A CATASTROPHE
When we consider the illimitable stretches of ocean over which a
sailing ship has to work her way by grace and favour of the winds, and
the innumerable possibilities, not merely of disaster but of adventure,
befalling such a ship on account of the well-known variability of those
invisible aids of commerce, it is nothing short of marvellous that
there should be so many men afloat who will tell you with perfect truth
that they have been sailing for so many years and have never met with
an accident of any kind, nay, that they hardly know what bad weather
means. To a man who can scarcely cross one ocean without meeting at
least a heavy gale, and who looks for trouble as a necessary adjunct to
his profession, this is a strong reason for belief in luck, since he
cannot disbelieve that what so many of his co-workers tell him is true.
So far, I think Frank’s experiences had been about the average, but
he was now to meet with something that some men who go all their
lives to sea know nothing of--an East Indian cyclone. These terrific
disturbances of the atmosphere are not peculiar to the Indian Ocean,
but are also met with in the Atlantic and Pacific within the tropics,
and are called cyclones, typhoons, or hurricanes, according to their
locality. But the word hurricane, like “awful,” “shocking,” “terrible,”
&c., has nearly lost its meaning owing to its being improperly applied
very often by some excited passenger to what is really only a moderate
gale, and thence getting into a newspaper. It has become suspect, like
the oft-repeated phrase met with in print, “The captain said that in
all his experience of ---- years he had never known such a storm.”
Captains may say that with a definite purpose in view to a persistent
questioner whom they think will report their words, but if it were only
partially true it would argue that storms were continually becoming so
much more violent than of old that we are in danger of being swept off
the surface of the globe altogether.
But the language of exaggeration can hardly be applied to a
typical East Indian cyclone, because it is one of those appalling
manifestations of Nature’s energy when man is made to feel his physical
insignificance in the scheme of things, so that it is beyond all
extravagances of description, which indeed only tend to disfigure and
misrepresent its real proportions. So I shall endeavour to be quite
simple in my description of the experience which Frank was now called
upon to pass through. It began very quietly. They were just about in
the heart of the Trade Winds, or about half-way up to Java Head from
St. Paul’s, when one evening in the first dog-watch Frank, being at
the wheel, noticed that the sun at setting had lost his usual splendid
lustre, and seemed of a sickly greenish red. At the same time the
steady genial breeze which had sent them speedily northward began to
falter and die away.
Mr. Jacks lounged over the lee rail, his eyes fixed upon the western
horizon. There was a profound silence only punctuated by the flap of
the sails and the creak of the ropes as the ship rolled lazily on
the swell in the dying breeze. Suddenly the skipper appeared up the
companion and cast a comprehensive glance around and aloft. His face
was set and stern, but showed no trace of hesitation such as he must
have felt. Then he strolled over to where the second mate stood and
said, “Looks queer, Mr. Jacks.”
“Yes, sir,” responded that officer, “very queer. If the glass----”
“Yes, it does,” sharply interrupted the skipper, “it’s away down ever
so low; 29.34 already, and it only started to fall at noon. But this
last hour it has been going and no mistake. Well, you can start and get
the kites in, and at four bells we’ll put all hands on it. There isn’t
much time to lose, I’m sure, and anyway there’s little or no wind to
waste.”
Thenceforward until eight o’clock the Sealark was a scene of the most
violent activity, every rag of sail in her with the exception of the
main lower-topsail and fore-topmast staysail, both of which were
fortified with additional gear for securing them in a hurry, was not
only furled with the utmost care, but extra gaskets were put on, and
no corner of canvas allowed to show that might invite the grip of the
cyclone fiend to seize it and rip the whole sail adrift. Every article
that could be moved on deck or below was fortified in its position by
additional lashings, preventer backstays were set up and life-lines
were stretched fore and aft in case of the bulwarks going. Finally the
ship was put upon the starboard tack in order that when the wind began
to haul she should come up to it, and not be liable to the great danger
of being caught aback. And then, with the exception of the man at the
wheel, all hands were dismissed to rest and a good meal to fortify them
for the coming event.
