UP THE PACIFIC.
DEPARTURE FOR HONOLULU--MONOTONY OF A VOYAGE BY
STEAM--DESAGREMENS--THE "GENTLEMEN" PASSENGERS--THE ONE SECOND CLASS
"LADY"--THE RATS ON BOARD--THE SMELLS--FLYING FISH--CROSS THE
LINE--TREATMENT OF NEWSPAPERS ON BOARD--HAWAII IN SIGHT--ARRIVAL AT
HONOLULU.
When I went on deck next morning, we had left New Zealand far behind
us; not a speck of land was to be seen, and we were fairly on our way
to Honolulu. We have before us a clear run of about four thousand
miles, and if our machinery and coal keep good, we know that we shall
do it easily in about seventeen days.
Strange though it may seem, there is much greater monotony in a voyage
on board a steamer than there is on board a sailing vessel. There is
nothing like the same interest felt in the progress of the ship, and
thus one unfailing topic of conversation and speculation is shut out.
There are no baffling winds, no sleeping calms, alternating with a
joyous and invigorating run before the wind, such as we had when
coming out, from Plymouth to the Cape. We only know that we shall do
our average ten miles an hour, be the weather what it may. If the wind
is blowing astern, we run before it; if ahead, we run through it.
Fair or foul it matters but little.
[Illustration: (Maps of the Ship's Course up the Pacific, Auckland,
and Sydney, Port Jackson)]
A voyage by a steamer, compared with one by sailing ship, is what a
journey by railway train is to a drive across country in a well-horsed
stage coach. There is, however, this to be said in favour of the
former,--we know that, monotonous though it be, it is very much sooner
over; and on a voyage of some thousands of miles, we can calculate to
a day, and almost to an hour, when we shall arrive at our
destination.
But, to be set against the shorter time consumed on the voyage, there
are numerous little _desagremens_. There is the dismal, never-ending
grind, grind of the screw, sometimes, when the ship rolls, and the
screw is out of the water, going round with a horrible _birr_. At such
times, the vessel has a double motion, pitching and rolling, and
thereby occasioning an inexpressibly sickly feeling. Then, when the
weather is hot, there is the steam of heated oil wafted up from the
engine-room, which, mingled with the smell of bilge, and perhaps
cooking, is anything but agreeable or appetizing. I must also
acknowledge that a second-class berth, which I had taken, is not
comparable in point of comfort to a first; not only as regards the
company, but as regards smells, food, and other surroundings.
There are not many passengers at my end, and the few there are do not
make themselves very agreeable. First, there are two German Jews,
grumbling and growling at everything. They are a couple of the most
cantankerous fellows I ever came across; never done knagging,
swearing, grunting, and bellowing. They keep the steward, who is an
obliging sort of fellow, in a state of constant "wax;" which, when I
want anything done for me, I have to remedy by tipping. So that they
are likely to prove somewhat costly companions, though in a peculiar
way.
Next, there is a German Yankee, a queer old fellow, who came on board
at Auckland. He seems to have made some money at one of the New
Zealand gold fields called "The Serpentine," somewhere near Dunedin.
This old fellow and I cotton together very well. He is worth a dozen
of the other two Germans. He had been all through the American war
under Grant, and spins some long yarns about the Northerners and the
"cussed rebs."
As there are twenty-seven bunks in our cabin, and only four
passengers, there is of course plenty of room and to spare. But there
is also a "lady" passenger at our end of the ship, and she has all the
fifteen sleeping-places in her cabin to herself. It might be supposed
that, there being only one lady, she would be in considerable demand
with her fellow-passengers. But it was quite the contrary. Miss
Ribbids, as I will call her, proved to be a most uninteresting
individual. I am sorry to have to confess to so much ungallantry; but
the only effort which I made, in common with the others, was to avoid
her--she was so hopelessly dense. One night she asked me, quite
seriously, "If that was the same moon they had at Sydney?"! I am sure
she does not know that the earth is round. By stretching a hair across
the telescope glass, I made her look in and showed her the Line, but
she did not see the joke. She gravely asked if we should not land at
the Line: she understood there was land there! Her only humour is
displayed at table, when anything is spilt by the rolling of the ship,
when she exclaims, "Over goes the apple-cart!" But enough of the awful
Miss Ribbids.
There are, however, other passengers aboard that must not be
forgotten--the rats! I used to have a horror of rats, but here I soon
became used to them. The first night I slept on board I smelt
something very disgusting as I got into my bunk; and at last I
discovered that it arose from a dead rat in the wainscot of the ship.
