SALVAGE OPERATIONS
Thorough in all his undertakings, Captain Da Silva wasted no time after
the vessel was well moored in carrying out the purpose for which he had
visited this outlandish group of islands. Boats were at once lowered
and loaded with all the requisite material for erecting tents ashore.
Then while one party was sent to establish a temporary sanatorium on
a high part of the largest island, a place where the sweet unceasing
breeze should blow through the open doors of the tents, another party
was detailed to catch fish, tortoises (for here are to be found still
some of those most interesting survivals of a long-departed day, the
gigantic tortoise), and to collect unripe cocoanuts, one of the most
healthful of all foods as well as one of the pleasantest of drinks.
The preparations were rapidly completed--when Captain Da Silva was
around no one wasted time--the sick were transferred to the shore, and
in business-like fashion attended to, as far as a change of diet and
such primitive medicines as were available could be brought to bear
upon them. Priscilla, much to the skipper’s concern, apparently took no
interest in the proceedings at all. He was really alarmed to see how
automatically she behaved and how attenuated was her once bonny form.
He did _not_ want to lose her--would rather have lost all hands--though
he could not tell why. And therefore, having done all he could think
of for her, and consequently much more for the other sufferers than
he would otherwise have thought of doing, he turned from sheer need
of occupation to the ship again; and his energy was such that all his
innate power of command was needed to maintain discipline among his
own countrymen. The Portuguese, like the Italian, can and does work
for amazingly long periods at high pressure, always providing that the
incentive is sufficiently powerful. But always these two races would
rather loaf than work--would rather lie round in the sun and let the
world wag as it will than put their shoulders to any wheel whatever.
And they always make the severest task-masters, slave-drivers. There
must be a deep delight for a truly lazy man in the power of compelling
his fellows to stretch their sinews under his eye. Must be, because
one sees so much of it in journeying around the world--the measureless
content evidenced in the boss who lolls and shouts curses and commands
at the toilers below him, with a very real satisfaction in the
knowledge that any one of them would gladly trample his face into the
mud they work in if only the chance came.
Captain Da Silva, then, having arranged for his invalids
satisfactorily, and left the negro steward and one of his cronies to
guard his wife in her lonely tent, returned on board and entered upon
a furious campaign of scrubbing and disinfecting. His countrymen,
who were practically the whole working gang, seconded his efforts
splendidly, albeit with deep resentment, at first against him, but by
his clever manipulation, afterwards against all the whites on board.
‘Why should these fellows be lyin’ up ashore while better men were
doin’ the work?’ This with but little variation was the burden of
the Portuguese song, and by a skilfully dropped word at well-chosen
intervals Captain Da Silva fanned the incipient flames and made every
Dago understand that the _Grampus_ was a Dago ship from henceforth, and
that, although the American flag flew overhead, her American crew were
of no importance whatever. In spite of this satisfaction, however, the
Dagoes were very sore at being worked so hard, and it needed all the
great influence of the skipper’s master mind to prevent an outbreak. He
kept them at work so steadily, too, that they got little or no chance
to brood over their wrongs. The water in the casks below was started
and run off, fresh, sweet water being brought on board to re-fill;
and the newly emptied casks were all fresh scoured and fired within
before replenishing. An enormous supply of wood was obtained, mostly
drift-timber, for upon this little group of neglected islands the whorl
of many currents centres, bringing flotsam from immense distances. And
when nothing else was a-doing, the sick needed attention, and got it
too, although of a horribly rough and grudging kind.
At last the discontent ran so high that it may reasonably be doubted
whether even Captain Da Silva could have much longer held it in
check, but then with his usual extraordinary good fortune there came
a diversion that effectually settled all grumbling and put all hands
in high feather. A huge four-masted iron ship, grossly under-manned as
usual, came blundering up through the Mozambique Channel, bound for
Diego Garcia with coal. The parsimony of her owners had provided her
with but one chronometer, and her skipper was not only a poor man who
couldn’t afford one of his own, but he was withal so poorly educated
that he couldn’t have worked a lunar observation to save his life.
