_Excerpt from the log of Captain Matt Peasley relief skipper of the
American barkentine Retriever; Manila to San Francisco._
May Third.--Seaman Olaf Lindstrom died to-day, following an illness of
thirty-six hours. He was taken with chills and fever on the morning
of the second, complained of a severe headache and vomited repeatedly.
Removed him from the forecastle to a spare room in the forward house,
which on the _Retriever_ has always been used as a sick bay. While being
supported along the deck he collapsed, and when the mate undressed him
and put him to bed he complained of soreness in his groins. I examined
them and found them slightly swollen. Treated him for ague--calomel,
salts, quinine and whisky, and one-fortieth-grain strychnine hypodermic
solution to keep up his heart action when the fever registered one
hundred and four and higher. He grew steadily worse. Could not find
anything in my Home Book of Medicine that exactly described his
symptoms, and was at a loss to diagnose Lindstrom's case until I
discovered the ship's cat with a rat it had just killed.
There were no rats aboard the _Retriever_ when she left San Francisco.
I recalled that the first night we tied up to the dock in Manila a dirty
little China Coast tramp lay just ahead of us; and as I passed her on my
way uptown I saw a rat run down her gangplank. She had rat-guards on
her mooring lines. We had just tied up to the dock and I returned
immediately and instructed the mate to be sure to put the rat-guards on
our mooring lines, and not to use any sort of gangplank. When I returned
to the vessel later that night I found that the mate had neglected to
put on the rat-guards and logged him for it. Before we left the dock a
Chinaman died of bubonic plague aboard that tramp, and the port health
authorities put the vessel in quarantine immediately and prevented
further spread of the disease.
When I saw the ship's cat with a rat, therefore, I knew we had some of
that rotten China Coaster's plague rats aboard. Accordingly threw cat
and rat overboard just as the cook announced Lindstrom's death. Upon
looking up the information on plague, I am now convinced we have it
aboard--that Linstrom died of it. First Mate Olaf Matson wrapped
himself in my old bathrobe, gloved his hands and threw Lindstrom's body
overboard, following it with the gloves and bathrobe.
I am, in a measure, prepared for plague. When I learned we had lain
close to a vessel with a case of plague aboard I laid in some plague
medicine, on general principles and just to have an anchor out to
windward. At the English drug store on the Escolta I bought a tiny
bottle of Yersin's Antipest Serum and another of Haffkine's Prophylactic
Fluid. It was all they had on hand and it wasn't much; but--it is enough
to save me--and I intend to be saved if possible. I cannot afford to die
now. I do not know how old the Haffkine's Fluid is; and the older it is,
the longer it takes to render one immune. The antipest serum will render
me immune immediately, but the duration of the immunity thus granted
lasts, at the most, only fifteen days. I must, therefore, first take a
hypodermic injection of antipest serum to render me immune immediately
and the next day follow with an injection of Haffkine's Fluid, which
gives permanent immunity, but not for a week or longer when used alone.
There is this devilish thing about it to be considered, however: I may
at this moment be inoculated with plague, for the period of incubation
is from three to seven days--and I've fondled that cat every day since
we left Manila. If I am already infected and do not know it, and while
in that condition take an injection of the antipest serum, the book says
the serum will immediately bring on a fatal and virulent attack of the
plague! On the other hand, if I am not inoculated and take the antipest
serum I am safe.
The question before the house, therefore, is: Shall I take it or shall
I not? And if I do take it shall I be saving my life or committing
suicide? I am like the fellow in the story who was forced to drink from
one of two glasses of wine. He knew one of them contained poison, but
he didn't know which one it was! I shall make my will and flip a coin to
decide the issue.
May Fourth.--Two a.m. Mate reports another sick man in the forecastle.
Wish I had some formaldehyde gas. Have told mate to sprinkle chloride
of lime in Lindstrom's bunk and to dust the walls and floors of the
forecastle and sick bay with it. That is the only disinfectant I have
aboard in quantity.
At midnight I flipped the coin--heads I'd take it; tails I wouldn't. The
coin fell heads--and I took it.
Four a.m.--Mustered the crew and gave them a lecture on bubonic plague.
I have sufficient antipest serum for four men. After explaining that it
was Hobson's choice, I asked the men to draw matches, held in the hand
of the first mate, to see who should be the lucky ones. They all decided
to take a chance and go without it, with the exception of two seamen and
the mates, who, learning that I had taken it, decided to follow suit.
Accordingly I inoculated them with the antipest serum.
Five p.m.--Inoculated myself with Haffkine's Fluid.
Seven-thirty.--Seaman Ross died. Mr. Matson threw the body overboard. No
services.
Midnight.--Mr. Matson is down with it.
May Fifth.--Mr. Matson very ill and delirious. Cook moping round like
a drunken man; complains of severe headache. Wind blowing lightly from
south-west. Everything set. Inoculated second mate and the two seamen
with Haffkine's.
May Sixth.--Mr. Matson died at noon today. Cook down with it; also
another seaman, and Mr. Eccles, the second mate. Have altered ship's
course and am running for Hongkong. Winds light and baffling. Have not
made thirty miles today. Calm at midnight. Mr. Eccles died just as the
watches were being changed. I now feel that I have escaped; so examined
Mr. Eccles' body. He went so fast I am curious. No swelling of the
glands at all. Am inclined to think his was pneumonic or septicaemic.
