A VOYAGE TO MARKET.
I remained on shore for a fortnight, during which the weather was
fine, though a slight shower generally fell in the morning.
We had still a large supply of stores, both on shore and on board; but
there was one article of food which we were consuming in much larger
quantities than had been anticipated--the necessary oatmeal--and it
was now found that but very little of it was left. It was, therefore,
decided that I should sail to Bahia--our nearest market-town--with the
yacht, and procure some more.
A voyage of 1,400 miles in order to purchase a little oatmeal sounds
like a rather large order; but, as a matter of fact, it was more
comfortable to be under weigh than to lie at anchor where we were,
exposed to the ocean swell. So we did not look upon the journey as a
troublesome duty.
My crew was to consist of Pollock and the three white sailors.
I put Ted Milner, the boatswain, on Pollock's watch, and took Arthur
Cotton on mine. John Wright did the cooking and kept no watch, though
he was always ready to lend a hand if necessary.
On Sunday, December 29th, the whale-boat went off to the yacht for
another load of stores, so that there might be an ample supply on the
island during the absence of the vessel; for it was not possible to
foresee how long we should be away.
On Monday, 30th, I returned on board, and, after the two parties had
bade each other good-bye and good luck, the whale-boat went off to the
shore with a last cargo of provisions. We now got the vessel ready for
sea. We unbent the storm-trysail and storm-foresail, and bent the
large foresail; being rather short-handed, we left our topmast housed
during this voyage.
We did not weigh the anchor until 5 p.m.; we set the whole mainsail,
the mizzen, foresail, and second jib. The wind, at first, was
exceedingly light, so that we drifted helplessly about for a time, and
we did not get clear of the island until after dark. I was thus unable
to sail round to the mouth of South-west Bay and satisfy myself that
the boat had been safely beached. However, seeing that so many
successful landings had been accomplished, I considered it unnecessary
to hang about the island until the following daylight, so we shaped
our course for Bahia. A moderate wind sprang up in the night and we
soon left the island far behind us.
This was a most successful voyage. The wind was from the north-east
all the time, right abeam, and therefore as favourable as it could be.
There was not quite enough of it, however, and our best day's work was
only 154 miles. On one day it was rather squally, and we had to trice
up the main tack now and then. The voyage only occupied five days, for
we sighted the white sands and the cocoanut groves of the Brazilian
coast at 5 p.m. on January 4, and at 7.30 we rounded St. Antonio
Point, and entered the bay of Bahia. Here we found that a strong tide
was running against us, and, as is usually the case in the gulf at
this hour, there was scarcely any wind; so we were compelled to let go
our anchor near the light-house. A Newfoundland barque that had
followed us in had to do likewise.
The next day, January 5, we rose early and saw before us again the
beautiful white city which we had left nearly two months before. We
got up the anchor as soon as the morning breeze had sprung up, and
sailed slowly to our anchorage under Fort la Mar, where we let go in
three fathoms of water.
We noticed that a strange flag was flying on all the forts and
government buildings, as well as on the guard-ship and a little
gunboat that was lying near us. It bore no resemblance to the flag of
Brazil, or to that of any other nationality, and puzzled us somewhat.
Though it was Sunday, our old friend, the harbour doctor, came off to
us in his launch. I was uncertain as to how he would receive us; for
the regulations of Brazilian ports are strict, and our entry here was
most informal. We had sailed out of Bahia, as the doctor himself must
have known, two months before, presumedly for Sydney, Australia; and
now, here we were again at Bahia, with no bill of health, and only
half of our crew on board.
He came alongside, and we greeted each other. 'What port do you come
from?' he then asked.
'We have been in no port since we left here,' I replied.
'How--in no port!' he exclaimed, raising his eyebrows in slight
astonishment. He was too thorough a Brazilian to express much surprise
at anything, or to rouse himself from the almost Oriental apathy of
manner that distinguishes this somewhat indolent race.
Then I explained to him that we had been passing our Christmas
holidays on the desert island of Trinidad, that I had left most of my
companions there while I had sailed to Bahia for more stores, and
that, having been in no inhabited port, I had, consequently, been
unable to provide myself with a bill of health.
