FAREWELL TO THE _XIPHIAS_
We left the _Xiphias_ in evil case as far as appearance went, but with
her brave crew still undaunted by the long series of misfortunes which
had now, as they thought, almost reached the culminating point in the
loss of their vessel and all of their lives. Perhaps a bitter pang did
stab some of their hearts as they realised that if the hurricane now
raging should succeed in its efforts to destroy them all, their fate
would never be known. That adds a new terror to death, for man loves
to think that his going hence is no mystery, and that its incidents
will be remembered to his credit by someone, if only for a little time.
But gradually hope grew stronger (they had never quite lost it) that
they might be saved, for the weather was, as always in the following
segment of a cyclone, growing perceptibly better, although the force of
the wind showed as yet no sign of lessening. Unfortunately, herein lay
their present danger; for the _Xiphias_ was leaking so badly, she had
evidently been strained to such an extent, that the sea, now rising and
tossing her about like a ball, bade fair to complete her destruction
after all. Therefore, encouraged by the skipper and Mr. Peck, who had
now of course assumed the position of chief officer, they all toiled
unremittingly at the pumps, even though the face of the carpenter as he
sounded the well every hour never lightened.
The struggle for life had been so fierce that when at last the awful
meteor had passed quite away, the sea had resumed its placid calm, and
all nature seemed through that tremendous convulsion to have renewed
its vigorous youth, the poor tired old ship was hardly able to rise
to the long, long swell that still came rolling majestically towards
her, extending from one horizon to the other. She just slowly wallowed
like a top that is ‘going to sleep’ and will presently lie dead. So
alarming was the outlook that Captain Hampden and a few of the more
weary of the men commenced to provision the boats in readiness to leave
the ship in case she foundered. One thing puzzled the fine old skipper,
though, and that was how, with nearly twelve feet of water in her, the
_Xiphias_ floated at all. And then suddenly, calling himself a fool, he
remembered all that oil below tightly bunged in stout casks, which in
their turn were well stowed and secured from floating adrift by ‘toms’
from the beams above them. Due to his own forethought, and yet he had
forgotten--could not realise why his ship had not, long ere this,
‘turned turtle’ and sunk.
Having realised it, he called all hands aft and explained the
circumstances to them; told them that they were only about three
hundred miles south of Mahé, in the Seychelles, which was the nearest
port where they could hope to find their needs supplied and whence
they could send news home that would arrive there within reasonable
time. Finally, he concluded his speech by saying: ‘Men, God hasn’t
forgotten us. We shall live, I feel sure. And I don’t believe He’s
forgotten our poor shipmates either. I feel almost certain that they
are still alive, and that in His own good time we shall see them
again. Carpenter, sound that well again.’ The order was obeyed amidst
breathless attention, and the cheer that went up when Chips announced,
‘Eleven-three, sir, just what it was an hour ago,’ could not have been
improved upon by the healthiest and most vigorous crew. Now every man
went on with his work soberly and in good heart, as if persuaded of
his perfect security, and the ship crawled daily nearer port, while,
although regular pumping continued, there was none of the energy of
despair in the work because it certainly was not needed. But at the
mastheads every eye while daylight lasted roamed around the great blank
circle unceasingly as untiringly, hoping against hope to see, not
whales, but some sign of the lost ones. In the foc’s’le the fellows
could talk of nothing else but Rube; and MacManus, who had been one
of those left on board, refused to be comforted. In fact, with the
emphasis of his warm-hearted, illogical race, he went so far as to say
that if Rube was lost he wouldn’t survive him, and that if even his
own father confessor dared to suggest to him that Rube was a heretic
instead of a blessed saint and martyr he would peril all his chances of
eternal salvation by committing a fierce, premeditated assault upon the
unworthy man.
All the patience possessed by this crew of good fellows was needed by
them now. For while their hope was strong again, it was sickeningly
deferred day after day by the lightness of the airs and the
sluggishness of the vessel. Besides, as often happens in such cases,
the leak, having unaccountably ceased to gain upon them, now began to
increase again, although very slowly. There is something appalling in
being on board ship under such conditions. Knowing the possibilities,
one cannot help expecting that presently the opening through which the
hungry water is forcing itself may widen out so extensively as to make
the sinking of the ship a matter of minutes. This feeling of dreadful
anticipation is, I am bound to say, not nearly so much warranted on
board a wooden ship as it is in an iron or steel vessel, where the
springing of a leak may mean the starting of one rivet in a row, which,
resenting the extra strain put upon them, promptly give up their hold,
and the great plate, gaping, admits the sea so fast that the hull sinks
like a bottle with the bottom knocked out.
