9. CHAPTER IX.
WE STEER TO THE WESTWARD—STATE OF AFFAIRS.
The night we left Hannamanoo was bright and starry, and
so warm, that when the watches were relieved, most of the men,
instead of going below, flung themselves around the foremast.
Toward morning, finding the heat of the forecastle unpleasant,
I ascended to the deck where every thing was noiseless. The
Trades were blowing with a mild, steady strain upon the canvas,
and the ship heading right out into the immense blank of
the Western Pacific. The watch were asleep. With one foot
resting on the rudder, even the man at the helm nodded, and the
mate himself, with arms folded, was leaning against the capstan.
On such a night, and all alone, revery was inevitable. I
leaned over the side, and could not help thinking of the strange
objects we might be sailing over.
But my meditations were soon interrupted by a gray, spectral
shadow cast over the heaving billows. It was the dawn,
soon followed by the first rays of the morning. They flashed
into view at one end of the arched night, like—to compare great
things with small—the gleamings of Guy Fawkes's lantern in
the vaults of the Parliament House. Before long, what seemed
a live ember rested for a moment on the rim of the ocean, and
at last the blood-red sun stood full and round in the level East,
and the long sea-day began.
Breakfast over, the first thing attended to was the formal
baptism of Wymontoo, who, after thinking over his affairs during
the night, looked dismal enough.
There were various opinions as to a suitable appellation.
Some maintained that we ought to call him “Sunday,” that
being the day we caught him; others, “Eighteen Forty-two,”
the then year of our Lord; while Doctor Long Ghost remarked,
that he ought, by all means, to retain his original name,—Wymontoo-Hee,
meaning (as he maintained), in the figurative language
of the island, something analogous to one who had got
himself into a scrape. The mate put an end to the discussion
by sousing the poor fellow with a bucket of salt water, and be-stowing
upon him the nautical appellation of “Luff.”
Though a certain mirthfulness succeeded his first pangs at
leaving home, Wymontoo—we will call him thus—gradually
relapsed into his former mood, and became very melancholy.
Often I noticed him crouching apart in the forecastle, his strange
eyes gleaming restlessly, and watching the slightest movement
of the men. Many a time he must have been thinking of his
bamboo hut, when they were talking of Sydney and its dance-houses.
We were now fairly at sea, though to what particular cruising-ground
we were going, no one knew; and, to all appearances,
few cared. The men, after a fashion of their own, began
to settle down into the routine of sea-life, as if every thing was
going on prosperously. Blown along over a smooth sea, there
was nothing to do but steer the ship, and relieve the “lookouts”
at the mast-heads. As for the sick, they had two or three more
added to their number—the air of the island having disagreed
with the constitutions of several of the runaways. To crown
all, the captain again relapsed, and became quite ill.
The men fit for duty were divided into two small watches,
headed respectively by the mate and the Mowree; the latter,
by virtue of his being a harponeer, succeeding to the place
of the second mate, who had absconded.
In this state of things whaling was out of the question; but
in the face of every thing, Jermin maintained that the invalids
would soon be well. However that might be, with the same
pale blue sky overhead, we kept running steadily to the
westward. Forever advancing, we seemed always in the
same place, and every day was the former lived over again.
We saw no ships, expected to see none. No sign of life was
perceptible but the porpoises and other fish sporting under the
bows like pups ashore. But, at intervals, the gray albatros,
peculiar to these seas, came flapping his immense wings over
us, and then skimmed away silently as if from a plague-ship.
Or flights of the tropic bird, known among seamen as the
“boatswain,” wheeled round and round us, whistling shrilly
as they flew.
The uncertainty hanging over our destination at this time,
and the fact that we were abroad upon waters comparatively
little traversed, lent an interest to this portion of the cruise
which I shall never forget.
