IN THE SOUTH ATLANTIC.
PREPARING FOR ROUGH WEATHER--THE 'GEORGE THOMPSON' CLIPPER--A RACE AT
SEA--SCENE FROM 'PICKWICK' ACTED--FISHING FOR ALBATROSS--DISSECTION
AND DIVISION OF THE BIRD--WHALES--STRONG GALE--SMASH IN THE
CABIN--SHIPPING A GREEN SEA--THE SEA BIRDS IN OUR WAKE--THE CROZET
ISLANDS.
_11th April_.--We are now past the pleasantest part of our voyage, and
expect to encounter much rougher seas. Everything is accordingly
prepared for heavy weather. The best and newest sails are bent; the
old and worn ones are sent below. We may have to encounter storms or
even cyclones in the Southern Ocean, and our captain is now ready for
any wind that may blow. For some days we have had a very heavy swell
coming up from the south, as if there were strong winds blowing in
that quarter. We have, indeed, already had a taste of dirty weather
to-day--hard rain, with a stiffish breeze; but as the ship is still
going with the wind and sea, we do not as yet feel much inconvenience.
A few days since, we spoke a vessel that we had been gradually coming
up to for some time, and she proved to be the 'George Thompson,' a
splendid Aberdeen-built clipper, one of the fastest ships out of
London. No sooner was this known, than it became a matter of great
interest as to whether we could overhaul the clipper. Our ship,
because of the height and strength of her spars, enables us to carry
much more sail, and we are probably equal to the other ship in lighter
breezes; but she, being clipper-built and so much sharper, has the
advantage of us in heavier winds. The captain was overjoyed at having
gained upon the other vessel thus far, for she left London five days
before we sailed from Plymouth. As we gradually drew nearer, the
breeze freshened, and there became quite an exciting contest between
the ships. We gained upon our rival, caught up to her, and gradually
forged ahead, and at sundown the 'George Thompson' was about six miles
astern. Before we caught up to her she signalled to us, by way of
chaff, "Signal us at Lloyd's!" and when we had passed her, we
signalled back, "We wish you a good voyage!"
The wind having freshened during the night, the 'George Thompson' was
seen gradually creeping up to us with all her sail set. The wind was
on our beam, and the 'George Thompson's' dark green hull seemed to us
sometimes almost buried in the sea, and we only saw her slanting deck
as she heeled over from the freshening breeze. What a cloud of canvas
she carried! The spray flew up and over her decks, as she plunged
right through the water.
The day advanced; she continued to gain, and towards evening she
passed on our weather-side. The captain, of course, was savage; but
the race was not lost yet. On the following day, with a lighter wind,
we again overhauled our rival, and at night left her four or five
miles behind. Next day she was not to be seen. We had thus far
completely outstripped the noted clipper.[1]
We again begin to reconsider the question of giving a popular
entertainment on board. The ordinary recreations of quoit-playing, and
such like, have become unpopular, and a little variety is wanted. A
reading from 'Pickwick' is suggested; but cannot we contrive to _act_
a few of the scenes! We determine to get up three of the most
attractive:--1st. The surprise of Mrs. Bardell in Pickwick's arms;
2nd. The notice of action from Dodson and Fogg; and 3rd. The Trial
scene. A great deal of time is, of course, occupied in getting up the
scenes, and in the rehearsals, which occasion a good deal of
amusement. A London gentleman promises to make a capital Sam Weller;
our clergyman a very good Buzfuz; and our worthy young doctor the
great Pickwick himself.
At length all is ready, and the affair comes off in the main-hatch,
where there is plenty of room. The theatre is rigged out with flags,
and looks quite gay. The passengers of all classes assemble, and make
a goodly company. The whole thing went off very well--indeed, much
better than was expected--though I do not think the third-class
passengers quite appreciated the wit of the piece. Strange to say,
the greatest success of the evening was the one least expected--the
character of Mrs. Cluppins. One of the middies who took the part, was
splendid, and evoked roars of laughter.
Our success has made us ambitious, and we think of getting up another
piece--a burlesque, entitled 'Sir Dagobert and the Dragon,' from one
of my Beeton's 'Annuals.' There is not much in it; but, _faute de
mieux_, it may do very well. But to revert to less "towny" and much
more interesting matters passing on board.
We were in about the latitude of the Cape of Good Hope when we saw our
first albatross; but as we proceeded south, we were attended by
increasing numbers of those birds as well as of Mother Carey's
chickens, the storm-birds of the South Seas. The albatross is a
splendid bird, white on the breast and the inside of the wings, the
rest of the body being deep brown and black.