Thus it came to pass that one night during a heavy thunderstorm, when
the whole heavens were apparently draped with black velvet, he found
his vessel bumping upon the reefs, not heavily, for there was but
little wind or swell, but sufficiently forceful to make him feel that
his command was doomed. And ships like the _Warrior Queen_ are only
manned for the finest of fine weather--when trouble of any kind comes
they must needs trust to luck. Out of eighteen men in the forecastle,
four were sailors, and they were old, the rest were just unskilled
labourers, loafers, not worth their salt, whose one aim was to do as
little as possible, and take the maximum time over it. There were eight
apprentices, nice lads, each of whom had paid sixty guineas premium
for the privilege of doing men’s work, and were expected to learn how
intuitively, for no one ever showed them anything--no, not even how to
live decently in their den of the halfdeck. These boys were really the
backbone of the ship, for being all decently brought up young fellows
they had not yet learned the vicious root-idea which is sapping the
heart out of our workers--viz., that a man’s duty to himself is to
study how best he can get money without working for it, and that his
highest aim in life should be to give as little as possible in labour
for the wages he receives.
In consequence of this wretched condition of things on board there
was something very like a collapse of all the energies (not many at
the best of times) of the crew. According to the novelists who write
of the sea from the abyss of utter ignorance of sea conditions, the
crew should now have raided the ‘spirit-room’ (there isn’t such a
place in the great majority of merchant ships), and fearful scenes of
bloodshed and anarchy would have ensued. As a matter of fact, the whole
situation was peculiarly sordid and commonplace. There lay the great
cumbrous tank upon the reef, canted to one side in a shamefaced manner
as if acknowledging how much she owed to the sea for any gainliness
of outline she ever possessed. Listlessly the crew slouched about the
sloping decks, obeying such calls as were made upon them in a half or
quarter hearted fashion and casting wistful eyes upon the sandy shore.
They were a motley gang, and there was no prospect of immediate danger
to life, only to property--and that, they knew, didn’t matter a row of
pins to anybody: they had obtained sufficient smattering of insurance
problems to tell them that.
So that I think, apart from the disheartened condition of skipper and
officers, it will be seen that the _Warrior Queen_ was in evil case.
How evil may be imagined from the fact that not one of her company had
seen, far off on the other side of the little group, a trio of upright
trees with branches crossing them at right angles with extraordinary
regularity. When seamen neglect the obvious duty of looking around
for another ship things are bad indeed. It was so in this case, and
the first intimation that Captain Smith had of there being any help
at hand was the arrival alongside of a white double-ended boat with
five swarthy-looking men at the oars and a tall devilishly handsome
man erect in the stern. This boat rounded to under the _Warrior
Queen’s_ stern in grand style, and before the dreaming fellows on
board had realised that a visitor was coming Captain Da Silva had
swung himself on board by the mizen chains, and with light elastic
step had gained the side of Captain Smith on his broad quarter-deck.
