ACAPULCO--ANOTHER YARN FROM BLUEFISH.
After a delay of a week or more with our friends at Santa Barbara we
weighed anchor one bright morning in the middle of January and started
southward for Acapulco, intending to pick up what prizes might chance to
cross our path on the way thither.
But our passage southward was scarcely broken by a single event so
important as the capture of a British trader. We had splendid weather
all the way down.
When off Cape St. Lucas I for the first time witnessed that phenomenon
of the desert and of the ocean which is denominated a mirage. It
happened just about an hour before sunset. The day had been
characterized by a peculiar kind of haze ever since noon. This silvery
haze or vapor completely banked the western horizon, and was smitten by
the beams of the descending sun into many beautiful hues, when--about
the time before mentioned--the lookout suddenly sung out:
"A sail on the larboard bow!" then again in a few seconds:
"A sail on the starboard bow!"
At last he sung out in a tone of amazement:
"Sails all around the ships!"
This was true enough, but they were visionary sails, not on the ocean,
but high up in the misty air, and probably belonging to those vessels
which came to the poet in his visions, when he
"Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails,
Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales;
Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rained a ghastly dew
From the nations' airy navies grappling in the central blue."
Some of these visionary vessels were very distinctly seen, with men on
their decks and flags flying, but, as the apparitions were colorless, of
course, the character of the airy flags could not be determined. We were
almost becalmed while we were the witnesses of this strange phenomenon,
and we had an hour or so to observe it in. But, as the night began to
fall, an easterly gale sprung up, and, in a few moments, our "airy
navies" vanished away.
We arrived at Acapulco, after a prosperous voyage of only a few days'
duration, and remained there two days.
Acapulco was much then as it is now. It is a very solidly-built place,
resembling Panama in this, and is possessed of more than one handsome
ecclesiastical building. The bay of Acapulco is one of the finest in the
world--by far _the_ finest in America. It is well sheltered, is
capacious, deep and excellent in every respect. The region around
Acapulco equals any in Mexico in point of fertility. Almost every
tropical fruit flourishes profusely, and most of us were down somewhat
with dysentery, through indulging too freely.
Our ship was surrounded most of the time while in port by natives, most
of them children, who almost live in the water. Probably no people in
the world--except, perhaps, the natives of the South Sea Islands--are
so much at home in the water as these Mexicans of the Southwest Coast.
They would swim and dance in the water around us by the hour, begging to
have some one toss a shilling to them. I have repeatedly tossed a small
silver coin overboard into the sea, when one of these children of the
waters would dive like a fish, catch the coveted coin before it reached
a depth of many fathoms, return to the surface, display it triumphantly,
and then put it in his mouth for safe-keeping and clamor for some one to
try him again with a similar bribe.
The people are very ignorant, contented and happy. They have few or no
cares to distract their attention. Their wherewithal of subsistance
grows on the trees above their heads; and for clothing--they wear so
little that it can hardly be taken into account as an item of expense.
We intended to sail from Acapulco on a certain day in the latter part of
January, but a severe storm sprung up in the afternoon which made it
much more prudent to lie for a while longer under the shelter of the
excellent harborage in which we were. Nevertheless all hands were got
aboard ship and everything put in readiness for a start on the morrow,
wind and weather permitting.
It was on this evening, when a number of us were merrily gathered round
our table in the forecastle discussing our grog and pipes, that old
Bluefish, upon earnest solicitation, spun us one of his exceedingly
improbable yarns.
Clearing his throat with a long pull at his glass of rum, and lighting a
fresh pipe, he commenced his yarn of
THE PHANTOM SHIP.
"P'r'aps most on yer," said he, "has hearn tell on the Phantom Ship, but
I'll bet my old boots ag'in' a new tarpaulin and westcut that none on
yer ever was aboard o' that craft, as my mother's son was, in the person
of myself. Howsomedever that is neither this way nor that, for I must
pick up the eend of my yarn at a shorter beginning.
"It happened all along o' the schooner Jolly Admiral. I was a cabin-boy
on her. We had been to Hong Kong for a load o' tea and was somewhar
atwixt Bombay and the Cape of Good Hope on a bright moonlight night in
the month of June when we first see'd the Phantom Ship. We didn't know
her true character until we came within a quarter of a mile of her and
saw her flimsy, threadbare canvas and the devil's blue-lights burning on
her bowsprit and after-jib. We could see the captain and the crew going
about on her in a ghostly sort of way. They all looked very melancholy
and didn't pay any attention to us whatsoever.
"We could hear their voices, too, and jist let me tell yer, if you had
heard them 'ere voices you wouldn't want to do it ag'in in a hurry.
Well, all of a sudden, although there warn't no breeze to speak of, the
sails of the Phantom Ship bellied out, and away she scudded to the
southward like a streak of blue thunder stuffed with lightning, leaving
us jist nowhars at all.
"We was somewhat taken aback, but not so much surprised nuther, for, yer
see, we had been made acquainted with the fact that them 'ere seas was
particularly haunted by the devil's craft, and we was, therefore, sort
of prepared for meeting her. But somehow, as soon as the critters faded
away from our sight I jist whispers to myself, 'If ever I gits the
chance I'm going to board that 'ere craft, or I ain't a Bluefish, but
only a blarsted mackerel.'
"It warn't long afore I had the chance. Only two nights arter the one
aforesaid, the sea was swept by one of them 'ere orful hurricanes or
simooms as is nat'ral to them parts. Although we was pretty well
prepared to meet it, the darned thing struck us so suddenly that we was
almost throwed on our beam-eends. The night grew as black as pitch. You
couldn't 'a'see'd your hand afore your face if you was as white as a
snowdrift. I never see'd, afore or since, sich orful waves. You'd go
down inter the hollers of 'em and think you'd never come up ag'in. And
the wind--well, it's no use tryin' to describe one o' them 'ere simooms.
