HAWAII BY STEERAGE
PASSING the examination was only part of the procedure through which
we had to go to obtain positions as sub-inspectors of dredging on the
construction of the Pearl Harbour Naval Base. The next step was to get
an appointment from Washington which was not to be had until there was
a vacancy at the harbour. The naval authorities in Honolulu could give
us no assurance when an opening would occur, so we decided to visit
some of the other islands while awaiting developments. We wished to
see Kilauea, the only active volcano in the Hawaiian archipelago, on
the island of Hawaii, about one hundred and twenty-five miles south of
Honolulu. We also wished to see Haleakala, the largest extinct crater
in the world on the island of Maui.
We sailed on the S.S. _Wilhelmina_ for Hawaii, accompanied by a fellow
school teacher by the name of Hammond. Richardson went as a member
of the crew while Hammond and I were steerage passengers at three
dollars a head--as we supposed. No one came to collect our fares, so
I reluctantly offered the money to the purser who refused it--for
he knew we were poor men. We returned under similar good fortune,
making a total of two hundred and fifty miles of travel, including
meals, for nothing. Richardson's duties consisted of bucking around
one-hundred-and-fifty-pound sugar sacks, and he received little
sympathy from his two travelling companions who sat leisurely by and
made fun of him. He proved to be a very poor workman, for after the
ship was well under way he shirked his duties to such an extent that he
enjoyed all the comforts and leisure of steerage travel.
We were the most aristocratic steerage passengers that this ship or
any other ever had. Instead of conducting ourselves like cattle, as
fourth-class passengers sometimes do, we mingled with the pretty
girls of the first-class, took deck chairs which usually retail at a
dollar a trip, explored the boat beyond the steerage line and when
the steward emerged from the lower deck and in the presence of all
the passengers shouted, "Grub is ready, get your gang together," the
three of us dropped down the hole and lined up alongside of the trough
and proceeded to place away the food which was served in wholesale
quantities on tinware. Our iron-piped bunks were free from bed-bugs
and other inhabitants, but the hairy blankets were tormentors all
night long. It was a rough trip and it was fortunate that none of us
was seasick. It would have been extremely awkward, for no provision
was made for receptacles of any kind which are necessary under such
circumstances. Our bunks were ten feet from the port holes, which
were twelve feet from the deck, and in order to do the usual thing
through one of these apertures it would have been necessary to procure
a ladder, and even then we should have run the risk of getting our
heads caught in the port holes and of being unable to draw them out.
One's imagination can picture the steerage steward being greeted in
the morning by three bums hanging lifelessly by their heads from three
successive port holes, with their legs dangling in the air.
Richardson was determined to break in on two attractive girls on the
first-class promenade deck. One of them was seated in front of her
stateroom looking like an unlaundered towel and doing her best to hold
down a recently devoured meal. Richardson prinked before the steerage
mirror and walked briskly along the deck to the point where the young
lady was sitting. He stopped short and bluntly asked,
"Are you seasick?"
"Don't I look it?" she replied with a smile.
This was the entering wedge and soon Richardson introduced his fellow
travellers. The steerage quarters were immediately deserted and we
spent the rest of the trip on the promenade deck with the women. One
of them proved to be the daughter of an high official of the Oceanic
Steamship Company, which at that time was contemplating placing on a
line of steamers from San Francisco to Australia. We met her father
who, on hearing of the plans of our trip, which we enthusiastically
related, said that in the event the new line was put on he would see
that we got to Australia for nothing. Unfortunately for us, our time to
depart came before this line was inaugurated.
We landed at Hilo on the island of Hawaii early in the morning,
and bought a third-class round-trip ticket for $1.60 to Glenwood,
twenty-two miles distant. From Glenwood we walked the remaining nine
miles to the Volcano House in two hours and fifteen minutes, rising two
thousand feet and beating the stage by twenty minutes. The road was a
good thoroughfare through tropical forests of tree ferns, twenty feet
in height; of _ohia lehua_, a tree belonging to the same family as the
eucalyptus; _koa_ or Hawaiian mahogany; wild bananas; papaia, water
lemons, palms and wild roses. On arriving at the Volcano House we had
something to eat and then set out across the lava beds for three miles
to Halemaumau--the active pit of the volcano--where we spent the night
in a shack perched on its edge.
Kilauea is one of the "seven wonders" of America. It is situated on the
slopes of Mauna Loa, a barren mountain rising gradually from the sea to
a height of thirteen thousand five hundred feet. The Volcano House, or
tourist hotel on the hillside, commands an excellent view of the crater
with its desert of lava, of the swirling smoke of the pit and of Mauna
Loa, rising majestically in the distance to its dome-like summit.
Vesuvius is a large broken cone on the top of a mountain. Kilauea is an
enormous cavity about seven miles in circumference and several hundred
feet deep on the side of a mountain. The crater is a large lava bed
cooled in peculiar and fantastic formations and it is about four miles
in diameter. Across this dreary desert is a winding trail which leads
from the Volcano House to the pit. Along this path there are immense
fissures in the lava from which constantly rise volumes of sulphur
smoke oozing out from the very bowels of the earth. As one approaches
the pit the enormous column of smoke, which rises from it, is always
present as a guide to his destination and at night it is a tower of
light which spreads its rays for miles.