‘Good morning, sir,’ said the new-comer. ‘G’ mornin’,’ sulkily replied
the merchantman, for even in his dire distress he had the quaint old
notion that he must show himself unapproachable in order to maintain
his dignity. Dignity, forsooth! It’s worth a great deal when a man
has to make a hog of himself to keep it in evidence. ‘Got a bit er
trouble here, Cap’n?’ said Da Silva. ‘Yaas,’ drawled Captain Smith;
‘I’m afraid she isn’t worth more ’n old iron price, if that. It’s a
bad job. Compasses wrong, y’ know.’ ‘Oh don’t say that,’ interjected
the Portuguese; ‘I’ve got a bully crowd o’ boys here all spoilin’ fer
a job. They’d ask nothin’ better than t’ git y’ afloat ag’in.’ ‘You
have--an’ where, may I ask?’ said Captain Smith haughtily. (You see,
his dignity needed conserving.) Captain Da Silva waved his hand airily
to where the _Grampus_ lay just discernible as a three-masted ship far
off to the southward. ‘Thet’s my ship,’ said he, ‘’n’ ef yer like t’
come t’ terms with me, I’ve a-got a gang aboard thar thet’d snake yew
eout of Purgatory itself. It’s only a matter of terms.’ ‘Come down
below, Cap’n,’ said the now thoroughly aroused Mr. Smith. ‘I want t’
talk to you.’ And as they descended the polished teak companion, he
laid his hand familiarly upon the swarthy visitor’s shoulder, saying
in a confidential tone: ‘I ’spose yew’re a wrecker of some kind, ain’t
you?’ ‘Me! oh, no, Captain. I’m jest a low-down whaling skipper, but
I got a crew of boys a-spilin’ fur somethin’ t’ do, and ef yew’ll only
say th’ word, an’ give me jes’ a leetle bill on yewr owners, I’ll bet
we’ll snake yewr ship eout o’ this in short order.’ By this time they
had reached the cosy saloon of the big ship, and Captain Smith had
summoned the steward to bring the whisky and cigars. Solemnly they
drank to each other, and then Captain Smith broached his latent idea.
His ship had run ashore through no fault of his. Couldn’t he arrange
for his new-found friend to take on a contract to get her off on the
‘no cure, no pay’ principle? Indeed he couldn’t. In Captain Da Silva
he had met a man as much his superior in business ability as he was
in seamanship, and that scheme did not work for a moment. Well, then,
couldn’t he arrange for a liberal payment to the salvors with an
equally liberal percentage to himself?--‘for,’ said he, ‘my pay is only
twelve pounds (sixty dollars) a month here.’ The Portuguese shook his
head decisively, as befitted a man who held the reins of the team.
‘Naow looky here, Cap’n Smith,’ drawled he, ‘I’ll tell you what I’ll
do. My best endeavours t’ git yewr ship offn thishyer reef--yew
givin’ me a bill on yewr owners fur 2,500 dollars t’ begin with, and
a note t’ th’ effect that if I git her off the pay’s double. As fur
pussentidges, I don’t know anything about ’em an’ don’t want. Ef yew
mean that I’m to share any of my earnin’s with yew--well, yew’re ’way
off, ’n’ thet’s all there is to it. Ther’ isn’t anythin’ o’ that kind
abaout _me_, young man, be sure o’ thet.’ And the two men sat and
looked hard at each other. Not for long. The odds were too great, and
with a heavy sigh Captain Smith went to his state-room producing paper
and pen, and wrote out the agreement and the bill on his owners. This
instrument, having been duly witnessed by the mate and steward, was
carefully read and signed by Captain Da Silva, who then pocketed it,
and springing to his feet declared himself ready to begin the carrying
out of his contract. The merchant skipper, not at all used to such
energetic proceedings, was taken ‘flat aback,’ as the sea saying has
it, but said nothing, and Captain Da Silva departed with big leaps up
the cuddy stairs. As soon as he reached the deck he shouted in a voice
of thunder: ‘My boat ready? _Grampus_ boat’s crew away!’ Then without
waiting for an answer he rushed to the gangway, and finding his men all
in their places (they had not dared to come on deck) he flung himself
over the side, and in one minute was on his way back to his ship,
standing erect in the stern and urging the toiling rowers with many
figures of profane speech to do better than their very best.
It was a long pull back to the _Grampus_, but not one of the rowers got
a spell until she was reached. Well was it for them that their training
had been so severe and thorough. And on reaching the side all hands
were summoned to prepare the ship for the most arduous task she had yet
undertaken. Sundry orders were given with reference to mooring-chains,
hawsers, kedges, &c., and while the crew fled about their tasks of
filling those orders, the Captain dived below and knitted his brow
over a calculation of the tides. He found (and it is noteworthy that
he was able to detach his mind from all else while he worked out this
important matter) that the ‘springs’ were due the following day at
noon. This important matter settled, he replaced his books and sprang
up the companion to the deck as if his life depended upon the ensuing
minutes being husbanded with the most jealous care.
