulence bulged it considerably. His
sleepy eyes still looked fierce as he gazed upon us, and then Milburn
shouted: “I’ve bought this island! Where’s the late King?” Tembinok
could understand a little English, and on hearing this stared speechless
with amazement, then lifted his hand as though to give Milburn a clout.
Milburn was a fool, but no coward, and I really believe he would have
gone for Tembinok if I had not hurriedly grasped him and shouted: “You
blind ass, the skipper’s done you. This _is_ King Tembinok.” Not till I
said that did Milburn see the whole situation, and then, to my great
relief, he breathed out: “Well, I’m d——d.” Then, by gesticulations and
pidgin-English, we told Tembinok all, at which he became most courteous
and invited us to come ashore on the morrow and look round the palace.
Milburn was almost mad with rage and itching to get back to the ship to
have a reckoning with the Yankee skipper. I saw that he was, after all,
not the kind of man to be done, and that he believed in getting his
money’s worth and being boss in his own line, notwithstanding his
theories on socialism. We both grasped Tembinok’s hand and accepted his
kind invitation to call at the palace the next day; and then the high
chiefs, wondering at the whole business, rolled their banana-leaf
cigarettes between their fingers, bowed and led us out of the royal
presence and through the gates of the palace stockades.
We hurried down to the shore; all was silent except a few natives
singing as they took a moonlight bathe in the waves. We looked across
the lagoon and both stared; the ship was gone! Seaward, like a bird with
many wings, fast disappearing under the brilliant moon, we saw afar the
_Eldorado_ taking advantage of the breeze; for the skipper was crowding
on all sail. He had flown!
I will not tell you what Milburn and I said. Heaven will forgive us; it
was unprintable. All our belongings were on board too! We were both
stranded, and the skipper had made the most profitable voyage of his
life. We told the natives to keep a lookout for the next trading-boat
and, side by side, without saying a word, but deep in thought, we went
back to the palace.
Tembinok had been thinking the matter over in our absence and was in a
great rage at being impersonated. He was a wonderful-looking old fellow,
with bright eyes, a keen yet half-humorous expression and slightly full
lips. He carried himself as though he was the one and only king on
earth. He at once invited us to stop till a boat came and gave us a
chance to go away. It was well for the skipper that he had gone, for I
really believe the ship would have been bombarded that same night by the
native King’s battalions, so great was the royal rage. We gave Tembinok
a description of the sham king, and then some natives, who had come
aboard, accepted a bribe and told all; he was a Marquesan chief who then
lived on the neighbouring Isle Kuria and was a deadly enemy of Tembinok.
A war council was held and things began to look much brighter than I
expected for Milburn, who promised to give me a hundred pounds if I
stuck to him and helped him get some of his deposit back, and also a bit
of his own back off that fraudulent king.
That night we stopped at the palace. Poor old Milburn looked pale and
almost cried when he thought of how he had been done, and I could see
that he had set his heart on getting the island. Tembinok turned out a
good sort; the fierce expression of his countenance had changed to one
of majestic benevolence, as he gazed upon us and we humbly sat on mats
before him. “You buy island?” he said, and then with a most conspicuous
attempt at concealing his cynical amusement solemnly gave orders to his
head wives, who sang to him and fanned off the droves of mosquitoes that
attacked his eyes and face.
The palace contained many rooms, through which crept barefooted native
girls busily attending to the numerous requirements of the head queen.
She was a fat, oily-looking woman, of about forty years of age, who put
on terrible side and blinked her eyes as we surveyed her respectfully.
Two eunuchs kept blowing cooling breath on to her perspiring body, for
the little wind that blew was extremely hot.
