feelings of cheer and strengthened hopes, for although the fore part
of the day was full of gloomy forebodings it has ended eventfully and
happily. Our task to-day, as I have said, was to set up the mainmast,
and the work was begun immediately after our breakfast. All hands were
strenuously employed until noon. First, the mast was rolled into
position so that the foot would be exactly over the centre of the
hole dug yesterday. Then a small derrick was made to support the mast
nearly in balance. With tackles and ropes then adjusted, as all good
sailors know how to do, the heel was lowered slowly and the top
elevated by the guys, until the mast stood on its foot and was secured
upright. It was dinner-time when we considered it safe to leave, and
we were glad when it was finally in place, for the work took about all
the strength we had.
What was our dismay while we were at dinner to hear the snap of rope
and the crash of the falling mast. Everybody rushed to the spot, and
it was discovered that one of the guys had parted and that the sand
had not been firm enough to hold the mast erect. Luckily the mast was
not injured, and the captain said calmly, as though it was an everyday
occurrence, "Well, men, we must do it again."
While we were standing about the hole and the captain was directing
preparations for another effort, one of the men, noticing the water at
the bottom, scooped some of it up in a shovel and raised it to his
lips. I shall never forget his expression as he swallowed it. His eyes
snapped, his face went white, and broadened almost into a grin, and he
seemed for an instant to hold his breath. Then his color came back,
and with a wild shout of gladness he exclaimed so that all could hear,
"Boys--fresh water, by G----." And so it proved,--soft and
pure,--although within twenty feet of the salt water at the beach.
Examination showed that there was quite a "pocket" of this filtered
rainwater, and that the point where we had excavated was evidently
where the island had originally commenced to form on solid ground. We
noticed, too, during the afternoon that the water in it rises and
falls with the tide of the ocean in the lagoon without mixing. This
was explained by one of the officers, who had before seen such
conditions, as due to the difference in density of the two waters, and
the fact that the small rise and fall of the tide, which is only about
twelve inches here, does not create an inrush and outgo sufficiently
strong to force a mixture. However, we are greatly rejoiced over the
"blessing in disguise" our falling mast has proved to be, and although
the supply is probably moderate and dependent on the rains, we shall
be able to dispense with the boiler, which has begun to give trouble
from rust and leakage.
_Wednesday._ Blye and I went inland among the bushes and killed twelve
boobies for supper to-morrow. Breakfast, pork scouse and cup of water.
Provisions got wet from leak in storehouse last night; took tea,
coffee, and wet bread out to dry. Several showers during the day. Mr.
Talbot went over to the sand spit and brought back driftwood and four
large turtles. Supper, salt beef and two dough-balls from mouldy
flour.
_Thursday, 10th._ Breakfast, salt beef and flour-balls. Getting up
ship's mainmast for flagstaff and lookout. One boat off to the wreck.
Several rain squalls during day, and unable to dry out stores. Supper
on boobies and flour-balls.
_Friday, 11th._ Breakfast, turtle steak and a tablespoonful of mashed
potatoes. The mast was again raised to-day and care taken to prevent a
repetition of Tuesday's accident. Stronger guys were led to heavy,
deep-driven stakes. A topmast was added and a rope ladder to the
crosstrees. Work on the gig progressing fast--nearly decked over.
Supper, turtle, eight goonies, potatoes, and cup of tea.
_Saturday, 12th._ Breakfast on fish, turtle soup, and mashed potatoes.
Supper, seal meat and tablespoonful of mashed beans. The fish from
the reef are voted no good. They are brilliantly colored but strong in
taste, and are said by the captain to be similar to the "parrot fish"
that is found among our West India coral reefs. Solomon Graves says
that the parrot fish is poisonous, so it is decided to leave them out
of our bill of fare. Should it become necessary to augment our ration
it will, no doubt, be done by adding the _rats_, and for myself I
believe they will improve it.
[Illustration: THE GIG--BEFORE LAUNCHING--WITH SAILS MADE ON THE
ISLAND]
_Sunday, November 13._ Ship breaking up rapidly and boats out to pick
up driftwood. Had prayers (read by Captain S.) at 3 P.M., and he
addressed us with remarks as to necessity in our situation of working
on Sabbath. Thousands of rats about. Put extra night watch on
storehouse, for fear of further depredations.
