Chapter Seventeen.
The reef.
“That is good news,” I remarked, when Saunders had completed his report; “for, short-handed though we are, I think it may be possible for us to get the ship afloat again. Then if, as you, Gurney, have suggested, there happens to be a channel carrying depth enough to float us, we may yet hope to find our way into open water once more. Let us pray, however, that the channel—if such exists—does not trend to windward, unless, of course, it happens to be wide enough to work the ship in. And now, I think our first job must be to clew up and furl our canvas, otherwise, when the breeze comes—as come it may at any moment—we shall drive ashore in grim earnest, and perhaps never get afloat again.”
My two companions fully agreed with me; and accordingly, the halyards having already been let go, and the yards lowered to the caps, we let go the sheets and manned the clewlines and buntlines, first of the main and then of the fore topsail. Then we let go the fore topmast staysail halyards and hauled down the sail; finally laying out and securing it before going aloft to furl the topsails, which we tackled one at a time.
The next thing to be thought about was how to provide for the safety of the ship when the breeze should come again, as come it soon must. As the ship then lay she was heading almost exactly due east; and if the wind should happen to come away out from that quarter—which seemed to be its prevailing direction thereabout—I thought it not improbable that we might blow off the mudbank and go ashore again on the lee side of the lake, quite possibly in a very much worse position than that which we then occupied. Gurney and Saunders were quite of my opinion; and after talking the matter over for a while, we decided to get the stream anchor over the bows, in place of the one left behind at the island, bend a hawser to it, and have it all ready to let go at any moment. This we did without any difficulty, the anchor in question being of a weight not too great for the three of us to handle.
By the time that this job was ended the first signs of the coming dawn began to show themselves away to the eastward, and with one consent Gurney, Saunders, and I sprang into the main rigging and made our way aloft to the crosstrees, with the purpose of taking a good look round at our surroundings. In those low latitudes the day comes quickly, and we had not occupied our lofty perch many minutes when up leapt the sun, flashing his golden beams over the dark expanse spread out around us, and we saw, to our dismay, that we occupied a small basin—one of many such—situated almost in the exact centre of a vast reef, stretching over a distance which we roughly estimated at thirty miles from north to south, and perhaps twenty miles from east to west. The salt water that had been hove up with the reef had by this time all run off, leaving the dark, weed-covered rock fully exposed to view. Here and there, of course, owing to the exceeding roughness and irregularity of the surface, were scattered numerous pools, some small, and others of considerable extent, which must obviously soon evaporate and disappear under the influence of the sun’s beams; and the disagreeable possibility suggested itself to us all that the pool in which the Mercury floated might share the same fate. But we hoped not, for there were at least three channels, wide enough to permit the passage of the ship, leading out of our basin, stretching away across the reef, and joining other channels, until the labyrinth became too intricate for the eye to follow, and we trusted that one or more of these might lead to the open ocean.
While we still remained aloft, discussing our situation and the best means of extricating ourselves from it, a light air from the eastward arose, redolent of the mingled odours of mud and seaweed; and as a wind from this direction, if it would but come strong enough, might greatly assist our efforts to get the ship off the mudbank upon which she was partially grounded, we decided that we would at once try the effect of setting the main topsail and throwing it aback; so while Gurney and Saunders proceeded with this work, I looked about me for a suitable berth in which to moor the ship, in the event of our efforts to refloat her being crowned with success. At the height of the main topmast crosstrees it was easy for me to discern pretty clearly the character of the bottom of the basin in which we lay, and as the light increased I discovered that the mudbank which held the ship was only of very small extent, the remaining portion of the bottom being sandy, apparently of almost uniform depth below the surface of the water, and affording excellent holding ground. There was one place, however, some two hundred fathoms to the southward of the spot where the ship then lay, which seemed to be a trifle deeper than elsewhere, and I at once determined that, if we could by any means clear ourselves of the mud, I would anchor there.