We slept nearly all next day and then went to see the neighbouring
villages; the natives had comfortable wooden homes (_maniaps_) built on
posts, open at the sides to let the wind in. We soon tired, and again
returned that night to the palace and were then allowed, for the first
time, to go over the various rooms. I was astonished at all we saw, for
it was furnished well with native and European furniture. It seemed hard
to believe that the memory of the King could go back to cannibalism and
strangulating festivals; indeed, such things were still practised in
moderation. On the walls hung clubs, muzzle-loading rifles and many
murderous weapons of savage warfare and law.
A pretty maid blew weird music through a bone flute, serenading the
queen, who moved her fat lips in lisping murmurs of melody, while six
squatting maidens waved their long arms and sang. On the wooden walls
the shadows of the pandanus and palms waved in the brilliant moonlight
that lit the palace glooms.
No king in the South Seas lived in such royal state as Tembinok; he
reigned supreme in his terraced seraglio and lived a life of luxury and
command, a life that to Western minds would seem one of selfish
debauchery and fiery lust, but by the code of South Sea morals was one
of extreme virtue and moderation amounting to self-sacrifice.
Milburn gasped with horror as a Samoan attendant told us of Tembinok and
his ancestors. With their own hands they had strangled wives and
concubines who had given elsewhere that which was destined for the royal
favour only. In some of the bed-chambers still lay the bones of the
victims who had been sharers in the offence, for they were buried under
the floor matting. They were generally chiefs who had met their end,
through some slight suspicion, from the club of Tembinok or his
ancestors who reigned before him. They would creep by night into the
supposed culprit’s sleeping-room and crash his skull in while he slept.
Often down those very corridors, where Milburn and I sat listening,
crept, in the dead of night, files of harem wives, stealthily moving
towards the woman who it was suspected had given herself up to other
than the king. With exultation alight in their eyes they would do
Tembinok’s bidding, for jealousy of each other was their one pronounced
virtue, and seldom was more than one stifled scream heard, as they
clutched the sleeping victim on her bed-mat, all their hands struggling
in rivalship together to strangle the sleeping concubine who had
betrayed their master. As the Samoan from Apia, who was employed at the
palace, told us all this, Milburn and I felt a bit uncomfortable about
our own presence, and I looked carefully at the revolver which I always
carried with me. Then I had several drinks from Milburn’s flask, and
that and the thought of the hundred pounds he had promised me stifled my
qualms; we went off to our allotted apartments, slept close together
and, to our great satisfaction, survived the night.
Fortunately I had several plugs of ship’s tobacco and so secured the
friendship of chiefs of high ancestral standing. I held the plugs
tightly in my hand and they each in turn bit off the allowance I
allotted them. They seemed very proud men and kept saying, “Me great
chief,” and giving details of their ancestry, for having no _Peerage_ or
_Who’s Who_ they were obliged to remind people, to keep the old names
going.
It was a beautiful isle, and next morning I felt glad to be with Milburn
there and felt extremely happy; birds sang up in the pandanus-trees,
sunlight danced on coral-floored waters, the very fish seemed happy as
they leapt in the still lagoons. Milburn said he would like to stay
there all his life, and for a while he forgot his sorrows; and well he
might, for I knew that if he persevered in trying to get his money back
he would have plenty of trouble in store for him. “When I get my deposit
back I’ll stop and go cruising these seas,” he said, and I agreed to go
with him.
On the slopes by Tembinok’s palace romped the native children, while the
Apemama maids sewed dress material into new designs, for the fashion
changed and the ridis would be increased by one inch, or reduced, or an
extra tassel added. The chief characteristic of Apemama ladies was not
modesty, but the bareness of their curved figures served as steel armour
to protect their loose virtue; for the rumours of punishments that had
been dealt out for amorous crimes made white men and brown men alike
regard the maiden bareness with horror.
That day Tembinok and his war council decided to go with a fleet of
canoes to Kuria and seek the chief who had aided our skipper in his
cruel duplicity. Milburn heard this decision with delight, but, to tell
the truth, I must confess that my joy was considerably damped when the
council added that we also should go with them to seek and attack the
enemy. We did not like to appear afraid, so we asked for a little time
to decide, and finally told the high chief to tell Tembinok that we
would follow the fleet of canoes in a boat some distance behind!