A few short, volcanic orders, and the windlass was manned, the cable
came clattering in, and as soon as the anchor was ready to be broken
out the sails were set, and the _Grampus_, obedient to the master mind,
turned gently to the wind, while the few remaining links of cable were
hove in, and she passed out of the tortuous reef channel seaward. The
skipper stood by the helmsman, conning his vessel as if he had been
acquainted with the navigation of those intricate channels all his
life. It was only the usual whaler’s style, but to the ordinary seaman
it was nothing short of wonderful. The clumsy-looking old ship sidled
out to sea as if she knew what was required of her, and presently the
waiting men on board the _Warrior Queen_ were astonished to see a
short, thick-set, full-rigged ship come around the nearest point and
suddenly bring to with a kedge about two miles away, waiting apparently
for the word of command to do something totally unexpected. But there
was no time wasted. Two boats were lowered from the new-comer, each
double-banked, and under the pressure of foaming oars they ranged
alongside the big helpless hulk, their crews leaped on board headed by
the Captain, who immediately demanded that all hands should be called
and placed under his orders. There was a moment or so of hesitation on
the part of the English ship’s officers, but while they paused the new
comers had the hatches off and had rigged a couple of single whips over
each. Then as the original crew realised what was a-doing, they buckled
to manfully, and soon the coal was flying overboard in an almost
continuous stream. Something of Captain Da Silva’s superhuman energy
communicated itself to the crew of the _Warrior Queen_, for before
many minutes had elapsed they were toiling as fiercely as any of the
whaler’s men, and without in the least understanding why they should
thus do violence to their long-cherished leisureliness.
Through the thick haze of coal dust might have been seen Captain Da
Silva and a chosen little body of men fiercely engaged in unbending
the cables from the great anchors, getting up hawsers from below, and
overhauling the long-neglected boat gear. The big wire rope, intended
for towing purposes and therefore leading forward, was unwound and
passed aft on the starboard side, while on the port side a length
of cable was shackled on to the stoutest of the ship’s hawsers, and
ranged in readiness to be taken off when needed. Then Captain Da Silva,
getting into his boat, carefully sounded the reef to see whether the
_Warrior Queen_ had, as so often happens, found her way alone along
some special channel. He knew that many wrecks on coral reefs have done
just that, and afterwards, owing to superficial observation of the
surroundings, it has been taken for granted that some awful convulsion
of nature in the shape of an earthquake wave or something of the sort
must be held responsible for the vessel’s reaching so apparently
inaccessible a spot. After an absence of only an hour he returned,
having found the channel by which the ship had entered, and buoyed it
with sundry lengths of lead-line and ‘blackfish’ pokes, or bladders of
the small cetacean known to whalers by that trivial name. Just a few
minutes on board to see that the jettison of the coal was proceeding
with as much vigour as possible under the circumstances, and then off
again on board the _Grampus_. He caused her to be worked right into the
channel he had found, but stern first and as easily as a barge is taken
up a winding canal. Finally, when near enough for his liking, he had
two hawsers attached to his bow anchors, and the latter dropped in the
channel. These were veered away to their utmost length, which brought
the stern of the _Grampus_ near enough to the stern of the _Warrior
Queen_ to allow of the wire hawser and cable-bridled hawser being
secured to the former. When all these preparations were complete he
gave orders that all hands should rest so as to be capable of a supreme
effort next day at noon, it now being about 10 P.M., and some five
hundred tons of coal having been jettisoned.