Threw him overboard myself.
May Seventh.--Light and baffling airs all day; monsoon blowing in weak
puffs. Another seaman ill. So ends this day.
May Eighth.--Cook died at noon. No buboes on him either. He turned
kind of black. I was chief undertaker. No airs to speak of. Ship barely
making steerage way. So ends this day.
May Ninth.--Seaman Peterson died early this morning. Do not know exact
hour. Found him dead in his berth. Another funeral; no services. Monsoon
freshening. Made forty-eight miles today. Two more seamen on sick
report; and, to add to my worries, they are the very two I inoculated
with the antipest serum and Haffkine's. Is this stuff worthless?
May Tenth.--Seamen Halloran and Kaiser died within an hour of each other
this evening--Halloran at nine-thirty and Kaiser at ten-eighteen. Put
both bodies overboard immediately.
I have four seamen left, and am doing the cooking, navigating, nursing
and undertaking. Wind freshening hourly. Made seventy-two miles today.
Glad Florry and Cappy Ricks cannot see me now, although, for some fool
reason, I have a notion I shall see them again. If I were going to get
plague it would have developed before now. I feel quite safe, but most
unhappy and worried.
Midnight.--Seaman Anderson down with it. Jumped overboard to save me the
bother of throwing him overboard about the day after to-morrow, which
is a courtesy I did not expect of Anderson. I am obliged to him. I am
exhausted and so are my three remaining seamen. We cannot handle the
canvas now, so have taken in the foresail, royals, and topgallant sails,
hauled down the flying jib and got the gaff topsail off her, leaving
her under the jib, fore-topmast staysail, upper and lower fore-topsails,
main-topmast staysail, mainsail and spanker. Hove her to and turned in.
May Eleventh.--After a horrible breakfast, which I cooked, got under way
again. Monsoon blowing nicely, but under the small amount of canvas I
am forced to carry cannot make more than six miles an hour. Have decided
not to run to Hongkong. If I am to lose my three remaining seamen I
shall have lost them long before I sight land, and the tug or steamer
that hooks on to me off Hongkong will stick me with a terrific salvage
bill. If I'm going to be stuck I prefer to be stuck closer to home, and
if I manage to keep these three men the four of us can sail her home.
I'll take a chance and run up the coast of Asia with the Japan Stream
until I reach the northeast monsoon. I'm certain to be spoken and can
send word to Florry. In a pinch, at this season of the year, I can sail
her home alone.
May Fifteenth.--I am alone on the ship. Into the Japan Stream, monsoon
blowing the sweetest it ever blew. Lucky thing for me I had the
forethought to trim her down; otherwise I should have had to cut away a
lot of canvas. And how Cappy Ricks would scream at the sail bill later
on! We were hove to overnight when Borden and Jacobsen died, on the
thirteenth. McBain complained of a headache and vertigo on the morning
of the fourteenth; so I laid to until he died, last night. I was not
with him when he passed. What good would it have done? I had breakfast;
and after breakfast I found him in his berth, dead. I tossed him
overboard, and every last rag of clothing, dunnage and blankets aboard,
with the exception of those in my own cabin. Then I burned sulphur in
the fore-castle, the galley, the cook's room and the stateroom formerly
occupied by the mates, closed the doors, and hoped for the best. Slept a
lot that day and night; and at eight this morning slacked off my spanker
and main sheets, checked in my foreyard and topsail by taking the the
braces to the donkey engine, and was off for home.
Have established my commissary in the lee of the wheel box. Set up a
small kerosene stove I found in the storeroom, and get along nicely. It
is quite an art to fry eggs with one hand and steady the wheel with the
other, but I managed it three times today. To-morrow I will cook enough
at breakfast to last me for luncheon and supper; hence will only have to
heat some coffee.
Logged fifty-one miles by eight o'clock; then lashed the wheel and let
her take care of herself while I got steam up in the donkey and hauled
in my spanker and mainsail; then I slacked off my foreyard and topsail
yards, hove her to on the port tack, hung three red lights on the
forestay to show she wasn't under command, set my alarm clock and turned
in. I have to smile at the ease with which one man--provided he is a
sizable man and able to stand strain--can sail a barkentine before the
wind in fair weather. I am not worried. I am not going to have bubonic
plague. It is horribly lonely, but I am due for fair winds--and I should
worry.
Even if I should get a blow and have to take the lower topsail off her,
I can lower the yard by the topsail halyards until it rests on the cap;
then I'll skip aloft and run a knife along the head of the topsail and
let it whip to glory. After that it may blow and be damned! All the
clothes the old girl is wearing now will never take the sticks out of
her. I've trimmed her down to jib, lower topsail, fore-topmast staysail,
mainsail and spanker. Wish I dared carry the foresail. However, I
must play safe. It is awful, though, to be in a ship as fast as the
_Retriever_ and have to crawl the way I'm crawling. Crawl all day and
sleep all night! Well, sometimes I can crawl all day and night and sleep
half a day. We shall see. I used to be able to stand considerable before
I hit the beach and got soft. The necessity for firing the donkey every
night would soon exhaust my fuel supply; but I have a deck-load of
hardwood logs! [Illustration: (_Excerpt from the log of Cap't Matt
Peasley_) “I am alone on the ship--all the rest are now dead”--]