_AN UNEASY DAY_
Not always, however, did the days pass as uneventfully as the one
just described. Often we had to struggle against high gales and
thunder-gusts. In fact, they had to be reckoned with both morning and
evening of every day. As welcome as the thunder-storms were for the
supply of fresh water they brought us, we yet looked forward to them
with dread also, because of the strain on ship and rigging. In the
tropics the coming of a thunder-storm can be seen from afar, and the
time of its arrival quite accurately timed.
The approach of one of these storms was usually heralded by a few
dark clouds near the horizon, the falling rain showing as a long,
broad streak reaching from sky to ocean. As the clouds rose toward
the zenith, the columns of rain came visibly nearer. When the storm
was within a thousand meters of us, the sails were furled as far as
necessary, and we rode out the gale. We "laid to" then, with close
reefed sails, the ship's head close to the wind, until the gale, which
was always accompanied by a downpour of rain so heavy that we could see
nothing except what was immediately in front of us, was over.
One day we had an especially heavy thunder-storm. The clouds hung so
low that it seemed as though we could grasp them with our hands. The
wind set in more quickly than we had expected, and just as we had
begun to shorten our light sails, the tempest was upon us. It seized
the mizzen-topsail, and whipped it furiously through the air. The
men on deck could not hold it against the strain, it flew over the
mizzen-gaff, caught fast on it, and hung there. To secure it at the
time was impossible, because of the heavy rolling of the ship. For a
while, the flapping of the sail endangered the whole mizzen-topmast,
but more especially the slender upper part of the mast, which is
always only lightly stayed. Its violent motion filled us with anxiety.
Moreover, we were now in the worst of the gale, and had all we could
do to attend to the other sails. Nevertheless, we finally succeeded in
furling all the sails with the exception of a few bits of canvas that
had to be left out to give the ship steerage way.
The clouds were so heavy that it was almost as dark as night.
Unceasingly the lightning flashed about us, followed instantly by
a heavy clap of thunder. So near and so vivid were the flashes of
lightning, that they blinded us for the moment, and for seconds at a
time we could see nothing at all. It was a genuine little cyclone that
was sweeping over us.
Then the violent wind suddenly ceased as the center of the storm
reached us, and the air about us grew absolutely still. The high seas
and swells continued, however. The ship, suddenly robbed of its support
by the almost instant falling away of the wind, rolled so heavily from
side to side, that we feared the masts would go overboard without our
being able to do anything to prevent it. The atmosphere was filled with
electricity; on each of our mast-heads burned St. Elmo fires, a foot
high.
Slowly the thunder-storm passed over. After a few more brief but
violent gusts of the recurring gale, the wind died down and blew more
steadily and quietly. Soon nothing remained but a few distant flashes
of lightning to remind us of the anxious hours we had but just passed.
One after the other the sails were set, and we proceeded on our way.
But soon afterward, the wind died away entirely.
The times when we were becalmed were perhaps even more unpleasant than
when the wind paid us an over-amount of attention, for, with the high
and never-ceasing ocean swells, our ship rolled very heavily whenever
there was no breeze to drive her. Then the sails, no longer filled
by the wind, flapped from side to side, and when the heavy booms went
over, the whole ship shivered, and the masts trembled. At such times
we often thought it best to furl all sails, and so avoid any possible
danger to ship and rigging.
On account of the violent and jerking motion of the ship on such days,
life aboard her was extremely unpleasant and very fatiguing. To remain
aboard the ship at all, we had to hold on to some support continuously
with both hands, or else wedge ourselves firmly into a secure corner.
On this particular day, we were again obliged to furl all sails. While
we were thus in the worst of the rolling, and were swearing vigorously
at the ship's eccentricities, suddenly a cloud of smoke was reported
in sight on the port bow forward. As we were wholly outside of any
course ordinarily followed by steamers, we concluded that the vessel
sighted must, like ourselves, have reason to avoid the usual routes of
steamship travel. At first we thought it might, perhaps, be one of our
coaling ships, either the _Exford_ or the _Buresk_, which, just before
the fight off Keeling, had been dismissed by the _Emden_ to await her
at certain designated points. Having neither heard nor seen anything
of the _Emden_, they might now be running into Padang, hoping there to
learn what had happened. On the other hand, it might quite as well be a
hostile cruiser that had run into Keeling after the fight, and, having
heard of our departure, was now looking for us.
There were, in fact, but three courses for us to choose from while
making our escape from Keeling,--to run to Padang, to Batavia, or to
Africa. Of these the most probable ones were to Batavia, or to Padang.
For a fast cruiser it would be an easy matter to search for us on both
of these routes, and so make sure of finding us. Knowing that we were
wholly dependent upon the wind for our progress, our pursuers could
easily picture to themselves the course we had taken, and where they
would most likely find us.
Naturally, we made every effort to discover the character of the
unknown vessel. But even from the mast-heads we could see no more than
the smoke she was leaving behind her. To elude her by changing our
course was quite out of the question with the _Ayesha_, becalmed as we
were, and drifting idly. But, after giving us a few anxious hours, the
smoke on the horizon vanished.
Meanwhile, the regular evening breeze had set in, and with it came the
usual torrents of rain. We were now in the region where the South-east
and North-west Monsoons meet and struggle for the mastery. The wind
changed every few moments. First, a gust would strike the ship from
forward, and the next minute it would be blowing a gale from aft, a
condition of affairs that afforded opportunity for some expert and
ingenious sailing manoeuvres. After we had practised close hauling
the sails a number of times, we were suddenly confronted with a task
that well nigh proved too much for us. A violent gust of wind from
the north-west was sweeping down upon the ship from forward at the
same time that one from the south was approaching from aft. We were
therefore obliged to tack by close hauling the fore-sail, while, at
the same time, the mainsail had to be set for wind from astern. The
two shower baths that the two gusts brought us could not have been
better managed in an up-to-date sanitarium, where alternating hot and
cold showers are a feature of the baths. The gust from the north-west
brought a torrent of rain so icy cold that most of us got below decks
as fast as we could, whereas the one from the south, which overtook
us a few minutes later, showered us with water that was more than
lukewarm.