A BOATING ADVENTURE IN THE CAROLINES

  In the year 1874 we were cruising leisurely through the WesternCarolines, in the North Pacific, trading at such islands as we touchedat, and making for the Pelew Group, still farther to the westward. Butat that season of the year the winds were very light, a strong oceancurrent set continuously to the eastward, and there was every indicationof a solid calm setting in, and lasting, as they do in these latitudes,for a week. Now, part of our cargo consisted of dried sharks' fins, andthe smell from these was so strong that every one of the three white menon board was suffering from severe headache. We had a number of nativepassengers, and, as they lived in the hold, we could not close thehatches; they, however, did not mind the nauseating odour in the least.So, for three or four days, we crawled along, raising the wooded peaksof Ascension Island (Ponape) one afternoon, and drifting back to theeast so much in the night as to lose them at sunrise. Then followedanother day of a sky of brass above and a steaming wide expanse of oilysea below, and then, at nightfall, a sweet, cooling breeze from thenorth-east, and general happiness, accentuated by a native woman playinga dissolute-looking accordion, and singing 'Voici le Sabre,' in TahitianFrench. No one cared to sleep that night. Dawn came almost ere we knewit, and again the blue peaks of Ascension loomed up right ahead.

  Just as we had finished coffee, and our attention was drawn to a numberof boobies and whale-birds resting upon some floating substance half amile distant, we discovered a couple of sail ahead, and then another,and another, all whalers, and, as they were under easy-cruisingcanvas--being on the sperm whaling ground--we soon began to overhaulthem. One was a small, full-rigged ship, the others were barques. As weslipped along after them I ran our little vessel close to the floatingobject I have before mentioned, and saw it was a ship's lower mast,which looked, from the scarcity of marine growth upon it, to havebeen in the water but a short time. Shortly after, we passed some morewreckage, all of which evidently had belonged to a good lump of thevessel.

  About eleven o'clock we were close to one of the barques--a four-boatship, and also carrying a nine-foot dinghy at her stern. She hoisted theHawaiian colours in response to ours, and, as the breeze was very light,I hailed her skipper and we began to talk. Our skipper wanted somepump-leather; he wanted some white sugar.

  'Come aboard,' he said, 'and have dinner with me. I'll give you a barrelof 'Frisco potatoes to take back.'

  We lowered our whale-boat, and, taking two hands, I pulled alongside thebarque. Although under the Hawaiian flag, her officers were nearly allAmericans, and, as is always the case in the South Seas, we were soon onfriendly terms. The four ships were all making for Jakoits Harbour, inPonape, to wood and water; and I said we would keep company with them.Our own skipper, I must mention, was just recovering from wild, weirdvisions of impossible, imaginary animals, superinduced by Hollands gin,and I wanted to put him ashore at Ponape for a week or so.

  After dinner the American captain put a barrel of potatoes intoour boat, and I bade him good-bye for the time. The breeze was nowfreshening, and, as he decided to get into Jakoits before dark, thebarque made sail, and was soon a good distance ahead of our vessel.

  Between four and five o'clock we saw the foremost whaler--theship--brace up sharp, and almost immediately the other three followedsuit. We soon discovered the cause--whales had been sighted, coming downfrom windward. The 'pod' or school was nearest to us, and we could seethem quite plainly from the deck. Every now and then one of them would'breach' and send up a white mass of foam, and by their course I sawthat they would pass between us and the barque--the ship nearest to us.In less than five minutes there were more than a dozen boats loweredfrom the four vessels, all pulling their hardest to reach the whalesfirst. The creatures came along very leisurely, then, when about a milefrom the schooner, hove-to for a short time; their keen hearing toldthem of danger ahead, for three or four of them sounded, and then madeoff to windward. These were followed by all the boats from the otherthree vessels, and two from the barque, the remaining two belonging tothe latter pulling across our bows, close together and within a hundredyards of us.

