The next day being Sunday, which is the liberty-day among
merchantmen, when it is usual to let a part of the crew go ashore,
the sailors had depended upon a holiday, and were already
disputing who should ask to go, when, upon being called in the
morning, we were turned-to upon the rigging, and found that the
top-mast, which had been sprung, was to come down, and a new one
to go up, with top-gallant and royal masts, and the rigging to be
set. This was too bad. If there is anything that irritates
sailors, and makes them feel hardly used, it is being deprived of
their Sunday. Not that they would always, or indeed generally,
spend it improvingly, but it is their only day of rest. Then, too,
they are so often necessarily deprived of it by storms, and
unavoidable duties of all kinds, that to take it from them when
lying quietly and safely in port, without any urgent reason, bears
the more hardly. The only reason in this case was, that the
captain had determined to have the custom-house officers on board
on Monday, and wished to have his brig in order. Jack is a slave
aboard ship; but still he has many opportunities of thwarting and
balking his master. When there is danger or necessity, or when he
is well used, no one can work faster than he; but the instant he
feels that he is kept at work for nothing, or, as the nautical
phrase is, ``humbugged,'' no sloth could make less headway. He
must not refuse his duty, or be in any way disobedient, but all
the work that an officer gets out of him, he may be welcome to.
Every man who has been three months at sea knows how to ``work Tom
Cox's traverse''-- ``three turns round the long-boat, and a pull
at the scuttled butt.'' This morning everything went in this way.
``Sogering'' was the order of the day. Send a man below to get a
block, and he would capsize everything before finding it, then not
bring it up till an officer had called him twice, and take as much
time to put things in order again. Marline-spikes were not to be
found; knives wanted a prodigious deal of sharpening, and,
generally, three or four were waiting round the grindstone at a
time. When a man got to the mast-head, he would come slowly down
again for something he had left; and after the tackles were got
up, six men would pull less than three who pulled ``with a will.''
When the mate was out of sight, nothing was done. It was all
up-hill work; and at eight o'clock, when we went to breakfast,
things were nearly where they were when we began.
During our short meal the matter was discussed. One proposed
refusing to work; but that was mutiny, and of course was rejected
at once. I remember, too, that one of the men quoted ``Father
Taylor'' (as they call the seamen's preacher at Boston), who told
them that, if they were ordered to work on Sunday, they must not
refuse their duty, and the blame would not come upon them. After
breakfast, it leaked out, through the officers, that, if we would
get through work soon, we might have a boat in the afternoon and
go a-fishing. This bait was well thrown, and took with several who
were fond of fishing; and all began to find that as we had one
thing to do, and were not to be kept at work for the day, the
sooner we did it the better. Accordingly, things took a new
aspect; and before two o'clock, this work, which was in a fair way
to last two days, was done; and five of us went a-fishing in the
jolly-boat, in the direction of Point Pinos; but leave to go
ashore was refused. Here we saw the Loriotte, which sailed with us
from Santa Barbara, coming slowly in with a light sea-breeze,
which sets in towards afternoon, having been becalmed off the
point all the first part of the day. We took several fish of
various kinds, among which cod and perch abounded, and Foster (the
ci-devant second mate), who was of our number, brought up with his
hook a large and beautiful pearl-oyster shell. We afterwards
learned that this place was celebrated for shells, and that a
small schooner had made a good voyage by carrying a cargo of them
to the United States.
We returned by sundown, and found the Loriotte at anchor within a
cable's length of the Pilgrim. The next day we were ``turned-to''
early, and began taking off the hatches, overhauling the cargo,
and getting everything ready for inspection. At eight, the
officers of the customs, five in number, came on board, and began
examining the cargo, manifest, &c. The Mexican revenue laws are
very strict, and require the whole cargo to be landed, examined,
and taken on board again; but our agent had succeeded in
compounding for the last two vessels, and saving the trouble of
taking the cargo ashore. The officers were dressed in the costume
which we found prevailed through the country,-- broad-brimmed hat,
usually of a black or dark brown color, with a gilt or figured
band round the crown, and lined under the rim with silk; a short
jacket of silk, or figured calico (the European skirted body-coat
is never worn); the shirt open in the neck; rich waistcoat, if
any; pantaloons open at the sides below the knee, laced with gilt,
usually of velveteen or broadcloth; or else short breeches and
white stockings. They wear the deer-skin shoe, which is of a dark
brown color, and (being made by Indians) usually a good deal
ornamented. They have no suspenders, but always wear a sash round
the waist, which is generally red, and varying in quality with the
means of the wearer. Add to this the never-failing poncho, or the
serapa, and you have the dress of the Californian. This last
garment is always a mark of the rank and wealth of the owner. The
gente de razon, or better sort of people, wear cloaks of black or
dark blue broadcloth, with as much velvet and trimmings as may be;
and from this they go down to the blanket of the Indian, the
middle classes wearing a poncho, something like a large square
cloth, with a hole in the middle for the head to go through. This
is often as coarse as a blanket, but being beautifully woven with
various colors, is quite showy at a distance. Among the Mexicans
there is no working class (the Indians being practically serfs,
and doing all the hard work); and every rich man looks like a
grandee, and every poor scamp like a broken-down gentleman. I have
often seen a man with a fine figure and courteous manners, dressed
in broadcloth and velvet, with a noble horse completely covered
with trappings, without a real in his pockets, and absolutely
suffering for something to eat.