The Three Admirals

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Now, lads, we will get up the anchor and pull away into the offing, though one cheer before we go for our island home.”

A cheerful hurrah burst from the lips of the party, the anchor was lifted and stowed, and the oars being got out, they pulled merrily down the harbour. The entrance to the passage was as smooth as the rest of the bay. Having at length got well into the offing, Tom and Desmond had to decide in which direction to steer. The chart showed them Guam, the principal of the Ladrone Islands, much further off than Yokohama, on the coast of Japan, towards which they proposed steering. The wind, too, was from the north-east, and should it continue from the same point, they might reach some place in the latter islands, much sooner than they could hope to arrive at Guam. Still, as they had taken it into their heads that the Dragon would touch at Guam, they were far more inclined to go there than to Japan. When Tom, however, considered the risk of running short of water and of fresh provisions, he decided that they ought to attempt to reach Japan. Desmond agreed with him, and he accordingly at once put the boat’s head to the north-west. The wind was so light that both the jib and gaff-topsail were set, and the boat which, at a distance, would have looked like a little cutter, stood well up to her canvas.

“She will do it, sir,” said Jerry Bird. “She is going better than four knots an hour now, and if there comes a stiff breeze, we shall get six out of her.”

Tom was not quite so sanguine as to that; indeed, when he came to heave a log which he had fitted, he found that she was making really only three and a half knots, though that, considering the lightness of the wind, was very good. The little island on which they had spent so many days drew gradually astern. They could see others away to the northward. They concluded that they were also uninhabited, or, if there were any people on them, that they were not likely to afford them any assistance. At last the island itself faded from sight, and as the sun went down they floated in the midst of a watery circle. Tom, with Desmond and Jerry Bird, had taken the helm one after another, for Billy had had no experience, and neither of the other men could be trusted to steer by the compass. As it got dark Tom wisely took in the gaff-topsail and jib, while he kept a hand always ready to lower the mainsail, should a sudden squall strike the boat. There appeared to be little chance, however, of that, for scarcely had the sun gone down than the wind fell to a perfect calm, and the boat lay motionless on the water.

“Don’t you think it would be well to take to the oars?” asked Desmond.

“If we were certain of making good our passage in this direction. I should say so, but before exerting our strength we must see from which quarter the wind will next blow. It may be in our teeth, and all our labour will have been in vain.”

Tom divided the crew into two watches: he, Billy, and Pat taking one; Desmond, with Jerry Bird and Tim, being in the other. Tom took the first watch, as he had an idea that the weather would change before midnight.

“You need not sit up, Billy,” he said. “If you are wanted I’ll call you. Tim will tend the main halyards and keep a look-out forward.”

Billy, who was always ready for a caulk, lay down in the stern sheets. Tim kept himself awake by alternately singing snatches of Irish songs and whistling. Tom himself had some difficulty in keeping awake. He had lighted the binnacle lamp, by which he saw that the boat’s head was turned now to one, now to another point of the compass. Several times he got up to look about; though no sailing vessel could near them, a steamer might, and often and often he fancied he heard the sound of one in the distance. Hour after hour passed by; he looked at his watch, which had fortunately kept good time. At midnight he roused up Desmond, charging him to keep a good look out for any sudden squall. “Which way it may come it is impossible to say, but I think very likely from the point for which we are steering,” he observed.

Bird was of the same opinion. “We’ll not be caught napping, sir,” he said, as Tom lay down, thankful for the prospect of getting some rest. Desmond managed to keep awake, and amused himself by listening to Pat Casey’s yarns, which were so extraordinary that Desmond fancied he must be drawing upon his imagination, though he did not think fit to say so. The middle watch passed away much as the first had done. Now and then a whale or some vast fish was heard blowing or splashing in the water, but nothing could be seen, the sound travelling over the smooth surface to a great distance.