Men on “The Purple” were gladsome. The crew, confiding in the strength of their ship and the size of it, jeered at all perils. On other ships stern discipline ruled, but on “The Purple” each man did what seemed good to him.
Life on that ship was one ceaseless holiday. The storms which she had passed, the rocks which she had crushed, increased the crew’s confidence. “There are no reefs, there are no winds to wreck this ship,” roared the sailors. “Let a hurricane shiver the ocean, ‘The Purple’ will always sail forward.”
And “The Purple” sailed; she was proud, she was splendid.
Whole years passed—she was to all seeming invincible, she helped other ships and took in on her deck drowning passengers.
Blind faith increased every day in the breasts of the crew on “The Purple.” They grew slothful in good fortune and forgot their own art, they forgot how to navigate. “Our ‘Purple’ will sail herself,” said they. “Why toil, why watch the ship, why pull at rudder, masts, sails, and ropes? Why live by hard work and the sweat of our brows, when our ship is divine, indestructible? Let us sail on, let us sail joyously.”
And they sailed for a very long period. At last, after years, the crew became utterly effeminate, they forgot every duty, and no man of them knew that that ship was decaying. Bitter water had weakened the spars, the strong rigging had loosened, waves without number had shattered the gunwales, dry rot was at work in the mainmast, the sails had grown weak through exposure.
The voice of sound sense was heard now despite every madness:
“Be careful!” cried some of the sailors.
“Never mind! We will sail with the current,” cried out the majority. But once such a storm came that to that hour its like had not been on the water. The wind whirled ocean and clouds into one hellish chaos. Pillars of water rose up and flew then with roars at “The Purple”; they were raging and bellowing dreadfully. They fell on the ship, they drove her down to the bottom, they hurled her up to the clouds, then cast her down again. The weak rigging snapped, and now a quick cry of despair was heard on the deck of that vessel.
“‘The Purple’ is sinking!”