In these doldrums, of which a steamer is of course quite independent, a sailing ship may lie for weeks—
“Day after day, day after day,
And neither breath nor motion,
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.”
The sea has a glazed or greasy appearance, and but very little life is visible, except an occasional whale ploughing his solitary way through the silent and mysterious ocean; or from aloft at times you may witness a great patch of the water rippled as with rain-drops and sparkling with silver. This is caused by shoals—myriads and millions—of tiny fishes, a species of whitebait.
Or you may see the great black fin of a basking shark, high above the water, and in shape not unlike the upright hand of a sundial; and on these fins you may observe a beautiful seagull or two perching, and pitching also. Perhaps Mr. Shark likes it.
But there may be seen many sharks about and around the ship as well as these others, that if you fell into the water would disappear in all directions for a few seconds, but return in force, each one endeavouring to win the race and be the first to seize you. A man is often thus rent into ribbons by these tigers of the sea.
Great banks of rock-like towers roll up and lie on the horizon all night long. Seldom do you hear thunder muttering among these, but the play of the lightning behind them is incessant, so that in the darkest night their shape and form are easily made out. Sometimes the sea is splendidly phosphorescent. If you drop a piece of coal overboard, it seems like a lump of living, whirling fire sinking down, down into the unfathomable depths of the ocean. Even sharks themselves and other strange fishes stir up the phosphorescence, and dart about like fiery serpents.
By night flying fishes constantly flew on board, and flopped about the deck till pussy caught one, and the watch picked up the others.
Most tender and delicious tit-bits they are for breakfast, the taste and flavour being somewhat like that of a herring, only more delicate.
. . . . . .
Wishing to get on his voyage, Captain Antonio Garcia (pronounce Gartsia, please) ordered the boats out, and the ship was thus towed pretty nearly all day long.