Halemaumau, the pit where the molten lava is raging, is about four
hundred feet in diameter and at the time of our visit the level of the
liquid fire was about six hundred feet below the floor of the crater.
There is a pit within a pit, the top of the inner forming a shelf
within the outer; and it was on this ledge that Mark Twain had the
thrilling experience of rescuing a companion who had fallen through
the lava. His account of this adventure is given in "Roughing It," and
he relates in detail the difficulty with which he emerged from his
perilous situation after wandering blindly about amidst the fumes of
sulphur in search of a path to safety. To-day none but the fool-hardy
venture below, as it is very dangerous. Richardson, Hammond and I
explored the whole region, and we sat for hours on the edge of the
precipice and watched this lake of molten lava--splashing, surging,
tossing, gurgling, flowing--ever restless and ever beautiful.
This mass of writhing fluid looks like hell as pictured by the old-time
fire and brimstone preachers. It appears to be flowing in a continuous
current, coming from one side and disappearing at another. As floating
pieces of lava cool and crack, a series of red hot fountains bursts
through them, rising to a height of twenty or thirty feet. In the midst
of this restless mass of Satanic fluid is a large stationary rock which
reposes in its infernal position as peacefully as a cow in a pasture.
Out of this awful chasm there arise clouds of sulphur smoke which
conceal the bed to a great extent, but as there is always a strong
constantly changing wind we were able to get good views of the whole
scene.
It is extremely fascinating to sit on the edge of this pit and watch
the incessant dashing and splashing of the glowing lava. It impressed
even such homeless tramps as ourselves. One's thoughts drift back
to the time, a century ago, when Mrs. Pele--the Hawaiian Goddess of
volcanoes--was misbehaving to her full capacity, when the present
outer crater with its cold and peaceful lava beds was one living mass
of furious fire, when its rays were so brilliant at night that it
illuminated the sky and sea for a radius of four hundred miles and
the lava flowed at will down the mountain-side to the sea and extended
the coast of this volcanic island.
[Illustration: THE STEERAGE TRIO]
An interesting story is told by the natives. Several years ago when
Kilauea was unusually active there was great fear that the lava would
flow down the mountain-side and bury the town of Hilo. The Hawaiians
in their frenzied fright appealed to Princess Ruth for help. She,
accompanied by the ladies and gentlemen of the court, proceeded to the
volcano and with great ceremony, this portly and corpulent woman (it is
said that she weighed three hundred pounds) stood on the edge of the
pit and threw a live and disgusted pig into the midst of the burning
cauldron, whereupon the boiling lava immediately subsided and the
village of Hilo was saved.
The regular tourist rate from Honolulu to Kilauea is $59.50, which
includes round-trip by boat, railroad fare from Hilo to Glenwood, stage
charges to the Volcano House and board and room while there. Admitting
that we missed a considerable degree of comfort, nevertheless, we saw
all that the average tourist sees and at a cash outlay of only $2.10
each.
Huddled in the steerage of the _Mauna Kea_ (one of the small steamers
of the Inter-Island Steam Navigation Company) with a score of Chinese,
Japanese and Hawaiians, we left Honolulu for McGregor's Landing on the
island of Maui to see the extinct volcano Haleakala. The trip was a
night's journey and, as no sleeping accommodations are provided in the
third-class of Hawaiian steamers, we bunked on the soft side of a coil
of rope.
The ship arrived at McGregor's Landing about five o'clock in the
morning and we went ashore feeling anything but rested after a most
wearisome night. We made a bargain with a Chinese hack driver to
carry us to Kahului, eight miles across the island. After breakfast
we boarded a little narrow gauge train for Paia, a sugar plantation
village a short distance up the coast on the slopes of Haleakala. We
purchased a supply of provisions at the plantation store and were soon
started on the twenty-mile climb to the top of the mountain. Haleakala
is just over ten thousand feet in elevation and the trail to the summit
ascends on an average of five hundred feet to the mile. A trip up
Haleakala proved to be far from a pleasure jaunt.
The first part of our walk from Paia past the huge sugar factory lay
through the great cane fields of the Maui Agricultural Company, the
second largest plantation in the Hawaiian Islands. The cane was being
harvested and the Japanese cutters were as busy as bees all about us.
About ten o'clock we reached the four-thousand-foot level. The cane
fields began to disappear and our path wound its way among banana farms
and taro patches. We helped ourselves to mangoes, papaias and guavas
along the way. We ate our lunch at a Chinese store. The real climb
began after midday. We left fertile fields and were soon following the
trail across the middle slopes of the mountain. There were few trees
and the sun shone down from a cloudless sky. Our gait was easily under
the speed limit, only about two miles an hour. It was a hard stony road
over which we had to travel.
