Part 2

I had no idea of the expense of building and preserving a ship: that in which I am at present cost £30,000 at its outset. Last year the repairs amounted to £14,000; and in a voyage to the East Indies they were more than £20,000. In its return last year from Jamaica it was on the very brink of shipwreck. A storm had driven it into Bantry Bay, and there was no other refuge from the winds than Bear Haven, whose entrance was narrow and difficult; however, a gentleman from Castletown came on board, and very obligingly offered to pilot the ship. He was one of the first people in the place, had been the owner of a vessel himself, was most thoroughly acquainted with every inch of the haven, &c. &c., and so on they went. There was but one sunken rock, and that about ten feet in diameter; the captain knew it, and warned his gentleman-pilot to keep a little more to the eastward. “My dear friend,” answered the Irishman, “now do just make yourself _asy_; I know well enough what we are about; we are as clear of the rock as if we were in the Red Sea, by Jasus;”--upon which the vessel struck upon the rock, and there she stuck. The captain fell to swearing and tearing his hair. “God damn you, sir! didn’t I tell you to keep to eastward? Dam’me, she’s on the rock!” “Oh! well, my dear, she’s now _on_ the rock, and, in a few minutes, you know, why she’ll be _off_ the rock: to be sure, I’d have taken my oath that the rock was two hundred and fifty feet on the other side of her, but----“--“Two hundred and fifty feet! why, the channel is not two hundred and fifty feet wide itself! and as to getting her off, bumping against this rock, it can only be with a great hole in her side.”--“Poh! now, bother, my dear! why sure----“--“Leave the ship, sir; dam’me, sir, get out of my ship this moment!” Instead of which, with the most smiling and obliging air in the world, the Irishman turned to console the female passengers. “Make yourselves _asy_, ladies, pray make yourselves perfectly _asy_; but, upon my soul, I believe your captain’s mad; no danger in life! only make yourselves _asy_, I say; for the ship lies on the rock as safe and as quiet, by Jasus, as if she were lying on a mud bank!” Luckily the weather was so perfectly calm, that the ship having once touched the rock with her keel bumped no more. It was low water; she wanted but five inches to float her, and when the tide rose she drifted off, and with but little harm done. The gentleman-pilot then thought proper to return on shore, took a very polite leave of the lady-passengers, and departed with all the urbanity possible; only +thinking the captain the strangest person that he had ever met with; and wondering that any man of common sense could be put out of temper by such a trifle.

DECEMBER 7.

Yesterday we had the satisfaction of falling in with the trade wind, and now we are proceeding both rapidly and steadily. The change of climate is very perceptible; and the deep and beautiful blue which colours the sea is a certain intimation of our approach to the tropic. A few flying fish have made their appearance; and the spears are getting in order for the reception of their constant attendant, the dolphin. These spears have ropes affixed to them, and at one end of the pole are five barbs, at the other a heavy ball of lead: then, when the fish is speared, the striker lets the staff fall, on which down goes the lead into the sea, and up goes the dolphin into the air, who is in the utmost astonishment to find itself all of a sudden turned into a flying fish; so determines to cultivate the art of flying for the future, and promises itself a great many pleasant airings. The dolphin and the flying fish are beautifully coloured, and both are very good food, particularly the latter, which move in shoals like the herring, and are about the size of that fish. They are supposed to feed on spawn and sea animalculæ, and will not take the bait; but on the shores of Barbadoes, which they frequent in great multitudes, they are caught in wide nets, spread upon the surface of the sea; then, upon beating the waters around, the fish rise in clouds, and fly till, their fins getting dry, they fall down into the nets which have been spread to receive them. The dolphin is seldom above three feet long; the immense strength which he exerts in his struggles for liberty occasions the necessity of catching him in the way before described.

DECEMBER 8.

At three o’clock this afternoon we entered the tropic of Cancer; and if our wind continues tolerably favourable, we may expect to see Antigua on Sunday. On crossing the line, it was formerly usual for ships to receive a visit from an old gentleman and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Cancer: the husband was, by profession, a barber; and, probably, the scullion, who insisted so peremptorily on shaving Sancho, at the duke’s castle, had served an apprenticeship to Mr. Cancer, for their mode of proceeding was much alike, and, indeed, very peculiar: the old gentleman always made a point of using a rusty iron hoop instead of a razor, tar for soap, and an empty beef-barrel was, in his opinion, the very best possible substitute for a basin; in consequence of which, instead of paying him for shaving them, people of taste were disposed to pay for not being shaved; and as Mrs. Cancer happened to be particularly partial to gin (when good), the gift of a few bottles was generally successful in rescuing the donor’s chin from the hands of her husband; however, to-day this venerable pair “peradventure were sleeping, or on a journey,” for we neither saw nor heard any thing about them.

DECEMBER 9.

