THE SOUTHERN CROSS
IT was still snowing as we were nearing the Falkland Islands. I was
on the quarter-deck with Jones and some of the sailors. We had just
finished taking in some of the sails, when Peterson called out to us:
“I say, boys, just look astern at the fireworks, there’s a sight.” It
was a truly magnificent sight, there above the horizon was a splendid
display of southern lights. Imagine about twenty rainbows all clustered
together, the centre one being straight and those on either side curved
outward like an open fan, their prismatic hues lighting up every spar,
rigging and sail with a wonderful glow of colour, the pure white snow
with which the ship was coated reflecting the colours from a thousand
points. It was indeed a wonderful and a splendid sight, one that I
shall never forget, and it is one I have never seen since.
After passing the Falkland Islands the weather moderated, and we had
a spell of fine bright days, then began the usual overhauling of the
rigging, sails, etc. This is the work that all true sailors like;
Jones and I were delighted at the prospect of getting plenty of it.
The officers and men were always ready to teach us boys anything we
wanted to learn, and I must say we tried to do our best to repay
them by always shewing ourselves ready and willing to oblige them.
Nothing troubled us, we scarcely knew what it was to be tired, and as
for a kick or a blow, or any unkindness from any of the men, we never
experienced any such thing during the whole of the voyage.
One night in the first watch, the night being calm, with a cloudless
sky, the second mate called me aft, and, pointing to the beautiful
constellation of the southern cross, said:
“By the look of the cross, it must be close to four bells.” (10 p.m.).
“Go and look if I am right,” he added.
I went into the cabin, and looking at the clock found it to be five
minutes past ten. I struck the bell, and wondering how Mr. Weeler could
possibly tell the time by looking at the stars; I went back to him and
asked if he would tell me how this was done.
“Certainly I will,” he said, “I am glad you have asked me this, there
is no part in a seaman’s training so fascinating and so wonderful as
the study of the stars, the more you learn about them, the more you
will want to learn, that is, of course, if you want to get on in your
profession, and from what I have seen of you I don’t think you’ll be
contented with the forecastle all your life.”
“No, indeed, sir,” I replied, “I hope to work up to be an officer like
you, sir, if you don’t mind my saying it.”
Mr. Weeler smiled.
“Here,” he said, “in latitude 28° south, the cross rises in the east
and sets in the west At midnight, or six hours after rising, it bears
due south, and this is the only time the cross seems to stand upright,
so you see, when I called you, I had noticed the cross was about
two-thirds distance between a horizontal and a perpendicular position,
which would happen about 10 p.m.”
I thanked him, and from that day he regularly gave me lessons about
the stars, and I grew more and more interested in them and in other
heavenly bodies, as I learned more about their wonderful system as time
went on.
All that night and the next day we lay becalmed, and the next night
was as black as pitch with a light easterly wind. Towards midnight the
sea became one perfect sheet of phosphorus--a silver sea, overhead the
sky was quite black, but the light thrown off from the surface was
sufficient to read a book by. We seemed to be a phantom ship sailing
on a silver sea. After gazing for some time at the wondrous sight, I
went aft to the poop, where I saw Mr. Weeler, bent on satisfying my
curiosity as to the why and the wherefore of all I saw. He saw me as
I got to the poop ladder, and calling me aft, asked how I liked the
silver sea.
“I was wondering what caused it, sir,” I answered.
“It is caused by myriads of tiny fish like shrimps and jellyfish,” he
replied, “and it is only on a night like this that we can see them.”
I stood and looked at it for some time, it was so beautiful, and
through my mind passed the words from the “Good Old Book:” “They that
go down to the sea in ships, these see the wonders of the Lord.” I felt
how true it was, for every day shewed me some new wonder.
After crossing the doldrums, we had fairly good weather right up to the
Island of Antonio--Cape Verde Islands. Here we got the north-east trade
winds.
And then the work began in earnest--lockers, rooms, forecastle, cabins
were all turned out in turn, cleaned, painted and polished up like a
new pin, and woe be to the man who upset his paint, or made a mess
after the place was once cleaned. Yards, masts and bulwarks each in
their turn received attention, and then the decks were scraped with
sharp steel scrapers, and afterwards holy-stoned fore and aft, until
you could eat your food off them, they were so spick and span.