Suffice ter say that it lifted us clean out of the sea more than once,
and sometimes carried us, like a Mother Carey's chicken, for a mile or
two over the waves, without our keel touchin' a single crest."
"Is this story true?" I here interposed, with a solemn voice, quite
aghast at the imagination of the old salt.
"In course it is, yer lubberly son of a sea-cook! Does yer suppose a
cove as old as I be would tell yer anything as wasn't right-down
genuine?
"As I was a-sayin', the force of the wind was orful. Howsomdever, we had
as jolly a little craft as ever cut blue water, and we weathered it
bravely. Sometimes, when the wind would sort of sink away a little, we
would drive right through the big waves, until even our main-tops were
all under water; but, as our hatches were clewed down and our deck was
pretty tight, we allers came out of our bath as fresh as ever. Then the
gale would start up again, and away we would go over the tops of the
waves.
"It was on one of these occasions that our lookout sung out, 'Lights on
the starboard bow!' In course, we was all curious enough at first; but,
jist as we rose up on a big crest, what should we see but the Phantom
Ship, holdin' right across our course, and we jist ready to run inter
her larboard bulwarks with the next pitch we made. She had all her blue
lights burnin', and there was a sort of yaller haze all around her.
Notwithstandin' we was under bare poles, and found it hard work to keep
from bein' blown skywards at that, the stranger had every stitch of
canvas spread, and didn't seem to suffer anywise nuther. We hadn't time
to make many observations, howsomdever, before we struck the cussed
thing right in her side, and began to shoot through her, jist as if she
was made of smoke. I was standin' in the bows of the Jolly Admiral at
the time. 'Now or never!' I sings out to myself; and, simultaneous, I
made a jump and caught the ratlin's of the stranger, while the Jolly
Admiral passed on her way and left me swingin' like a pendulum in the
air.
"I fell down on the deck of the stranger, but immejiately resumed my
legs and took a survey of things in gineral. All the crew moped about
the deck, attendin' to their duties, while the captain bellered out his
orders through a trumpet made of condensed wind, lined with p'izen and
streaks of lightning.
"At first none on 'em paid any attention to me. But at last the first
mate--an orful-lookin' cuss--came right up to me, grabbed me by the
gullet, and dragged me to the quarter-deck, and stood me up afore the
skipper of the Phantom Ship.
"'Here, Cap,' says he, 'is a little cuss of a cabin-boy, as was left
behind by that infernal craft as jist ran through us.'
"(I forgot to mention as how the hole, which the Jolly Admiral made in
passin' through the stranger, healed itself up ag'in in the most
supernatural way in the world.)
"Well, the phantom skipper looked at me a moment without sayin' a word,
even so much as a civil 'How d'ye do?' He was the orfulest-lookin' cuss
it was ever my fortin' to stumble across. His flippers were those of a
skeleton, and his head was a reg'lar death's head, with eyes as burned
like two coals of fire, while a pair o' cross bones was suspended across
his bosom. I suppose they was some sort o' medals given the cuss on
account o' meritorious conduct. At length the critter spoke to me, an'
his voice was orful strange. You could hear it very distinctly, but it
sort o' seemed to come from a long ways off, jist like the voice of a
speerit.
"'What's the name o' that 'ere ship what jist ran through us?' says he,
in a melancholy way.
"'Please yer Honor,' says I, respectfully touchin' my cap, 'it warn't a
ship, but a schooner--the Jolly Admiral of New Bedford.'
"'Ha, boy,' says he, 'dostest thou dare to banter me with thy jokes.
Howsomdever, what's your name?'
"'Bluefish,' says I.
"'The son of old Sol Bluefish of Nantucket, the man as was hanged?' says
he.
"'The same,' says I.
"'Ha! is it indeed so?' he ejaculated, leanin' his chin on his breast,
in a meditatin' mood. 'He was a nice man,' he added; 'he was also a
particular friend o' mine.'
"'Allow me to take your flipper,' says I, puttin' on a free-and-easy
air. 'It allers gives me a vast amount of pleasure to meet any one as
was on good terms with the old man.'
"With that, I grabbed him by the bony hand, but immediately let the
thing drop like a piece of a thunderbolt, for it burned like a coal of
fire. He contemplated me with an affectionate smile.
"'Yes,' said he, 'I knowed the old man well. And how's your mother? Do
you know,' says he, 'I came mighty near marryin' that gal once myself?'
"'God forbid!' says I, with a unconscious shudder.
"When I said these 'ere words, the skipper's knees trembled, and he
almost fainted away.
"'Young man,' says he, slowly recoverin' himself, 'be very careful how
you utters the name o' that individual on this 'ere ship, or we'll all
be knocked into the middle of kingdom come. Tell me,' says he, 'what was
your object in boardin' this 'ere craft?'
"'I was jist sort o' curious ter see about the state of yer health,'
says I. 'And now, if its all the same to you, suppose you put me
ashore.'
"'Thou hastest thy wish, my son,' says he, in a kindly voice. And with
that he taps me gently over the head with that 'ere trumpet of his, and
I immediately sunk inter a deep state of non-sensibility.
"When I woke, I found myself sleeping quietly in my hammock on board the
Jolly Admiral, and when I tells my story, all on 'em laughs at me, and
even denies that there was any Phantom Ship at all.
"But, in course, that didn't make no difference to me, since it was all
true."
"It was a dream," suggested Tony Trybrace.
"Certainly," said I.
"Avast, yer lubbers! Doesn't I know as what I knows?"
And with this conclusive argument, Bluefish "turned in."