"Well, good-bye, Holt. Wish you every luck if I don't see you again,
but I expect I shall if you stop on a day or two at the hotel yonder.
I'll be getting a run on shore--when I can."
Thus the captain, and then came Chadwick, and the chief engineer--all
wishing me a most hearty good-bye. Even toward the obnoxious King I
felt quite affectionately disposed. The crew too were singing out,
"Good luck to you, sir."
I could hardly say anything in return, for I felt parting with these
excellent fellows and good comrades, whose involuntary guest I had been
during four weeks. Then I slid down the rope ladder on to the great
surf boat which had been signalled alongside to take me off.
There were other vessels in the roadstead, sailing craft and a
white-hulled, red-funnelled coasting steamer of the Castle line. It was
a dull, sunless afternoon, which enhanced my depressed and forlorn
feeling considerably. The surf boat was one of several that had been
discharging cargo from the other shipping, which was stowed away in her
hold, leaving room for me in the very small space open at either end.
She was worked by a hawser and half a dozen black fellows, and a very
rough specimen of a white man, with a great tangled beard, and a stock
of profanity both original and extensive.
"Now, mister," sang out this worthy, as I was waving last farewells to
those on board, "stow that--and yer bloomin' carcase too, unless yer
want yer ruddy nut cracked with the blanked rope. Get down into the
bottom of the boat."
The warning, though rough, was all needed, for hardly had I obeyed it,
when bang--whigge! the great hawser flew taut like some huge bowstring,
just where my head had been a moment before. For a little while I
judged it expedient literally to lie low, but when I eventually looked
up, it was to behold an immense green wall of water towering aft. It
curled and hissed--then broke upon us with a thunderous crash, and for
half a minute I didn't know whether we were in the boat or in the sea;
and had hardly time to take breath when another followed.
"Hang on, mister, hang on," bellowed the captain, after the first storm
of profanity which burst from him had spent itself. "Hang on for all
you're worth. There's more coming."
I took his advice. There was a quick gliding movement, an upheave and a
bump--and then--crash came one of the mighty rollers as before. Another
and another followed, and at length, half drowned, I realised we were in
smooth water again, and ventured cautiously to look up.
We were in the mouth of a fine river, banked by high bluffs covered with
thick virgin forest. On the left bank lay a township of sorts, and the
lighthouse I had seen. The darkies were warping along merrily now,
their skins glistening with their recent wetting. Behind, lay such a
very hell of raging surf as to set me wondering whether we could really
have come through it and lived.
"Blanked heavy bar on to-day, mister," said the skipper of the lighter,
cramming a pipe from a rubber pouch. "My word, but you've got a
ducking. Five bob please, for landing you."