The First Mate: The Story of a Strange Cruise

by Harry Collingwood

At the first outburst of flame I instinctively sprang to the wheelhouse and ordered the dazed and terrified quartermaster to put his helm hard a-port, and let the ship sweep round in a complete half-circle, so that we might get away from the dangerous spot as speedily as possible. But we had hardly begun to turn, in response to our hard-over helm, before dense clouds of steam commenced to rise from the water round about the flame; and these soon obscured it to such an extent that the glare, which at first was almost as strong as daylight, rapidly dwindled until it became merely a great shapeless luminous blotch, growing less and less brilliant until we lost sight of it altogether as we went at full speed ahead away from it. But it was quite a quarter of an hour before we were fairly clear of the extraordinary danger that had so suddenly leaped up in our path; and within the first minute following the explosion great masses of incandescent rock mingled with flaming cinders began to fall about us on all sides, so that I regard it as nothing short of a miracle that none of the larger masses fell upon our decks. Had they done so, we must inevitably have been destroyed. As it was, we were kept busy with the hose for fully half an hour extinguishing the cinders that fell upon our deck.

Not the least remarkable circumstance connected with the phenomenon was that soon after we started the pumps the water rapidly became so hot that the men could not bear the contact of it upon their bare feet, and were obliged to don their sea boots hurriedly. At first we were fearful that the dense clouds of steam generated by the flame would spread and overtake us; but we were spared this, for almost immediately a small breeze sprang up, blowing toward the fire, and as we advanced it strengthened until it became quite a stiff breeze. To this circumstance I attribute the fact that none of our sails were set on fire by the falling cinders, for it necessitated the hurried clewing up and furling of all our canvas.

For a full hour we travelled south at full speed; and then, having apparently run beyond the limit of the danger zone, we shifted our helm and headed east until daylight, when, perceiving no sign of the eruption, and the wind having drawn round from the eastward, we set our canvas and stopped the engine. A week later we arrived at Hong-Kong without further adventure, and were amazed to learn that nothing was known there of the submarine volcanic outburst—for such, of course, it was—from which we had so narrowly escaped destruction. Nor, although we remained a week in the roadstead, during which several craft arrived from the south, and two from the Philippines, could we learn that any others than ourselves had beheld the phenomenon.

Before our arrival at Singapore it had been Mrs Vansittart’s intention to proceed from that port to Manila, she being somewhat curious to see something of the United States’ farthest East possession on our way north. But the United States’ consul at Singapore had very strongly dissuaded her from making such a visit; we therefore skipped the Philippines, and, after spending a week at Hong-Kong, during which the saloon party made a trip to Canton and back, weighed and stood out of the harbour en route for Yokohama.

We had a good run up through the China Sea, doing the trip in ten days from port to port without being obliged to use the engine at all. Arrived in the magical land of the chrysanthemum, our lady skipper “spread herself”, as she graphically expressed it, devoting a full month to the exploration of the country, and returning to the ship loaded down with priceless treasures of porcelain, pictures, carving and lacquer work, mostly designed as presents for her more stay-at-home friends in “little old N’York”, when she should get back. Of course her children went with her, and Monroe, equally of course, “went along” as escort.

While Mrs Vansittart and her party were enjoying themselves the crew also had an opportunity to see something of what many regard as the most wonderful country and people in the world, the same generous rule with regard to shore leave prevailing here as elsewhere. For myself, I did not see nearly as much of the country as I should have liked, for it unfortunately happened that at the time of our visit the relations between Japan and the United States were somewhat strained in connection with the settlement of Japanese subjects on United States soil, and the Stars and Stripes was not altogether welcome in Japanese ports. Indeed, within the first week of our arrival in Yokohama harbour we had reason to suspect that a malicious attempt had been made either to damage or to destroy the yacht; and as she was in my charge during the owner’s absence I did not care to leave her for more than a day at a time—and only once as long as that. But of course it must be understood that such ill feeling as undoubtedly existed was only openly manifested by private persons, and those almost entirely of the lower classes. Official Japan was the very essence of politeness and urbanity whenever we came into contact with it.

There was just one element of regret for Mrs Vansittart in her visit to Japan, and that was the unfortunate fact that Monroe developed typhoid on the very day of the party’s return to Yokohama, and had to be left behind in hospital. She would most willingly have prolonged her stay until the patient’s recovery; but Harper, our doctor, intervened, pointing out that, since our next cruise was to be among the Pacific Islands, it would be most inadvisable for a person newly recovered from typhoid to accompany us, as a relapse would almost certainly follow; and that the better plan would be to arrange for Monroe’s return home direct by mail boat via ’Frisco. This was accordingly done, Mrs Vansittart making every arrangement for the care and comfort of the patient during his sojourn in Yokohama, and his journey to New York in all ease and comfort afterward, before giving the word for our departure.

We hove our anchor out of the mud of Yokohama harbour at ten o’clock on a certain lovely September morning, which, as Mrs Vansittart informed me incidentally, happened to be the anniversary of the yacht’s departure from New York. Starting our engine, we proceeded down Yedo Bay, through Uraga Strait, and so to sea, passing Cape Mela about eight bells in the afternoon watch. Then, to a fine spanking westerly breeze, we set all plain sail and headed south for the Ladrones.

I arrive now at a point where, for a space of over two months, I find no entry in my diary of any incident worthy of special mention; this period may therefore be dismissed with the simple remark that it was spent in visiting several of the most interesting islands in the Pacific archipelago.

We sailed from Taputeuea, in the Gilbert Group, in the middle of November, and for more than a week we headed west, making good headway on the whole, although there were times when we were detained by vexatious calms, to counterbalance which we “carried on” when the wind favoured us and we had a clear sea ahead.