By the time that I had thus decided, the other two had cast off the gaskets from the main topsail. I therefore slid down on deck by way of the topgallant backstay, and cast off the clewlines and buntlines that Saunders might overhaul them prior to coming down from aloft, and then manned the sheets, which, of course, came home easily enough, except for the last few inches, upon which I required the help of Gurney and Saunders. Then, having squared the main and topsail yard, we got the halyard to the winch, with the aid of a snatch-block, and hoisted the sail, flat aback. Gurney then went forward and loosed the fore topmast staysail ready for setting in case of need, while Saunders got the hand lead and dropped it over the side, in order that we might be able at once to detect any movement on the part of the ship.
The wind meanwhile had freshened perceptibly, and was now blowing a ten-knot breeze, the effect of which soon became perceptible, for the lead-line had not been overboard five minutes when Saunders cried out that the ship was moving. At the same moment I distinctly felt a slight tremor in the hull, followed by a barely perceptible jerk, then another, another, and another, and she was once more afloat and driving astern. I at once sprang to the wheel, and put it hard a-starboard, at the same time shouting to Gurney and Saunders to hoist the fore topmost staysail. Then, leaving the wheel to take care of itself, I sprang to the main braces, throwing the port main and topsail braces off their pins, and rounding in on the starboard as well as I could unaided. The ship had now paid off on the port tack; and as soon as the starboard fore topmast staysail sheet was hauled aft, she began to forge ahead, whereupon I rushed back to the wheel, steadied it, and called to Gurney to stand by to let go the stream anchor, and to Saunders to take a cast of the lead. The first cast gave us a bare four fathoms; the next, a trifle over four fathoms; the next, four and a half fathoms; and the next, five fathoms; whereupon I gave the word to let go the anchor and haul down the staysail, at the same time abandoning the wheel and springing to the main topsail halyard, which I let run. By the time that we had once more furled our canvas, breakfast was ready, and we all sat down to it with excellent appetites.
Having breakfasted, Gurney and I again betook ourselves aloft to the main topmast crosstrees, carrying the ship’s telescope with us, our object being to subject the reef to a thorough scrutiny, in the hope that, with the sun now high in the heavens, and the light as good as it was likely to be, we might be fortunate enough to discover a way of escape from our extraordinary prison.
As a matter of fact we did now get a much clearer and, on the whole, more satisfactory view of the reef than upon the previous occasion; but although we perceived a perfect network of channels—some so narrow as scarcely to permit the passage of a boat, while others were wide enough in places actually to allow a ship to work to windward in them—the inequalities in the surface of the reef were so great as to render it impossible for us to trace any of them for more than three or four miles at the utmost. There were four channels, wide enough to allow the passage of the ship, branching out from the basin in which we lay, one trending toward the north-east; another running off toward the north-west, and then, apparently, by a zigzag course ultimately leading to open water on the west side of the reef; a third running west out of the basin for a distance of about three miles, beyond which its farther course became untraceable; and a fourth, broad on our starboard bow, which looked the most promising of all. We counted seven pools, or lakelets, in addition and similar to our own—three to the northward, one to the eastward, two to the southward, and one to the south-westward of our own; but the one in which the Mercury floated seemed to be the largest of them all. The reef appeared to be composed wholly of rock, covered for the most part with weed, but with broad expanses of sand here and there, interspersed with mud banks; and its height above the ocean level seemed to vary from about a foot to ten or fifteen feet, with occasional isolated hummocks, rising perhaps as high in some cases as forty feet. With the aid of the telescope we were able to perceive that considerable quantities of fish had been stranded and left to perish by the sudden upheaval, and the appearance of them caused me a slight spasm of alarm on the score of our health, which was only partially dissipated by the fact, to which Gurney directed my attention, that already great flocks of sea birds had appeared and were busily devouring them.
We remained aloft for more than an hour, studying the reef and, so far as I was concerned, making copious notes and a rough sketch map of it in my notebook, and then descended to the deck, having come to the conclusion that the only thing to be done was to make a systematic exploration of the reef, and especially of the channels, by means of one of the boats.
For this purpose we selected the larger of the two quarter boats, a very handsomely modelled craft of twenty-six feet long by six feet beam, with a keel nearly eight inches deep in midships, and rigged as a fore-and-aft schooner. She had been the late captain’s fancy boat, used by him for sailing ashore from open roadsteads, and was fitted with air-chambers forward and aft and under each of the thwarts, thus being converted into a sort of unsinkable lifeboat. She was therefore in every respect eminently suitable for the duty upon which we proposed to employ her.