There was a long and very painful period of waiting, during which it
was perfectly calm, and the air was hot and oppressive. But the sea
gave evident signs of the approaching storm by its steady rise into an
enormous swell, long hills of glassy water rolling in upon the ship
in solemn orderly succession from the westward, conveying in the most
unmistakable language to all what a tremendous force was being exerted
upon the sea far beyond the horizon. The sky above grew black and near,
and there was a strong smell of sulphur in the air. And the mercury in
the tube of the barometer fell steadily, palpitating meanwhile in its
glass prison as if in sympathy with some disturbance in the atmosphere
as yet unfelt by human sense. At last, when it was close upon midnight,
the pitchy heavens began to show tiny trickles of light, fairy-like
streakings, such as one may see at almost any time by closing the eyes
and pressing the fingers on the lids. Then a hot breath of wind, which
made every one on deck start and stare in the direction from whence
it had come. Another and another, fiercer and fiercer, until in five
minutes from that first sultry zephyr the tempest had begun.
It only remained to them now to hold on and endure, hoping in the
staunchness of their ship, which was tested to the utmost, and thankful
to know that all they could do by way of preparation had been done.
For in that gigantic conflict of the elements wherein for a time the
wind was so far victor that the sea was held flat as by the pressure
of the hand of God, no man might expose himself and live, much less do
anything, even if aught remained to be done. Indeed it was difficult to
breathe anywhere except shut up within bulkheads, not merely because of
the amazing commotion in the air, but because that air was so mingled
with water torn from the surface of the defeated sea that it was almost
like inhaling water.
But the skipper and his two faithful officers watched compass and
barometer with intense scrutiny, noting with the most jealous care how
she lay with regard to the wind, how it was hauling, and hoping that
the cyclone would at least obey the regular law, and not complicate
matters by any recurving owing to their being so far to the eastward.
Suddenly the sympiesometer (a more sensitive kind of barometer) began
to rise, followed more sedately by the mercury, and the skipper sighed,
“Thank God, there’s one half of it over anyway.” Only the clock warned
them that eight hours had passed since the cyclone first struck them,
for it was still dark as the pitch lake of Trinidad.
And now the floodgates of heaven opened as the wind slowly eased its
awful force, and it was difficult indeed to know whether the vessel
was still above water or below it. Moreover, as the wind fell the sea
rose, and she began to tumble about in truly horrible fashion, making
it a most difficult thing to maintain a position by holding on with all
one’s strength. And this condition of things grew steadily worse, until
it seemed as if the two poor boys on their first voyage would die with
fright. Small blame to them. If ever fear is justifiable, and I hold it
most certainly is, it is at such a time as this, when sky and sea meet
in the utmost outpouring of their powers. Frank and Johnson felt many
qualms but said nothing--it was no time for talking anyhow, but like
good sailors they just held on to their patience and hoped for the best.
The wind still dropped, and the sea rose higher and higher. The roar
of the storm had died down, but was succeeded by the immense crashing
chorus of the thunder and the falling masses of water--it is absurd
to call it rain. It was impossible to feel any lightening of anxiety,
although the wind had taken off so greatly, because the pressing dark
and hideous tumult forebade the uprising of hope. All felt bound and
depressed beyond measure, but also mercifully beyond the reach of fear,
for they had passed the limit of human capacity for being afraid. But
still they held on mechanically as the staunch ship was flung from
sea to sea like a tennis-ball between rackets, only with much more
irregular motion. And the one idea predominant in all minds but that
of the two youngest boys was, “How long can she possibly endure?” As
for the top-hamper, that spread of yards and towering masts, they had
forgotten it, or if they did remember it for a moment, it was with
an incurious detachment of mind as about something which no longer
concerned them, over which at any rate they had no control.
