The South Sea Whaler

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Keep her before the wind,” said Mr Shobbrok, lying down; “and if there is any change, call me immediately.”

Walter steered on as directed, keeping the raft before the wind, and watching the stars which ever and anon shone out between the passing clouds. He felt almost sure that the wind had shifted several points, and that he was now steering much more to the north than at first. It was very light, and the raft made but little progress. He suspected that the old mate had purposely allowed him to sleep on till near daylight; and he determined to return his kindness by not arousing him, but allowing him to awake of his own accord. Mr Shobbrok, however, was so accustomed to awake at the hour he intended, that before long he got up, and smilingly said, “Well, Walter, I hope you are the better for your rest; I can honestly say that I am. And now, I dare say that you are ready for breakfast.”

Walter confessed that he was; but when he tried to get the salt meat and dry biscuit down, he could scarcely swallow it. How he longed for a cup of cold water! A little wine which the mate served out slightly relieved him, but he soon got thirsty again. They both tried the effect of wetting their clothes; but that was only a partial relief. When the sun came out, and its rays struck down with fiery heat on their heads, they both began to suffer painfully. Wine enabled them to swallow their food, but it was water they wanted. The wind fell, and the raft lay rocking about, making no progress. They neither of them felt much inclined to talk. While Walter took the helm, the mate, with his hammer and nails, gave a few finishing touches to the raft, and added fresh lashings to the parts which he thought required to be better secured.

The next night passed away much as the first had done. The mate told Walter he must keep the first watch. Walter fancied that he should be able to let the mate have a good long spell of sleep; but he was mistaken, for in less than a couple of hours the old man got up and insisted on his lying down; and when he awoke he found that daylight had returned. They were both by this time beginning to suffer greatly from want of water. Mr Shobbrok kept his thoughts to himself, but he knew too well what must be the result. Both wetted their clothes; their thirst continued to increase; they felt, however, that it would have been much worse had they not adopted that course. The day wore on, and poor Walter gave signs of severe suffering though he did not complain aloud. The wind had fallen to a dead calm, and the raft floated motionless on the water; then, the sail being useless, the mate lowered it. Ceasing to look out for any sail in sight, for he knew that none could approach, he pounded up some biscuit and moistened it with wine; but even then Walter could scarcely get it down his throat. The old man gazed on the lad with pitying eye and sorrowing heart, as he saw that he could not much longer endure his sufferings. He himself, strong as he was and inured to hardships, began to feel the agony of thirst; his lips were parched, his mouth dry. He wetted Walter’s clothes and his own, and he washed his mouth out frequently with salt water, bidding Walter do the same; but they found their throats become almost immediately afterwards as dry as before.

The sun again went down, and the comparative coolness of night somewhat relieved them. The mate feared that Walter would not be able to endure another day. The stars shining brightly from the sky were reflected on the mirror-like surface of the deep. All around looked calm and peaceful. Walter soon fell asleep. “He will forget his sorrows, poor boy, and will be the better for it,” thought the mate as he sat watching by his side; yet he could not help dreading that it might be his young friend’s last sleep here below. “Well, well, he is a true Christian lad, and will be saved much pain and sorrow, and many trials. God knows what is best. He takes those he loves most; though, if the captain survives, it will go well-nigh to break his heart.” These thoughts occupied the mind of the worthy mate, till, overcome by weariness and exhaustion, he himself lay down, resting his head on a piece of timber which served as Walter’s pillow. He soon fell asleep, and seldom, perhaps, had he slept so soundly. He was awakened at length by a bright glare in his eyes; and starting up, he found that the sun had just risen out of his ocean bed. The whole sky, however, was quickly obscured; for dark clouds hanging low down were gliding across the heavens. The mate watched them eagerly, for he saw that in several directions they were sending down copious showers on to the still calm surface of the ocean. Now on one side, now on another, he saw the rain falling, but none came near where the raft lay. He would not arouse Walter—who was still sleeping—knowing how the sight would tantalise him; but he knelt by his side, and prayed that the rain might reach them. Then he stood up and gazed around, hoping against hope that a sail might be in sight; but not an object was to be seen. In every side to the edge of the horizon the sea presented the same glass-like surface. The clouds were coming from the north-east, and a breeze would probably spring up from that direction. He stood watching the clouds, and while he watched he bethought him of a plan for catching the rain should it come at last. Two or three of the boat’s planks were still not nailed down; he took one of them, and with his knife split it into thin strips; these he fastened together so as to form a large hoop; then casting off the sail from the yard, he placed it over the hoop, and allowed it to sink down in the centre, thus making a large basin. He next considered how the precious water, if caught, could be preserved,—when he recollected that he had secured a small empty water-cask under the stem of the raft. He at once cast loose the lashing which held it, and hauled it on board; and it apparently made but little difference on the buoyancy of the raft. After some difficulty he got out the bung, and held it with the hole downwards, to be sure that no salt water had got within; and lastly, he placed it in readiness to be filled.

He had just accomplished his task, when, looking to windward, he exclaimed, “Thank Heaven, it’s coming!” He now touched his companion on the arm. “Rouse up, my lad,” he said; “we are not forsaken.”

Walter slowly raised his head.

“There, there!” added the mate; “look at yonder blessed shower! It will reach us before many minutes are over. I can almost see the drops as they splash into the salt sea.”

Poor Walter crawled to the other end of the raft, to hold up the hoop as the mate bade him. The shower approached, its course marked by a line of hissing bubbles. The sound of the drops, as they struck the surface of the ocean and bounded up again could be heard. It reached them sooner than they expected. They raised the sail which had been prepared to catch it. Down came the precious rain, quickly filling the sail; while they eagerly opened their mouths, that not a drop more than they could help should be lost. But as the water rose in the sail, they could no longer help dipping down their heads and taking a long refreshing draught. It produced an almost instantaneous effect on Walter, whose strength seemed suddenly to return. “Oh, how merciful God has been to us!” were the first words he uttered. “I now feel sure that we shall be saved; but last night I had begun to fear that we were doomed to perish.”

“I thought the same,” said the mate; “but it was wrong of us. Under all circumstances, however hopeless, we should trust in God.”