WITHIN THE TROPICS.
INCREASE OF TEMPERATURE--FLYING FISH--THE MORNING BATH ON
BOARD--PAYING "FOOTINGS"--THE MAJOR'S WONDERFUL STORIES--ST. PATRICK'S
DAY--GRAMPUSES--A SHIP IN SIGHT--THE 'LORD RAGLAN'--RAIN-FALL IN THE
TROPICS--TROPICAL SUNSETS--THE YANKEE WHALER.
_17th March_.--We are now fairly within the tropics. The heat
increases day by day. This morning, at eight, the temperature was 87 deg.
in my cabin. At midday, with the sun nearly overhead, it is really
hot. The sky is of a cloudless azure, with a hazy appearance towards
the horizon. The sea is blue, dark, deep blue--and calm.
Now we see plenty of flying-fish. Whole shoals of the glittering
little things glide along in the air, skimming the tops of the waves.
They rise to escape their pursuers, the bonitos, which rush after
them, showing their noses above the water now and then. But the poor
flying-fish have their enemies above the waters as well as under them;
for they no sooner rise than they risk becoming the prey of the ocean
birds, which are always hovering about and ready to pounce upon them.
It is a case of "out of the frying-pan into the fire." They fly
further than I thought they could. I saw one of them to-day fly at
least sixty yards, and sometimes they mount so high as to reach the
poop, some fifteen feet from the surface of the water.
One of the most pleasant events of the day is the morning bath on
board. You must remember the latitude we are in. We are passing along,
though not in sight of, that part of the African coast where a
necklace is considered full dress. We sympathise with the natives, for
we find clothes becoming intolerable; hence our enjoyment of the
morning bath, which consists in getting into a large tub on board and
being pumped upon by the hose. Pity that one cannot have it later, as
it leaves such a long interval between bath and breakfast; but it
freshens one up wonderfully, and is an extremely pleasant operation. I
only wish that the tub were twenty times as large, and the hose twice
as strong.
The wind continues in our favour, though gradually subsiding. During
the last two days we have run over 200 miles each day; but the captain
says that by the time we reach the Line the wind will have completely
died away. To catch a little of the breeze, I go up the rigging to the
top. Two sailors came up mysteriously, one on each side of the
ratlines. They are terrible fellows for making one pay "footings," and
their object was to intercept my retreat downwards. When they reached
me, I tried to resist; but it was of no use. I must be tied to the
rigging unless I promised the customary bottle of rum; so I gave in
with a good grace, and was thenceforward free to take an airing
aloft.
The amusements on deck do not vary much. Quoits, cards, reading, and
talking, and sometimes a game of romps, such as "Walk, my lady, walk!"
We have tried to form a committee, with a view to getting up some
Penny Reading or theatrical entertainment, and to ascertain whether
there be any latent talent aboard; but the heat occasions such a
languor as to be very unfavourable for work, and the committee lay
upon their oars, doing nothing.
One of our principal sources of amusement is the Major. He is
unfailing. His drawings of the long bow are as good as a theatrical
entertainment. If any one tells a story of something wonderful, he at
once "caps it," as they say in Yorkshire, by something still more
wonderful. One of the passengers, who had been at Calcutta, speaking
of the heat there, said it was so great as to make the pitch run out
of the ship's sides. "Bah!" said the Major, "that is nothing to what
it is in Ceylon; there the heat is so great as to melt the soldiers'
buttons off on parade, and then their jackets all get loose."
It seems that to-day (the 17th) is St. Patrick's Day. This the Major,
who is an Irishman, discovered only late in the evening, when he
declared he would have "given a fiver" if he had only known it in the
morning. But, to make up for lost time, he called out forthwith,
"Steward! whisky!" and he disposed of some seven or eight glasses in
the saloon before the lamps were put out; after which he adjourned to
one of the cabins, and there continued the celebration of St.
Patrick's Day until about two o'clock in the morning. On getting up
rather late, he said to himself, loud enough for me to overhear in my
cabin, "Well, George, my boy, you've done your duty to St. Patrick;
but he's left you a horrible bad headache!" And no wonder.