When, after his victory of the 1st of June, Lord Howe again put to sea from Portsmouth, the number of women who were turned on shore out of the ships (wives, sisters, &c.) amounted to above thirty thousand!

DECEMBER 10. (Sunday.)

What triumph moves on the billows so blue?

In his car of pellucid pearl I view,

With glorious pomp, on the dancing tide,

The tropic Genius proudly ride.

The flying fish, who trail his car,

Dazzle the eye, as they shine from afar;

Twinkling their fins in the sun, and show

All the hues which adorn the showery bow.

Of dark sea-blue is the mantle he wears;

For a sceptre a plantain branch he bears;

Pearls his sable arms surround,

And his locks of wool with coral are crown’d.

Perpetual sunbeams round him stream;

His bronzed limbs shine with golden gleam;

The spicy spray from his wheels that showers,

Makes the sense ache with its odorous powers.

Myriads of monsters, who people the caves

Of ocean, attendant plough the waves;

Sharks and crocodiles bask in his blaze,

And whales spout the waters which dance in his rays.

And as onward floats that triumph gay,

The light sea-breezes around it play;

While at his royal feet lie bound

The Ouragans, hush’d in sleep profound.

Dark Genius, hear a stranger’s prayer,

Nor suffer those winds to ravage and tear

Jamaica’s savannas, and loose to fly,

Mingling the earth, and the sea, and the sky.

From thy locks on my harvest of sweets diffuse,

To swell my canes, refreshing dews;

And kindly breathe, with cooling powers,

Through my coffee walks and shaddock bowers.

Let not thy strange diseases prey

On my life; but scare from my couch away

The yellow Plague’s imps; and safe let me rest

From that dread black demon, who racks the breast:

Nor force my throbbing temples to know

Thy sunbeam’s sudden and maddening blow;

Nor bid thy day-flood blaze too bright

On nerves so fragile, and brain so light:

And let me, returning in safety, view

Thy triumph again on the ocean blue;

And in Britain I’ll oft with flowers entwine

The Tropic Sovereign’s ebony shrine!

Was it but fancy? did He not frown,

And in anger shake his coral crown?

Gorgeous and slow the pomp moves on!

Low sinks the sun--and all is gone!

“And pray now do you mean to say that you really saw all this fine show?” Oh, yes, really, “in my mind’s eye, Horatio,” as Shakspeare says; or, if you like it better in Greek--

[Greek line] Odyssey, A.

DECEMBER 11.

A dead centipes was found on the deck, supposed to have made its way on board, during the last voyage, among the logwood. This is not the only species of disagreeable passengers, who are in the habit of introducing themselves into homeward bound vessels without leave. While sleeping on deck last year, the Captain felt something run across his face; and, supposing it to be a cock-roach, he brushed off a scorpion; but not without its first biting him upon the cheek: the pain for about four hours was excessive; but although he did no more than wash the wound with spirits, he was perfectly well again in a couple of days.

DECEMBER 12.

Since we entered the tropic, the rains have been incessant, and most violent; but the wind was brisk and favourable, and we proceeded rapidly. Now we have lost the trade-wind, and move so slowly, that it might almost be called standing still. On the other hand, the weather is now perfectly delicious; the ship makes but little way, but she moves steadily: the sun is brilliant; the sky cloudless; the sea calm, and so smooth that it looks like one extended sheet of blue glass; an awning is stretched over the deck; although there is not wind enough to fill the canvass, there is sufficient to keep the air cool, and thus, even during the day, the weather is very pleasant; but the nights are quite heavenly, and so bright, that at ten o’clock yesterday evening little Jem Parsons (the cabin boy), and his friend the black terrier, came on deck, and sat themselves down on a gun-carriage, to read by the light of the moon. I looked at the boy’s book, (the terrier, I suppose, read over the other’s shoulder,) and found that it was “The Sorrows of Werter.” I asked who had lent him such a book, and whether it amused him? He said that it had been made a present to him, and so he had read it almost through, for he had got to Werter’s dying; though, to be sure, he did not understand it all, nor like very much what he understood; for he thought the man a great fool for killing himself _for love_. I told him I thought every man a great fool who killed himself for love or for any thing else: but had he no books but “The Sorrows of Werter?”--Oh dear, yes, he said, he had a great many more; he had got “The Adventures of a Louse,” which was a very curious book, indeed; and he had got besides “The Recess,” and “Valentine and Orson,” and “Ros-lin Castle,” and a book of Prayers, just like the Bible; but he could not but say that he liked “The Adventures of a Louse” the best of any of them.

DECEMBER 13.

