The moment the crew stepped on dry land, every man, with the exception of the mate, deserted the ship, thoroughly satiated with the uncertainty pertaining to watching the Diamond Shoals. They indulged in a hearty carousal, and were arrested. And the captain, who also was not averse to enjoyment on shore, having lodged the charge of mutiny, followed their example. An inquiry was held, and the sequel is interesting. The captain, having deserted his ship upon reaching port, was dismissed from the service; the mate, who had provoked the captain, not only was acquitted of the grave charge, but was promoted to the command of the light-vessel, because there was one outstanding feature in his favour which negatived everything else—he had stuck to his post.
Life on a lightship, although somewhat strenuous, has its interludes. In fine weather the men have considerable time on their hands, and while away the hours in various occupations. Fretwork, mat-making, carpentering, and other hobbies, are followed with keen enjoyment. Owing to the light attracting flocks of birds during the migratory seasons, the men often effect valuable captures on the deck, rare songsters and other specimens falling exhausted into their hands. Cages are contrived, and the silence of the living-quarters is relieved by the piping and trilling of the birds when once they have shaken down to their captivity. Meteorological work, which is practised in some cases, relieves the round of toil, while contributions to science are made by investigating the depths of the sea and its bed with small trawls and other devices, so as to secure data concerning life in the deep, the vagaries of currents, submarine temperatures, and so forth.
The lightship, however, is both a safeguard and a menace. When she is riding quietly at the end of her chains she is an incalculable boon to the passing mariner, but after a gale the navigator and the light-keepers are suspicious. The boat may, and indeed probably has, dragged her anchors somewhat. Now, the seafarer on his chart has the precise position which the lightship should occupy. Consequently, if she has shifted and he is unaware of the error, his calculations will lead him astray. After a tempest the master of a lightship endeavours to ascertain if his craft has moved, and if he can he takes his bearings at once. If this is impossible, or if he entertains any doubt in his mind, he flies a signal, which warns the navigator that the lightship has moved. Unless the vessel is able to regain her station under her own steam, she communicates with the shore at once, and a boat is sent out to reset her. Every time the relief is effected the officer in charge takes the bearings, so that the lightship may be truly in the position she is intended to assume, and able to effect her humane work satisfactorily.
The evolution of the most efficient illuminating apparatus for the lightship has been a most perplexing problem to the lighthouse engineer. What is applicable for the masonry tower is not necessarily adapted to its floating contemporary, since the conditions are so dissimilar. The United States service has adopted electric lighting on all its steam-driven vessels, the current being easily obtainable in this instance. On the whole, however, oil is the most popular form of illuminant, the burners—there are several lamps arranged in a ring round the mast—being fitted with two circular wicks, one within the other; while behind the lamp an ordinary parabolic reflector is placed in order to increase the intensity of the light produced. These reflectors are disposed in such a manner around the mast that the concentrated beam of light from one lamp just overlaps the rays which are projected similarly from the lamp placed on either side, the result being that a fixed white light of equal luminosity throughout the circle is projected. But, unlike the illuminant in the lighthouse, the light is not stationary in its vertical plane; it is swung from side to side and up and down in rhythm with the movement of the vessel. Under these circumstances, at one moment the light would project a short ray owing to the declination of the beam in relation to the line of the water, thereby bringing it below the horizon, while the next moment, when the ship lurched in the opposite direction, the ray of light would be thrown into the air and above the horizon. The problem is to keep the light at one steady angle, irrespective of the motion of the vessel, and this end is achieved by hanging each reflector upon gimbals, so that the rolling practically is counteracted, the reflectors maintaining a constant vertical position.
Some lights are of the flashing type, and in this instance the reflectors are disposed in groups. Here the gimbals, carrying the reflectors, are mounted upon the framework which revolves around the mast by clockwork mechanism, and are so arranged as to give any type of distinguishing flash that may be desired. In the most approved types of modern lightships, however, the dioptric apparatus is incorporated, means having been discovered to avoid breakage from the rolling motion of the ship, while the risk of throwing the beam above or below the horizon according to the rolling of the boat is overcome. In this case the lamps and reflectors are disposed on a turntable in the lantern, with the dioptric apparatus mounted very carefully so as to secure a true balance upon gimbals. The apparatus for revolving the light is erected in a deck-house, the weight actuating the mechanism being permitted to rise and fall in a special tube extending from the bottom of the ship to the deck. The rotary action thus produced is transmitted from the deck to the lantern above by means of a vertical shaft and pinion. While ordinary lamps are installed as a rule in the lanterns, Messrs. Chance Brothers and Co., the Birmingham lighthouse illuminating engineers, have succeeded in adapting their incandescent oil-vapour system, which has proved so eminently successful in lighthouses, to light-vessels, with a very decided increase in the candle-power, and marked economy in oil consumption and cost of upkeep.
CHAPTER XX
A FLAMING SENTINEL OF THE MALACCA STRAITS
With the development of commerce between Europe, China, and Japan, following the awakening of the East, it became imperative to render the seas approaching these countries far safer to navigation. If one consults the atlas, and follows the routes taken by the great liners from Britain and the Continent to the Orient, he will see a rampart forming the boundary between the Indian Ocean and the South China Sea. This is the East Indian Archipelago, and it bristles with dangers of all descriptions to the mercantile traffic flowing to and fro. After leaving India, the steamships turn their noses towards Singapore, at the extremity of the Malay Peninsula; but this busy port is shut in on the south by the attenuated rocky chain of islands forming the Dutch East Indies, of which Sumatra and Java are the most important.
The steamship lane lies between Sumatra and the Asian mainland, and is known as the Straits of Malacca. It is a fearsome neck of water, studded with islands and sandbanks, some visible above high-water, others revealed only by the falling tide; while still more never see daylight at all, yet owing to their shallow position are none the less perilous.