At last there is a promised novelty on board. Some original Christy's
Minstrels are in rehearsal, and the Theatrical Committee are looking
up amateurs for a farce. Readings from Dickens are also spoken of. An
occasional whale is seen blowing in the distance, and many grampuses
come rolling about the ship,--most inelegant brutes, some three or
four times the size of a porpoise. Each in turn comes up, throws
himself round on the top of the sea, exposing nearly half his body,
and then rolls off again.
To-day (the 20th March) we caught our first fish from the
forecastle,--a bonito, weighing about seven pounds. Its colour was
beautifully variegated: on the back dark blue, with a streak of light
blue silver on either side, and the belly silvery white. These fish
are usually caught from the jiboom and the martingale, as they play
about the bows of the ship. The only bait is a piece of white rag,
which is bobbed upon the surface of the water to imitate a
flying-fish.
But what interests us more than anything else at present is the
discovery of some homeward-bound ship, by which to despatch our
letters to friends at home. The captain tells us that we are now
almost directly in the track of vessels making for England from the
south; and that if we do not sight one in the course of a day or two,
we may not have the chance of seeing another until we are far on our
way south--if it all. We are, therefore, anxiously waiting for the
signal of a ship in sight; and, in the hope that one may appear, we
are all busily engaged in the saloon giving the finishing touches to
our home letters.
Shortly after lunch the word was given that no less than three ships
were in sight. Immense excitement on board! Everybody turned up on
deck. Passengers who had never been seen since leaving Plymouth, now
made their appearance to look out for the ships. One of them was a
steamer, recognizable by the line of smoke on the horizon, supposed to
be the West India mail-boat; another was outward-bound, like
ourselves; and the third was the homeward-bound ship for which we were
all on the look-out. She lay right across our bows, but was still a
long way off. As we neared her, betting began among the passengers,
led by the Major, as to whether she would take letters or not. The
scene became quite exciting. The captain ordered all who had letters
to be in readiness. I had been scribbling my very hardest ever since
the ships came in sight, and now I closed my letter and sealed it up.
Would the ship take our letters? Yes! She is an English ship, with an
English flag at her peak; and she signals for newspapers, preserved
milk, soap, and a doctor!
I petitioned for leave to accompany the doctor, and, to my great
delight, was allowed to do so. The wind had nearly gone quite down,
and only came in occasional slight gusts. The sea was, therefore,
comparatively calm, with only a long, slow swell; yet, even though
calm, there is some little difficulty in getting down into a boat in
mid-ocean. At one moment the boat is close under you, and at the next
she is some four yards down, and many feet apart from the side of the
ship; you have, therefore, to be prompt in seizing an opportunity, and
springing on board just at the right moment.
As we moved away from the 'Yorkshire,' with a good bundle of
newspapers and the other articles signalled for, and looked back upon
our ship, she really looked a grand object on the waters. The sun
shone full upon her majestic hull, her bright copper now and then
showing as she slowly rose and sank on the long swell. Above all were
her towers of white canvas, standing out in relief against the
leaden-coloured sky. Altogether, I don't think I have ever seen a more
magnificent sight. As we parted from the ship, the hundred or more
people on board gave us a ringing cheer.
Our men now pulled with a will towards the still-distant ship. As we
neared her, we observed that she must have encountered very heavy
weather, as part of her foremast and mainmast had been carried away.
Her sides looked dirty and worn, and all her ironwork was rusty, as if
she had been a long time at sea. She proved to be the 'Lord Raglan,'
of about 800 tons, bound from Bankok, in Siam, to Yarmouth.
The captain was delighted to see us, and gave us a most cordial
welcome. He was really a very nice fellow, and was kindness itself.
He took us down to his cabin, and treated us to Chinese beer and
cigars. The place was cheerful and comfortable-looking, and fitted up
with Indian and Chinese curiosities; yet I could scarcely reconcile
myself to living there. There was a dreadful fusty smell about, which,
I am told, is peculiar to Indian and Chinese ships. The vessel was
laden with rice, and the fusty heat which came up from below was
something awful.
The 'Lord Raglan' had been nearly two years from London. She had run
from London to Hong-Kong, and had since been engaged in trading
between there and Siam. She was now eighty-three days from Bankok. In
this voyage she had encountered some very heavy weather, in which she
had sprung her foremast, which was now spliced up all round. What
struck me was the lightness of her spars and the smallness of her
sails, compared with ours. Although her mainmast is as tall, it is not
so thick as our mizen, and her spars are very slender above the first
top. Yet the 'Raglan,' in her best days, used to be one of the crack
Melbourne clipper ships.