My nose being somewhat fastidious as yet, I moved to the other side of
the cabin. But four kegs of strong-smelling butter sent me quickly out
of that. I then tried a bunk next to the German Jews, but I found
proximity to them was the least endurable of all; and so, after many
changes, I at last came back and slept contentedly beside my unseen
and most unsavoury companion, the dead rat.
But there are plenty of living and very lively rats too. One night a
big fellow ran over my face, and in a fright I cried out. But use is
everything, and in the course of a few more nights I got quite rid of
my childish astonishment and fear at rats running over my face. Have
you ever heard rats sing? I assure you they sing in a very lively
chorus; though I confess I have heard much pleasanter music in my
time.
Amidst all these little troubles, the ship went steadily on. During
the second night, after leaving Auckland, the wind began to blow
pretty fresh, and the hatch was closed. It felt very close and stuffy
below, that night. The light went out, and the rats had it all their
own way. On the following day, it was impossible to go on deck without
getting wet through, so we were forced to stick down below. The
rolling of the ship was also considerable.
Next day was fine, but hot. The temperature sensibly and even rapidly
increases as we approach the Line. We see no land, though we have
passed through amongst the Friendly Islands, with the Samoa or
Navigator's Islands lying to the west. It is now a clear course to
Honolulu. Not being able to go on deck in the heat of the day, at risk
of sun-stroke, I wait until the sun has gone down, and then slip on
deck with my rug and pillow, and enjoy a siesta under the stars. But
sometimes I am disturbed by a squall, and have to take refuge below
again.
As the heat increases, so do the smells on board. In passing from the
deck to our cabin, I pass through seven distinct perfumes:--1st, the
smell from the galley smoke; 2nd, the perfume of decaying vegetables
stored on the upper deck; 3rd, fowls; 4th, dried fish; 5th, oil and
steam from the engine-room; 6th, meat undergoing the process of
cooking; 7th, the galley by which I pass; until I finally enter No. 8,
our own sweet cabin, with the butter, the rats, and the German Jews.
We are again in the midst of the flying fish; but they interest me
nothing like so vividly as they did when I first saw them in the
Atlantic. Some of them take very long flights, as much as thirty or
forty yards. Whole shoals of them fly away from the bows of the ship
as she presses through the water.
On the 19th of January we crossed the Line, in longitude about 160 deg..
We continue on a straight course, making an average of about 240 miles
a day. It already begins to get cooler, as we are past the sun's
greatest heat. It is a very idle, listless life; and I lie about on
the hen-coops all day, reading, or sitting down now and then to write
up this log, which has been written throughout amidst discomfort and
under considerable difficulties.
One of my fellow-passengers is enraged at the manner in which
newspapers are treated while in transit. If what he says be true, I
can easily understand how it is that so many newspapers miscarry--how
so many numbers of 'Punch' and the 'Illustrated News' never reach
their destination. My informant says that when an officer wants a
newspaper, the mail-bag is opened, and he takes what he likes. He
might just as well be permitted to have letters containing money. Many
a poor colonial who cannot write a letter, buys and despatches a
newspaper to his friends at home, to let them know he is alive; and
this is the careless and unfaithful way in which the missive is
treated by those to whom its carriage is entrusted. I heard many
complaints while in Victoria, of newspapers containing matter of
interest never reaching their address; from which I infer that the
same practice more or less prevails on the Atlantic route. It is
really too bad.
As we steam north, the weather grows fine, and we begin to have some
splendid days and glorious sunsets. But we are all longing eagerly to
arrive at our destination. At length, on the morning of the 24th of
January, we discerned the high land of the island of Hawaii, about
seventy miles off, on our beam. That is the island where Captain Cook
was murdered by the natives, in 1779. We saw distinctly the high
conical volcanic mountain of Mauna Loa, 14,000 feet high, its peak
showing clear above the grey clouds.
We steamed on all day, peering ahead, looking out for the land. Night
fell, and still our port was not in sight. At length, at about ten,
the lighthouse on the reef which stretches out in front of Honolulu,
shone out in the darkness. Then began a little display of fireworks,
and rockets and blue lights were exchanged between our ship and the
shore. A rocket also shot up from a steamer to seaward, and she was
made out to be the 'Moses Taylor,' the ship that is to take us on to
San Francisco.
At about one in the morning, we take our pilot on board, and shortly
after, my German friends rouse me with the intelligence that we are
alongside the wharf. I am now, however, getting an "old bird;" my
enthusiasm about novelty has gone down considerably; and I decline the
pleasure of accompanying them on shore at this early hour. Honolulu
will doubtless wait for me until morning.
[Illustration: HONOLULU, SANDWICH ISLANDS.]