On one passage down we were anchored at East London, and a breeze of wind came on from the sea. Seven sailing-ships went on shore that night, one, a brig called the Nant-y-Glo, driving close past us. At that we decided to slip and go to sea without loss of time; we did so, but, picking up the cable next day when we were fast to the slip rope in the cutter, the ship drifted down on us, fouled the rope with her propeller and capsized us all into the water. That was one of the occasions when I saw Manning run. Curiously enough, we let go another anchor, and when we picked it up brought up the other cable that we had slipped foul of it, so all was joy once more.
But the boilers were in that sad condition that it was necessary to go in for thorough repairs. We had had to delay our sailing from Cape Town for four days through bad leaks, on one occasion; and as the Company had just got the contract for the Zanzibar mail we went in for a thorough overhaul. This was towards the end of 1872, and a good two months were spent over the operation. When it was finished, we found the Natal painted yellow, the better to withstand the anticipated heat of Zanzibar.
Before we started the first voyage on the new route, we made a trial trip to Saldanah Bay, and took up with us as visitors many of the principal people in the Cape, including Mr. Molteno, the premier, and his two sons. I wonder if one of those sons, now an M.P. and director of a steamship company, remembers firing one of our twelve-pounder signal-guns under my tuition? It was a very jolly trip, and we all enjoyed ourselves immensely. We changed our chief officer about this time, and got in his place an officer named Barker, a man of no striking personality but a good fellow, who always went about the deck humming, and had a most curious voice.
When we left Natal behind us on the first upward trip I think we all felt like Columbus when he started on his voyage of discovery. The East Coast of Africa was very imperfectly known, and the charts were by no means reliable guides. It was a mercy that in those early days the craft we were navigating were small, and drawing little water, or I fear that there would have been a good few landmarks left by the pioneers. Delagoa Bay, for instance, splendid harbour though it is, was absolutely without a solitary buoy to give a friendly lead, and the land in the immediate vicinity at the entrance is not conspicuous enough to give any definite leading marks. No actual mishap occurred either going in or coming out, but we had enough experience of the various tides to show us that it was no place to take liberties with. Quillemane, which is the port at the mouth of the Zambesi, was also touched at; here again was a river entrance apparently big enough to take in any ship, but there was the same failing—imperfect survey and lack of competent pilotage. Presumably in the future this will be one of the big ports of the world, but at that time it was considered as a place to be avoided at all hazards.
It was a change to get to Mozambique, where there was a harbour with plenty of water, and sufficiently well surveyed to make negotiation easy; it was also a striking-looking place from the sea, with a magnificent old fort built (so report had it) of stone brought from Portugal early in the sixteenth century. The work accomplished by those early navigators and settlers was simply marvellous; it made one wonder why it was that people who had been so enterprising and splendid as explorers should have so terribly deteriorated. May the Gods avert a similar fate for Britain! So far as we could gather the country in the immediate vicinity of the settlement was rich and fertile, but no strong or satisfactory rule had then been established, and the entire place seemed to be marking time.
A strong current sets down the coast past Cape Delgado, but we had fine and favourable weather for the run into Zanzibar. The entrance to the anchorage is narrow in one or two places, but in the absence of buoys the ship could in the daylight be easily conned from aloft between the coral reefs, though that indeed was hardly necessary. But it was not advisable to attempt the narrow passes in the hours of darkness, and consequently the mail steamer bound south usually left before noon. Our first arrival at Zanzibar was on a Sunday, with a temperature of ninety-seven degrees in the shade—not a breath of wind, and the water so clear that the bottom could be seen in ten fathoms. We found H.M.S. Daphne at anchor, and also the B.I. steamer Punjaub, which was concerned in the mail contract from Zanzibar northward.
About this time there was some excitement at home concerning slavery at Zanzibar, and Sir Bartle Frere paid a visit to the place in the Enchantress. He arrived the day we left. There was also fitting out a Livingstone expedition under the leadership of Colonel Pelly. There is no need here to go into any description of the place itself, except to say that it was quaint, the people well disposed towards the British, and that slavery as then practised, was on the whole a respectable institution, although more than one black man swam off to the ship and begged to be taken down the coast. Indeed, in after years we were frequently asked by friends at the Cape and Natal to bring them down a black boy for service, and there was never any difficulty in procuring them. There were at times very strong winds of hurricane force, and the previous year the island had been visited by one that did great damage.
We had a slight specimen of this sort of thing. One morning we had just commenced working cargo in the usual manner, taking it in from lighters, when a dense cloud gathered to the N.W., and occasional flashes of lightning were seen. About 7.30 a.m. down came the squall with great fury. We got up steam, but had no occasion to use it although a small dhow full of cargo that was made fast to us went down, and the beach was strewn with dhows driven from their moorings. I saw a roof—part of the Sultan’s palace—lift at one side, roll up like a piece of paper and blow over into the courtyard with a mighty crash, but I did not hear it if killed many people. By noon the weather had changed, the wind was gone, and people commenced to pick up the pieces and resume the ordinary routine of life.
Shortly afterwards we left for Natal, passing H.M.S. Briton on the road. One trip on this route was much like another, but we spent a very fair portion of every month in Natal harbour. The last voyage I made was under somewhat altered circumstances, for Captain Ballard had been appointed to the Basuto, and Barker was in acting command of the Natal. I, of course, got an acting appointment as chief which tended to stir up in my mind a taste or longing to participate in that stream of promotion that was flowing at Southampton, but which did not flow my way. I tried vainly for some time to get home, but as long as Ballard commanded the Natal I could not manage it, for he would not let me go. He was very good-humoured, however, in granting leave.
On one occasion I greatly wanted to go to a dance at Maritzburg to be held on a Monday night. A great friend of mine, and one well-known and liked by all, named Manisty, offered to find me the necessary mounts and to ride with me. We started off on Sunday afternoon, arriving at Maritzburg at 9 a.m. on Monday, sleeping some hours on the road. After a bath and breakfast we rode to a place fifteen miles out, and in again to a dinner and the dance, which was kept up till 5 a.m. Then I changed my clothes, got on my horse, and started for Durban, arriving on board by 6 p.m. in time for dinner. My companion on the road down was a cheery soul named Innes. It rained heavily all the time, but it was the most enjoyable ride I ever had. It was fifty-seven miles between the towns, and the journey totalled 144 miles in just over two days, but I had relays of horses to do it, although there were some of all sorts amongst them.