Scribner's Magazine, Volume 26, October 1899Various
History
Scribner's Magazine, Volume 26, October 1899
Various
American periodicals
the midst of the hurricane season, when even the hopeful builder and
owner of the yacht had pronounced these seas unfit for her. We ran out
of food, and were quite given up for lost in Honolulu: people had ceased
to speak to Belle[N] about the Casco, as a deadly object.
But the perils of the deep were part of the programme; and though I
am very glad to be done with them for a while and comfortably ashore,
where a squall does not matter a snuff to any one, I feel pretty sure
I shall want to get to sea again ere long. The dreadful risk I took was
financial, and double-headed. First, I had to sink a lot of money in the
cruise, and if I didn't get health, how was I to get it back? I have
got health to a wonderful extent; and as I have the most interesting
matter for my book, bar accidents, I ought to get all I have laid out
and a profit. But second (what I own I never considered till too late),
there was the danger of collisions, of damages and heavy repairs, of
disablement, towing, and salvage; indeed, the cruise might have turned
round and cost me double. Nor will this danger be quite over till I hear
the yacht is in San Francisco; for though I have shaken the dust of her
deck from my feet, I fear (as a point of law) she is still mine till
she gets there.
From my point of view, up to now the cruise has been a wonderful
success. I never knew the world was so amusing. On the last voyage we
had grown so used to sea-life that no one wearied, though it lasted a
full month, except Fanny, who is always ill. All the time our visits to
the islands have been more like dreams than realities: the people, the
life, the beach-combers, the old stories and songs I have picked up, so
interesting; the climate, the scenery, and (in some places) the women so
beautiful. The women are handsomest in Tahiti; the men in the Marquesas,
both as fine types as can be imagined. Lloyd reminds me, I have not told
you one characteristic incident of the cruise from a semi-naval point of
view. One night we were going ashore in Anaho Bay; the most awful noise
on deck; the breakers distinctly audible in the cabin; and there I had
to sit below, entertaining in my best style a negroid native chieftain,
much the worse for rum! You can imagine the evening's pleasure.
This naval report on cruising in the South Seas would be incomplete
without one other trait. On our voyage up here I came one day into the
dining-room, the hatch in the floor was open, the ship's boy was below
with a baler, and two of the hands were carrying buckets as for a fire;
this meant that the pumps had ceased working.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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