The men forward had aroused from their lethargy, and some were whiling away the time singing, others telling yarns; Spanish Jack and Portuguese Manuel were seated by themselves, thumping on an old fiddle; Jo Bob was amusing some of the boys by giving them a specimen of his island dancing and singing. The watch below were in about the same condition, “lying around loose,” listening to a long yarn spun by Lawrence about a county fair that took place down in Maine. As usual, his stories would not “match.” He gave a full description of the whole affair. “The table,” he said, “was about three or four hundred feet long, and about six thousand people sat down to dinner at one time!” Some of the boys inquired “what they had to drink.” “Strong beer,” replied Lawrence; whereupon one of the watch said “he had lied to him, as he had often stated that the people down in Maine never indulged in strong drink.” But Lawrence was not to be caught in this manner, and he readily replied, “Well, it was not so very strong; it was made of spruce!” All the watch now joined in a hearty laugh at Lawrence’s expense.
Meanwhile the order of arrangements on deck were somewhat different. It happened that Lawrence’s berth, which was an upper one, was chock forward in the “eyes” of the ship, and one of the dead lights—used for the purpose of letting air and light into the forecastle, which opened exactly abreast his face—was left open. One of the watch on deck, having listened to Lawrence’s yarn, and wishing to have a little sport at his expense, stationed himself over the bows, on the martingale guys, and, as Lawrence rolled over, gave him a bucket of water, dash in the face, almost drowning the poor fellow. As soon as he could speak, for he was terribly frightened, and his bed was fairly afloat, Lawrence commenced jawing about the man at the helm “getting the ship off her course.” It was as smooth as a mill-pond, but he had the idea that the sea had washed in. His sleep was spoiled for that watch below, as the whole watch were shouting and laughing, and he growling and putting on dry clothing.
CHAPTER XII.
Marquesas Islands.—Dominica.—Its Appearance.—Visitors.—Tattooing.—The Chief.—His costly Dress.—Delivers his Papers.—A “Recommend.”—Society Islands.—Roratonga.—Its Appearance.—New York.—New Bedford.—Too many Friends.—The universal Remedy.—Fruit.—A thieving Set.—Missionaries.—Petty Tyrannies practiced.—Rev. John Williams.—His Death.—The staple Commodity.—The Desire for Sea.—Queen and Government.—Desertion.—General Losses.—Jo Bob’s Choice.—A merry Time.
On Thursday, June 6th, we raised the island of Dominica, one of the Marquesas group. This island presents a beautiful appearance from the sea. The thick groves of the cocoanut, orange, lime, and bread-fruit-trees, with the native huts occasionally peeping out from under the foliage; the mountains in the background, thickly studded with magnolia groves; a beautiful stream of water tickling down the sides of large mountains, here and there inclosed by the trees, are all plainly visible from the ship, and make us long to ramble among them.
A canoe was seen approaching us, and the main yard was hauled aback, when it was soon alongside. The natives were certainly the most singular-looking beings we had ever beheld. They are about medium size, copper-colored, and wear no clothing except a small piece of tappa—a native cloth pounded out from bark—around their loins. Their faces and bodies were tattooed in such a manner that they look truly frightful. Some have a broad stripe running diagonally across the face; others had half the face tattooed; others one eye, with a black mark abreast of it; some the lower half of the face. Their bodies presented all the variations of the kaleidoscope.
The chief, who is quite a dignitary, was “dressed up” for the great occasion. His dress consisted of an old overcoat that reached nearly to his knees, with a large white button tied by a string about a foot in length to the back part, and an old bell-crown “beaver,” about four sizes too large, completely covering his head and ears. This completed his wardrobe, and a truly comical appearance he presented as he approached the captain, pulled off his beaver, pulled out his papers, and presented them with the air of a man of business. The papers were recommends from captains who had traded with him, but he knew nothing contained in them. One of them, of which we obtained a sight, read in this wise: “Beware of this fellow; he is dishonest and a villain; do not allow him to persuade you to go ashore with him.” A nice “recommend,” truly. And here we will remark that the tribe at this bay are cannibals of the fiercest kind, and it would not be very safe for a boat’s crew to go among them.
As we were in haste to reach the Society Islands, we politely took leave of our visitors and the comical-looking old chief, and braced forward, soon leaving the beautiful island of Dominica far astern.
We, in the course of two or three days, passed several of the Societies, and on Saturday the 22d of June, sighted the island of Roratonga, the one to which we were bound. The island, like all those in the tropics, especially those composing the Marquesan and Society group, presents the most rich and beautiful appearance. The land, as it recedes back from the sea, rises to a considerable height, and is dressed in the brightest green foliage; the sandy beach, washed by the never-ceasing rollers, with the neat white houses quietly reposing beneath the thick shade of the myriads of cocoanut, orange, and banana trees, renders it the most beautiful island we have ever beheld. As we stood viewing it from the ship, while drawing nearer and nearer, we could but imagine it to be some Eden of happiness, where yet the passion of man had not stepped in to mar and spoil its beauty. But even here we found that the “serpent” had entered and filled it with sin.
There are three villages on this island, named New York, New Bedford, and the one at which we stopped, Roratongo. We believe there are about eight hundred inhabitants in this village. From appearances, they are not very cleanly in their persons, and are rather forbidding. Most of them, however, wear European clothing, which they obtain from ships. They endeavor to make themselves very friendly, and, as soon as you land, they throng about you as numerous as runners in Albany on landing from a North River steam-boat, exclaiming, in very good broken English, “How de do, my fliend? You be my fliend? Go my house; me got plenty fruit my house.” Each one does his best to make you understand he is your very particular friend; very disinterestedly, of course, as we found to our cost. We accepted the invitation of one of these, who would have it that he was our very particular friend—in fact, he almost claimed relationship—and accompanied him to his house. On arriving at his “house,” we found it to be a long stone building, whitewashed, consisting of but one apartment, with a curtain or screen in the centre, which probably served as a partition, making two rooms. The inmates consisted of two or three young, dirty, ugly-looking females, one of them cross-eyed, and another that had lost an eye, and an old lady, who kept up a constant cry, begging for tobacco. “Too much sore, my toose; small piece bacca.” We soon found this “sore toose” very prevalent, and “bacca” the universal remedy—the great cure-all. After supplying their “immediate necessities,” we sat down to eat some oranges and bananas offered to us. This island abounds with all kinds of tropical fruit, and we soon struck a bargain for all we wanted; and, on arising to go, found they had stolen all our tobacco and pocket-knives. They are expert thieves and arrant rogues; no dependence can be placed on them.