'And what were you doing on Trinidad all this time?'
'Among other things, we were making collections of the fauna and
flora. There are some rare birds.'
'Have you any specimens of the birds on board?'
Luckily I had a few, and exhibited them. He was somewhat of a
naturalist himself, and recognised one species which he had seen on
Fernando Noronha.
He seemed satisfied, and gave us pratique without any demur.
Mr. Wilson had, of course, seen us, and had sent his boat to fetch me
on shore. Leaving the others on board, I got into the boat, and, as
the black boatman pulled me under the fort, it occurred to me to ask
him, in the best Portuguese I could muster, what was the signification
of the new flag that floated above the battlements. In my anxiety
concerning pratique I had forgotten to make any inquiries on the
subject from the doctor. The black looked up at the flag, smiled
faintly, and replied with an indifferent air--'Ah! la Republica.'
And so indeed it was--the Republic! When I reached the store, Mr.
Wilson told me all about the revolution, which had occurred quite
suddenly and quietly on the day after we had last sailed from Bahia. I
learned that the much esteemed Emperor had been deposed, and that a
Republican form of government had been proclaimed. And a very shabby
sort of a revolution it had been, too, for there had been no
slaughter, to give an air of dignity and respectability to it. The
people themselves appeared to be heartily ashamed of such a feeble
thing, and spoke little of it. The most insignificant Republic of
Central America could have got up a far more exciting and sanguinary
affair at a few hours' notice. The harbour doctor had not even thought
it worth while to mention the change of government when he gave me
pratique.
No national flag had yet been selected for this latest addition to the
list of American Republics, and the flag we saw was that of the State
of Bahia. There had been no disturbance in the city when the news of
the _pronunciamento_ was telegraphed from Rio. The negroes did
not raise a hand to support the Emperor, to whom they owed their
freedom. The only incident of note that occurred at Bahia was the
salute that was fired at Fort la Mar in honour of the new Government.
This salute did cause some little excitement; for, by some mistake,
round shot were fired instead of blank cartridges, and one shot went
through a longboat swinging on the davits of a Norwegian barque, and
did other damage.
The United States gunboat 'Richmond' was at anchor in the bay,
awaiting instructions from Washington, it was said, before officially
recognising the new sister Republic.
The next day was the feast of the Epiphany, a great holiday, and no
Brazilian could be got to work under any circumstances whatever.
Crackers, rockets, and bells were the order of the day. Even for the
two days succeeding the festival these pious people were disinclined
to work, and I heard the skippers of vessels raving in Wilson's store
because they could not get the water-boats alongside, or ship their
ballast, as the lightermen were still busy letting off crackers in the
streets. However, we managed to get all our stores off--oatmeal,
plenty of fresh vegetables, fruit, molasses, and a small barrel of
_cana_ or white rum.
On Thursday, January 9, I renewed my acquaintance with some old
friends. The telegraph steamer 'Norseman' came into the port. She was
still under the command of Captain Lacy, who had taken the 'Falcon' in
tow with her from Rio to Maldonado nearly ten years before.
We had intended to sail on this day, but the glass had been falling
and it was blowing hard from the south-east, so that it seemed
advisable to wait for some improvement in the weather. The next day,
January 10, the glass began to rise and the sky looked less
threatening, the scud no longer rushing across the heavens at a wild
pace; so we got under weigh after breakfast, and once more set sail
for the desert island.
For a vessel sailing from Trinidad to Bahia the wind is always fair,
being from north-east to south-east; but for one sailing the reverse
way the wind is, as often as not, right ahead. This bad luck we now
experienced. Trinidad lay to the south-east of us, and south-east was
also the direction of the wind. When we were outside the bay we put
the vessel on the port tack and at five in the evening we were off the
Moro San Paulo light-house. Then we went about and steered away from
the land.
This was, I think, our most disagreeable voyage. It blew hard all the
time, and there were violent squalls of wind and rain that frequently
compelled us to scandalise our mainsail and lower the foresail. The
sea ran high, and was very confused, so that, sailing full and by, the
yacht made little progress, labouring a good deal, and constantly
driving her bowsprit into the short, steep waves. On the third day out
we took two reefs down in the mainsail and two in the foresail. The
wind was constantly shifting between east and south, so that we often
went about so as to sail on the tack which enabled the vessel to point
nearest to her destination.