We passed a number of outward bound ships, among them the “Ivanhoe,”
“Roderick Dhu,” “Portia,” “Commonwealth,” etc. We signalled them, and
they all wished to be reported all well.
Our ship was sailing along at about nine knots per hour; the crew were
making paunch, mats, sinnet, etc., and standing by to work sails, all
the painting being done, and the stores expended, there was nothing
much to do.
We lost the trades in 33° north, and then we had two days calm. On the
morning of the second day, the sea being calm and smooth, an unusual
disturbance arose on the water about a mile distant. A large fish was
seen to spring about twelve feet out of the water, and go down head
first. Then we saw the huge tail of a sperm whale rise out of the
water and thrash the surface. As we drew nearer, we could see that
the disturbance was caused by an encounter between a sperm whale,
sword fish, and a thrasher. We now saw what looked like the vanes of a
windmill revolving in the foam, and a wet black arm rose and fell out
of the white seething water, like the blades of a propeller rotating
under the counter of a light steamer.
“See that,” shouted the chief mate, who was on the poop, “there’s a
fight that you don’t often see, a fight between a whale, a thrasher,
and a swordfish.”
We all rushed aft to look over the side. As we got nearer the spectacle
grew in magnitude and proved to be one of the most terrible pictures
the imagination could conceive, even of the sea, that vast theatre
of wonder and terror. There was so much fury of foaming water, the
monster whale thrashing the water with his tail, spouting, and doing
his best to dive below the surface, but his arch enemy, the swordfish,
was there, watching his every movement, probing him with his terrible
sword and keeping him on the surface; now and again we caught sight of
a large space of the gleaming body of the huge whale, upon which the
great arms of the thrasher were beating its blows, as it leaped out
of the water and came down on the top of him, cutting great gashes in
his side, the blows sounding like the blows from a giant blacksmith’s
hammer on an enormous anvil. Attacked as he was above and below, the
whale seemed powerless between his two small, yet terrible, foes. The
water around grew thick with blood and sperm. Presently, however, by a
quick move on the whale’s part, he caught the thrasher a blow with his
tail, and killed it. Then he dived, and as far as we could see, the
fight was over.
A breeze springing up from the west, we were heading for the Channel.
The wind and sea steadily increased, until we were staggering under
the pressure of canvas, heading for the Lizard. Three days afterwards
we sighted and passed the famous Lizard’s lights, and running up the
Channel, before a westerly gale, were soon off the Ness. A fine cutter
came alongside of us, and a pilot climbed out of her and over our side.
With what interest and admiration did I look at his weather-beaten
visage and survey his stout coat and warm woollen comforter, then a tug
picked us up, and before long the coast of our dear old home lay fair
and beautiful upon our port beam and bow. Two nights after we entered
the West India Dock.
Finding the crew would not be paid off until the third day after our
arrival, I went home to Liverpool by the Board of Trade arrangements,
and they forwarded my wages on to me. Besides my wages, I received
a sovereign from the captain, and one from Mr. Weeler. The captain
spoke very kindly to me, and said he was pleased both with my work and
conduct. He also gave me an ordinary seaman’s discharge, and said he
would be pleased to take me another voyage if I wanted to go.
I felt very sorry to leave them all, for a better crew it was never my
good fortune to sail with. The captain was all that anyone could wish,
and Mr. McLean’s, the chief mate’s, bark was worse than his bite; Mr.
Weeler I felt leaving more than all, for he was as good a friend as
it was possible to be to me, and to all young sailors that he came in
contact with, and many of his words and actions I shall never forget.
Thus ended my first voyage at sea. I thought then, as I think now, with
all its ups and downs, its fair weather and foul, there is no life
like a sea life, when one is young. Talk about danger, there is far
more danger on land than on sea, and there is no place on God’s earth
where one sees the wonderful works of Almighty God as on the boundless,
restless ocean.
“The twilight is sad and cloudy.
The wind blows wild and free,
And like the wings of the seabirds,
Flash the white caps of the sea.”