_Monday, 14th._ Same diet as yesterday. Aired all clothing. Work on
gig pushing, and we expect to get her off this week. Every one writing
letters to send in her.
_Tuesday, 15th._ Diet, goonies and turtle, with last of potatoes. The
gig was launched and provisions sent down from storehouse. Had a long
talk with Talbot. He realizes danger of trip, but is brave and
confident; gave him my revolver.
_Wednesday, 16th._ Cup of tea, 7 A.M. and breakfast as usual at 10;
turtle and gooney; Heavy sea on reef, and ship fast disappearing,
boats out picking up driftwood. Had to take the condenser and all wood
high up on the beach. Wind shifted suddenly from north to southeast.
Gave Talbot two hundred dollars in gold coin for possible expenses.
_Thursday, November 17._ Blowing hard from north. Tea at 7 A.M. The
gig anchored off shore. Mr. Bailey and I fixed up the well where
fresh water was found when mast fell; good-by to the old condenser.
"The little cherub that sits up aloft" doing good work for us all.
IV
THE SAILING OF THE GIG
_Friday, November 18._ The weather has been fine since the breaking up
of the storm of the second.
As to work, every one has had his duties portioned out to him, and
there is no doubt of the captain's wisdom in providing thus an
antidote to homesickness or brooding. Faces are--some of them--getting
"peaked," and quite a number of the party have been ill from lack of
power to digest the seal meat; but there are no complaints, we all
fare alike. Medicines are not to hand, but a day or two of abstinence
and quiet generally brings one around again. In the evenings, when we
gather around the smoking lamp after supper, there are frequent
discussions over our situation and prospects. They are, however,
mostly sanguine in tone, and it is not uncommon to hear the expression
"when we get home." No one _seems_ to have given up his hope of
eventual relief. It has been very noticeable, too, at such times that
no matter where the conversation begins it invariably swings around,
before the word is passed to "douse the glim," to those things of
which we are so completely deprived--to narratives of pleasant
gatherings--stories of banquets and festival occasions where toothsome
delicacies were provided. It would seem as though these reminiscences
were given us as a foil to melancholy, and they travel along with us
into our dreams.
Upon one point we are all agreed, that we are very fortunate in being
wrecked in so agreeable a climate, where heavy clothing is
unnecessary. The temperature has been, aside from the storm we had
soon after the landing, between seventy and seventy-five degrees
during the day and around fifty degrees at night. We are very sensible
of the discomforts that would be ours if tumbled upon some of the
islands of the northern ocean in winter.
The moonlit nights have been grand, and calculated to foster romance
in a sailor's thoughts were the surroundings appropriate. As it is,
the little cheer we extract from them is in the fact that we see the
same shining face that is illuminating the home of our loved ones.
Often in my corner of the tent, Mr. Foss and I pass what would be a
weary hour otherwise, over a game of chess, the pieces for which he
has fashioned from gooney bones and blocks of wood.
Mr. Main has made a wonderful nautical instrument--a sextant--from the
face of the Saginaw's steam gauge, together with some broken bits of
a stateroom mirror and scraps of zinc. Its minute and finely drawn
scale was made upon the zinc with a cambric needle, and the completed
instrument is the result of great skill and patience. Mr. Talbot has
tested it and pronounces it sufficiently accurate for navigating
purposes.
Another officer has made a duplicate of the official chart of this
part of the Pacific, and still another has copied all the Nautical
Almanac tables necessary for navigation.
I have been directed by the captain to make a selection from the
best-preserved supplies in the storehouse most suitable for boat
service, and calculate that Talbot will have the equivalent of
thirty-five days' provender at one-half rations, although many of the
articles are not in the regular ration tables.
This morning the boat was surrounded by many men and carried bodily
into water that was deep enough to float her. There she was anchored
and the stores carried out to her. Mr. Butterworth, standing waist
deep in the water, put on the last finishing touches while she was
afloat by screwing to the gunwales the rowlocks for use in calm
weather.
