The crew of the “Mary Frazier” had been bragging and boasting, since we had been in port, that they had better boats, and could pull faster than either of the other ships’ boats. Knowing what braggadocios they were, our men took no notice of them, nor did the crew of the English bark for some time, until finally they challenged the Englishmen to a race, and the challenge was accepted. The flag-boats were stationed one mile apart, and the boat that pulled around these stationary ones three times and came out ahead was to win the race, making a pull of six miles. The crew of the “M. F.’s” boat were down quite early in the morning on the day of the race, six large brawny fellows, stripped to the skin, and “eager for the fray.” About 9 A.M. the Englishmen lowered their boat, the same number of men composing her crew, but with a far different appearance, being perfectly cool, and making no boasting display. Our boys, thinking they might as well be “counted in,” though not thinking of winning, five of them, with the second mate, jumped into the waist-boat, and “struck out” for the starting-place. The boats were now ranged alongside, the signal was given, and away they flew like arrows from the bow. The “Mary’s” boat soon left the others behind, our “plug” being distanced by both. Each crew bent their backs to it, sending the boats through the silvery sheet with great speed. The Englishmen’s boat seemed to skim over the surface of the water with the ease and grace of the swan, the crew taking it perfectly easy. The first flag-boat was rounded, and the “Mary’s” boat was some distance ahead. But now was “the tug of war.” The good-natured Johnny Bulls awoke from their lethargy, and the cry rang out, “Pull, my hearties, pull!” and every stroke lessened the distance between the two boats, our own boat gaining on the “head boat” about as fast as did the Englishmen. But all was excitement; the men in each host were straining every nerve, and, at the end of the third mile, the Englishmen passed the other boat, and, before the fourth was reached, ours passed it also. But still on they pulled, determined not to give up, yet dropping farther and farther astern, until, at the end of the sixth mile, the English boat was a mile ahead of the “Mary Frazier’s,” and our own about half a mile ahead. The Johnny Bulls now gave three cheers for their own boat, and “three times three” for ours, not so much for the victory as that the boasters had been so badly beaten. Our boys were not interested in the race at all, only pulling for the “fun of the thing,” and they were more surprised than any one else to find that they could beat the “crack boat” of the “M. F.;” and her crew were so mortified that they said no more about “fast boats.” Thus were the boasters beaten.
On Saturday, April 19th, the king gave another grand feast and dance, to which we were all invited as usual. After some time spent in dancing by the chiefs and king, the old black “doctor”[3] of the “Maria Laura” struck up with his violin, and all hands joined in a regular breakdown. This pleased the king and natives very much, they laughing heartily and exclaiming, “What for all the same ’Meriky fashion?”
As we before remarked, Captain H. had built a ball-alley on the island, and the king and chiefs spent a great part of their time there, and had become very expert players. The king might often be seen “rolling a string” with one of the foremast hands of the different ships.
The “Mary Frazier” had now been in port nearly four months, the “Maria Laura” two months, and ourselves one month. The three ships were ready for sea, and had been for weeks, but the wind blew constantly into the passage—a fair wind to enter port, but impossible for a ship to leave. At length, however, on the morning of Wednesday, April 23d, the wind died away and it fell a dead calm, and the old man determined to make the effort to tow the ship out of the passage. Accordingly, we “hove up” anchor and down boats, and commenced to tow. When at the mouth of the passage a breeze sprang up, taking us “all aback,” and swinging the ship around. We were rapidly drifting into the breakers, when the pilot, Rotumah Tom, immediately sprang into a boat alongside, and, pulling for the weather side of the passage, with the end of a line in his hand, which he had taken with him, he plunged down and made it fast around a coral rock, came up, and made signals to “heave away” on board. This was the work of almost a moment; the ship was within but a few feet of the breakers, and we held our breath, expecting every instant to see her strike. But by sharp, quick work, and the good judgment and activity of Rotumah Tom, we soon cleared the breakers, and, warping up to our old anchorage, “let go” again.
The other ships also dropped anchor, and congratulated us on the narrow escape of the “Emily.” We felt thankful to God for the escape, narrow as it was. To have been wrecked there and then would have been truly lamentable.
The next morning a light breeze sprang up from the southward, and all three ships left Strong’s Island, bidding them adieu. The breeze increased as we dropped the land, and with a fair wind we headed west-northwest for Guam.
[3] The cook.
CHAPTER XVII.
Guam.—Invasion of the Ladrone Islands by the Spaniards in 1554.—Getting off Recruits.—Fruit.—Climate.—Captain Anderson.—Massacre of Captain Luce and Boat’s Crew.—Proceed to Japan Cruising-ground.—Ship “Boy.”—Boat’s Crew taken down by a Whale.—Albicore and Skipjack.—“Our Luck” again.—The Spell broken.—Bark “Medina.”—Manuel and the Hog.—A slight Tap.
Sunday, May 4th, we arrived at Guam. This is a beautiful island, of rather high land, and resembles the American coast more than any land we saw during our wanderings. The surface presents a rolling appearance, the land looks fertile, and it is interspersed with dense foliage. This island is the principal one of the group of the Ladrone Islands.