During a cruise on a war vessel we called in at several ports in Madagascar. Before we finally left the island we had a large supply of what the sailors called Madagascar cats. These Lemuroids (half monkey and half cat) took possession of the ship. Their arboreal lives made them discontented with the flat surface of the deck, but once they were allowed to climb the rigging, they seemed satisfied with their new surroundings. The majority of these pets slept during the day, but in the evening, as the sun neared the western horizon they were wide awake and full of animation. The boatswain’s mate in the starboard gangway owned a most peculiar gray Lemur. During the day he remained cuddled up in some corner, his head and face covered with his tail; but as soon as he felt the cool of the evening approaching, he would jump in the rigging and watch for a chance to spring on some man’s head. His soft, prominent eyes had a pleasing expression and he would close them when his fur was stroked, manifesting pleasure in being caressed. He had a large, round head, set close on his shoulders, short fore limbs and long hind ones. His tail was bushy and his slender body was covered with a thick gray coat of fur which was like plush to the touch, and he was fed on bread soaked in condensed milk. As soon as we sailed into Southern latitudes our Madagascar cats succumbed to the cold.
In Bahia one of the ward room officers bought two yellow puppies, which lived forward, and one of the men was paid a small sum to care for them. The carpenter’s mate had two marmosets, and as soon as the yellow dogs came aboard, they pounced upon their backs, showing a fondness for horse back riding. At first the canines disliked this treatment and tried every device to dismount their riders. The only relief they found from the marmosets was to crawl under the bottom step of the forecastle head ladder, and scrape them off their backs. Later on, one of the marmosets was taken sick and died and the other became more affectionate and less distrustful. One morning we were surprised to hear the boatswain’s mates call us to “stand by our hammocks.” We all wondered what this could mean, but in a few moments the word was passed for us to take them below, unlash them and see if the marmoset was in some man’s bed.
The carpenter’s mate had missed his pet; he searched every place for him and at last it occurred to him that “Tippy” must have been lashed in some bed as he usually slept at the head of a hammock. Sure enough. The little marmoset was discovered under the blankets in a hammock, where he had been smothered. Poor little fellow. We all mourned our loss.
The yellow puppies grew to be large dogs. Just as soon as a boat was called away they were at the gangway ready to visit the shore. Without a guide they roamed the streets of strange cities, and when tired of that, like old salts they made for the boat landing and came aboard. They were two wise creatures, for when ashore they knew the men of their ship among a crowd of other sailors, and kept in company with the ones who were under the influence of strong drink, protecting them from being robbed.
One afternoon it was blowing a stiff pampero in Montevideo Bay. The steam launch left the ship to make a safe mooring alongside of a wharf, and as the two dogs wanted to go ashore, they jumped overboard in hope of overtaking her. The short, choppy seas soon exhausted their strength and both were drowned.
On another vessel we had a goat. She was kept tied on the main hatch. Once free, she fed on any clothes that were in her reach and butted any person who came in her way. When she was at liberty it took two or more men to secure her, for she was a vixen whose temper was savage and unappeasable.
It has been my privilege to be shipmate with almost every kind of living creature, animals, insects and birds, and in closing I will say a few words about the much hated rats.
I was on a brig sailing between the West Indies and New York, which had a full complement of rats. Some of them were tame. There was one fat fellow who found his way to my bunk. At first he was timid but he mastered it and was exceedingly friendly, for I could hold a pan for him to eat, but if I attempted to stroke his fur he would skedaddle away. It was amusing to watch them steal molasses from the casks. They sat on the bung hole and allowed their tails to trail within. By licking each other’s tail they secured a plentiful supply.
HOW SAILORS WASH THEIR CLOTHES
How Sailors Wash Their Clothes