There was expended from store-book the following articles: ten
breakers (a small keg) of water, five days' rations of hard tack
sealed in tin, ten days of the same in canvas bags, two dozen small
tins of preserved meat, five tins (five pounds each) of dessicated
potato, two tins of cooked beans, three tins of boiled wheaten grits,
one ham, six tins of preserved oysters, ten pounds of dried beef,
twelve tins of lima beans, about five pounds of butter, one gallon of
molasses, twelve pounds of white sugar, four pounds of tea and five
pounds of coffee. A small tin cooking apparatus for burning oil was
also improvised and furnished.
[Illustration: JAMES BUTTERWORTH
Passed Assistant Engineer]
I had intended putting on board twenty-five pounds of boiled rice
in sealed tins, but discovered one of the tins to be swollen just
before the provisions were started off. Hastily the tins were opened
and the rice found unfit for use. The dessicated potatoes were at once
served out in place of the rice, the cans scalded and again sealed.
With the navigating instruments and the clothing of the voyagers on
board, the boat was pronounced ready and we went to dinner. There was
little conversation during the meal. The impending departure of our
shipmates hung like a pall of gloom over us at the last and was too
thought-absorbing for speech. Talbot seemed to be the most unconcerned
of all, but as I watched him I felt that the brave fellow was assuming
it to encourage the rest of us. I had a long friendly talk with him,
last evening, during which he seemed thoroughly to estimate the risk
he was to take, and entrusted to me his will to be forwarded to his
parents in Kentucky in case he should not survive the journey.
All hands have been given permission to send letters by the boat, so
all papers, together with a bill of exchange for two hundred pounds
sterling, which by order of the captain I have given to Talbot, have
been sealed air tight in a tin case. I sent the following letter to my
home in Philadelphia, which I will insert here, as it partially
represents the state of affairs:--
You will of course be surprised to receive a letter from this
desert island, but it now has a population of ninety-three men,
the Saginaw's crew. In short, we were wrecked on the coral reef
surrounding it, and the Saginaw is no more. We left Midway
Islands on the evening of Friday, October 28, and the next
morning at three o'clock found ourselves thumping on the reef.
We stayed by the ship until daylight, when we got out three
boats and all the provisions we possibly could. We also saved
the safe, part of the ship's books, about one fourth of my
clothing, and my watch. If you could see me now you would hardly
recognize me: a pair of boots almost large enough for two feet
in one, ragged trousers, an old felt hat, and no coat--I keep
that for evenings when it is cool. I have my best uniform saved,
having rescued it to come ashore in. We had to wade about two
hundred feet on the reef, and I stood in water about one half of
the day helping to pass provisions to the boats; then went
ashore and spread them on the beach to dry.
We have been living on very short allowance, being thankful for
a spoonful of beans, a small piece of meat twice a day, with a
cup of tea or coffee in the morning. I am indeed thankful that
no lives were lost, and hope to see you all in three months'
time. The gig has been decked over and is to start for Honolulu,
to-morrow or next day, for relief.
Ocean Island is similar in formation to Midway, but is larger
and the coral reef is farther from the land.
We had for breakfast this morning some of the brown albatross or
"goonies," as they call them. We shall not want for meat for
some time, as there is an abundance of fish seal and turtle, but
the flour, rice, and hard bread will not last more than two and
one half months.
I hope this will reach you before you get anxious about us, for
if the gig should not be successful we may have to stay here
until the middle of March. I shall send this in her to be mailed
from Honolulu. Our executive officer and four men go in her, and
a perilous trip it will be, for she is only twenty feet long and
the distance is over a thousand miles. Look us up on the map.
Most of our sails were saved and we are comparatively
comfortable in good tents. I am well but hungry. We have dug
wells, but found no fresh water. However, we are getting some
from a condenser fitted by our chief engineer. Altogether we
have more conveniences than might be expected and are in good
health generally. I should like to write to friends, but space
in the boat is scarce and everybody is writing.