We caught a dolphin, but not with the spear: he gorged a line which was fastened to the stern, and baited with salt pork; but being a very large and strong fish, his efforts to escape were so powerful, that it was feared that he would break the line, and a _grainse_ (as the dolphin-spear is technically termed) was thrown at him: he was struck, and three of the prongs were buried in his side; yet, with a violent effort, he forced them out again, and threw the lance up into the air. I am not much used to take pleasure in the sight of animal suffering; but if Pythagoras himself had been present, and “of opinion that the soul of his grandam might haply inhabit” this dolphin, I think he must still have admired the force and agility displayed in his endeavours to escape. Imagination can picture nothing more beautiful than the colours of this fish: while covered by the waves he was entirely green; and as the water gave him a case of transparent crystal, he really looked like one solid piece of living emerald; when he sprang into the air, or swam fatigued upon the surface, his fins alone preserved their green, and the rest of his body appeared to be of the brightest yellow, his scales shining like gold wherever they caught the sun; while the blood which, as long as he remained in the sea, continued to spout in great quantities, forced its way upwards through the water, like a wreath of crimson smoke, and then dispersed itself in separate globules among the spray. From the great loss of blood, his colours soon became paler; but when he was at length safely landed on deck, and beating himself to death against the flooring, agony renewed all the lustre of his tints: his fins were still green and his body golden, except his back, which was olive, shot with bright deep blue; his head and belly became silvery, and the spots with which the latter was mottled changed, with incessant rapidity, from deep olive to the most beautiful azure. Gradually his brilliant tints disappeared: they were succeeded by one uniform shade of slate-colour; and when he was quite dead, he exhibited nothing but dirty brown and dull dead white. As soon as all was over with him, the first thing done was to convert one of his fins into the resemblance of a flying fish, for the purpose of decoying other dolphins; and the second, to order some of the present gentleman to be got ready for dinner. He measured above four feet and a half.

DECEMBER 14.

At noon to-day, we found ourselves in the latitude of Jamaica. We were promised the sight of Antigua on Sunday next, but that is now quite out of the question. We made but eight miles in the whole of yesterday; and as Jamaica is still at the distance of eighteen hundred miles, at this rate of proceeding we may expect to reach it about eight months hence. The sky this evening presented us with quite a new phenomenon, a rose-coloured moon: she is to be at her full to-morrow; and this afternoon, about half-past four, she rose like a disk of silver, perfectly white and colourless; but, as she was exactly opposite to the sun at the time of his setting, the reflection of his rays spread a kind of pale blush over her orb, which produced an effect as beautiful as singular. Indeed, the size and inconceivable brilliance of the sun, the clearness of the atmosphere, which had assumed a faint greenish hue, and was entirely without a cloud, the smoothness of the ocean, and the aforesaid rose-coloured moon, altogether rendered this sunset the most magical in effect that I ever beheld; and it was with great reluctance that I was called away from admiring it, to ascertain whether the merits of our new acquaintance, the dolphin, extended any further than his skin. Part of him, which was boiled for yesterday’s dinner, was rather coarse and dry, and might have been mistaken for indifferent haddock. But his having been steeped in brine, and then broiled with a good deal of pepper and salt, had improved him wonderfully; and to-day I thought him as good as any other fish.

Our wind is like Lady Townley’s separate allowance: “that little has been made less;” or, rather, it has dwindled away to nothing. We are now so absolutely becalmed, that I begin seriously to suspect all the crew of being Phæacians; and that at this identical moment Neptune is amusing himself by making the ship take root in the ocean; a trick which he played once before to a vessel (they say) in the days of Ulysses. I have got some locust plants on board in pots: if we continue to sail as slowly as we have done for the last week, before we reach Jamaica my plants will be forest trees, little Jem, the cabin-boy, will have been obliged to shave, and the black terrier will have died of old age long ago. Great numbers of porpoises were playing about to-day, and tumbling under the ship’s very nose. When in their gambols they allow themselves to be seen above the surface, they are of a dirty blackish brown, and as ugly as heart can wish; but in the waves they acquire a fine sea-green cast, and their spouting up water in the sunbeams is extremely ornamental.

THE HELMSMAN.

Hark! the bell 1 it sounds midnight!--all hail, thou new

heav’n!

How soft sleep the stars on their bosom of night!

While o’er the full moon, as they gently are driven,

Slowly floating the clouds bathe their fleeces in light.

The warm feeble breeze scarcely ripples the ocean,

And all seems so hush’d, all so happy to feel!

So smooth glides the bark, I perceive not her motion,

While low sings the sailor who watches the wheel.

That sailor I’ve noted--his cheek, fresh and blooming

With health, scarcely yet twenty springs can have

seen;

His looks they are lofty, but never presuming,

His limbs strong, but light, and undaunted his mien.

Frank and clear is his brow, yet a thoughtful expression,

Half tender, half mournful, oft shadows his eye;

And murmurs escape him, which make the confession,

If not check’d by a hem, they had swell’d to a sigh.

His song is not pour’d to beguile the lone hour,

When in-watch on deck ’tis his duty to keep;

Nor of painful reflection to weaken the power,

Nor chase from his eyelids the pinions of sleep.