When we had been six days out we were only half way to Trinidad,
having accomplished the distance of 350 miles from Bahia.
On this day I had some trouble with Arthur. He had, I think, brought a
bottle of rum on board surreptitiously at Bahia, or, possibly, he had
helped himself from the barrel, which was always kept, for security,
in my cabin. As I used to sleep on deck during Pollock's watch, he
could then find his opportunity, as no one was below to catch him. At
midnight, when I relieved the other watch, he refused to obey an
order. He had done this on two previous occasions, also when under the
influence of smuggled spirits, and had quickly been brought to his
senses and to his work by having his head punched. It was his wont to
become repentant and make amends for his bad conduct by extra good
behaviour; and I must allow that he did his work willingly enough, as
a rule, but drink converted him into a foolish sea-lawyer.
The offence was flagrant on this occasion, and as a head-punching only
resulted in making him sulky, I determined to discharge him. Seeing
that months might elapse before we left Trinidad for the West Indies,
and not wishing to have him on my hands all that time, I made up my
mind to run back to Bahia with him at once; so the mainsheet was
promptly slacked off, and we bore away, to the young man's great
surprise. I would not let him go below, in case he should get at the
rum again; so ordered him to stay on the deck forward. Before the end
of my watch he disobeyed this order and sneaked below in the dark.
When I discovered this I went down and ordered him to come on deck at
once. He obeyed, promptly this time, as he was, no doubt, reaching the
sober and repentant stage; but I would not trust him, and tied him up
by his foot to the bulwarks forward, and kept him a prisoner until we
came into port.
He was the only paid hand we had who was subject to these fits of
insubordination. The doctor and myself never had any difficulties with
the others; they did their work cheerfully.
Now that we were running before the wind and sea we made good
progress, and we sighted the Moro San Paulo light at 2 a.m. on Sunday,
January 19. The distance, therefore, that we had made after six days
of tacking was now accomplished before the wind in 50 hours.
We were becalmed off the entrance of the bay for several hours. It was
an excessively hot day, and the morning breeze did not spring up till
later than usual, so that we did not let go our anchor under Fort la
Mar until midday. And now, lo! the flags of the State of Bahia no
longer decorated the city and forts, but a flag something like the old
Brazilian flag, but yet not the same, floated everywhere. Had there,
then, been yet another revolution while we were away, and was some new
form of government--communistical or oligarchical or what not--being
experimented upon? We learnt, on landing, that this was the National
flag of the Brazilian Republic, but only a tentative one, which was
being flown so that the citizens could see how it looked. I believe
several other patterns were tried, and thus exhibited in the cities
for public approval, before one was definitely selected.
The harbour doctor came off to us, was amused at our story, and again
gave us pratique. Wilson had, of course, been much puzzled at the
re-appearance of the 'Alerte,' and was anxious to hear what had
happened.
I took Arthur before the Consul on Monday morning, and formally
discharged him.
New brooms sweep clean, they say, and the new Republican Municipality
had decided to clean dirty Bahia as economically as possible, and had
hit upon the following ingenious plan. The police were instructed to
consider any one, whatever his rank, who was found walking in the
streets after bed-time, as a dangerous conspirator, and to promptly
arrest him. All men locked up on any night for this crime were sent
out the next morning in a gang to sweep the streets. It was
interesting, I was told, to observe some gay young Brazilian masher,
in silk hat, lofty collar, and pointed patent boots, cleaning a gutter
out, with an armed policeman standing over him to see that he did not
shirk his work. I was instructed by the Consul to warn any of my men
who should come on shore as to the danger of strolling about the city
at night.
I did not wish to remain at Bahia one moment longer than was
necessary; but I thought it would be well, as we were here, to fill up
our water-tanks. But it happened to be another fiesta this day--bells
and crackers again!--and the water-boat could not come off. So we had
to wait till the following day, January 21, when the water was put on
board of us, and in the afternoon we got under weigh.