However, all hands stuck manfully by their task, and on the twelfth day
from the ceasing of the hurricane they were rewarded by hearing from
the masthead the joyful shout of ‘Land-ho!’ It was early morning, but
so slow was the pace at which their vessel crawled towards this haven
of refuge that it was nightfall before they anchored in the beautiful
little bay of Mahé. And as the anchor rattled joyfully down, its
clangour reverberating among the hills, all hands felt deeply grateful,
and then very sad, as they thought of the brave fellows who had not
been permitted to reach port with them. Then the sails were quickly
furled and the decks cleared up, and a spell at the pumps was decided
upon by the skipper before allowing everybody to have a long night’s
rest. So after a good meal and smoke, the pumps were manned by three
gangs, who relieved one another at ten minutes’ intervals until nine
o’clock, by which time the water in the hold had been so much reduced
that, after consultation with the carpenter, the skipper decided
that except for an anchor watch of one seaman and a harpooner, all
hands might go below and remain until eight bells (eight o’clock) the
following morning.
When aroused, not only did they find a splendid assortment of fruit
alongside, but the anchor watch had been busy fishing, and the
appetising odour of fresh fish being cooked greeted their nostrils as
they came on deck. It was a happy breakfast party held forward that
morning. Sweet potatoes, fried fish, coffee, and soft bread, with
oranges and bananas to follow, made up a meal which, after their late
terrible experiences, seemed to them the richest banquet imaginable.
As soon as breakfast was over, their heavy task began. First of all,
they got under weigh, and worked the vessel in as near the shore as
possible. Then, having moored her head and stern, they commenced
operations by discharging her cargo, lowering the casks of oil into
the water and towing them to the beach, where they were laboriously
rolled up above high-water mark. Then, some lighters being hired, all
the provisions, movable furniture, clothing, &c., were also discharged,
the sails were unbent and sent ashore also, while the upper yards
were sent down and floated alongside. A great raft was made ready to
work upon, and then the vessel was hauled in as closely as she would
go in her now empty condition to the beach, the cutting falls secured
to the fore and main lower mastheads, and the two bower anchors laid
out shoreward. This heavy toil occupied four days. Then came Sunday,
when, comfortably housed in tents of their own rigging ashore, the
weary crew enjoyed a long luxurious day’s rest, helped by a very homely
service of thanksgiving conducted by the skipper.
On Monday the great work of repairing the ship’s bottom began by
attaching the cutting falls to the bower anchors, leading the
hauling parts ashore, and heaving the ship down upon her side until
her keel was exposed. It was then found that the leak was in the
garboard-strake, or the next plank to the keel, and manfully did the
carpenter, the cooper, and as many of the crew as could handle a tool,
attack the work of repair. Four days from sunrise to sunset were spent
in this labour, then, satisfied that all was right on the starboard
side, the skipper ordered the vessel to be turned round and the other
side hove out for the same treatment.
It is very wonderful to consider in how few words--in a sentence, for
instance, like the preceding one--can be described an enormous amount
of work. A whole chapter might easily be devoted to the elucidation
of the various processes necessary for the performance of this work
spoken of so baldly, but I am afraid it would be far from interesting.
Sufficient, perhaps, to say that these duties, involving so much
painful labour, and for so long a time, are now performed in dry docks
or on patent slips with a celerity and ease that, considering the bulk
and weight of modern ships, would be nothing short of miraculous to a
casual observer unversed in engineering feats.
Fortunately the men were all contented with as well as interested in
their work. They had grown to love the ship as they had the captain
and officers, and so each duty, however hard or unpleasant, was gaily
performed, and apparently without half the labour expended on similar
tasks by discontented men. At the expiration of a month from the time
of entering Mahé the ship was again ready for sea. ‘Tight as a bottle,’
said the proud carpenter, who had worked like any three men, and,
besides, had managed to teach much of his art to sailors (farmers most
of them a year ago), so that they were able to assist him, not merely
in sawing, hauling, or chopping, but in much more important detail
work. No man had given any trouble. Loafing natives or beachcomers of
doubtful nationality, skulking around for an opportunity to do mischief
by purveying a peculiarly vile brand of fire-water, were sternly warned
off the premises of the sailors--told to keep outside a certain area
set apart as the special grounds of the men of the _Xiphias_.
