I went to Australia to go into hospital and get tinkered up, after which
I planned to go on with the voyage. And during the long weeks I lay in
hospital, from the first day I never missed alcohol. I never thought
about it. I knew I should have it again when I was on my feet. But when
I regained my feet I was not cured of my major afflictions. Naaman's
silvery skin was still mine. The mysterious sun-sickness, which the
experts of Australia could not fathom, still ripped and tore my tissues.
Malaria still festered in me and put me on my back in shivering delirium
at the most unexpected moments, compelling me to cancel a double lecture
tour which had been arranged.
So I abandoned the Snark voyage and sought a cooler climate. The day I
came out of hospital I took up drinking again as a matter of course. I
drank wine at meals. I drank cocktails before meals. I drank Scotch
highballs when anybody I chanced to be with was drinking them. I was so
thoroughly the master of John Barleycorn I could take up with him or let
go of him whenever I pleased, just as I had done all my life.
After a time, for cooler climate, I went down to southermost Tasmania in
forty-three South. And I found myself in a place where there was nothing
to drink. It didn't mean anything. I didn't drink. It was no hardship.
I soaked in the cool air, rode horseback, and did my thousand words a day
save when the fever shock came in the morning.
And for fear that the idea may still lurk in some minds that my preceding
years of drinking were the cause of my disabilities, I here point out
that my Japanese cabin boy, Nakata, still with me, was rotten with fever,
as was Charmian, who in addition was in the slough of a tropical
neurasthenia that required several years of temperate climates to cure,
and that neither she nor Nakata drank or ever had drunk.
When I returned to Hobart Town, where drink was obtainable, I drank as of
old. The same when I arrived back in Australia. On the contrary, when I
sailed from Australia on a tramp steamer commanded by an abstemious
captain, I took no drink along, and had no drink for the forty-three
days' passage. Arrived in Ecuador, squarely under the equatorial sun,
where the humans were dying of yellow fever, smallpox, and the plague, I
promptly drank again--every drink of every sort that had a kick in it. I
caught none of these diseases. Neither did Charmian nor Nakata who did
not drink.
Enamoured of the tropics, despite the damage done me, I stopped in
various places, and was a long while getting back to the splendid,
temperate climate of California. I did my thousand words a day,
travelling or stopping over, suffered my last faint fever shock, saw my
silvery skin vanish and my sun-torn tissues healthily knit again, and
drank as a broad-shouldered chesty man may drink.