I was rather afraid that, upon learning our purpose, Grace Hartley might express a desire to accompany us; and this would be somewhat awkward, in view of the rough work which might possibly lie before us; but to my relief she expressed herself as perfectly content to remain aboard alone, upon being assured that no harm could possibly happen to the ship. We therefore bent the ensign on to the main signal halyards, showed her how to hoist it, and directed her to run it up to the main truck in the event of anything occurring to render our immediate return to the ship necessary. Then, having hastily stowed away a few biscuits and a piece of cold salt beef in the boat’s stern locker, and placed a small breaker of fresh water in her for ballast, we lowered her to the water, brought her to the gangway, rigged her, and got away about six bells in the forenoon watch, Grace waving her farewells to us from the poop.
We decided to begin our exploration by examining the channel which opened on the south side of the basin, as that was the widest and the most promising of the four. Accordingly, upon leaving the ship, we brought the boat close to the wind on the port tack—which just enabled her to point fair for the mouth of the channel—and at once proceeded to take soundings. But we had not been under way five minutes before we found that, under whole canvas, the boat travelled much too fast to enable us to sound with the frequency and accuracy that I considered necessary; we were consequently obliged to take in the foresail altogether, and sail the boat under the single-reefed mainsail and jib, at least during the outward journey.
Within ten minutes of leaving the ship we glided into the channel which it was our intention to explore, and found ourselves slipping along a waterway ranging from two hundred to a thousand feet in width, with an average depth of about five fathoms. The sides of the channel were very rough and irregular, its direction was also exceedingly erratic, varying from east-south-east to south by west. This irregularity of direction was the worst feature of the channel; for, with the prevailing direction of the wind at about due east, there were stretches of the channel looking so close into the wind’s eye that the ship could never be sailed through them. True, some of these stretches were so short that Gurney believed the Mercury could be carried through them by making a half-board; but this would be a somewhat hazardous experiment, unless the wind chanced to veer a point or two in our favour, while, even then, there were other stretches that could only be traversed by kedging. But, apart from this disadvantage, there was nothing to find fault with, the channel being everywhere wide enough to permit the passage of the ship, and the depth in it never less than twenty feet, with a fine sandy bottom.
We traversed this channel for a distance of about nine miles, during which the general trend of it might be said to be south-east, and then we arrived at a point where it not only widened out, but also abruptly took a south-south-west direction, to our great delight. For if the ship could by any means be coaxed as far as this, she could then proceed with a free wind. But, alas for our hopes, we had not traversed more than another mile and a half before we found ourselves in a cul-de-sac, the channel coming to an abrupt end.
This was a very severe disappointment to us, for after travelling so far, and meeting with so few difficulties, we were already beginning to congratulate ourselves upon having found a way of escape at the first attempt. However, there was no use in worrying about it, the only thing to be done was to retrace our steps and try one of the other channels.
It must not be supposed that the channel which we had thus traversed to its extremity was unbroken; on the contrary, there were several other channels branching out of it to right and left at various points in its length, two of which at least—one about three miles back, and another five miles back—had struck us as not altogether unpromising, and our idea was now to return and examine these. But before starting upon our return journey Gurney made a suggestion that was destined to exercise an extraordinary influence upon our future. As we lay hove-to in the cul-de-sac, discussing the question of what should next be done, our attention had been more than once attracted toward a large hummock of rock rising some thirty or forty feet above the general level of the reef, at no great distance from the margin of the channel; and Gurney’s proposal was that, before attempting anything else, we should land, make our way to the hummock, climb it, and ascertain whether any observations of value were to be made from its summit. The proposal had so much to commend it that it was agreed to forthwith. Laying the boat alongside the rock at a convenient spot, we all three landed, and set out to walk across the reef. The hummock in question was only some two hundred yards from the margin of the channel; we therefore soon reached it, despite the difficulty of the going, the surface of the reef proving to be exceedingly rough, and covered for the most part with weed so terribly slippery that it was positively dangerous to attempt to walk upon it. When at length we reached the summit of the rock we were not much better off; for although we could see from thence a great deal more of the reef than was to be observed from the boat, we made no discoveries that were likely to facilitate our escape.