The kindly-natured captain was most loth to let us go. It was almost
distressing to see the expedients he adopted to keep us with him for a
few minutes longer. But it was fast growing dusk, and in the tropics
it darkens almost suddenly; so we were at last obliged to tear
ourselves away, and leave him with his soap, milk, and newspapers. He,
on his part, sent by us a twenty-pound chest of tea, as a present for
the chief mate (who was with us) and the captain. As we left the
ship's side we gave the master and crew of the 'Raglan' a hearty
"three times three." All this while the two vessels had been lying
nearly becalmed, so that we had not a very long pull before we were
safely back on board our ship.
For about five days we lie nearly idle, making very little progress,
almost on the Line. The trade-winds have entirely left us. The heat is
tremendous--130 deg. in the sun; and at midday, when the sun is right
overhead, it is difficult to keep the deck. Towards evening the
coolness is very pleasant; and when rain falls, as it can only fall in
the tropics, we rush out to enjoy the bath. We assume the thinnest of
_bizarre_ costumes, and stand still under the torrent, or vary the
pleasure by emptying buckets over each other.
We are now in lat. 0 deg. 22', close upon the Equator. Though our sails
are set, we are not sailing, but only floating: indeed, we seem to be
drifting. On looking round the horizon, I count no fewer than sixteen
ships in sight, all in the same plight as ourselves. We are drawn
together by an under-current or eddy, though scarcely a breath of wind
is stirring. We did not, however, speak any of the ships, most of them
being comparatively distant.
We cross the Line about 8 P.M. on the twentieth day from Plymouth. We
have certainly had a very fine run thus far, slow though our progress
now is, for we are only going at the rate of about a mile an hour; but
when we have got a little further south, we expect to get out of the
tropical calms and catch the southeast trade-winds.
On the day following, the 24th March, a breeze sprang up, and we made
a run of 187 miles. We have now passed the greatest heat, and shortly
expect cooler weather. Our spirits rise with the breeze, and we again
begin to think of getting up some entertainments on board; for, though
we have run some 4,800 miles from Plymouth, we have still some fifty
days before us ere we expect to see Melbourne.
One thing that strikes me much is the magnificence of the tropical
sunsets. The clouds assume all sorts of fantastic shapes, and appear
more solid and clearly defined than I have ever seen before. Towards
evening they seem to float in colour--purple, pink, red, and yellow
alternately--while the sky near the setting sun seems of a beautiful
green, gradually melting into the blue sky above. The great clouds on
the horizon look like mountains tipped with gold and fiery red. One of
these sunsets was a wonderful sight. The sun went down into the sea
between two enormous clouds--the only ones to be seen--and they blazed
with the brilliant colours I have described, which were constantly
changing, until the clouds stood out in dark relief against the still
delicately-tinted sky. I got up frequently to see the sun rise, but in
the tropics it is not nearly so fine at its rising as at its setting.
A ship was announced as being in sight, with a signal flying to speak
with us. We were sailing along under a favourable breeze, but our
captain put the ship about and waited for the stranger. It proved to
be a Yankee whaler. When the captain came on board, he said "he
guessed he only wanted newspapers." Our skipper was in a "roaring wax"
at being stopped in his course for such a trivial matter, but he said
nothing. The whaler had been out four years, and her last port was
Honolulu in the Sandwich Islands. The Yankee captain, amongst other
things, wanted to know if Grant was President, and if the 'Alabama'
question was settled; he was interested in the latter question, as the
'Alabama' had burnt one of his ships. He did not seem very comfortable
while on board, and when he had got his papers he took his leave. I
could not help admiring the whale-boat in which he was rowed back to
his own vessel. It was a beautiful little thing, though dirty; but, it
had doubtless seen much service. It was exquisitely modelled, and the
two seamen in the little craft handled it to perfection. How they
contrived to stand up in it quite steady, while the boat, sometimes
apparently half out of the water, kept rising and falling on the long
ocean-swell, seemed to me little short of marvellous.