One of the most popular amusements is "fishing" for an albatross,
which is done in the following manner. A long and stout line is let
out, with a strong hook at the end baited with a piece of meat, buoyed
up with corks. This is allowed to trail on the water at the stern of
the ship. One or other of the sea-birds wheeling about, seeing the
floating object in the water, comes up, eyes it askance, and perhaps
at length clumsily flops down beside it. The line is at once let out,
so that the bait may not drag after the ship. If this be done
cleverly, and there be length enough of line to let out quickly, the
bird probably makes a snatch at the meat, and the hook catches hold of
his curved bill. Directly he grabs at the pork, and it is felt that
the albatross is hooked, the letting out of the line is at once
stopped, and it is hauled in with all speed. The great thing is to
pull quickly, so as to prevent the bird getting the opportunity of
spreading his wings, and making a heavy struggle as he comes along on
the surface of the water. It is a good heavy pull for two men to get
up an albatross if the ship is going at any speed. The poor fellow,
when hauled on deck, is no longer the royal bird that he seemed when
circling above our heads with his great wings spread out only a few
minutes ago. Here he is quite helpless, and tries to waddle about like
a great goose; the first thing he often does being to void all the
contents of his stomach, as if he were seasick.
The first albatross we caught was not a very large one, being only
about ten feet from tip to tip of the wings; whereas the larger birds
measure from twelve to thirteen feet. The bird, when caught, was held
firmly down, and despatched by the doctor with the aid of prussic
acid. He was then cut up, and his skin, for the sake of the feathers
and plumage, divided amongst us. The head and neck fell to my share,
and, after cleaning and dressing it, I hung my treasure by a string
out of my cabin-window; but, when I next went to look at it, lo! the
string had been cut, and my albatross's head and neck were gone.
All day the saloon and various cabins smelt very fishy by reason of
the operations connected with the dissecting and cleaning of the
several parts of the albatross. One was making a pipe-stem out of one
of the long wing-bones. Another was making a tobacco pouch out of the
large feet of the bird. The doctor's cabin was like a butcher's shop
in these bird-catching times. Part of his floor would be occupied by
the bloody skin of the great bird, stretched out upon boards, with the
doctor on his knees beside it working away with his dissecting
scissors and pincers, getting the large pieces of fat off the skin.
Esculapius seemed quite to relish the operation; whilst, on the other
hand the clergyman, who occupied the same cabin, held his handkerchief
to his nose, and regarded the debris of flesh and feathers on the
floor with horror and dismay.
Other birds, of a kind we had not before seen shortly made their
appearance, flying round the ship. There is, for instance, the
whale-bird, perfectly black on the top of the wings and body, and
white underneath. It is, in size, between a Mother Carey and a
Molly-hawk, which latter is very nearly as big as an albatross.
Ice-birds and Cape-pigeons also fly about us in numbers; the latter
are about the size of ordinary pigeons, black, mottled with white on
the back, and grey on the breast.
A still more interesting sight was that of a great grampus, which rose
close to the ship, exposing his body as he leapt through a wave.
Shortly after, a few more were seen at a greater distance, as if
playing about and gambolling for our amusement.
_17th April_.--The weather is growing sensibly colder. Instead of
broiling under cover, in the thinnest of garments, we now revert to
our winter clothing for comfort. Towards night the wind rose, and
gradually increased until it blew a heavy gale, so strong that all the
sails had to be taken in--all but the foresail and the main-topsail
closely reefed. Luckily for us, the wind was nearly aft, so that we
did not feel its effects nearly so much as if it had been on our beam.
Tonight we rounded the Cape, twenty-four days from the Line and
forty-five from Plymouth.
On the following day the wind was still blowing hard. When I went on
deck in the morning, I found that the mainsail had been split up the
middle, and carried away with a loud bang to sea. The ship was now
under mizen-topsail, close-reefed main-topsail, and fore-topsail and
foresail, no new mainsail having been bent. The sea was a splendid
sight. Waves, like low mountains, came rolling after us, breaking
along each side of the ship. I was a personal sufferer by the gale. I
had scarcely got on deck when the wind whisked off my Scotch cap with
the silver thistle in it, and blew it away to sea. Then, in going down
to my cabin, I found my books, boxes, and furniture lurching about;
and, to wind up with, during the evening I was rolled over while
sitting on one of the cuddy chairs, and broke it. Truly a day full of
small misfortunes for me!
In the night I was awakened by the noise and the violent rolling of
the ship. The mizen-mast strained and creaked; chairs had broken loose
in the saloon; crockery was knocking about and smashing up in the
steward's pantry. In the cabin adjoining, the water-can and bath were
rambling up and down; and in the midst of all the hubbub the Major
could be heard shouting, "Two to one on the water-can!" "They were
just taking the fences," he said. There were few but had some mishap
in their cabins. One had a hunt after a box that had broken loose;
another was lamenting the necessity of getting up after his
washhand-basin and placing his legs in peril outside his bunk. Before
breakfast I went on deck to look at the scene. It was still blowing a
gale. We were under topsails and mainsail, with a close-reefed
top-sail on the mizen-mast. The sight from the poop is splendid. At
one moment we were high up on the top of a wave, looking into a deep
valley behind us; at another we were down in the trough of the sea,
with an enormous wall of water coming after us. The pure light-green
waves were crested with foam, which curled over and over, and never
stopped rolling. The deck lay over at a dreadful slant to a landsman's
eye; indeed, notwithstanding holding on to everything I could catch, I
fell four times during the morning.