But while we stood upon the summit of this rock, staring about us, our attention was arrested by the sight of a great brown patch, some three or four acres in extent, showing up strongly against the dull black of the otherwise weed-covered rock. Although it obviously had nothing to do with channels, or extricating the ship from her extraordinary situation, our curiosity was aroused, and we determined to pay it a visit and ascertain its character before returning to the boat. It lay some three hundred yards to the south of the hummock, and we saw that, upon returning from it to the boat, we should only need to pass close to the eastward of the hummock to hit off the correct trail.
Accordingly we descended to the surface of the reef, and headed for the mysterious brown patch, which we soon reached, some suspicion of its true character having dawned upon us, even before we arrived at the spot, from the circumstance that, as we approached, our nostrils became cognisant of a “most ancient and fish-like smell”. The suspicion that we had formed was confirmed upon our arrival by the discovery that the object of our curiosity was a great bed of oysters, hove up and exposed to the air by the convulsion of the previous night. But, fond as I am of oysters, I did not care to tackle any of these; for, apart from the fact that many of them were already dead, I did not altogether like the appearance of them. They were very much larger than the ordinary edible oyster; and to my mind they did not look quite wholesome. Saunders, however, was far less fastidious than either Gurney or me; he found one or two that, being immersed in a shallow pool of salt water, were still alive, and announced his intention of trying them. Accordingly, producing a strong clasp knife, he contrived, with some difficulty, to open one; and no sooner had he forced the shells apart than I guessed that we had all stumbled upon a fortune, in extent probably “beyond the dreams of avarice!” For as the shells parted, exposing the fish, three or four small bead-like objects became revealed, that I instantly recognised as pearls. The oysters were undoubtedly pearl oysters; and the millions of shells that lay at our feet doubtless contained gems enough to make us all rich for the remainder of our days!
Not to be behindhand with Saunders, I seized one of the bivalves, already dead and with the shells gaping apart, and tore it open; but although the shell was lined with beautiful lustrous mother-o’-pearl, it was barren of gems. Flinging this away, I tried another, and a third and fourth, with a like result; a fifth yielded nine small pearls about the size of duck shot; numbers six and seven proved barren; but the eighth surrendered to my eager grasp a magnificent pearl, perfectly globular, quite half an inch in diameter, and, when cleaned, of exquisite lustre and colour. Gurney and Saunders meanwhile had been as busily engaged as myself, and between them had secured three more gems not quite so large as mine, and about as much seed pearl as would half fill an ordinary wineglass. One of the three smaller pearls, however—secured by Gurney—amply made up in beauty what it lacked in size, for it was of a most exquisitely delicate yet rich rose colour.
“My friends,” said I, as soon as I was able to collect my scattered senses and speak intelligibly, “it is said that the darkest cloud has a silver lining, and the extraordinary accident by which we have become imprisoned in the meshes of this reef—let us hope only temporarily—has at the same time presented us with a treasure of incalculable value. I think we should be almost criminally negligent if we failed to make the utmost of our marvellous good fortune, and I therefore propose that, before we proceed further with the exploration of the reef, we take steps to secure the wealth that lies spread so lavishly at our feet. Let us take these oysters and spread them—or at least a portion of them—in rows, so that the sun may get at them and speedily bring about that state of decomposition which I understand is necessary to enable the gems they contain to be secured uninjured. And I further propose that, whatever be the value of the wealth we may ultimately secure, it be equally divided between all four of us; for it would be manifestly unfair that Miss Hartley should not equally participate in our good as in our ill fortune. What say you?”
My companions cheerfully agreed with my proposal, and, this point settled, we forthwith proceeded to collect the oysters indiscriminately from the enormous heap and lay them out singly upon the seaweed in long rows, taking care to place each bivalve quite flat, in order that, as the process of decomposition proceeded, the precious contents should not roll out and be lost. So absorbed were we in our occupation that we did not desist until the sun hung upon the very verge of the western horizon, by which time we had placed in position very nearly three thousand oysters. And not until then did we find time to remember that we had eaten nothing since leaving the ship!
Then, returning to the boat, we cleansed our hands in the water alongside, shook out our reef, set all our canvas, and headed the boat back to the ship, snatching a hasty meal as we went.