The Gold Diggings of Cape Horn: A Study of Life in Tierra del Fuego and PatagoniaSpears, John Randolph
History
The Gold Diggings of Cape Horn: A Study of Life in Tierra del Fuego and Patagonia
Spears, John Randolph
Patagonia (Argentina and Chile) -- Description and travel
As we rounded the turn in the bend of the channel below the docks the
pilot (a member of the ship's staff) ordered the quartermaster to right
the wheel immediately after the captain had ordered it hard over, and
the result was that we had to anchor to avoid grounding. Later still in
the long channel leading to the roadstead the pilot did the same thing
again. We were steaming along with a stiff breeze over the starboard
bow, while the steamer's nose was high out of water. In two minutes more
we were skating along over Rio Plate mud outside the channel, and the
upshot was that we had to call two tugs, which eventually towed us stern
first into the channel once more. Having had some experience with ship
captains, I was simply astounded when I found that this one did not
swear at the pilot for running the ship out of the channel; why, he did
not even remonstrate. He simply lighted a fresh cigarette and bowed his
thanks to the tug captains.
That afternoon the stiff breeze became a gale, and some of the
passengers looked with nervous apprehension at the spars of three
different wrecked ships that we passed, but it appeared from the
behavior of our steamer that she was a remarkable sea boat. Although but
one hundred and sixty feet long and about thirty-five broad, she rolled
so little in the sea that no racks were needed on the table when dinner
was served. In fact, the few of us not seasick had a very pleasant time
at the meal, for we had plenty of room.
Night brought new matters of interest. In spite of the storm it was a
warm, oppressive night, and the air of the cabin would have been
stilling even with the companionway wide open. The seasick ones wanted
the doors closed, and so they were closed. Worse yet, I had chosen one
of the after state-rooms because it had only two bunks. It had neither
port-hole nor skylight nor window of any kind. The door was small, and
it fitted the doorway, I thought, closer than any other two parts of the
cabin fitted each other. When shut my room was hermetically sealed. My
room-mate was very seasick and in a chill. Would I be so kind as to keep
the door closed? There was but one answer. I had to say it would afford
me great pleasure to do so. Reeking with perspiration I stripped, got
into night clothes, and turned down the bedding, and found both sheets
and blanket moister from the humidity of the air than the shirt I had
discarded.
Although not wishing to anticipate my story, I may say I never saw the
bedding a whit drier during the nine long weeks I was on board.
Morning came with surprises also. I was out early, but I had scarcely
completed my toilet when one of the four gentlemen in the room forward
of mine appeared and said:
"Will you make to me the favor of to permit me myself to wash in your
room? The wash-bowl there in ours is broken."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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