From this emporium of teak, I went down to the docks, where I spent a considerable time. The art of ship-building has, from boyhood upwards, ever exercised a peculiar fascination over me; and only very recently I designed a five-foot model of a steamer, which I hope, ere long, to build with that most excellent of antipodean woods, the cowry pine, the chief characteristics of which are close grain and elasticity.
There were a number of fair sized vessels in different stages of construction, others in course of repair.
Chinamen predominated, as might have been expected, among the carpenters, and they certainly appeared to me to take matters remarkably easy. I neglected to inquire whether they were paid by time or by work accomplished; if the latter, their earnings must have been insignificant.
What they undertake, however, is done well; though slow and easy going, they are on occasion painstaking, accurate and steady.
The practice of opium-smoking may induce lethargy, but not impairment of the faculties as with alcohol.
One vessel, which was just receiving the finishing touches, looked so trim that I was tempted on board, and her recent history was of a nature to open my eyes to certain phases of the ways of man, of which I had previously been totally ignorant.
About six weeks before, she had sailed with a large cargo of timber, but had not proceeded far when she was discovered to be extremely leaky, and everything was made ready in case she should founder. On one occasion indeed the crew took to the boats, but as it became evident that the buoyancy of her cargo would keep her afloat, she was again boarded and brought back for repairs. The individual who took upon himself to acquaint me with these thrilling facts expressed such unconcealed disgust at the way in which she had floated when she ought to have sunk—“She’d a’ been worth a load more at the bottom!”—conjured up visions of a snug insurance, and on reading between the lines, I found it unnecessary to inquire into the origin of the leak!
Taking leave of my very outspoken companion, I emerged from the docks a sadder, yet a wiser man, than I had entered them. Already, in the old days, Shylock arrived at certain practical conclusions anent “land-rats and water-rats, and the peril of waters, winds and rocks,” but such calculated villainy as the above is one of the fruits of the grand march of civilization.
The sight of all others, upon which the good people of this place above all prided themselves, was that of the “Caves,” and I firmly believe that my newly-acquired friends and hospitable entertainers were rather nettled at my electing to visit the timber-yard and docks first. But the horizon soon cleared, when my friend and self arranged to go there on the morrow. Although not far off, they were difficult of approach at this season of the year, owing to the intervening expanse of water that had to be traversed, for the caves were located in some rocks that stood in the midst of that element.
Our intention evidently pleased our host, for besides a whole volume of instructions and warnings, every preparation was made for our comfort, and we started after breakfast with a hamper large enough for six, an extra coat apiece, an umbrella and a supply of torches. A Madrassee Jehu drove us through two or three miles of country under-timber, until we brought up at the edge of a swamp. Here occurred a pause of half an hour, after which a Burmese, who had sallied forth in quest of his elephant, returned with it.