With difficulty I reached the saloon, where the passengers had
assembled for breakfast. Scarcely had we taken out seats when an
enormous sea struck the ship, landed on the poop, dashed in the saloon
skylight, and flooded the table with water. This was a bad event for
those who had not had their breakfast. As I was mounting the cuddy
stairs, I met the captain coming down thoroughly soaked. He had been
knocked down, and had to hold on by a chain to prevent himself being
washed about the deck. The officer of the watch afterwards told me
that he had seen his head bobbing up and down amidst the water, of
which there were tons on the poop.
This was what they call "shipping a green sea,"--so called because so
much water is thrown upon the deck that it ceases to have the frothy
appearance of smaller seas when shipped, but looks a mass of solid
green water. Our skipper afterwards told us at dinner that the captain
of the 'Essex' had not long ago been thrown by such a sea on to one of
the hen-coops that run round the poop, breaking through the iron bars,
and that he had been so bruised that he had not yet entirely recovered
from his injuries. Such is the tremendous force of water in violent
motion at sea.[2]
When I went on deck again, the wind had somewhat abated, but the sea
was still very heavy. While on the poop, one enormous wave came
rolling on after us, seeming as if it must engulf the ship. But the
stern rose gradually and gracefully as the huge wave came on, and it
rolled along, bubbling over the sides of the main-deck, and leaving it
about two feet deep in water. As the day wore on the wind gradually
went down, and it seemed as if we were to have another spell of fine
weather.
[Illustration: (Map of the Ship's Course, Plymouth to Melbourne)]
Next morning the sun shone clear; the wind had nearly died away,
though a heavy swell still crossed our quarter. Thousands of sea-birds
flew about us, and clusters were to be seen off our stern, as far as
the eye could reach. They seemed, though on a much larger scale, to be
hanging upon our track, just as a flock of crows hang over the track
of a plough in the field, and doubtless for the same reason--to pick
up the food thrown up by the mighty keel of our ship. Most of them
were ice-birds, blue petrels, and whale-birds, with a large admixture
of albatrosses and Mother Carey's chickens. One of the passengers
caught and killed one of the last-named birds, at which the captain
was rather displeased, the sailors having a superstition about these
birds, that it is unlucky to kill them. An ice-bird was caught, and a
very pretty bird it is, almost pure white, with delicate blue feet and
beak. Another caught a Cape pigeon, and I caught a stink-pot, a large
bird measuring about eight feet from wing to wing. The bird was very
plucky when got on deck, and tried to peck at us; but we soon had him
down. As his plumage was of no use, we fastened a small tin-plate to
his leg, with 'Yorkshire' scratched on it, and let him go. But it was
some time before he rose from his waddling on the deck, spread his
wings, and sailed into the air.
Some of the passengers carry on shooting at the numerous birds from
the stern of the ship; but it is cruel sport. It may be fun to us, but
it is death to the birds. And not always death. Poor things! It is a
pitiful sight to see one of them, pricked or winged, floating away
with its wounds upon it, until quite out of sight. Such sport seems
cruel, if it be not cowardly.
_23rd April_.--We are now in latitude 45.16 deg. south, and the captain
tells us that during the night we may probably sight the Crozet
Islands. It seems that these islands are inaccurately marked on the
charts, some of even the best authorities putting them from one and a
half to two degrees out both in latitude and longitude, as the captain
showed us by a late edition of a standard work on navigation. Once he
came pretty well south on purpose to sight them; but when he reached
the precise latitude in which, according to his authority, they were
situated, they were not to be seen.
At 8 P.M. the man on the look-out gave the cry of "Land ho!" "Where
away?" "On the lee beam." I strained my eyes in the direction
indicated, but could make out nothing like land. I could see
absolutely nothing but water all round. Two hours passed before I
could discern anything which could give one the idea of land--three
small, misty, cloud-looking objects, lying far off to the south, which
were said to be the islands. In about an hour more we were within
about five miles of Les Apotres, part of the group, having passed
Cochon in the distance. Cochon is so called because of the number of
wild pigs on the island. The largest, Possession Island, gave refuge
to the shipwrecked crew of a whaler for about two years, when they
were at length picked off by a passing ship. The Crozets are of
volcanic origin, and some of them present a curious, conical, and
sometimes fantastic appearance, more particularly Les Apotres. The
greater number of them are quite barren, the only vegetation of the
others consisting of a few low stunted bushes.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: It may, however, be added, that though we did not again
sight the 'George Thompson' during our voyage, she arrived at
Melbourne about forty-eight hours before our ship.]
[Footnote 2: Mr. G. Stevenson registered a force of three tons per
square foot at Skerryvore during a gale in the Atlantic, when the
waves were supposed to be twenty feet high.]