The Wreck of the Nancy Bell; Or, Cast Away on Kerguelen Land

by John C. Hutcheson

Chapter Twenty Six.

Kerguelen Cabbage.

While Mr McCarthy and the jolly-boat’s crew were thus trying to save all the “flotsam and jetsam” they could from the wreck, Ben Boltrope and those of the crew told off to help him, as “carpenter’s mates,” were as busy as bees house-building, if running up the shanty which Mr Meldrum had designed could be so designated; while the rest of the party were lending all the aid they could in fetching and carrying what the actual workers required.

It was only a rough wooden hut, or rather “composite” structure; but as it was more than probable that it would have to be the home of the shipwrecked people for some five months at the least, no trouble or pains were spared in endeavouring to make it as substantial and comfortable under the circumstances as Ben and his active assistants could effect with the limited means at their command.

The gable-end of the cliff, under whose lee the hut was erected, so as to gain shelter from the southward and westward winds, which seemed to be the most prevalent on the coast, presented a flat and even face, just like a slab of black slate standing up perpendicularly from the ground. The wall of rock, which was of a hard volcanic material that was evidently not porous, was made to serve for the back of the building, a niche or groove being excavated along it, about ten feet from the bottom, for the insertion of the ridge poles. This was a task of some difficulty, owing to the toughness of the stone; but it was a necessary one in order to prevent the moisture from above trickling down into the interior between the roof and the face of the cliff. The lower ends of the ridge poles, which sloped down from the top at an angle of some fifteen degrees, were then firmly fastened to the posts placed in the holes dug for them and lashed together with stout seizings of rope and sennet, so strongly that it would almost have taken a hurricane to have blown them away.

The next proceeding was to fix, at equal distances apart across the rough framework of the roof, a series of slender scantlings cut from the deck planks by splitting them with an axe, which Ben was forced to make use of on account of his having no saw, that and other similar useful instruments having been left in his tool-chest, which had been placed in the long-boat when the first preparations were made for abandoning the Nancy Bell.

The scantlings were secured to the ridge poles diagonally, not only for greater security but on account of the shortness of some of the pieces of timber they had and the necessity there was for their economising it; and, over the scantlings were laid in due order, the one overlapping the other to prevent any crevices in between, the shingles which the ingenious carpenter had improvised out of the staves of the empty casks—although, as the space to be covered amounted to some seven hundred superficial feet or thereabouts, every one of the casks had to be broken up save the six containing their beef and pork and the salted-down flesh of the sea-elephant, Ben even then hardly having enough shingles for his purpose.

However, casks or no casks, the roof of their house was a consideration that stood at the moment before all others; and, being now properly shingled, it was rendered additionally watertight by spreading over it the old tarpaulin and sail that had already temporarily done duty above their tent, and then giving them a good coating of pitch. A supply of this article had been fortunately thrown on to the raft along with the other odds and ends that had came in so usefullys and it was now melted down in Snowball’s recovered copper. The finishing touch was given to the structure by piling several big boulders over the upper row of shingles along the ridge pole, for greater stability and to prevent boisterous Boreas from playing any of his rude tricks to its disadvantage.

The roof done, all hands turned their attention to raising the sides of the shanty. This was a much easier job, consisting in nailing rough pieces of planking at intervals across the corner-posts from end to end, both inside the building and without, and then filling up the interstices, or intervening hollows, with the basaltic débris that was scattered around—just as rubble is thrown in between skeleton brickwork by what are termed “jerry-builders” to form party-walls of modern tenements. The side walls were then carried up to within a foot or so of the eaves of the roof, the sail-covering of which after being allowed to lap over was now tucked in at the top, thus closing up the chinks and making all snug.