INTRODUCING CAPTAIN KANE, MRS. FAGAN AND MRS. FAGAN'S BAR
After convincing the pilot of the Captain's death, I was given a severe
reprimand for coming into the harbor alone. When he went ashore I had
the small boat lowered, and, putting on a pair of the dead Captain's
shoes, also his shirt and pants, I had Broken-Nosed Pete row me to the
landing place on the wharf.
I wanted to look up the consignee and see where he wanted the cargo of
lumber. There were a few cutters anchored in the harbor, but no ships.
As we neared the wharf, I noticed a neat and clean little steam cutter
lying along the south side of the wharf, and judged from the three-pound
gun on her deck that she was a revenue cutter. On the wharf stood many
natives, male and female. I was particularly attracted to the native
men, who were wonderful types of physical development, standing six
feet or more, with broad shoulders and deep chests. The muscles ran
smoothly in their arms and legs, and their tapering thighs and agile
feet made a picture seldom seen in the northern latitudes. They had no
worries and troubles in dealing with the tailors and dressmakers. Adam
and Eve fashions still prevailed here, although some of the more
prominent wore a yard or two of white linen instead of the fig leaves.
This, contrasted with the shiny dark skin and the white-washed hair,
which had a vertical pitch, rather distinguished them in appearance from
their more humble brethren.
Broken-Nosed Pete was so fascinated by "the female of the species," that
he forgot to moor the boat. As the latter was drifting away from the
wharf I gave him instructions to be more prudent,--to make fast the
boat, and remain there until my return. Evidently Pete was not looking
for this rebuke, for he answered in a voice that could be heard the
width of the harbor saying, "Aye, aye, there seems to be a hellish
current, sir."
As I started to walk up the wharf I was met by a young man wearing a
Palm Beach suit. "You are the Captain of the 'Wampa,' I believe," said
he, "I represent Smith & Company here, and your cargo is consigned to
us." After showing me where the lumber was to go, he told me that I
would have to raft it ashore. This was rather discouraging to me, as the
distance was about one mile from the ship and I had never had any
experience with work of this kind, but on account of shallow water at
the dock I had no other alternative and decided to raft the cargo ashore
as he directed.
He invited me to his office, telling me that he believed there was mail
there for the ship. In passing a hotel at the end of the wharf he
suggested a highball, which was served in due course by a red-headed
Irish barmaid. I was then introduced to a number of Hibernians,
noticeable among whom was a very fat and blubbery looking creature with
an unusually large nose. His black beard was streaked with gray, his
mouth had a sort of an angular twist, and in opening it one could see a
few stray tusks, so solitary that it seemed they must be quite conscious
of the old surroundings. The shirt, with its nicotine and other stains,
was open at the neck, displaying a black and long-haired breast. This he
seemed to be very proud of.
After telling me that his name was Captain Kane, and that he was the
Captain of the "Pongon," the revenue cutter which I had noticed lying
alongside the wharf, he put his hand to his breast and began to twist
the black hair. This was probably an act of official dignity as Captain
of the "Pongon," and representative of the British Government in the
Fiji Archipelago. I got the mail, which consisted of three letters, one
for the cook, and one for me from the owners, instructing me to proceed
home in ballast to San Francisco. The other was addressed to Nelson, the
Dane. When I got back aboard the ship it was noon, and raining as it
knows how to rain in this country. It was not dropping down, but a
continuous stream as if running through a sprinkler.
The afternoon was given to taking off deck-lashings and getting a line
ashore in order to be able to pull the raft to the wharf. This operation
used up almost all the rope on the ship.
About seven o'clock the crew came aft to say that they were going
ashore and wanted some money to spend. Oh, no, not at all for whiskey,
just a few necessary things such as socks, tobacco and handkerchiefs.
(Whoever heard of a sailor buying a handkerchief while the ready oakum
is to be had for the asking!) I assured them that tomorrow I would draw
on the owners, and give them one pound each to spend on these luxuries.
They went forward growling and grumbling, and not at all pleased with
this proposition. I believe that Broken-Nosed Pete's description of what
he had seen at the wharf weighed heavy on their minds.
In the morning we started the raft by taking four long two-by-sixes and
lashing them at the ends, thus forming a square, then launching it over
the side, and making it fast to the ship. We started to stow the lumber
on the ship, running the boards fore and aft, then athwart ships. After
having stowed a few tiers, the raft took shape, but great care had to be
taken in starting it, as it was hard to keep the first boards from
floating away. The raft could not draw over six feet, otherwise we could
not float it ashore, but with this draft we could raft twenty thousand
feet ashore and escape the shallow places in the harbor.
I went ashore towards noon to hire ten natives to help unload cargo.
Much to my surprise, the native Fijian is a man of leisure and not of
toil. Shell-fishing is good, and the yams and bananas are within easy
reach, so this gentleman prefers to bask in the sunshine rather than to
work for a paltry shilling.
I was about to go to the office of Smith & Company to see what they
could do for me about getting help, when I espied Captain Kane strolling
up the wharf. From the way his legs were spread apart one could see that
his cargo was something different from lumber. As he approached me I
noticed the cigar was so short that it was singeing his black beard and
mustache. He greeted me warmly, saying, "How's she heading, sonny?" and
insisted that I join him in a glass, as he usually took one about this
time of day.
On the way to the hotel I told him how hard it was going to be for me to
get help. He stopped suddenly, and, turning around to look at the harbor
as if to make sure that there were no blockade runners in the offing,
he fanned himself with his cheese-cutter cap, then turned towards me
saying, "Why, man alive, I can load your ship down with coolies. Do you
see those," pointing to a couple of small men, "they are our workers
here. They come in from the Solomon group. I will get you as many as you
want for two shillings a day and meals. As for these natives, they are
damned lazy scoundrels, that's what they are, they won't work at all if
they can help it."
Mrs. Fagan greeted us with a smile, asking us in the good old Irish way
what our pleasure might be. Her red hair was much in need of combing and
lacked the delicate wave of the tonsorial artist. We were joined by the
pilot, who was on his way to give his boat's crew a little excursion
around the harbor. "One must keep them in practice, you know. Goodness
knows when a coolie ship may heave in sight, and I must be there to
guide her in. Oh, yes, I must do my duty rain or shine."