During the day the sun shone down on the isle in dazzling tropic flame;
the whole town lazily lolled and snoozed in the shades of the palms or
by the piazzas of their homes, by groves of bananas and pandanus. In the
afternoon, to kill time, we went for a row in a native boat across the
lagoon and up and down the creeks and shallows of the atolls. The water
was as clear as crystal, and we could look over the boat’s side and see
numerous brightly coloured fish darting and hovering among the
scintillating seaweeds that waved gently over floors of sparkling
corals; and as we watched it seemed that we looked through a vast
magnifying-glass at forests or worlds far away, as branches shone with
rich crimson, green, indigo or blue deep down in those depths that shone
like some magic world blazed up by rainbows.
To our delight and relief, for we were both deep in thought over the
coming battle, before sunset the sails of a schooner came through the
sky-line, and before the stars hung in the darkening blue over the sea
she was ploughing toward us, within five miles of the immense island
lagoon.
It had been arranged that the High Chief Taku and fifty warriors should
put off at dusk to seek the enemy. It all seemed like a dream to me; I
had to shake myself to realise the position, for it seemed more like
some tale from fiction than reality. But it was real enough, for there
stood Milburn in the flesh before me, talking to the natives. I found
that their great incentive to help us was Milburn offering to buy cargo
for them all as soon as the next trading ship called at Apemama. The
cargoes consisted chiefly of trifles, ornaments, old tickless clocks,
muzzle-loaders, tobacco and artificial jewellery; the latter adorned the
bodies of the whole tribe and was the chief dress of marriageable maids.
“What’s the good of this game, Mr Milburn?” I said, as darkness fell and
I saw the natives filling their canoes with ammunition—war-clubs, and
old-fashioned muzzle-loading rifles. “Are you determined to go?” “Most
decidedly,” he replied, “and after I have settled with this case I’ll
settle with your skipper.” “Right you are,” I answered.
At dusk the canoes shoved off the silver sands and put to sea. Milburn
and I, armed to the teeth, in an old ship’s boat, bravely crept behind.
It was a clear, starlit night; so bright were the stars that they looked
like flowers of flame in the deep, dark blue vault; our shadows glided
through the waters that mirrored the heavens as we paddled by. As we
passed the schooner, that had anchored at sunset, out came a boat to
meet us, and then I saw that Milburn was a careful man and also why he
was so brave. He had been aboard and told the skipper all, and arranged
for them to watch for us and come and convey our boat across to Kuria. I
dare say they all got a good tip from him.
When at length we arrived the natives crept by a lagoon; Milburn and I
sat in the boat silent with excitement, as we smoked, kept a sharp
outlook and waited results. Taku knew where the enemy lived. The whole
horde crept to his hut and discovered him fast asleep, blind drunk; he
had just finished up the remaining rum that Milburn had given him on the
ship.
As we watched from the boat we saw our army on the shore, struggling
along, bearing a burden with them. It was the fictitious king bound and
lashed hands and feet. Milburn surveyed him, at first with rage and then
with curiosity, and I felt rather sorry for him: he looked so different
to what he did when he had scornfully gazed at us on the decks of the
_Eldorado_. He rolled his eyes, slowly realised his position and hung
his head, looking extremely pathetic as he blinked his eyes like a
whipped dog and looked at us appealingly for mercy. Milburn and I went
to his hut, discovered nearly all the cash and came back quickly to the
boat. “You killee me?” he said, and looked steadily at us. “I say,
Milburn,” I said, “if you take him back to Apemama Tembinok will club
him, and you must remember he’s only a native, and after all the
skipper’s to blame.” “I know that,” said Milburn; and then I added: “To
tell you the truth, I rather admire this old chief, when I think of the
clever way he simulated kingship and took us all in.” Milburn relented;
indeed I think he would have done so without my saying anything. “Unbind
him,” he said. For a while the astonished natives stared, and then they
unbound him, and Milburn said: “You can go.” For a moment the chief
looked as though he did not understand, then gave us both a glance of
real gratitude and walked off majestically, but rather fast, in case we
changed our minds.
