Sarréo / 1901

Well, there's niggers an' niggers, some just as good as any white man, said Mr. Thomas Potter as he, the second mate of the island-trading barque Reconnaisance , and Denison the supercargo, walked her short, stumpy poop one night, though when I was before the mast I couldn't stand one of 'em bunking too close to me—not for a long time. But after awhile I found out that a Kanaka or a Maori is better than the usual run of the paint-scrubbing Jack Dog who calls himself a sailorman nowadays. Why, I've never seen a native sailor yet as was dirty in his habits—they're too fond o' the water. Look at these Rotumah chaps aboard here—if there's a calm they'll jump overboard and take a swim instead of turning in when it's their watch below. Bah, white sailors ain't worth feeding in this Island trade—lazy, dirty, useless brutes; a Kanaka is worth three of any one of 'em. Did you notice that photograph in my cabin—that one showing a ship's company standing on deck?
Yes, I did, replied Denison.
Well, that's the crew of the Fanny Long , and amongst 'em is a fellow I'm goin' to tell you about—a chap named Sarréo. We had that picture taken in Hobart after we had come back from a sperm whaling cruise. We had been very lucky, and the skipper and owners had all our photographs taken in a group. I was second mate, and this Sarréo was one of the boatsteerers. Him and me had been shipmates before, once in the old Meteor barque, nigger-catching for the Fiji planters, and once in a New Bedford sperm whaler, and he had taken a bit of a liking to me, so whenever I got a new ship he generally shipped too.
Well, I was tired of whaling; I had two ribs broke on that cruise in the Fanny Lang , by a boat being stove in by a whale. So after I had got my money I walked out of the office, thinking of going to Sydney by the steamboat, when up comes Sarréo.
'Got your dollars, Sarréo?' I says.
'Yes,' he answers. 'What you goin' to do now, Mr. Potter?'
'Going to Sydney to look for another ship.'