The Strange Adventures of Eric Blackburn

by Harry Collingwood

Caught in a Typhoon.

Those who have never enjoyed the experience of suddenly coming upon a treasure of enormous value, a substantial share of which one knows will one day be one’s own, will naturally suppose that the crew of the Yorkshire Lass would be one of the happiest and most contented little communities on the face of the earth. And assuredly they ought to have been, in so far at least as the prospective possession of great wealth can confer happiness; for, little as any of us knew of the actual value of the treasure we had so easily obtained, we knew enough to feel assured that, when the time for division should arrive, we should each be rich enough to be independent, for the rest of our lives, of any need to work for a living. But, on the contrary, as a matter of fact the acquisition of the treasure gave rise to a condition of restiveness and discontent that caused me grave uneasiness.

Not that I was greatly surprised. From the moment when I first climbed in over the brigantine’s rail from the Saturn’s life-boat I recognised that the presence of the four Dagoes in the ship’s company was likely to breed discord, but it was not until I witnessed the mad covetousness with which they flung themselves upon the chest containing coin, and proceeded to help themselves regardless of the rights of us others, that I actually began to scent real, serious trouble; for I then foresaw that, having once glimpsed the treasure, those men would never more be content until it was actually theirs to squander in the debauchery that they called pleasure.

The trouble which I anticipated developed within twenty-four hours of our departure from the estuary, first taking the form of a demand, on the part of the six seamen in the forecastle, that the division of the treasure should be effected forthwith; and when I pointed out that, owing to the impossibility of justly valuing such articles as gold and silver candlesticks, salvers, bowls, cups, caskets, jewelled crosses, articles of jewellery and gems, such a division as they desired was out of the question, they insisted that the ship should forthwith be taken to the nearest civilised port, in order that the treasure might be turned into money, and the division effected. To this I replied that only in London would it be possible to obtain anything approaching fair value for so enormous a treasure as ours, therefore to London I intended to take it; whereupon the Dagoes became so violently insubordinate that forcible measures had to be resorted to, and a very pretty fight ensued between them on the one hand, and the boatswain, carpenter, and myself on the other before we succeeded in putting the quartette in irons and dumping them down upon the ballast in the main hold, where, I informed them, they would remain until they should show unmistakable signs of having come to their senses. Such resolute action, coupled with the fact that during their confinement their food consisted solely of coarse ship biscuit and water, soon brought the insubordinate ones to their bearings, a message of unconditional surrender being brought from them to me within thirty-six hours of their confinement, promising good behaviour in the future if I would release them and permit them to return to duty.

Naturally I was more than willing to accept the olive branch thus held out, for the absence from duty of four able seamen out of our little company left the ship perilously undermanned, and would have involved us in serious difficulties, might indeed have imperilled the safety of the ship, had we fallen in with bad weather. Fortunately, however, the weather, for the first week after our departure from the estuary, proved to be almost too fine for our liking, consisting as it did of light, baffling contrary airs, interspersed with spells of calm; thus the temporary confinement below of the four foreigners proved of no disadvantage to us, although I was heartily glad to have them back on duty again. Nevertheless it soon became apparent that their reformation was, like beauty, only skin-deep, and that at heart they were as ready as ever to give trouble.

The exceptionally fine weather, to which I have just referred, continued for nearly a month, during which, with much pulling and hauling at tacks, sheets, and braces, we contrived to jockey the brigantine fairly into the Pacific, where I intended to hunt up a cargo of copra, sandalwood, and shell on the way home.

But such an extraordinarily long spell of fine weather as we had been experiencing was bound to break, sooner or later, and the break came during the afternoon of our twenty-seventh day out. The barometer, which for nearly three weeks had been standing well above thirty inches, gave us the first warning of the coming change by an ominously rapid decline of the mercury, which was quickly succeeded by a subtle veiling of the sky, the clear, rich blue of which gradually changed to a uniform tint of dirty white, in the midst of which the sun hung a mere shapeless blotch. The light breeze that during the earlier part of the day had been fanning us along at a scant three knots, died away, leaving the surface of the sea oil-smooth and colourless, while the stagnant air grew so hot that we literally felt the heat of it in our nostrils with every breath we drew. The quality of the air seemed to change, too, rendering it difficult to breathe, so that we found ourselves gasping for breath at frequent intervals, while perspiration poured from us in streams that we could distinctly feel trickling down our bodies and limbs. So enervating were the conditions that none of us cared to make the slightest unnecessary movement; yet the steady decline of the mercury was a warning that I dared not ignore. Accordingly, at eight bells in the afternoon watch, when Enderby took charge of the deck, I showed him the barometer, expressed the conviction that we were in for a typhoon, and instructed him to set all hands to the task of stripping the ship to a close-reefed topsail, reefed fore topmast-staysail, and close-reefed main trysail.

When the boatswain went for’ard and gave the necessary orders, the men received them, as I had quite expected, with black looks, muttered curses, and inarticulate growls; but the sight of Chips and me lowering and stowing the big mainsail while they surlily slouched about the deck, letting go halliards, clewing up and hauling down; and perhaps, more than all, the aspect of the heavens, conveying a message that no man could misinterpret, caused them somewhat to modify their attitude, and by four bells the ship was as nearly ready for what might come as we could make her.

But our preparations were completed not a moment too soon, for we were in a latitude where twilight is unknown, and with the disappearance of the sun below the horizon there closed down upon us a darkness that might literally be felt, for any attempt to move about the decks, well as we believed ourselves to be acquainted with them, resulted in constant collisions with unexpected obstacles.

This bewildering state of affairs continued until shortly after five bells in the first watch, when we became aware that the atmosphere was being subtly and gradually suffused with ruddy light, coming from we knew not where. The change was so gradual that it was impossible to say just when it began, but within half an hour of our first perception of it the light had grown so strong that not only were we able to move about freely without running foul of things but, standing aft by the useless wheel and looking forward, every detail of the ship’s hull, spars, sails, and rigging stood out clearly and sharply, like a silhouette cut out of black paper, against a background of shining oil-smooth water and dense masses of twisting and writhing cloud-shapes all reflecting the weird, mysterious ruddy light. It was an awe-inspiring phenomenon, strongly suggestive of the supernatural, and from the uneasy glances that were directed aft from the forecastle it was not difficult to surmise that none of the men had ever before beheld anything like it. Neither had we of the afterguard, for that matter, and I have no doubt that I should have been very much more seriously alarmed than I was at the spectacle, had I not read somewhere the description of a hurricane that had been similarly heralded. As it was, I was by no means happy at the prospect of what was in store for us, asking myself uneasily whether quite all had been done that it was possible to do to prepare the ship for the impending ordeal. There was but one thing I could think of, and that was to order all the scuttles to be securely closed, and this was at once done, although it rendered the cabins insupportably hot and close. Of course I should have liked to send down the royal and topgallant yards, and to have housed the fore topgallant mast and main topmast, and I would have attempted it had we had a decently willing crew; but I doubted whether the Dagoes would have undertaken the job, except under compulsion; and I was unwilling to engage in a tussle with a crowd of insubordinates with a hurricane threatening to burst upon us at any moment.