The natives got their cargo from the schooner in the bay and I received
my hundred pounds. Tembinok saw us off; we booked as passengers on the
_Bella_, for that was the name of the schooner that came in the nick of
time to relieve our minds for the night attack. We eventually arrived at
Honolulu.
Twelve months after I met Milburn again in Sydney and he turned out a
good friend to me. He never saw the skipper of the _Eldorado_ again, for
the man left his ship and went off to South America, I think.
I heard of Milburn a little later on as going off to Paraguay on the
s.s. _R——_, which was especially fitted out for taking a modern
_Mayflower_ crew to start a socialistic republic, soon started and soon
ended, for the colony turned out as miserable a failure as when Milburn
bought Apemama.
Milburn was not my friend’s real name; it seems wiser not to give that
here, in this account of our experiences together in the South Seas. One
name he deserved, that of a brave comrade and a gentleman.
After my adventures with Milburn I left Honolulu in a large schooner
which was bound for Suva. We had only been out three days when a
hurricane struck us. A Cape Horn slasher was nothing compared to the
weather we experienced. I was standing on deck smoking with several of
the crew; some of them were natives. A soft breeze came up and increased
till the elements moaned with a steady hum, as the sails bellied out
like drums and the foamy manes of white horses tossed away in the
sunset; then with a thundering moan the hurricane’s breath struck us.
The skipper yelled to us. “Aye, aye, sir,” we shouted back, for a
half-blood and I were aloft taking sail in; suddenly the boat lay over
and the rigging to leeward nearly touched the wave-crests.
Darkness slid over the ocean sky, tremendous seas came up, and the
schooner backed and shivered like a frightened mammoth thing as the
mountains of water jumped down on her deck. I fell forward on my face
beneath the liquid mass and gripped the deck with my fingers and teeth!
Crash! Crash! the boats were carried away. I heard my chum gasping and
spitting sea-water beside me. The sea cleared and the wind shot up my
legs—r-r-r—r-r-i-p—r-r—r-r-r-i-p! and my trousers split and nearly blew
away. We scrambled to our feet and clung to the ropes. “Hold on, lads,”
shouted the skipper, and we did hold on too! Scud was flying across the
sky and the moon travelling like a yellow racing balloon as the wrack of
mist flew under it. The phosphorescent blaze that lit the tossing foam
of the travelling mountains of water around us made it all look like a
ghostly scene of chaos ere creation; the winds cut the hissing wave-tops
off as though invisible giant swords flashed across the ghostly ocean
darkness. Then another sea came over, crash! right over the galley. The
cook was washed through the door, still clutching the pots that he had
been trying to keep on the galley stove. His rapid exit knocked us over
as he was washed by, and we all clutched each other and bravely held on,
each to the other, to save our own lives. The man at the wheel was
washed from the poop and joined us; the skipper took his place. No one
was lost; some miracle saved the boat and all of us; the wind howled and
rushed away as quickly as it arrived.
The skipper was a good sort; he had sailed in the black-birding days
with cargoes of natives to the Isles of Mystery. Now he gave us rum, and
we were the happiest crew on the high seas in our new lease of life, for
that is how we all felt. Only experience could paint to you the wildness
of a South Sea hurricane, and what we sailors felt as we slid along the
vessel’s deck holding on to each other’s legs and hair to prevent
ourselves being clutched and torn away into the infinite waters.
We put into Palmyra Isle and made things ship-shape, and then left for
Apia and Fiji, where I left the boat and took a steamer for New South
Wales.
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