The Humour and Pathos of Anglo-Indian Life: Extracts from his brother's note-book, made by Dr. TicklemoreMayer, J. E.
General
The Humour and Pathos of Anglo-Indian Life: Extracts from his brother's note-book, made by Dr. Ticklemore
Mayer, J. E.
British -- India; India -- Social life and customs
The storm had commenced a little after the sun had gone down, and
darkness had covered everything; then the furious rain descending in
sheets of water, with lightning streams and deafening thunder, had
continued at short intervals for three hours, and the sea had got up.
Everything depended on the increase of the wind, and for two hours more
there was nothing less than the prospect of instant death present to the
minds of all on board. Shortly after midnight the violence of the storm
began to abate; the wind, instead of increasing gradually, subsided; the
rain was less like a deluge; the flashes and streams of lightning were
less frequent and less vivid; the crashes of thunder less sharp, and
evidently more distant; but the sea did not go down. Nevertheless the
magnitude and the violence of the masses of water that rose and fell
were less appalling and less frequent.
It was now about half-past two, and there was an interval in the fall of
rain (the first that had occurred). The sea no longer came sweeping over
the deck, though the spray still kept everything wet, but the worst was
over, and my brother had lain down to sleep. He was awakened by the
serang with a native compass in his hand, followed by a sailor who was
holding up a lantern to enable my brother to see the card. The vessel
had been running down the coast, not very far from shore; but now a new
peril presented itself.
The darkness was less complete, and was rapidly becoming less and less;
this change enabled the natives to perceive something white not far
ahead; they knew at once that it was the foam of breakers caused by a
reef of rocks, on which if they kept their course they would certainly
strike. They could not sail towards the land, as the coast is rock-bound
almost everywhere, and they dreaded pointing the head of the ship out to
the broad ocean. It is ever the custom with native mariners to hug the
land, so in their distress, and seeing the breakers ahead, they had
come to ask directions from their passenger, though they knew he was a
hakim and not a sailor; but such was their respect for the knowledge of
Europeans, that they thought he must know what was best to do. My
brother at once directed them, in spite of their fears, to point the
head of the brave little craft that had stood the storm so well out to
sea, and such was their confidence in his wisdom that they at once did
as he desired. Having thus avoided the rocks, and seen the head of the
vessel pointed away from land, my brother again lay down to sleep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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