Looking Seaward Again

by Baron Walter Runciman Runciman

The decision of the captain was irrevocable, in spite of the persuasive eloquence of a deputation of the crew and engineers. So, after passing the Burlings, orders were given to cut the bales, save the packing, and shovel the tobacco overboard. This very nearly caused open revolt, but the captain made a few tactful statements which had good effect. He presented a case that could not be controverted, and they yielded to the inevitable. The jettisoning commenced with bad grace, and a continual growl was kept up until the captain himself was overcome by the sight of the beautiful tobacco being thrown away. He called a halt, after persuading himself that a new idea might be presented to the mind as time went on, which would show how a profit could be made without risking any vital interest; but this only endured for a couple of days. No really sound idea came, and so the work of destruction was resumed until only half a dozen bales were left, and it was resolved to hold these whatever happened. The mate was a sailor of the old school, and clung to the grog and tobacco traditions of the eighteenth century. He might have forgiven the purveyors of defective food, but if bad grog and tobacco were supplied there was no forgiveness for that, here or hereafter! He believed in the crew being served with grog whenever they were called upon to do extra work, such as shortening sail or setting it, and although he never allowed smoking when on duty, or expectoration on the quarter-deck, a skilful seaman was all the more popular with him if he chewed. His opinion was that they did better work, and more of it, when they rolled a quid about in their mouths. If his attention was called to a small boy who was practising the habit, a pride-of-race smile would come into his face, and his laughing eyes indicated the joy it was giving him. Then he would say, "Thank God, the race is not becoming extinct. I have always hope of a youngster turning out satisfactorily if he works well and chews well." As a matter of fact, his conviction was that a boy or man who adopted the practice did so instinctively because they were born sailors, and were true types of British manhood. Indeed, he regarded manhood as strictly confined to his own class, though on many occasions I have seen volcanic evidences of shattered faith. It was not so much the money value of the tobacco, but the racial affection he had for it that caused him to feel indignant at the suggestion of it being thrown to the waves.

The second day subsequent to this conflict, it was the first mate's afternoon watch below. He had partaken of his midday meal, and went to the bridge to have a smoke. As he looked down at the bales of goods, he said to the second mate—

"However the thought of destroying that beautiful stuff can have entered the mind of man I cannot fathom. I think I have got him persuaded to leave well alone. It must be nothing short of stark lunacy."

And the two men were agreed that had their captain been as short of it as they had been one time and another he would not talk such foolishness. The chief mate intimated that he was going to have a nap, but that his mind was torn with presentiment which he could not speak about calmly. At four o'clock when he came on deck he was made aware of what had taken place during his watch below, whereupon he lapsed into a kind of inarticulate stupor, and could not speak the unutterable. He placed his right hand on his brow, and then on his left breast, and stood gazing at the long Atlantic rollers, which had the appearance of an uneven reef of rocks. The stage of stupor and grief was superseded by that of resigned indignation. He plaintively called out—

"Well, I'll—be—teetotally—d——d! Miles of sea to be paved with that beautiful tobacco! Retribution will come to somebody; and, by thunder! it should come with a clattering vengeance. I will never forget the sight as long as I have breath."

The captain came up to him, and seeing that his mind was centred on what he regarded as not only a calamity but a crime, he was so much amused at his ludicrously pathetic appearance that he laughingly repeated—

"Oh, for the touch of a vanished hand, and the sound of a voice that is still."

The inappropriate words were merely used as a piece of chaff, but Mr. S—— was not in a chaffing mood, so he retorted that he did not see where the humour came in, and there was nothing to laugh at, and so on. He then walked on to the bridge, and he and the captain were not on friendly speaking terms any more during the voyage.

At midnight on the sixth day after parting company from the Spaniards, the vessel was hove to to take a pilot aboard. Captain S—— took him aside as soon as he boarded, and asked him in an undertone if he ever did anything in the contraband line. He held up his hands as though he were horrified at the suggestion, and exclaimed—

"Not for the world, captain!"