Missing Friends: Being the Adventures of a Danish Emigrant in Queensland (1871-1880)Weitemeyer, Thorvald Peter Ludwig
History
Missing Friends: Being the Adventures of a Danish Emigrant in Queensland (1871-1880)
Weitemeyer, Thorvald Peter Ludwig
Queensland -- Description and travel
As we sailed down the river the captain said to me, "Are you the diver?"
"No savey." "Are you going up to the pearl fisheries?" "No savey." "Have
you got a ticket?" "No savey." "Dang that fellow! Are you----Deutcher?"
"No savey." "Well, if you 'no savey,' all I can tell you is that you
shall not get on board the steamer without a ticket. You savey swim?"
"Oh yes, I savey swim belong de pearl all de time?" "Oh, well, I think
you had better go back with us again, because they will only give you to
the sharks up there, if you try any tricks on them."
Here the conversation was interrupted by the captain having to attend to
the ship, and I scrambled out of his way. It did not take long before we
were out alongside the large steamer, and so as it was very close I
watched my opportunity and climbed up the side and on board. There was a
large coil of rope lying on the deck, and into that I crept without a
thought for the morrow. I heard the ship getting under weigh and then I
slept, if not the sleep of the just, at least without dreams.
Next day was Sunday. I only woke up as the sun was shining in my face,
and then I got up and looked around me. We were steaming along the
coast; there seemed to be nobody about but the sailors. I had a walk
about the deck and a wash at the pump. Nobody spoke to me for some time,
until the steward came and in a most natural way told me breakfast was
ready. "Good!" He is a sensible man, thought I, and I went below and had
a good meal. As soon as I had well finished, the mate came in and asked
me for my ticket. I had formed no particular plan of campaign, but I
felt so self-confident and happy, that I was perfectly convinced within
myself that it would be impossible for any one to be out of temper with
me. It is necessary to bear this in mind to believe what follows. Mirth
is catching, and is irresistible when natural, but nothing but the
genuine article will do here. So now the mate came up to me and said,
"Ticket." I laughed and cried "No ticle." He looked rather surprised at
me, and held out his hand saying, "Ticket." "Oh," cried I, laughing,
while I grasped his hand, "Ticket--oh I savey you give me ticket?"
"Oh, this won't do," said he, although I could perceive my mirth was
working on him. "Money, money or ticket"--at the same time he took out
half a crown and showed it me. I tried to take the half-crown from him
and patted him on the shoulder, saying, "Good fellow you," and when he
would not give it me, I told him he was too much gammon for me
altogether. At last I got him to laugh properly, and then he said I was
too much gammon for him too, but that now I should have to go off with
him to the captain, because he could not give me a free passage and
could make neither head nor tail of me in the bargain.
"Come on," cried he; "to the captain you go."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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