Shaykh Ibrahim now wished to depart for Cairo, seeing that I had taken my passage for Syria. On the same afternoon we entered together into a boat, which took him to the mash that was to convey him up the Nile, and me to the long-boat of my vessel. Here we bade adieu to Mâlem Surûr and to each other. I was immediately rowed over the bar, and found in the offing a polacca brig, so crazy-looking as to frighten me, and so deeply laden as to float but two feet above the surface of the water. Her decks were covered with cuffases or flagbaskets of salt fish, which had a very offensive smell, with mats, and with six new cables. The cables were green as grass, being made either of the filaments of the bark of some tree or of rushes: and two thirds of the cordage used on board the Egyptian and Syrian vessels are of this kind. All these are articles of trade with Syria; but the bulk of the cargo was rice: besides which, the sailors had filled every nook and space with baskets of parched peas, called hammas, (which are as much sought after by the common people throughout Turkey as Barcelona nuts are in England), and with linen and cotton cloths. The salt fish and mats, it appeared, belonged to the ship’s own cargo. From the multiplicity of articles on the deck itself, it was impossible to move from one part to another. I too had a heap of luggage; and, among other things, I had brought with me a bedstead made of palm-branches. These bedsteads are so firmly yet lightly constructed that they can be lifted easily with one hand. Mine was lashed over the stern.
Our crew was Greek, and the captain’s name Tanûs el Bawàb. Every thing was in such confusion that Giovanni could find no where to make my bed: so I slept on a mat on the deck without bed or covering, and when I awoke I was nearly soaked with the dew.
In the morning, at sunrise, the sailors, standing on the forecastle, the ship’s head being towards the east, made the sign of the cross repeatedly, bending the body forward at each sign, and mumbling their prayers. We remained the whole of this day in the offing at anchor; partly because the wind was foul, and partly to receive on board other things, so that I expressed my fears that the ship would sink from the weight she had in her. Nor was my alarm diminished, when, in conversation, I discovered that this was the very polacca, which, whilst we were at Acre in March, was driven on shore under the window of the caravansery and bilged.
If the Greek sailors are generally more attentive to Europeans, when passengers, than the Turks, (although I am not disposed to allow this to the same extent that many are) still there is something disgusting in the filth and nastiness of the former compared with the clean hands and persons of the latter.
On the 14th of October, we weighed anchor at half-past eleven; and I bade adieu, for the second time, to the shores of Egypt. There was little wind, and we advanced but slowly. The whole of Saturday the wind was east, and we made scarcely any way: on Sunday and Monday it was the same. This constant calm became at last extremely irksome. On Tuesday and Wednesday the ship lay like a log in the water: so that the sailors bathed around her. The shore was visible, and it was judged that we were yet below Gaza. Gebel Ky was likewise in sight. Sometimes the sailors fancied there was a mummy on board, which, according to their superstitions, brings ill luck. Many schemes were resorted to for raising the wind. Night and morning, incense was burned from stem to stern: and a contribution was levied for St. Elias of Mount Carmel. When these means were ineffectual, application was made to me to write a charm on a piece of paper, to be suspended to the boom-end. As I expressed my doubts whether I had any control over the winds, they told me a story to prove how a Mograbýn (a native of Barbary, which country produces all the conjurors in Turkey) had, when they were becalmed, by a few written mystical characters, produced not only a fair wind but almost a storm. I answered to this that I really was afraid I could not do so much: but, if a breeze would content them, fair or foul, I ventured to say I could promise it. Accordingly, I invoked “Libs, Notus Auster,” in verses as musical as those from which I borrowed their names: and, to the great delight of every one, towards evening a breeze sprung up from west-south-west, and we advanced rapidly towards our destination.
We saw Tontûra at a distance as we sailed along, and, on Friday the 21st, we entered Acre. I went on shore, and betook myself to Signor Catafago’s, who gave me a lodging at the house of a friend.
On the following day, I called on Mâlem Haym, who was confined to his house by an inflammation in his only eye. He talked on the state of Europe: and, if any one be curious to know what his summary of politics was, he concluded by saying that England had gained nothing by a bloody and expensive war but a rock—meaning Malta.
Signor Morando, the pasha’s doctor, showed me his collection of intaglios. One, which was an agate, had more than a dozen figures, representing the heathen gods assembled, with a long Greek inscription, and on the back of it a number of alphas in a row. This I considered very curious and valuable. He had likewise a votive leg of exquisite workmanship in marble. I became acquainted with Abûna Yusef Marôn, a Maronite priest, who for a certain sum procured for me a catalogue of the library at the new mosque, which had been collected at a very great expense by Gezzàr Pasha, consisting of eleven thousand volumes.[78]
At sunset, on the 24th, as the harbour gate shuts at that hour, I went on board to sleep: and the next morning the vessel was warped out of port, not without considerable difficulty.
When getting under way, our rudder caught on a cable, and we nearly drove on a rock, which would surely have wrecked the vessel. The harbour-master, Ali Shemass, and his companion, Abu Katûr, followed me on board with the customary request of a bakhshýsh.[79] We had light airs all day. Just before sunset we were near Tyre. We supped, and every body went to sleep, not excepting the man at the helm; for, although we were destined for Tyre, he suffered the ship to pass the port during the night, and in the morning we were eight or ten miles beyond it. We put back; and, after losing nearly twenty-four hours through the steersman’s negligence, anchored in the harbour of Tyre.