It was almost calm, but the infernal tumult was at its height when
suddenly there burst upon them, like the crack of doom, the other half
of the storm. It struck them with the impact of an impalpable mountain,
irresistible, and over she went. All their senses were merged in one
effort to hold on wherever they were, and had she then gone down to the
bottom quickly I doubt whether any of them would have suffered more
than a momentary spasm of pain. But she did not go farther than over on
her beam ends, and then almost as suddenly she righted again. And even
then the sufferers noted a certain definite change in her movements,
a change for the better, but one for which they could not account.
However, it was soon evident that the worst was over, and that they
were still alive.
And, as the rain and thunder ceased, a dim light began to struggle
through the rifts in the pall of driving clouds, revealing to them the
reason of the sudden change in the feel of their ship. That amazing
blast had made a clean sweep of her masts above the tops, and only a
few remnants of what had been a far-spreading entanglement of topsail,
topgallant and royal yards, with their accompanying masts, dangled
pathetically downward from the deserted lower masts, while the gear,
like a drowned woman’s hair, was wrapped about and mingled with the
remaining wreckage, forming a snarled-up mass which appeared only open
to one mode of treatment, namely, that of being chopped clean away.
Men thought grimly of their careful labour in furling those sails so
securely which had now gone, yards and all, and then as the claims of
their life again began to assert themselves, they thought of what lay
before them in the bringing of their ship to some place where she might
again be made fit to do her work.
The weather rapidly improved, and Captain Jenkins, able to walk his
quarter-deck once more, looked sternly at the wreck and said to his
mate, “We’ve got our hands full here, Cope.”
The mate shrugged his shoulders and replied, “No doubt of that, sir.
But what are you thinking of doing, working back to Mauritius or going
on to Anjer? Seems almost a pity to go back now, doesn’t it, when we
are so well over?”
“Oh,” hastily answered the skipper, “I had no idea of Mauritius, might
almost as well abandon her at once; she would cost a jolly sight more
than ship and cargo are worth by the time the Port Louis folks had
picked her bones and we’d got her to Hong-Kong. No, no, we’ll go on,
anyhow. As soon as ever the boys have had a feed and a smoke, turn to
and clear away that raffle o’ gear. We’ll save all we can of it, for
the Lord knows we’ve little enough to make shift with, and I very much
doubt the ability of Anjer to supply our needs. It’s never been much
since Krakatoa.”
So after about an hour’s spell, behold all hands toiling like beavers,
led by Mr. Jacks and Hansen, who seemed suddenly endowed with the
ability to do impossible things, and were seen hanging in the most
precarious positions, hacking, shouting, pushing, and infecting
everybody with their own feverish energy, the energy of men who had
got a task they felt supremely capable of performing, and one moreover
entirely after their own hearts. Again and again the skipper thanked
his stars he had not lost the second mate at Penarth, for he knew
that such a man as this splendid type of seaman was one of the rarest
jewels, and literally priceless in an emergency of this kind.
Such was the enthusiasm engendered among the crew by this splendid
example that there was no need to enforce labour--every man did his
very best, while Frank and Johnson, their young hearts fired by this
splendid opportunity of showing how they had profited by the lessons
they had learned, worked so hard that it was necessary to restrain
them, lest they should forget their limitations and lay themselves up.
The old carpenter, too, who might have been considered by unthinking
folks ashore as almost past his work, wrought steadily with his broad
axe, adze, and topmaul to fit the jury spars for their service aloft,
muttering congratulations to himself all the while that the lower
masts had stood the strain and left a good foundation whereon to
erect topmasts and topsail yards at least, with which no ship can be
considered helpless.
None of them gave a second thought to the grim fact that all of the
boats were gone or else driven in like a bundle of slats, either by
force of wind or weight of sea; but then your sailor is apt to think
little about boats until the necessity comes to use them, and even
resents the good rules that make him in a passenger ship handle them
periodically to see that they are all in order.