When the work was all done, the cargo reshipped, and the _Xiphias_
quite ready for sea, Captain Hampden called all hands aft, and said:
‘Men, I’m dredful proud of ye. Ye’ve take the last ounce out of
yourselves, you’ve never given me a minute’s uneasiness, and I don’t
know how to thank ye enough. But I got it in my head that as we are
all ready to sail to-morrow if need be, maybe yew’d some of yew like
a little run loose with some money of your own, and if so I feel that
yew’re all so worthy of trust that I ought to give yew the opportunity,
and I will--if yew want it. Ef not, I’ll gladly go with yew to a
regular picnic down to one of these beautiful outlying beaches. We’ll
take all our own provisions, we’ll cook them ourselves, every man
shall amuse himself just as he likes, fishing, rambling, swimming, or
what not, and we shall come aboard tired out with real enjoyment, but
happy and not a cent poorer in pocket or health. Now, all those in
favour of my scheme step forward--those that want to go by themselves
and spend their own money remain behind.’
All hands stepped forward but two harpooners. The prospect of such a
‘Sunday School outing,’ as one of them termed it, did not appeal to
them--they were men, not babies. So they went both of them together
in search of what they considered to be enjoyment, while Captain
Hampden and all hands, except the mate (Mr. Peck), the carpenter, and
steward, left the ship on their excursion, and spent a day of unalloyed
pleasure, happy as a lot of children let loose from school. And if
any old sailor turns up his nose at this I would like to ask him, as
an honest fellow, to tell me how much enjoyment he ever got prowling
about the purlieus of a great seaport from one dirty public-house
to another, always meeting the same kind of furtive-eyed loafer and
blatant female, and always pounced upon by these harpies with shouts of
welcome, changing into derisive curses as soon as they found he had no
more money to spend on them or to give them? I have no doubt but that
his answer would be that it was all sickening and exasperating in the
last degree, but as long as he knew of no other way in which to spend
his money and leisure, it was not his fault that he behaved as an utter
idiot.
But enough of this. The two malcontents returned in the morning sadly,
having had their enjoyment and looking fearfully the worse for it. No
one said anything to them about their experiences, and they did not
volunteer any information, but it was at least a fortnight before they
had regained their healthy appearance, and a much longer time before
they had lost a certain hanging of the head. This last was novel, and
would not have been the case, but that they had been practically alone
in their folly. And, perhaps, there was just a little of the Pharisee’s
attitude in their shipmates, who, having chosen to keep out of harm’s
way, were inclined to be inordinately proud of their virtue. It is this
which makes so many Christians offensive, makes them shunned by those
who are really penitent. They do not understand the Divine pity nor the
Divine humility, much less endeavour to practise them, and so repel
those whom they are professing to try and attract.
At noon that day the _Xiphias_ sailed short-handed by the loss of those
six fine men (for recruits were not to be obtained in Mahé), but well
equipped again for the voyage. She now carried seven boats--five in the
davits and two on the skids aft, and all repairs had been substantially
carried out. As soon as she was clear of the land and heading across
east for the archipelago, Captain Hampden called all hands aft, and in
their presence complimented the carpenter for his noble efforts and his
great skill. The Captain said that what he had done was truly above
all reward, but as a mark of his appreciation he had much pleasure in
handing Chips an order on the owners for $250 = £50. Chips turned brick
red, fidgeted, shuffled, and finally said, ‘Thankee, sir.’ More than
that he could not say--he was one of those doers who cannot talk. But
the men cheered him to the echo, and another kindly link in the chain
which bound all hands was forged.
That evening Captain Hampden communicated to his officers his plans. He
intended making a passage with all possible speed to the Bonins, hoping
there to pick up half-a-dozen good men, and then go on the Japan ground
for a season--it being then at the height of its fame. But, he said, he
was not without hope that on the way thither they might meet with some
whales, and be fortunate enough to obtain such an addition to their
stock as would repay them for their recent losses. All the officers
were in the best possible spirits. They felt that, depleted as the crew
was, if only favoured with opportunity they would all give the best
possible account of themselves, and each reiterated his firm belief
that this would yet be a most successful voyage. Then they separated
for the night.
At daylight in the morning the gladsome cry was again heard from the
crow’s-nest notifying the nearness of sperm-whales. And for the next
week they had a real, old-fashioned busy time. They killed four fine
large bulls, one of which was apparently very sick, and, besides,
so fat that each lance-thrust was almost like piercing a bladder
of lard. So peculiar was his lethargy that, in the absence of any
apparent reason for it in the shape of recent encounters with whalers,
the Captain decided upon an unusual examination of the body, which,
favoured by wonderfully fine weather and a smooth sea, Mr. Peck was
able to accomplish successfully. The search revealed an enormous mass
of ambergris, packed tightly in the lower bowel, and weighing over two
hundredweight. This alone at the lowest possible quotation of $5 an
ounce represented nearly $18,000, or about £3,500, more than the value
of the whole four whales put together, although in those days sperm oil
and spermaceti were easily worth $500 per ton to the ship.