The hour set for the boat's departure (four o'clock) arrived and we
were all mustered upon the beach. Prayers were read by the captain,
after which final farewells were said and the brave men who were to
peril their lives for us waded off to the gig and climbed on board.
They quickly stepped the little masts, spread the miniature sails,
raised their anchor, and slowly gaining headway stood off for the
western channel through the reef. With full hearts and with many in
tears, we gave them three rousing cheers and a tiger, which were
responded to with spirit, and we watched them until the boat faded
from sight on the horizon to the northward.
As I write this by the dim light of a candle the mental excitement due
from the parting with our shipmates seems still to pervade the tent
and no one is thinking of turning in.
Mr. Bailey, the foreman of the contractor's party, came into the tent
soon after we had gathered for the evening. He had in his hand a small
book and on his face a smile as he passed it around, showing each one
an open page of the book; when he reached me I saw it was a pocket
Bible opened at the fifty-first chapter of Isaiah, where Mr. B.'s
finger rested under the words, "The isles shall wait upon me and on my
arm shall they trust." He did not speak until I had read, and then
said he had opened the Bible by chance, as was his habit every
evening. Poor Bailey! We all feel very sorry for him. He is a fine
character, well advanced in years; and having by economy accumulated
considerable money, had bought himself a home, before coming out, to
which he was intending to retire when this contract was completed.
By invitation from the captain I accompanied him in walking around the
entire island, avoiding, however, the extreme point to the westward,
where albatross were nesting. He talked but little, and I saw that his
eyes often turned to the spot where the gig had disappeared from
view. As we separated in front of his little tent he said with a voice
full of pathos to me, "Good-night, Paymaster; God grant that we see
them again."
I find that I have so far omitted to give the personnel of Talbot's
crew. As stated before there were many volunteers, but the surgeon was
ordered to select from a list given him four of the most vigorous and
sturdy of the applicants and report their names to the captain. There
was considerable rivalry among them. In fact I was accidentally a
witness to a hard-fought wrestling-match between two of the crew who
sought the honor of going and risking their lives. The defeated one, I
was told, was to waive his claim in favor of the victor.
The following letter, which has gone in the boat from our captain to
the Admiral of the Pacific fleet, gives the personnel of the boat's
crew and other information.
OCEAN ISLAND, PACIFIC OCEAN,
November 16, 1870.
Rear Admiral John A. Winslow,
Commanding Pacific Fleet.
SIR:--I have the honor to recommend that the attention of the
Department be particularly called to the fine conduct of
Lieutenant J.G. Talbot. The day after the wreck of the Saginaw,
Lieutenant Talbot came to me and volunteered to take one of the
ship's boats to Honolulu in order to bring back relief for the
officers and crew of the vessel. He has been most zealous and
spirited through this whole affair and of the greatest
assistance to me.
His boat (by the usual route at this season) will probably have
to sail and pull some fifteen hundred miles, and I think some
recognition of his handsome conduct would be proper.
The names of the crew are as follows:--Lieutenant J.G. Talbot;
Coxswain William Halford; Quartermaster Peter Francis; Seaman
John Andrews; Seaman James Muir. The last two are contractor's
men and were specially enlisted by me from Mr. Townsend's party
for one month. They were men of such fine qualities and
endurance that I thought it proper to let them go.
The enlistment was made with the express understanding between
myself and them that it did not interfere with their previous
contract with Mr. Townsend.
I am very respectfully,
Your obedient servant,
MONTGOMERY SICARD,
Lieut.-Comd'r-commanding.
V
WAITING
_Thursday, November 24._ Thanksgiving Day--at home; the noble bird,
roast turkey, has not graced our tarpaulin-covered table. He has been
replaced by a tough section of albatross. Nor was there any expression
of thanks at the mess table until one of the officers, having finished
the extra cup of coffee served in honor of the day, said, "Say,
fellows, let's be thankful that we are alive, well and still with
hope."