  The rest of the whales--some cows, with their calves, and a bull--afterlying quiet for a short time, also sounded, but soon rose again, quiteclose to the two boats. That of the chief mate got 'fast' first to oneof the cows, and away they flew at twelve or thirteen knots. The secondboat was making for the bull, which seemed very uneasy, and was swimmingat a great speed round and round the remaining cows and calves, withhis head high out of the water as if to guard them from danger, when themonstrous creature again sounded and the boat-header instantly turnedhis attention to a cow, which lay perfectly motionless on the water,apparently too terrified to move.

  Half a dozen strokes sent the boat to within striking distance and theboat-header called to his boat-steerer to 'Stand up.' The boat-steerer,who pulls bow oar before a whale is struck, and goes aft after striking,is also the harpooner, and at the order to stand up, takes in his oarand seizes his harpoon. After he has darted the iron, and the boat isbacked astern, he comes aft to steer, and the officer takes his placefor'ard, ready to lance the whale at the fitting time. There is noreason or sense in this procedure, it is merely whaling custom.

  Just as the boat-steerer stood up, iron in hand, the bull rose rightunder the boat's stern, lifted her clean out of the water with his head,and then, as he swept onward, gave her an underclip with his mightyflukes, smashing her in like an egg-shell and sending men, oars, tub andlines, and broken timbers, broadcast into the air. Then, with the ladyby his side, he raced away.

  Most fortunately, our own boat was still towing astern, for as wewere so near the land we had not bothered about hoisting her up again,knowing that we should want her to tow us into Jakoits if the wind felllight when going through the passage.

  The mate, two Penrhyn Island natives and myself were but a few momentsin hauling her alongside, jumping in, and pulling to the assistanceof the whale-boat's crew, some of whom we could see clinging to thewreckage. The officer in charge was a little wiry Western IslandPortuguese, and as we came up he called out to us that one of the menwas killed and had sunk, and another, whom he was supporting, had hisleg broken and was unconscious. We lifted them into the boat as quicklyas possible, laid the injured man on his back and started for theschooner. We had scarcely pulled a dozen strokes when, to our profoundastonishment, we saw her suddenly keep away from us.

  'The captain's come on deck again,' cried one or our native hands to me.

  Sure enough, the skipper was on deck, and at the wheel, and took not theslightest heed of our repeated hails, except that he merely turned hishead, gave us a brief glance, eased off the main-sheet a bit, and letthe schooner spin away towards the land. We learnt next evening that hehad suddenly emerged on deck from his bunk, given the helmsman a cuffon the head, and driven him, the steward and the other remaining handup for'ard. They and the native passengers, who knew something of hisperformances when in liquor, were too frightened to do anything, and lethim have his own way.

  We pulled after the schooner as hard as we could for a quarter of anhour, then gave it up and steered for the barque, which was now a coupleof miles away. She had been working to windward after the chiefmate's and fourth mate's boats--both of which had quickly killed theirrespective whales--when the disaster to the second officer's boat wasseen, and she was now coming towards us. The fourth boat was milesdistant, chasing the main body of the 'pod,' in company with those ofthe other barques and the ship.

  By this time it was all but dark; a short, choppy sea had risen, thewind came in sharp, angry puffs every now and then, and we made scarcelyany headway against it. The barque seemed to be almost standing still,though she was really coming along at a ripping pace. Presently sheshowed a light, and we felt relieved. Just then the man with the brokenleg called to his officer, and asked for a smoke, and I was filling mypipe for him when the boat struck something hard with a crash, shipped asea aft, and at once capsized, several of us
being taken underneath her.

  The Portuguese, who was a gallant little fellow, had, with one of thePenrhyn Islanders, got the wounded man clear, and presently we all foundourselves clinging to the boat, which was floating bottom-up and badlybilged. Fortunately, none of us were hurt, but our position was adangerous one, and we kept hailing repeatedly, fearing that the barquewould run by us in the darkness, and that the blue sharks would discoverus. Then, to our joy, we saw her close to, bearing right down upon us,and now came the added terror that she would run us down, unless thoseon board could be made to hear our cries and realise our situation.