But on the third day of this great work, when they were saying one to
another that they had done so well that another couple of days would
see them under as good trim as possible--able at any rate to compass
four knots an hour with anything like a decent breeze--while they were
in the middle of their multifarious activities, the attention of all
was suddenly arrested by the appearance of a thin blue spiral of smoke
arising from one of the ventilators and lazily curling upward into
the blue above. No word was said, but instantly the heads of all on
deck were turned towards it, the minds of all traced it to its origin,
and the bowels of all began to heave with that indefinable sense of
the imminence of an awful danger, a sensation like that upon first
experiencing a shock of earthquake.
This pause only lasted a few seconds, and then the clear, quiet tones
of the skipper were heard: “Mr. Cope, come aft here a minute.”
“Aye aye, sir,” replied the mate, mechanically reaching for a wad
of oakum and wiping his hands, but without haste, and following the
skipper’s steady steps into the cabin. As soon as they entered they
felt that their worst anticipations were realised--the cargo of stern
coal was on fire by spontaneous combustion, for the smoke was filling
the cabin.
“Now, Cope,” said the skipper quietly, “this is a bad business,
especially coming on top of the other, but the first thing is to locate
the fire without alarming the chaps. They’re pretty good, but this
is calculated to put the fear of God into the best of men who cares
what becomes of him. You see the hold’s full of smoke by the way it’s
pouring into the cabin, and going down to see is out of the question,
so now the only thing to do is to bore through the three hatches,
after plugging up all the ventilators, and then lead the monkey pump
down the hole that the most smoke comes out of, and try and drown it
out. Updraught is what we have to fear most, as long as we can keep it
smothered it will only smoulder, and we may drown it; of course, we
can’t do anything with the gas--as far as that is concerned we must
trust to God’s mercy. Luckily she’s an iron ship. Can you fasten off
aloft so as to keep the bit of sail we are carrying safe, and set all
hands free to pump for their lives?”
“Oh yes, sir,” cheerfully answered Mr. Cope, “a couple of hours at the
outside will enable us to carry the fore and main lower-topsails and
the lower staysails and spanker. With this breeze she ought to make
Anjer in a week like that.”
The skipper sighed heavily as if seeing nothing at Anjer but safety for
his crew, for there was little hope there of saving his ship, he felt,
and that is always the chief concern of every skipper worth his salt.
But he only said, “All right, Cope, make all the haste you can to get
finished aloft, while Chips and I will see about these hatch-holes.”
The absence of any fuss or symptoms of alarm did just what was needed
to prevent any undue worry on the part of the men, although they could
not help casting an occasional regretful glance to where the boats
had been, and it was equally impossible for them to help now and then
looking at the spiral of smoke still ascending, a symbol of the most
fateful significance. But they worked with the utmost docility, and
Frank could not help remarking to Hansen, “What a wonderful adventure
we are having, to be sure.” Hansen only grunted and looked pityingly at
the eager face of the youth apparently so unable to realise the danger
of the situation.
Very soon the loose ends had been secured aloft, and the men coming
down were called aft to rig the hand-pump, a quaint old machine used
for washing decks, but capable of throwing a good stream of water with
four hands to the brakes. The skipper and carpenter had found that a
much fiercer volume of smoke ascended from the hole they had cut in the
main hatch than anywhere else, and, moreover, there, as they well knew,
the coal rose nearer to the main deck, being as usual piled amidships
for stowage purposes, making the ship easier in a seaway. So with the
suction-hose trailing overboard and the discharge-pipe pointed down the
small hole bored in the main hatch, the weary task of pumping water
into the ship was begun, and before long the escape of steam from
various places showed that the incoming water had reached at least a
portion of the fire.
Then the most careful stoppage of every outlet was effected, and the
skipper said with an air of relief, “Well, the steam will help to
choke the fire anyhow, although Heaven knows how much there is of it.”
