A Whaleman's Wife

by Frank Thomas Bullen

All the patience possessed by this crew of good fellows was needed by them now. For while their hope was strong again, it was sickeningly deferred day after day by the lightness of the airs and the sluggishness of the vessel. Besides, as often happens in such cases, the leak, having unaccountably ceased to gain upon them, now began to increase again, although very slowly. There is something appalling in being on board ship under such conditions. Knowing the possibilities, one cannot help expecting that presently the opening through which the hungry water is forcing itself may widen out so extensively as to make the sinking of the ship a matter of minutes. This feeling of dreadful anticipation is, I am bound to say, not nearly so much warranted on board a wooden ship as it is in an iron or steel vessel, where the springing of a leak may mean the starting of one rivet in a row, which, resenting the extra strain put upon them, promptly give up their hold, and the great plate, gaping, admits the sea so fast that the hull sinks like a bottle with the bottom knocked out.

However, all hands stuck manfully by their task, and on the twelfth day from the ceasing of the hurricane they were rewarded by hearing from the masthead the joyful shout of ‘Land-ho!’ It was early morning, but so slow was the pace at which their vessel crawled towards this haven of refuge that it was nightfall before they anchored in the beautiful little bay of Mahé. And as the anchor rattled joyfully down, its clangour reverberating among the hills, all hands felt deeply grateful, and then very sad, as they thought of the brave fellows who had not been permitted to reach port with them. Then the sails were quickly furled and the decks cleared up, and a spell at the pumps was decided upon by the skipper before allowing everybody to have a long night’s rest. So after a good meal and smoke, the pumps were manned by three gangs, who relieved one another at ten minutes’ intervals until nine o’clock, by which time the water in the hold had been so much reduced that, after consultation with the carpenter, the skipper decided that except for an anchor watch of one seaman and a harpooner, all hands might go below and remain until eight bells (eight o’clock) the following morning.

When aroused, not only did they find a splendid assortment of fruit alongside, but the anchor watch had been busy fishing, and the appetising odour of fresh fish being cooked greeted their nostrils as they came on deck. It was a happy breakfast party held forward that morning. Sweet potatoes, fried fish, coffee, and soft bread, with oranges and bananas to follow, made up a meal which, after their late terrible experiences, seemed to them the richest banquet imaginable. As soon as breakfast was over, their heavy task began. First of all, they got under weigh, and worked the vessel in as near the shore as possible. Then, having moored her head and stern, they commenced operations by discharging her cargo, lowering the casks of oil into the water and towing them to the beach, where they were laboriously rolled up above high-water mark. Then, some lighters being hired, all the provisions, movable furniture, clothing, &c., were also discharged, the sails were unbent and sent ashore also, while the upper yards were sent down and floated alongside. A great raft was made ready to work upon, and then the vessel was hauled in as closely as she would go in her now empty condition to the beach, the cutting falls secured to the fore and main lower mastheads, and the two bower anchors laid out shoreward. This heavy toil occupied four days. Then came Sunday, when, comfortably housed in tents of their own rigging ashore, the weary crew enjoyed a long luxurious day’s rest, helped by a very homely service of thanksgiving conducted by the skipper.

On Monday the great work of repairing the ship’s bottom began by attaching the cutting falls to the bower anchors, leading the hauling parts ashore, and heaving the ship down upon her side until her keel was exposed. It was then found that the leak was in the garboard-strake, or the next plank to the keel, and manfully did the carpenter, the cooper, and as many of the crew as could handle a tool, attack the work of repair. Four days from sunrise to sunset were spent in this labour, then, satisfied that all was right on the starboard side, the skipper ordered the vessel to be turned round and the other side hove out for the same treatment.

It is very wonderful to consider in how few words—in a sentence, for instance, like the preceding one—can be described an enormous amount of work. A whole chapter might easily be devoted to the elucidation of the various processes necessary for the performance of this work spoken of so baldly, but I am afraid it would be far from interesting. Sufficient, perhaps, to say that these duties, involving so much painful labour, and for so long a time, are now performed in dry docks or on patent slips with a celerity and ease that, considering the bulk and weight of modern ships, would be nothing short of miraculous to a casual observer unversed in engineering feats.