As we ascended the view began to widen out on every side. We could look
back over the cane fields to the Pacific and see the breakers rolling
ashore. Above us towered the mountain, the summit now and again lost in
a fleecy cloud. We almost forgot the hardships of the climb with such a
picture before us.
Although the ascent from Paia to the top can be made in a single day,
we decided to break the journey about half way, spend the night and
start out refreshed for the last stretch. We stopped at Idlewilde and
put up in the summer home of a Kahului friend. We made an early start.
The trail was plainly marked with guide posts, each tenth of a mile.
Idlewilde is eight miles by trail from the summit and the ascent from
this point is over five thousand feet--seven hundred to the mile. The
first three or four miles were comparatively easy, for we were fresh
and the footing was good. About the fifth mile the real work began. The
trail became steeper and steeper until it seemed straight up. We began
to strike loose, volcanic dirt and sand. We passed the timber line
and the stubby bushes with which the side of the mountain is covered
afforded no protection from the sun. It was real mountain climbing--or
just plain unadulterated work. The high altitude made frequent stops
necessary for breathing spells. Our progress was slow. The last three
miles took over three hours.
The view was magnificent. Forty miles of the Maui coast were spread out
at our feet. To the south the island of Molokai loomed out of the sea.
Two or three steamers were making their way through the Maui-Molokai
channel towards Honolulu. The air was clear, almost Rocky Mountain
clearness--an unusual condition for Hawaii.
A mile from the top we collected a large bunch of fire wood for use
during the night. The wood probably weighed one hundred pounds--fifty
pounds each. In a half an hour it had increased to four hundred pounds.
We began to lighten our packs. We reached the summit with five pounds
each. The last half mile took one hour. The air was rarefied and we had
to stop every few hundred feet for breath. The trail, beside being much
steeper than heretofore--if such a thing were possible--was covered
with sand, causing us to slip back a foot for nearly every step we took.
Suddenly the view of the great crater burst upon us. It is a sight
I shall never forget. We had reached the top of the trail and were
walking along a low wall of rock towards the mountain house. We came
to a break in the rock and in an instant Haleakala appeared before us.
Imagine a hole in the top of a mountain. Let this hole be twenty-seven
miles around and from two to three thousand feet deep, the sides
abruptly sloping. Scattered over the level floor of this hole, picture
twenty extinct volcanic cones or craters, the smallest forty feet in
height, the largest about a thousand. This, in brief, is Haleakala. The
sight is a grand one to-day, with all the craters extinct. What must it
have been a thousand years ago when, according to geologists, Haleakala
was active and the great crater was one mass of flame and liquid rock?
We spent the night in the mountain rest house. This small stone
cabin is provided for visitors to the summit. We curled up in our
blankets--but not to sleep. The fireplace balked and the smoke went
everywhere but up the chimney. We stood it as long as we could and
then concluded that we would rather freeze than be smoked to death. We
threw the fire outdoors and spent the rest of the night in a cold but
smokeless cabin. A bucket of water in the room was frozen over with ice
a half inch thick. We didn't sleep a wink.
In the morning we saw the greatest of all sunrises--a Haleakala
Sunrise. The great crater had filled with clouds during the night. In
the grey morning light one could imagine that he was looking over an
immense body of water. Clouds had settled around the mountain so that
the view of the ocean was shut off. We seemed to be standing on an
island with clouds all about us. The first rays of the sun were caught
up by the mass of mist in the crater. In an instant the great pit was
turned into a sea of fire. Back and forth flashed the light as it was
reflected through the abyss of fog. In three minutes it was all over.
As the sun rose the clouds began to take flight, like giant birds, and
in a few minutes the crater was empty.
We rolled rocks over the edge and watched them go bounding down the two
thousand foot slope to the floor of the crater. When a boulder in its
flight struck another, imbedded in the side of the mountain, pieces
dashed up like a fountain and the noise was like the muffled discharge
of a cannon.
It only took us a little over four hours to make the twenty miles back
to Paia. We scarcely felt tired that evening, but the following morning
I thought I was a hundred years old. The constant pounding of our heels
on the hard trail affected the muscles in the back of our legs and
for two or three days we could hardly walk. If human beings ever have
springhalt, we surely had it.
We returned to Honolulu by the _Mauna Kea_. All went well in the
steerage and we arrived in the morning. Instead of going to the wharf,
the ship anchored at the quarantine station. We thought this was
something unusual and one of us asked an officer the cause. Bubonic
plague, one of the most feared of all diseases, had appeared on
Maui--only two cases--and all the steerage passengers were to be landed
at quarantine and inspected by the port doctor before being allowed to
go ashore.
We were steerage by environment but not by heredity. Within two minutes
we had business in the engine room. We tarried there a brief moment and
went on deck--the first-class deck. Every one was in a rush and our
appearance was not even noticed. We knew several of the passengers and
at once entered into conversation with them.
Soon the ship's boats were lowered and the first-class passengers--and
two steerage--were landed at the wharf. In ten minutes we were on
shore, two travel-stained, tired and lame, but cheerful looking tramps.
Haleakala was a wonder. It was worth travelling steerage to see--even
worth taking a chance on the plague.