Except for this quiet remark to the mate, Captain Jenkins might to all
appearance have been dealing with one of the most ordinary incidents of
a sailor’s career. He felt rather than knew how closely he was being
watched by his men, who at a time like this reflect in a remarkable
degree the character of their commander.
Now, of course, all work that could be avoided was stopped in order
that the labour of all hands might be concentrated upon the one needful
thing, subduing the fire. It was found that one watch could manage to
keep the pump going and do the steering without undue pressure on the
men, while the boys and the officers could do a little aloft in adding
some lighter sails to those they had been able to set. So that for two
or three days the water was steadily poured into her until she began to
settle so low that the captain decided it was dangerous to flood her
any more.
And yet the fire was obviously not subdued, for, as soon as the
ventilating hole was opened, smoke as well as steam burst forth, and,
moreover, the ship felt dangerously hot. However, the weather remained
beautifully fine and the sea quite smooth, with steady Trades, before
which the waterlogged _Sealark_ crept gradually northward, and the
crew, released from the pump, were kept busy adding to their makeshift
appliances aloft, but without affecting her speed much, she being now
so deep in the water.
But for the whole week never a sail did they see. Then there crawled
up to them a vessel which had evidently been through a similar stormy
experience to their own, for she looked very much as they did aloft.
Slowly the new-comer ranged alongside of them, revealing herself as
the four-masted barque _Windhover_ of London, having lost fore and
mizzen topmasts and maintopgallant masts, also a goodly portion of her
bulwarks, but having all her boats.
She came near enough to speak through the megaphone, and condolences
were duly exchanged, while the new-comer naturally inquired whether
the _Sealark_ had sprung a leak. When he was told the dread truth he
immediately offered one of his lifeboats, for, as he said, “You never
know what may happen in a case of that kind, and at present you’re very
like rats in a trap. Without a boat or anything whatever on deck that
you can make a raft of--it’s too bad.”
So the two cripples were hove to, and very curious they looked,
recalling almost the old battle-pictures of ships after an action;
while the crew of the _Windhover_, feeling full of sympathy for their
unfortunate sea brethren, worked with a will. They did not at all
realise how familiarity with the awful danger beneath the feet of the
_Sealark’s_ crew had blunted their sense of its terrors, and so were
full of wonder also that all the apparently doomed men should be taking
things so calmly.
As soon as the boats were ready, the captain of the _Windhover_ paid
a visit to the _Sealark_, and was of course warmly welcomed by his
brother skipper, who took him below and offered such hospitality as he
had at his command. Then the new-comer did the only thing possible,
offered to take them all off the ship if Captain Jenkins should feel so
inclined, knowing at the same time that were their positions reversed
he would never dream of accepting such an offer.
“Thank you very much,” said Captain Jenkins, “but I think we’ll see her
through. I’ve got as good a crew as a man could wish for, from the mate
downwards, and if the worst should come--through your kindness we have
now got the means of escape--all I’ll trouble you for is that you’ll
report me at Anjer and see if they can rake up some spare spars for me.
I don’t want to be detained there any longer than I can help.”
“Right you are,” replied the skipper; “I’ll see to it, and now with all
my best wishes I’ll bid you so-long and hope we shall meet all square
in Hong-Kong. You may be there as soon as I am, unless my coal takes it
into its head to combust spontaneously too.”
And off he went, having rendered the only assistance in his power.
But he could not help looking wistfully back as he regained his ship,
and feeling an overwhelming sympathy for that brave little crowd so
quietly doing their allotted duty under circumstances so difficult and
dangerous.