After a good meal all round, the worn-out men went to their bunks--all
except Captain Da Silva, who, calling upon his particular boat’s crew,
started at midnight for the long and perilous pull back to the islet
where the sick were encamped. Threading the dangers of that terrible
group of reef-rocks and sandbanks apparently was mere amusement to him,
although at times it must have seemed to a novice as if nothing could
save the frail craft from being overwhelmed by the breaking of one of
those vast swells over the jagged surface of a fringing reef, through
one of whose openings they were passing. But this extraordinary man
seemed to bear a charmed life, and, without shipping a drop of water
even, the boat arrived at the camp in three hours from the time of
leaving the _Warrior Queen_. Noiselessly she grounded on the smooth
sand, light as a fawn the skipper sprang out, and in a few minutes had
peered in at both tents and seen that all was silent as the grave, at
which peaceful termination to his investigations he was apparently
much annoyed. Returning to the boat, he caused an impromptu shelter
to be rigged up by turning her over and spreading the sail over the
upraised gunwale, and, creeping in under with his satellites, all were
soon sound asleep; not, however, before a huge black bottle had been
impartially passed round.
At daylight the skipper awoke and went to visit his sick, finding,
to his great satisfaction, that several of them were sufficiently
recovered to be brought on board--they could do something, if it was
only holding on the hawsers abaft the windlass. To Priscilla he said
nothing--he stood looking at her doubtfully for a few minutes, while
she endured his gaze as if unconscious of it. Then he turned on his
heel and departed, and in a few minutes the trembling steward reported
to her that ‘de Cappen, he make’n dem boat’s crew pull fur sixty sure,
ma’m; dat boat jes’ a-flyin’.’
He was back at the scene of salvage operations by ten o’clock, and
found, as he had expected, that all hands were loafing about, waiting
for him to come and tell them what to do. But he said nothing about
that, only gave orders for all square sail to be loosed on both vessels
and set with as little delay as possible. For there was the usual sea
breeze setting in, at no great rate it is true, but with every promise
of being much stronger by noon. And it blew right fair for the channel,
along which, if in any direction at all, the _Warrior Queen_ must go.
Nearer and nearer drew the critical moment, the tide rising rapidly.
All hands were ordered to their stations, the _Warrior Queen’s_ crew
being, with the exception of just sufficient to trim her yards in case
of necessity, all on board the _Grampus_ at the windlass. The breeze
freshened as the tide rose, and a few minutes before noon Captain Da
Silva gave orders for all his reinforced crew to heave away at the
windlass for dear life. The powerful leverage of that great spread of
canvas on both ships, aided by the strain on the hawsers applied at
just the right time, gradually made itself manifest. The vast bulk of
the _Warrior Queen_ slowly rolled, shuddered, slipped, and with a long
grinding groan she moved. Frantic yells arose from the windlass-men on
board of the _Grampus_. They felt the weight yielding, and forgetting
the danger of breaking the old-fashioned machine they were trying so
hardly, redoubled their efforts.
Slowly, majestically, the big ship glided seaward, steered by the mate
in response to the desperate signals made from the whaler, where the
skipper was now in an almost insane state of excitement lest some fool
should, at the last minute, spoil all his work. But no; gently the
whaler increased her speed, followed clumsily by her tow, until, at
1.30 the rescued merchantman was able to turn and pursue her way alone.
Before she did so, however, Captain Da Silva, having anchored his ship,
hastened on board the saved vessel, and, shaking hands warmly with
Captain Smith, bade him ‘so long,’ saying to himself as he did so: ‘I
guess yew want somebody to dry-nurse yew mighty bad. Don’t matter to
me, though. Five thousand dollars ain’t half a bad day’s pay, an’ I
guess I’ll snake it in soon ’s ever I git t’ port. He ain’t a bit t’ be
’pended ’pon, thet man.’
And, leaving the big ship to pursue her journey, the energetic rascal
returned on board his own vessel, got under weigh and hastened back to
his former anchorage, fully determined to get the rest of his ailing
men on board, fit or not, and leave next day for sea. He reached the
camp at sunset, anchored, and went ashore, finding that his wife was
well on the way to complete recovery, and the rest of the poor fellows
doing very well. So without any further delay, he caused the camp to
be broken up, the invalids brought on board, and everything got in
readiness for departure the following day.