We had been in bathing one day, and nearly all of us had climbed aboard, when our sergeant at arms, who was seated as usual upon the ship’s rail upon the shady side, where he could obtain a good view of the ship’s keel, was heard to cry out to those who were yet in the water, but who were, however, near the ship, and just upon the point of climbing on board.
“Quick! quick boys, for God’s sake! A shark! A shark!”
Upon looking over the side, we saw an enormous shark beneath the keel. He spied the last man who was in the water, and darted towards him. The man, however, had reached the ladder, and was soon out of danger. The shark, turning upon its back with open mouth, darted towards him, but was too late, for just at this time its career was ended. The captain who was in the cabin, heard the cry of shark, and having been a short time before sailing engaged in whale-fishing, was prepared for such an emergency. Seizing his favorite weapon, which was a harpoon all ready for use, and to which was attached a long wooden pole, suspended from ropes over head in a convenient place, he jumped upon the rail, and as the shark’s head with open mouth projected above the water with a true aim darted the harpoon into its body. The huge fish was hoisted on board, and found upon measurement to be about fifteen feet in length. What a mouth, when opened! I was reminded of it years afterwards, in passing a Mendicino Co. saw-mill, with its gang of saws all in a row, ready for business. This incident ended our pleasures of sea-bathing.
But now was the old salt’s opportunity to spin a yarn that would discount anything in the shark line, and he made the most of it. Seated upon the fore hatch, toward evening, and after taking a fresh quid he sailed in:
“Well, well! me lads, that’s a big shark; but I can tell about one that discounts him. ’Twas when I was sailing on an English packet ship in the Indian Ocean, bound for the East Indies. We had an opera company on board, bound for Calcutta.
“We were running along one day with a stiff breeze, and the
passengers were all enjoying themselves up on deck, when all at once there was a cry of man overboard. An old gentleman, one of the musicians, was seated on the lee rail a readin’, when the ship give a lurch, and away he went over the side. His son was standing near at hand, and hauling off his coat, over the side he went, to rescue his father. The ship was brought up into the wind; a boat was lowered, and blast my eyes if we didn’t cruise about in our ship’s wake for more than four hours to get a sight of the old gentleman and his son. But we searched in vain, for they had gone; only, we couldn’t tell how, just then. We did though, pretty soon; for a few days after we saw a big shark following in our wake. He was a regular man-eater, and we knew from the antics he was cutting up, that he had swallowed the old musician and his son sure enough, and was huntin’ for the balance of the opera company. Why, shipmates, the shark would jest promenade around ship, standing upon his tail; then he would balance fore and aft on his head, and go through the figures of a quadrille in good style. One of the opera boys said that the old musician was a tough customer, and maybe the shark had the colic. Another one thought that maybe he had been chasin’ a French ship, and had swallowed a French dancin’ master who had fell overboard. But we soon found out all about it, for it happened that the shark came nearer to the ship than he intended to, and one of the crew threw a harpoon into him, and we histed him on deck to have a look at him. Jest as we were gettin’ ready to throw him overboard again, one of the opera boys says ‘hush! what’s that strange noise comin’ from inside of him?’ Well, we all heard it, and to satisfy our curiosity we cut him open, and maybe, shipmates, you won’t believe me when I tell you what we seen. But right in there was the old musician, sittin’ at a pianner and playin’ the Fisher’s Hornpipe, and laying in a hammock overhead was his son, beatin’ time on a base drum.”
There is consolation in the thought that, under whatever circumstances we may be placed that are of an unpleasant nature, all things, states and conditions have an ending. In the operations of Nature’s forces, man, by his ingenuity, can direct them for his use, but cannot control. During a gale of wind, for instance, the ship, by means of the sails and rudder, can be changed or altered in her course, and at such a time how insignificant man appears in comparison with the force and power of the elements, which are far beyond his absolute control! Yet, even when the elements are in active motion, they can be made serviceable by using the proper means; but when Nature’s forces are entirely passive and the elements are at rest, it is then that man is made conscious of his utter insignificance, especially if he is on board of a sailing vessel which is floating about at random upon the ocean in a dead calm. At such a time he has no control whatever over the elements above, or of the waters below, and the vessel drifts at random in whatever direction the currents are flowing. She rises and falls with the swell of the ocean, and her sails are continually flapping against the mast as an encouragement to her patience, or as a means of quieting her anxiety. The bows, also, exhibit their intense anxiety by swinging around the circle like a chained bear, in the vain endeavor to break away from the influence of such unpleasant conditions; but the only object on board which does not conform to the random motions of the vessel, and remained, fortunately for us, constant to the forces which gave it value, was the needle in the binnacle.
The end was near, however, for upon the morning of the 14th day, away off in the distance, toward the west, was discovered a cat’s paw, a ripple upon the water, crawling silently but surely towards us upon the surface of the waters. It crawled carefully up the side of the ship, up into the rigging; and the great sails, which had been idly flapping for many days against the mast, now feel the effects of its magic influence, and, swelling with pride, endeavor to move the ship forward upon her course. The wheel, also, which for several days had been neglected and alone, lazily swinging from one side to the other, nodding and blinking beneath the scorching rays of the sun, was now aroused from its slumbers by the strong arm of a sailor, and, responding to his efforts, the bows of the ship swing gracefully around upon our course for the entrance to the Golden Gate with a fair wind, which increased with such force in a few hours that it was evident we had not only received the benefit of a cat’s paw, but that the whole animal had crawled on board, tail and all.