It is always pleasant to record success, and so I rejoice to say that
after eight days of the strong steady suasion of the kindly Trades
the look-out at the fore-topmast head of the _Sealark_ sighted Java
Head, and the next day the good ship crept quietly up to her anchorage
at Anjer, still seaworthy and mutely testifying to the faithfulness of
those in charge of her. She was immediately surrounded by a horde of
touts, all eager to share in the plunder of an unfortunate ship. Men to
whom the advent of a vessel in distress is a boon, a feast, an occasion
of great rejoicing, people who, however necessary, feed fat upon the
misfortunes of others, and whose rapacity knows no limit except the
impossibility of getting more.
Very few indeed are the ports of the world into which a ship can enter
in need without being immediately the prey of men like this, whose
only but all-sufficient excuse is, when they condescend to make any,
“that the underwriters can well afford to pay.” And indeed in these
days of scanty earnings and absence of perquisites, a skipper must
needs be made of stern stuff who can resist this, practically the only
opportunity he ever gets of “making a bit” by standing in with the gang
who are making a great deal.
They anchored without any incident worth recording, and, as soon as
ever she was well cleared up, the skipper chose his agent and demanded
a gang of labourers to investigate the condition of things below. Off
came the main hatches and up shot a dense cloud of smoke, steam, and
gas almost like the first ejection from the crater of a volcano. All
the Javanese fled aghast to the rail, prepared to dive overboard, and
gazed awestricken upon the open mouth of the ship from which she was
vomiting the elements she had endured so long.
[Illustration: THE JAVANESE FLED.]
But after an hour or two it became possible to get below and ascertain
the extent of the fire. And it was found that there was still an
immense heap of coal forward of the main hatch which had been as yet
untouched by the water, and which on being disturbed glowed fiercely.
The pump was at once brought into play, and amid blinding smoke and
suffocating gas the lively Javanese toiled manfully through a day and
night until it began to be evident that the fire was under control.
Meanwhile the water was pumped out of the lower hold, where there could
no longer be any danger of fire, since she had been practically flooded
up to her ’tween-deck beams for three weeks.
It would be sheer waste of words to say how anxious and worried Captain
Jenkins was all this time. His first command, surrounded by a gang of
foreign harpies who looked upon his ship as their legitimate prey,
but could not work their will upon her without his signature, the one
vestige of authority left to a captain in a foreign port where there
are no accredited agents, and, above all, his high desire to accomplish
his voyage, he, like any other man in a similar position, must demand
all our sympathies. His men, on the other hand, were quite happy. They
felt like conquerors who in the face of fearful odds had succeeded in
overcoming the most terrible forces of nature, and were now reaping the
rewards of victory.
Especially was this the case with Frank. He literally grew with the
occasion, felt proud of his ship, his shipmates, and himself with
a grand and legitimate pride, and yet went on learning in the great
business of re-rigging the ship and preparing her to resume her voyage.
This is no place to talk technicalities, or I would like to tell of the
stupendous labours of Mr. Jacks and the crew, all of whom were given
over to him to work aloft, while the mate superintended the work of the
coolies on deck and below.
Well, in the end the _Sealark_ regained her normal trim appearance
under the hands of Mr. Jacks and his hard-working crowd, and the
captain, chafing with impatience as day succeeded day and the prospect
of his leaving seemed as remote as ever, at last began to see a
possibility of getting to sea again, where he would be free of those
landsharks who made life a burden to him. It is of course impossible in
a book like this to give any detailed account of his adventures, every
day of which would furnish materials for a most exciting story, but I
may go so far as to give his conversation of a few minutes with Mr.
Cope when at last the ship was considered ready for sea.
“Cope, I’d rather face the cyclone again than deal for another day with
these fellows. They smother me, they make me doubt myself, make me feel
that whatever I want to be I am bound to become an infernal thief and
liar such as I am sure the majority of them are by choice. They are
like the villains I have met in London and Liverpool, ready to curse
or bless anybody and everybody for payment. Yet they have never lost
sight of anybody they had a down on, while it was safe they’d do their
best to ruin him, or her, it didn’t matter which, for their price could
always be paid and the payer passed at once from being an unspeakable
villain to an angel of truth and, especially, of financial rectitude.
