The admiral on the Jamaica station lives on shore, at a house called the Admiral’s pen, on the Palisades, whence he commands a view of the harbour, roadstead, and the ocean. He is better off than the Governor, because he does get the sea breeze, which is the best preventive to the yellow fever. It takes an hour or more pulling up from Port Royal to Kingston, the distance being five or six miles or more. Spellman once induced me to ride round along the Palisades, but we agreed that we would never do it again; for, as it was a calm day, and the rays of the sun beat down on the white sands, we were very nearly roasted alive, and how we escaped a sunstroke I do not know. From what I have said, it will be understood that Port Royal harbour is a very large sheet of water, and what with the shipping, the towns and ports on its shores, and the lofty mountains rising up in its neighbourhood, is a very picturesque place.
We had not been there long, when yellow jack, as the yellow fever is called, made its appearance, both at Kingston and Port Royal, and all visits to the shore were prohibited. Grey and I, therefore, had to make ourselves as happy on board as we could, till we received our expected orders to join the schooner. We had not had a yarn for some time from Mr Johnson. One evening, when work was over, we found him walking the forecastle, taking what he called his sunset food shaker, in a more than usually thoughtful mood. As Grey, Spellman, and I, with one or two others, went up to him, he heaved a sigh, which sounded not altogether unlike the roar of a young bull.
“What is the matter, Mr Johnson?” I asked, approaching him. “You seem melancholy to-day.”
“I have cause to be so, Mr Merry; I have indeed,” he answered, in a tone of deep pathos, again sighing. “Whenever I look on the blue waters of this harbour, and those whitewashed houses, and those lofty mountains, I think of a strange and sad episode of my eventful history.”
Of course we all exclaimed with one voice, “Do tell it to us, Mr Johnson!” To which I added, “If it would not break your heart, we should so like to hear it.”
“Break my heart, Mr Merry!” exclaimed the boatswain, striking his bosom with his open palm, and making it sound like the big drum in a regimental band. I could not help fancying that there was a considerable amount of humour lurking in the corner of his eye.
“Break my heart! Jonathan Johnson’s heart is formed of tougher stuff than to break with any grief it may be doomed to bear. You shall hear. But it strikes me forcibly, young gentlemen, that it may be as well to finish one part of my history before I begin another. Who can tell where I left off?”
“You were just going to be swallowed by the big sea-serpent, Mr Johnson; ship, and crew, and all,” said Grey.
“It would be more correct, Mr Grey, to say that you believed we were going to be swallowed up; because you will understand that had we been swallowed up, I should not, in all human probability, be here, or ever have attained the rank of boatswain of His Britannic Majesty’s frigate Doris,” said Mr Johnson, with a polite bend of the head. “However, not to keep you longer in suspense, I will continue my narrative:—
“The good ship Diddleus was bowling away under all sail, and the sea-serpent, with mouth agape, following us. It’s my opinion, and others agreed with me, that if he’d kept his mouth shut he would have caught us; for the hot wind coming out of his throat filled our sails, just as if it had been blowing a heavy gale of wind, and drove us ahead of him; but he was too eager, do you see, and thought every moment he was going to grab us. We guessed that he had been aroused at finding his back smart from the scratch we made in it. We thus ran on till daybreak, keeping ahead, but not dropping him as much as we could have wished. It was very awful, let me tell you, young gentlemen, to see his big rolling eyes, to feel his hot breath, to smell a smell of sulphur, and to hear his loud roaring. It was painfully evident that he was in a tremendous rage at the liberty we had taken with his back; and there was no doubt that had he come up with us, he could have swallowed the ship and crew, and his own fat into the bargain, with as much ease as he swallowed the whale. If it was a terrific sight to see him at night, it was still worse in the daytime. His immense jaws were wide open, showing a dozen rows of teeth, while his large eyes projected on either side; and I don’t think I exaggerate when I say that the tip of his upper jaw was fully sixty feet above the surface of the water. As you all well know, young gentlemen, I am not a man to be daunted; so I loaded our stern-chasers, and kept blazing away at the monster, to make him turn aside, but to no effect. I trained the guns myself, and every shot went into his mouth; but he just rolled his eyes round, and swallowed them as if they were so many pills. It was a fine sight, though a terribly fearful one, I own, to see him coming along so steadily and stately, with the water curling and foaming under his bows, and flying high up into the air as he cut through it. It was neck or nothing with us; so we kept blazing away as fast as we could load. I confess that every moment I expected he would make a spring and grab us, just as an ordinary fish does the bait held over him; but it was necessary that I should set an example of coolness to my crew; and, under the circumstances, I believe that mortal man could not have been cooler. I could not hide from myself the consequences, should he catch us; and yet I scarcely dared to hope that we should escape. We had expended, at last, all our round-shot, and the greater part of our powder, and we had to load with bags of nails and any langrage we could find. We had half emptied the carpenter’s chest, and, except some copper bolts, there seemed to be nothing else we could fire off, when, by my calculations, I found that we were approaching the line. Life is sweet; and so, that we might keep off the fatal moment as long as possible, we determined to fire away as long as we had a tin-tack or a bradawl to put into our guns, when, on a sudden, he uttered a fierce roar—it did make us jump—and down went his head right under the water, and up went his tail like a huge pillar, when flop it came down again, sending the sea flying over us and very nearly pooping the ship. We felt very uncomfortable, for we naturally expected to see him come up alongside; but he didn’t, and two minutes afterwards we made him out close to the horizon, to the southward. It was my opinion at the time—and I have held it ever since—that either he did not like the mouthful of big nails and bradawls he swallowed, or that he had some objection to crossing the line from not knowing the navigation on the other side. At all events, we were clear of him. We had a quick run to Liverpool, where the oil sold at a very high price, and I got a monstrous amount of credit from all who believed my wonderful narrative. As is always the case, some didn’t, in spite of the oil I exhibited in proof of the occurrence; but I treated the incredulous fellows with the scorn they deserved, and from that day to this, I’ll answer for it, no one has ever caught sight of so much as the tail of the real sea-serpent.”