Tis so sad...’tis so sweet... and some tones come so

swelling,

So right from the heart, and so pure to the ear;--

That sure at this moment his thoughts must be dwelling

On one who is absent, most kind and most dear.

Perhaps on a mother his mind loves to linger,

Whose wants to relieve, the rough seas hath he

cross’d;

Who kiss’d him at parting, and vow’d he could bring her

No jewel so dear as the one she then lost!

No, no! ’tis a sweetheart, his soul’s cherish’d treasure,

Those full melting notes... hark! he breathes them

again!

So mournful, and yet they’re prolong’d with such plea

sure........

Oh, nothing but love could have prompted the strain.

Yet, whate’er be the cause of thy sadness, young seaman,

That the weight be soon lighten’d, I send up my vow;

From the stings of remorse, I’ll be sworn, thou’rt a

freeman,

No guilt ever ruffled the smooth of that brow!

That sigh which you breath’d sprang from pensive

affection;

That song, though so plaintive, sheds balm on the

heart;

And the pain which you feel at each fond recollection,

Is worth all the pleasures that vice could impart.

Oh, still may the scenes of your life, like the present,

Shine bright to the eye, and speak calm to the breast;

May each wave flow as gentle, each breeze play as

pleasant,

And warm as the clime prove the friends you love best!

And may she, who now dictates that ballad so tender,

Diffuse o’er your days the heart’s solace and ease,

As yon lovely moon, with a gleam of mild splendour,

Pure, tranquil, and bright, over-silvers the seas!

DECEMBER 16.

What little wind there is blows so perversely, that we have been obliged to alter our course; and instead of Antigua, we are now told that the Summer Islands (Shakspeare’s “still vexed Bermoothes”) are the first land that we must expect to see.

I am greatly disappointed at finding such a scarcity of monsters; I had flattered myself, that as soon as we should enter the Atlantic Ocean, or at least the tropic, we should have seen whole shoals of sharks, whales, and dolphins wandering about as plenty as sheep upon the South Downs: instead of which, a brace of dolphins, and a few flying fish and porpoises, are the only inhabitants of the ocean who have as yet taken the trouble of paying us the common civility of a visit. However, I am promised, that as soon as we approach the islands, I shall have as many sharks as heart can wish.

As I am particularly fond of proofs of conjugal attachment between animals (in the human species they are so universal that I set no store by them), an instance of that kind which the captain related to me this morning gave me great pleasure. While lying in Black River harbour, Jamaica, two sharks were frequently seen playing about the ship; at length the female was killed, and the desolation of the male was excessive:--

“Che faro senz’ Eurydice?”

What he did _without_ her remains a secret, but what he did _with_ her was clear enough; for scarce was the breath out of his Eurydice’s body, when he stuck his teeth in her, and began to eat her up with all possible expedition. Even the sailors felt their sensibility excited by so peculiar a mark of posthumous attachment; and to enable him to perform this melancholy duty the more easily, they offered to be his carvers, lowered their boat, and proceeded to chop his better half in pieces with their hatchets; while the widower opened his jaws as wide as possible, and gulped down pounds upon pounds of the dear departed as fast as they were thrown to him, with the greatest delight and all the avidity imaginable. I make no doubt that all the while he was eating, he was thoroughly persuaded that every morsel which went into his stomach would make its way to his heart directly! “She was perfectly consistent,” he said to himself; “she was excellent through life, and really she’s extremely good now she’s dead!” and then, “unable to conceal his pain,”

“He sigh’d and swallow’d, and sigh’d and swallow’d,

And sigh’d and swallow’d again.”

I doubt, whether the annals of Hymen can produce a similar instance of post-obitual affection. Certainly Calderon’s “_Amor despues de la Muerte_” has nothing that is worthy to be compared to it; nor do I recollect in history any fact at all resembling it, except perhaps a circumstance which is recorded respecting Cambletes, King of Lydia, a monarch equally remarkable for his voracity and uxoriousness; and who, being one night completely overpowered by sleep, and at the same time violently tormented by hunger, eat up his queen without being conscious of it, and was mightily astonished, the next morning, to wake with her hand in his mouth, the only bit that was left of her. But then, Cambletes was quite unconscious what he was doing; whereas, the shark’s mark of attachment was evidently intentional. It may, however, be doubted, from the voracity with which he eat, whether his conduct on this occasion was not as much influenced by the sentiment of hunger as of love; and if he were absolutely on the point of starving, Tasso might have applied to this couple, with equal truth, although with somewhat a different meaning, what he says of his “Amanti e Sposi;”--

----“Pende

D’ un fato sol e l’ una e l’ altra vita

for if Madam Shark had not died first, Monsieur must have died himself for want of a dinner.

DECEMBER 17. (Sunday.)