Fortunately the men were all contented with as well as interested in their work. They had grown to love the ship as they had the captain and officers, and so each duty, however hard or unpleasant, was gaily performed, and apparently without half the labour expended on similar tasks by discontented men. At the expiration of a month from the time of entering Mahé the ship was again ready for sea. ‘Tight as a bottle,’ said the proud carpenter, who had worked like any three men, and, besides, had managed to teach much of his art to sailors (farmers most of them a year ago), so that they were able to assist him, not merely in sawing, hauling, or chopping, but in much more important detail work. No man had given any trouble. Loafing natives or beachcomers of doubtful nationality, skulking around for an opportunity to do mischief by purveying a peculiarly vile brand of fire-water, were sternly warned off the premises of the sailors—told to keep outside a certain area set apart as the special grounds of the men of the Xiphias.

When the work was all done, the cargo reshipped, and the Xiphias quite ready for sea, Captain Hampden called all hands aft, and said: ‘Men, I’m dredful proud of ye. Ye’ve take the last ounce out of yourselves, you’ve never given me a minute’s uneasiness, and I don’t know how to thank ye enough. But I got it in my head that as we are all ready to sail to-morrow if need be, maybe yew’d some of yew like a little run loose with some money of your own, and if so I feel that yew’re all so worthy of trust that I ought to give yew the opportunity, and I will—if yew want it. Ef not, I’ll gladly go with yew to a regular picnic down to one of these beautiful outlying beaches. We’ll take all our own provisions, we’ll cook them ourselves, every man shall amuse himself just as he likes, fishing, rambling, swimming, or what not, and we shall come aboard tired out with real enjoyment, but happy and not a cent poorer in pocket or health. Now, all those in favour of my scheme step forward—those that want to go by themselves and spend their own money remain behind.’

All hands stepped forward but two harpooners. The prospect of such a ‘Sunday School outing,’ as one of them termed it, did not appeal to them—they were men, not babies. So they went both of them together in search of what they considered to be enjoyment, while Captain Hampden and all hands, except the mate (Mr. Peck), the carpenter, and steward, left the ship on their excursion, and spent a day of unalloyed pleasure, happy as a lot of children let loose from school. And if any old sailor turns up his nose at this I would like to ask him, as an honest fellow, to tell me how much enjoyment he ever got prowling about the purlieus of a great seaport from one dirty public-house to another, always meeting the same kind of furtive-eyed loafer and blatant female, and always pounced upon by these harpies with shouts of welcome, changing into derisive curses as soon as they found he had no more money to spend on them or to give them? I have no doubt but that his answer would be that it was all sickening and exasperating in the last degree, but as long as he knew of no other way in which to spend his money and leisure, it was not his fault that he behaved as an utter idiot.

But enough of this. The two malcontents returned in the morning sadly, having had their enjoyment and looking fearfully the worse for it. No one said anything to them about their experiences, and they did not volunteer any information, but it was at least a fortnight before they had regained their healthy appearance, and a much longer time before they had lost a certain hanging of the head. This last was novel, and would not have been the case, but that they had been practically alone in their folly. And, perhaps, there was just a little of the Pharisee’s attitude in their shipmates, who, having chosen to keep out of harm’s way, were inclined to be inordinately proud of their virtue. It is this which makes so many Christians offensive, makes them shunned by those who are really penitent. They do not understand the Divine pity nor the Divine humility, much less endeavour to practise them, and so repel those whom they are professing to try and attract.

At noon that day the Xiphias sailed short-handed by the loss of those six fine men (for recruits were not to be obtained in Mahé), but well equipped again for the voyage. She now carried seven boats—five in the davits and two on the skids aft, and all repairs had been substantially carried out. As soon as she was clear of the land and heading across east for the archipelago, Captain Hampden called all hands aft, and in their presence complimented the carpenter for his noble efforts and his great skill. The Captain said that what he had done was truly above all reward, but as a mark of his appreciation he had much pleasure in handing Chips an order on the owners for $250 = £50. Chips turned brick red, fidgeted, shuffled, and finally said, ‘Thankee, sir.’ More than that he could not say—he was one of those doers who cannot talk. But the men cheered him to the echo, and another kindly link in the chain which bound all hands was forged.