  Again we raised our voices, and shouted till our lungs were exhausted,but no answer came, the only sounds we heard being the thrappingand swash of the waves against our boat. Five minutes--which seemedhours--passed, and then we suddenly lost sight of the barque'sheadlight, and saw the dull gleam of those aft shining through the cabinports.

  'Thank God!' said the whaler officer, 'he's bringing to.'

  Scarcely had he spoken when we heard a hail distinctly.

  'Boat ahoy, there, where are you?'

  'In the water. We're capsized,' I answered.

  No response came; then again they hailed, and again we shouted unitedly,but no reply, and presently we saw a blue light was being burnt on thestarboard side--they were looking for us in the wrong quarter. For someminutes our suspense was horrible, for, if the captain thought he hadovershot our boat (knowing nothing of the second disaster), he would,we feared, go off on the other tack. Again they hailed, and againwe answered, though we were now feeling pretty well done up, and thePortuguese was alternately praying to the saints and consigning hiscaptain to hell.

  'Hurrah!' cried Tom, one of my Penrhyn Island boys, 'she's filling awayagain, and coming down; they've heard us, safe enough.'

  It so happened that they had not heard us at all; but the captain, atthe earnest request of the ship's cooper, who believed that we had beenswamped, and were to leeward, decided to keep away for a short time, andthen again bring-to. Not only was he anxious for us, but for the otherboats, and the dead whales as well; for he feared that, unless he couldget the latter alongside by daylight, and start to cut-in, the sharkswould devour the best part of them.

  A few more minutes passed, and now we saw the barque looming through thenight, and apparently again coming right on top of us. We shoutedand screamed till our voices broke into hoarse groans; and then therehappened a strange thing. That which had caused our misfortune provedour salvation. We heard a crashing sound, followed by loud cries ofalarm, and then saw the ship lying flat aback, canting heavily over toport. Presently she righted, and then made a stern-board, and came soclose to us that one of the hands not only heard our cries but saw us inthe water.

  In an instant the captain called to us to cheer up, and said a boat wascoming. 'The ship struck some wreckage, and is making water,' he added.

  We were taken aboard in two trips, the poor, broken-legged sailorsuffering terribly. He had been kept from drowning by one of the Penrhynmen, who stuck to him like a brick through all the time we were in thewater. Neither of these brave islanders had lost heart for a moment,though Harry, the elder of the two, was in consumption and not at allstrong.

  As soon as we had sufficiently recovered to be able to talk and tell ourstory, we were pleased to hear from the captain that the ship was notbadly injured, and that the pumps--short-handed as he then was--couldeasily keep the water down; also that all the other boats were safe,and had signalled that they had each 'killed,' and were lying by theirwhales.

  Early in the morning the four ships were within a few miles of eachother, and each had one or more whales alongside, cutting-in. Theschooner, too, was in sight, lying becalmed under the lee of Ponape. Thecaptain of the whaler lent me one of his boats, paid me a fair price forthe loss of our own, and otherwise treated us handsomely. He was highlypleased at having such 'greasy luck,' i.e., getting three fish, and,besides presenting me with another barrel of potatoes, gave me fourbolts of canvas, and each of our natives came away with a small case oftobacco, and five dollars in silver.

  We had a long pull to the schooner, and our arrival was hailed withcries of delight. The skipper, we were pleased to learn, was nearlydead, having been severely beaten by the women passengers on board, oneof whom, creeping up behind him as he was steering, threw a piece of_tappa_ cloth over his head, while the others bore him to the deck andtied him up and hammered him. He told me a few days afterwards that hehad not the slightest recollection of leaving us in the boat.

  The wreckage upon which the whale-ship struck was, so her captainimagined, the same which had capsized our boat. As far as he could makeout in the darkness, it was a long and wide piece of decking, belongingto a large ship. Our boat, very probably, had gone half her lengthon top of the edge of it, and was then washed off again after she hadbilged; and the strong current had set us clear.