From obvious prudential considerations the Pacific has been
principally sailed over in known tracts, and this is the reason
why new islands are still occasionally discovered, by exploring
ships and adventurous whalers, notwithstanding the great number
of vessels of all kinds of late navigating this vast ocean. Indeed,
considerable portions still remain wholly unexplored; and
there is doubt as to the actual existence of certain shoals, and
reefs, and small clusters of islands vaguely laid down in the
charts. The mere circumstance, therefore, of a ship like ours
penetrating into these regions, was sufficient to cause any reflecting
mind to feel at least a little uneasy. For my own part,
the many stories I had heard of ships striking at midnight upon
unknown rocks, with all sail set, and a slumbering crew, often
recurred to me, especially, as from the absence of discipline,
and our being so short-handed, the watches at night were
careless in the extreme.
But no thoughts like these were entertained by my reckless
shipmates; and along we went, the sun every evening setting
right ahead of our jib boom.
For what reason the mate was so reserved with regard to
our precise destination was never made known. The stories
he told us, I, for one, did not believe; deeming them all a
mere device to lull the crew.
He said we were bound to a fine cruising ground, scarcely
known to other whalemen, which he had himself discovered
when commanding a small brig upon a former voyage. Here,
the sea was alive with large whales, so tame, that all you had
to do was to go up and kill them: they were too frightened to
resist. A little to leeward of this was a small cluster of islands,
where we were going to refit, abounding with delicious fruits,
and peopled by a race almost wholly unsophisticated by intercourse
with strangers.
In order, perhaps, to guard against the possibility of any
one finding out the precise latitude and longitude of the spot
we were going to, Jermin never revealed to us the ship's place
at noon, though such is the custom aboard of most vessels.
Meanwhile, he was very assiduous in his attention to the
invalids. Doctor Long Ghost having given up the keys of the
medicine-chest, they were handed over to him; and, as physician,
he discharged his duties to the satisfaction of all. Pills
and powders, in most cases, were thrown to the fish, and in
place thereof, the contents of a mysterious little quarter cask
were produced, diluted with water from the “butt.” His
draughts were mixed on the capstan, in cocoa-nut shells
marked with the patients' names. Like shore doctors, he did
not eschew his own medicines, for his professional calls in the
forecastle were sometimes made when he was comfortably tipsy:
nor did he omit keeping his invalids in good-humor, spinning
his yarns to them, by the hour, whenever he went to see them.
Owing to my lameness, from which I soon began to recover,
I did no active duty, except standing an occasional “trick” at
the helm. It was in the forecastle chiefly, that I spent my
time, in company with the Long Doctor, who was at great
pains to make himself agreeable. His books, though sadly
torn and battered, were an invaluable resource. I read them
through again and again, including a learned treatise on the
yellow fever. In addition to these, he had an old file of
Sydney papers, and I soon became intimately acquainted with
the localities of all the advertising tradesmen there. In particular,
the rhetorical flourishes of Stubbs, the real-estate
auctioneer, diverted me exceedingly, and I set him down as
no other than a pupil of Robins the Londoner.
Aside from the pleasure of his society, my intimacy with
Long Ghost was of great service to me in other respects. His
disgrace in the cabin only confirmed the good-will of the
democracy in the forecastle; and they not only treated him in
the most friendly manner, but looked up to him with the
utmost deference, besides laughing heartily at all his jokes
As his chosen associate, this feeling for him extended to me,
and gradually we came to be regarded in the light of distinguished
guests. At meal-times we were always first served,
and otherwise were treated with much respect.
Among other devices to kill time, during the frequent calms,
Long Ghost hit upon the game of chess. With a jackknife,
we carved the pieces quite tastefully out of bits of wood, and
our board was the middle of a chest-lid, chalked into squares,
which, in playing, we straddled at either end. Having no
other suitable way of distinguishing the sets, I marked mine
by tying round them little scarfs of black silk, torn from an old
neck handkerchief. Putting them in mourning this way, the
doctor said, was quite appropriate, seeing that they had reason
to feel sad three games out of four. Of chess, the men never
could make head nor tail; indeed, their wonder rose to such a
pitch, that they at last regarded the mysterious movements of
the game with something more than perplexity; and after puzzling
over them through several long engagements, they came
to the conclusion that we must be a couple of necromancers.