All hands rejoiced exceedingly, feeling that the monetary loss of
their late disaster was well wiped out, and anticipating again a
most prosperous voyage. Heartened and encouraged thus, they worked
so splendidly that by the time they reached the Sunda Straits the
vessel was in her normal state of cleanliness and fitness for further
adventure. But none came along. They just glided quietly through
the straits, buying up with great delight the stores of fruit and
vegetables brought by the islanders, who could hardly believe their
good fortune. For most of the sailing ships that loiter through there
do not yield the canoe-men much profit--the trade is mostly barter,
an old shirt for a punnet of sweet potatoes, a pair of shoes for a
section bunch of bananas, &c. And the demand for monkeys, parrots,
musk-deer,&c., has greatly fallen off even in homeward bound ships.
The _Xiphias_’ crew, however, took all the fresh food that came along,
and got it a bargain, because they paid for it in silver dollars or
five-franc pieces, money current all over the islands of the Indian
Ocean from Madagascar to Singapore.
All the way along from Anjer to Luzon they coasted peacefully, keeping
wide-eyed watch for possible thieves--it would be using too big a word
to call them pirates--who, even to this day, are ever ready to pounce
upon a helpless craft and rifle her, incidentally killing her crew.
Our splendid sea-patrol, ever engaged in keeping the peace all round
the world, is specially busy in Eastern waters protecting the world’s
commerce from these polyglot marauders, and on the East Coast of Africa
in suppressing slavery. Yet for this truly beneficent work one never
hears a word of praise. All our sins, or even our supposed sins, are
remembered--not merely, I regret to say, on the Continent of Europe,
where we expect it to be so, but in the United States of America, and
all our good deeds are studiously ignored, or, worse still, distorted
into deep-dyed hypocritical designs upon some innocent people’s
independence. But I often wonder what would become of Eastern commerce
if the British Fleet in those seas were to be suddenly withdrawn.
One more piece of good fortune awaited the _Xiphias_ and her good
crew before getting clear of those mazy waters. It was just after
they had cleared the Molucca Passage, and were hauling up north for
the Bonins. About half an hour before sunset the fore crow’s-nest
reported something, he didn’t know what, but it was making a tremendous
commotion in the water away ahead about four or five miles. The vessel
being under full sail, and with a moderate breeze, nothing more could
be done but keep her as she was going, except that Captain Hampden
mounted up to the fore-topgallant yard with his glasses and succeeded
in noting a black object in the sea. No more disturbance was visible.
The sun went down, the quick tropical twilight faded into night, and
still the skipper kept his eyes fixed upon the spot. Then to his great
joy the moon rose--in that clear atmosphere shedding a flood of light
along the sea. Suddenly the skipper’s voice rang out of the darkness
above: ‘Lower away y’r boat, Mr. Peck, an’ keep her jest ez we’re
goin’. I think yew’ll find somethin’ worth havin’ jest ahead there. The
res’ of th’ hands shorten sail an’ heave ship to.’ ‘Aye, aye, sir,’
responded the cheery voice of the mate. And in about three minutes the
vessel was lying-to, the rattle of boat’s falls was heard, and the
faint glimmer of a lantern was seen as Mr. Peck sped away along the
lane of silver sheen spread by the moon on the surface of the quiet
waters. He was no sooner gone than the skipper reached the deck, and
immediately kept the ship away again after the boat. In half an hour
all hands were straining to get alongside the biggest whale any of
them had ever seen, slain apparently by one of his fellows, since his
jaw and part of his throat were completely torn away. Thus, without
any effort on their part, beyond realising the spoil, they had gained
a prize worth about $6,000; a sort of crumb flung to them out of the
boundless wealth of the sea.
And now, much to my sorrow, we must part company with Captain Hampden
and his crew. The further matters treated of in this history do not
concern him: he did not even hear of them till two years later. It
would be a pleasant task to tell of how he reached the Bonins in peace,
and found there the recruits he needed, also an indefinite rumour,
which gave him many anxious hours, of some men having been there in
the _Grampus_, who said they had been lost from his ship. For his own
peace of mind he was bound to put it down to one of those loosely
invented tales that ship-frequenters in foreign ports concoct in order
to get on fairly intimate speaking terms with shipmen; terms which,
skilfully manipulated, should result in profit to the tale-tellers.
Also of how, through the usual thrilling series of adventures
which always fell to the lot of a whaleship in those days out for
a three-years’ cruise to the uttermost parts of the sea, Captain
Hampden and his men passed unscathed bodily and exceedingly prosperous
financially, since the _Xiphias_ returned, having been absent three
years to the week, with almost the largest cargo ever brought from the
depths of the sea to New Bedford, or, indeed, any other port in New
England.
But that must not be. Our business now is with the _Grampus_, and to
her, however unwillingly, we must return, bidding the _Xiphias_ a long
farewell.