I’m choking to get out to sea again, Cope. If I stay here much longer
I shall lose all faith in either God or man. It isn’t right that we
should fight the sea and winds as we do to conquer them only to become
the prey of a gang of beach-combers like these, for that’s what they
are, I don’t care what swagger names or offices they put up, they are
even less reputable than the pukka beach-comber.”
“Never mind, sir,” replied Cope, “you have fought the good fight.”
“At a price, my boy, at a price,” interjected the despondent skipper.
“Anyhow,” continued Cope, “we are all right again after as hard a time
as a man can have. The owners will have a nice letter to cheer you up
in Hong-Kong. But apart from all that, sir, what a good sturdy crowd
we’ve got, haven’t we? And those two lads, Frank and Johnson, they’ll
make splendid officers if they’ll only stick to it, I think they’re the
right stuff.”
“Yes, Cope, they’re good, I know, but I’m dead tired of the whole
thing, and wondering whether the game is really worth the candle or
not. I know I’m a bit out of sorts with all these bloodsuckers hanging
on to me; perhaps I’ll feel better when I get out on the clean sea
again. We’ll get under-weigh to-morrow morning at daylight, and before
any of this nest of liars and thieves are awake we’ll be well on our
way to where it’s clean. Good night.”
From all of which it may be inferred that alone among his whole crew
Captain Jenkins was despondent, unsatisfied, his victory having brought
him no joy. You can see why for yourself. Everybody else who had no
thought of financial details, and who when their work was done had
nothing else to think of until turn-to time again, was supremely happy.
Especially as within certain limits Captain Jenkins had ordered them a
free bumboat, that is, fruit and eggs and vegetables and soft-tack for
nothing.
And Frank had bought a monkey, a furry gentle thing black as Erebus,
but with a pathetic expression upon its furry flat face and in its
big eyes that touched him strangely. He had never had a pet before,
although often conscious of a strange need which he could not name.
It was time that need was supplied, for he was growing up curiously
unsympathetic, from the absence of anything or anybody whereon to
lavish the affection which is possessed by all of us, but in the
absence of the opportunities for its exercise almost certainly dies
away, leaving in its place a cold heartlessness and selfishness which
is dangerous. From this Jacko came just in time to save Frank, although
it must be confessed that his advent was not altogether an unmixed
blessing, seeing that his native predilection for mischief kept most of
Frank’s shipmates wondering what he would be up to next. But after all
he was a healthy stimulant to the activities of the crew, who, after
their late strenuous life, were in danger of stagnation.
By this I wish to convey that having got clear of Anjer the wind and
weather were so uniformly kind to them as to reduce the absolutely
necessary work to a minimum. The navigation of what we always call
the China Sea, meaning the Indian Archipelago, after passing through
either the Straits of Sunda or Malacca from the westward, is difficult
and dangerous, especially for a sailing ship, but the weather is often
perfection itself for a week at a time, and so it was now. True, the
ship was in a parlous state as regards cleanliness of paint, &c., but
her skipper being a just man, could not see the force of harassing his
boys with work that the first day of discharging cargo in Hong-Kong
would undo.
So all hands had a very easy time, only just doing enough simple tasks
to keep the devil out of their minds, as we say. This they all fully
recognised and accepted as their due, although, of course, nothing
was said upon the subject by anybody. And so the much-tried ship
with her doughty crew crept slowly northward through the tortuous
ways of the China seas, until one morning there rose before their
delighted eyes the towering mass of Victoria Peak, the culmination of
the British island of Hong-Kong. It was a triumphant sensation which
they experienced then, remembering all the struggle they had waged to
this end, followed by deep satisfaction as steering up towards Green
Island Pass they received on board the queer slant-eyed pilot, just one
hundred and fifty days from Cardiff Roads, a passage which under all
the circumstances might be looked upon as highly meritorious.