Last evening about nine o'clock we were given another flurry of
excitement over expected relief. The storehouse sentry reported a
light to the eastward and in a "jiffy" our tent was empty. Sure
enough, there was a bright light close to the horizon which, as we
watched, appeared to grow larger and nearer. The captain was called,
and I joined him with Mr. Cogswell (our new executive officer since
Talbot left) in front of his tent. After watching the light for a few
minutes, the captain turned to us and said, "Gentlemen, it is only a
star rising and the atmosphere is very clear. Better turn in again";
and he entered the tent.
_Sunday, November 27._ Last Sunday and to-day we have had divine
service led by the captain reading the prayers of the Episcopal
ritual.
(_Note._--I find nothing but the Thanksgiving note in my journal after
the departure of the gig until November 27, other than official
entries of receipts and expenditures of food,--the receipt of seals
and albatross killed by Mr. Blye and his detail of men; the
expenditure being the same with the daily allowance of flour or beans
and the coffee for the noon meal.)
Work has been steadily pushed on the schooner. The keel has been hewed
out of the Saginaw's late topmast and is blocked up on the beach. We
are ripping the old deck planks in two with our old bucksaw and one
handsaw, and while it is slow work we can see our boat planking ahead
of us when the frame is ready. The schooner is to be forty feet long,
of centre-board, flat-bottomed type, and the captain has settled upon
her shape and dimensions after experimenting with a small model in
company with the contractor's carpenter, who has had experience in
boat-building.
This morning about sunrise the camp was roused to excitement by the
loud cry of "Sail ho!" I found on joining the crowd at the landing
that the captain had ordered a boat launched and her crew were already
pulling away in a northerly direction.
[Illustration: RIPPING TIMBERS FOR THE SCHOONER]
[Illustration: THE FRAME OF THE SCHOONER AS WE LEFT IT]
I could see nothing from the crow's nest at the masthead, but the
statement of one of the crew that he had seen a sail was positive;
and the camp was full of a nervous expectancy until nine o'clock, when
the boat returned with the disappointing news that the alleged sail
was only a large white rock on the north end of the reef that had
reflected the sun's rays. As the sun rose to a greater angle the
reflection disappeared. An order was at once given out that no one
should again alarm the camp before permission from the captain was
obtained.
_Sunday, December 25._ Christmas Day!! Merry Christmas at home, but
dreary enough here! Still the salutation was passed around in a
half-hearted manner. It is the first day since the wreck that
depression of spirit has been so contagious and camp-wide. The
religious services, as we stood in the sand bareheaded (some
barefooted also), hardly seemed to fit our situation, and the voice of
the captain was subdued and occasionally tremulous. I had donned my
best uniform coat, which had come ashore when the wreck was stripped,
and tried also to put on a cheerful face. No use; I could not keep up
the deceit, and I slipped out of line before the service was ended, to
change back to the blue sailor shirt and working clothes. I felt that
I had been "putting on airs." It has been my first really blue day,
for the pictures in my mind of the Christmas festivities at home but
emphasized the desolation of the life here.
Strangely enough, Dr. Frank has seemed to a certain extent to be more
cheerful than usual. It seems queer that he, pessimist as he appeared
to me when he predicted disaster before we sailed from the Midway
Islands, should now be the optimist and attempt to dispel our gloom.
Some expert in psychical research may be able to discern, as I cannot,
why the doctor's belief in Talbot's success should now have influence
enough to change my melancholy into a firmer hope than ever.
We borrowed the chart from the captain and followed in pure
imagination the course of the gig; and when we folded it, the doctor
said that he believed Talbot had arrived at the end of his journey and
we should be relieved. Talbot has now been away thirty-seven days, and
our several estimates of the time he would consume have been between
thirty and forty.
Every afternoon, when work is suspended for the day and we have
repaired to the tent, the expression of Talbot's whereabouts is the
first note of discussion; as though it had not been in our minds all
the long weary day of work.
As the possible failure of Talbot's brave effort begins to enter our
calculations, the greater is the exertion to provide in the near
future another avenue of escape. So, with gradually weakened
strength, owing to lack of sustaining food, the labor we find arduous
and exhausting; I, being included in the carpenter's gang on the
schooner, realize that fact thoroughly. Yesterday the captain and
myself made another circuit of the island, and both were glad to rest
on the return to the camp.