The untimely death of poor Kennedy resulted in my being promoted to the position of first mate of the Stella Maris, young as I was; while the boatswain, who knew nothing of navigation, but was an excellent seaman, was temporarily given the post of second mate, until someone more suited to the position could be found.
At ten o’clock in the morning following our brush with the Malays the hands were mustered for church parade, as on Sundays, and Kennedy’s body was committed to the deep with all solemnity. Monroe read the burial service so impressively that even the lad Julius was visibly affected, while Mrs Vansittart and her daughter—both of them attired in black for the occasion—wept freely. Three days later we arrived in Singapore, and on the following day the yacht was docked for examination and the fitting of the spare propeller.
Upon examination the hull was found to be quite undamaged, yet we must have hit the wreckage, or whatever it was that we ran foul of, a pretty severe blow, for not only was the weed completely scoured off the ship’s bottom where contact had occurred, but the anti-fouling composition had also been removed as effectually as though a scraper had been employed.
We stayed at Singapore exactly a week, and then, with bottom scraped clean, two fresh coats of anti-fouling composition applied, the outside of the hull, up to the level of the rail, repainted, and our spare propeller fitted, we sailed for Hong-Kong. It was Mrs Vansittart’s intention to ship a second and a third mate at Singapore; but she forbore to do so, no suitable men happening to be available during our stay. The temporary arrangement was therefore allowed to stand a little longer, our lady skipper hoping to find what she required at Hong-Kong.
We went to sea in fine weather, and made excellent but uneventful progress during the first four days of the trip. Then, on our fourth night out, when we were in the neighbourhood of the Vanguard Bank, the wind fell light, and finally died away, leaving us becalmed, very much as had happened with us in the Strait of Malacca. This time, however, there was neither land nor craft in sight, and we were therefore under no apprehension of a repetition of our experiences on that occasion. I ought, by the way, to have stated that upon our arrival at Singapore we duly reported our adventure to the authorities, with the result that the British gunboat Cormorant was dispatched to the scene of the outrage. But we were given to understand that it would probably prove exceedingly difficult, if not impossible, to lay hands upon the guilty parties; and as a matter of fact we afterwards learned that the only result of the Cormorant’s visit to the spot was the discovery of a considerable quantity of wreckage and several dead bodies floating about.
As I have said, the wind began to drop late in the afternoon of our fourth day out from Singapore, and by eight bells of the second dog-watch we had lost steerage way. As soon as this happened the matter was reported to Mrs Vansittart, and I enquired whether she wished the engine to be started; but she replied that she was in no especial hurry to reach Hong-Kong, and therefore, as there was no particular reason for pushing on, she would not waste gasoline. The engine was therefore permitted to remain inactive, but we furled all our light canvas, to save wear and tear, and hauled up our courses, leaving the ship under topsails, topgallant sails, and jib.
The fact is that none of us quite knew what to make of the weather. The glass stood fairly high, with a rising rather than a falling tendency, yet the sky was hazy without being exactly overcast. Nor, considering where we were, was the weather particularly hot; the atmosphere, however, seemed surcharged with damp, although no rain fell. With the going down of the sun it fell exceedingly dark, for the moon was far advanced in her last quarter, and did not rise until very late—or rather in the early morning—while the haze was thick enough to shut out the light of the stars effectually. The water was smooth, excepting for a low, easterly swell to remind us of the breeze that had died away.
It chanced to be my eight hours in that night, and, as had become a firmly-established custom on such occasions, I was dining with the saloon party, with all of whom, excepting Julius, I was now upon excellent terms. Mrs Vansittart had graciously listened to my explanation of, and accepted my apologies for, the colossal liberty I had taken in suggesting that she should be locked in her cabin on the memorable night of the piratical attack upon us; and not only had she freely forgiven me, but I believe that, after I had fully explained the motives which actuated me, she felt almost inclined to admit that I was to a certain extent justified. Possibly she would have admitted this but for the fact that such an admission might have been subversive of discipline. Monroe and I had always got on splendidly together; and even the once haughty Miss Anthea had at length thawed completely, even to the extent of singing duets with me and playing my accompaniments while I sang or fiddled. It was only the boy whom I seemed utterly unable to placate; he had taken a violent dislike to me from the very first, and not even the fact that I had undoubtedly saved his life seemed to make any apparent difference in his attitude toward me.
Since leaving Singapore we had resumed our musical evenings after dinner, temporarily interrupted by Kennedy’s death, and we were enjoying ourselves as usual on the evening of which I am now speaking when, while I was playing a violin solo to Miss Anthea’s accompaniment, we were all startled by a sudden but very slight jarring sensation, as though the ship had lightly touched the ground for a moment. I knew that we were in the neighbourhood of the Vanguard, Prince Consort, and Prince of Wales Banks, and although I also knew that, according to our position as determined that afternoon, and the course and distance since run, we ought to be far enough away from them to be perfectly safe, the thought for a moment seized me that in some extraordinary and wholly unaccountable manner we might have been mistaken. Flinging down my violin, I rushed out on deck, closely followed by Mrs Vansittart and Monroe.
On reaching the deck I found that the jar had already created quite a small commotion, the boatswain’s watch being all on the alert, while the hands below, awakened by the unaccustomed sensation, were swarming up to learn what had happened. Parker, the boatswain, was shouting for one hand to bring along the hand lead, and to another to bring a lighted lantern.