Four years aboard the whaleship: Embracing cruises in the Pacific, Atlantic, Indian, and Antarctic oceans, in the years 1855, '6, '7, '8, '9Whitecar, William B.
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Four years aboard the whaleship: Embracing cruises in the Pacific, Atlantic, Indian, and Antarctic oceans, in the years 1855, '6, '7, '8, '9
Whitecar, William B.
Sailors; Voyages and travels; Whaling
Our boat now glided up to the steps of the landing, which we mounted,
and once more trod upon terra firma. From the different languages that
fell on our ears we were at a loss to tell what countrymen we were
among. First, from the number of turbans and white robes, with the
faultlessly regular oriental features, we were induced to think that we
had landed amid an Arabian population; then, the vast number of gaudy
caps, surmounting shaven crowns, caused us to change our opinion, and
imagine the greater portion of the mass before us derived from farther
down the Malabar coast; but, again, we saw the barbaric ornaments,
dusky features, and scanty clothing of the Madagascar native, followed
by the various Hindoo tribes, representatives of the other East India
colonies belonging to Great Britain; and next the Chinese, the Malay,
the Creole (a production of the amalgamation of some one of these races
with the European); then, lastly, there were the French and English,
intermingled with people from every civilized country of the globe:
and hence it may well be imagined, from these incongruous features of
the populace, that the commingling of all their different languages
must produce a most Babel-like confusion. Then the donkeys, too, which
at all times of day are about the docks in great numbers, added their
harmonious voices to the confused din. At the moment of landing, I
was struck with the sparsity of the white population. It was only at
rare intervals, as I penetrated into the city, that an European face
could be seen; and I have walked for hours in utter ignorance of my
whereabouts; for, although I frequently inquired of whomsoever I met, I
was unable to find one who could speak English enough to direct me.
After a short walk through the macadamized streets, feeling that I was
utterly out of my element, (all sailors, who have been a long cruise at
sea, are poor walkers,) and inquiring for some time as to the direction
of Paul and Virginia’s grave, (the hero and heroine of the beautiful
French novel, which designates this island as Cypress,) we succeeded in
finding an English chaise-driver, who soon had us stowed away in his
vehicle, and bowling along over a good road into the country. Our ride
extended for seven miles, through a populous and fertile country: the
inhabitants being of the same class as in the city.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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