Part 12

On the morning of the tenth day out we crossed the twelfth parallel, and at noon we hauled our wind and headed straight for the island as located by Sir Edward Belcher.

On the fifteenth day the wind left us in 10° 43´ north latitude and about 113° west longitude, or nearly two hundred and fifty miles westward of the reef. Here we encountered the most trying part of the whole voyage out. For two days the log registered less than a ten-mile run, and the four following less than twenty.

Finally, after ten days of drifting, we sighted the island, one bright morning, almost directly over our knight-heads. As the wind was light, our skipper feared to approach within less than a mile of the shore, as there was danger of drifting into the breakers. There were hundreds of fathoms of water close in near the beach, and it was useless to think of anchoring, so we hove the vessel to about a mile to leeward.

After setting the shark line the boat was put overboard, and the mate and one man proceeded to pull us to the shore.

On arriving close to the island the surf was found to be too heavy to make a safe landing, and we were compelled to pull around to the entrance of the lagoon on the south side. We landed with little difficulty inside the entrance, and, securing the boat, proceeded to explore the reef.

Lying low in the water, it presented a peculiar and, at the same time, beautiful appearance. No part of it was over ten feet above the sea, and it lay shaped into a most perfect oval. On the outside of the circle the beach was of snow-white coral, which, as it sloped away seaward on the north side, reflected various shades of green and blue through the clear water.

On the south side the sea had just the faintest milky color, showing that there was a slight set to the southward.

We devoted the whole day to exploring the reef, and only returned on board when darkness made the schooner almost invisible.

As we passed through the entrance we made soundings, and found a depth of five or six fathoms nearly all the way across, or enough water for quite a large vessel to pass through. On getting aboard we found that the skipper had caught several desirable specimens for our collection and had sighted a small sperm-whale about a half a mile to windward just before dark. This had stirred his blood, and he had been cursing his luck heartily at our staying ashore in the boat when we might be after big game, for we had several irons and a few tubs of line on board and also a bomb-gun.

After supper we were so worked up by listening to Captain Brown’s whaling yarns that we decided to have a try at the first whale sighted. At daylight the next morning Garnett sung out to the skipper that there was something off the weather-beam. We turned out and found the sea just ruffled by a light air and the sun shining fiercely out of a cloudless sky. On searching the horizon we found nothing visible except the reef, which lay some three miles to the northward.

All of a sudden we noticed a blur of white to the westward, and Frisbow immediately went below for the glasses. Garnett sung out again from forward and pointed at the blur, then, thinking we could not see anything, he came aft to where we stood.

By this time both the skipper and Frisbow had their glasses, and were just in the act of focussing them upon the object when it suddenly vanished.

Captain Brown began to mutter something about people who saw so many strange things, and Garnett removed his cap to wipe the perspiration from the dent in his head.

“What kind of vessel can it be?” asked Frisbow.

“I’ll be hanged if I know,” I answered.

“Might be the Flying Dutchman,” suggested Garnett, with his usual gravity.

This was too much for the skipper, and he warned Garnett that such jokes were out of place among intelligent men and liable to be followed by disastrous consequences, and then added that “Most people knew a whale when they saw it.” Suddenly the blur appeared again. This time it lasted for over a minute. It was not a “blow,” and I was just about to ask the skipper what he made it out to be when he quickly shoved his glass into my hand and told me to “look quick.”

I did so, and saw that the blur was a great cloud of spray and foam thrown up from the sea. Instantly a large gray object rose from the churned water, then fell again in the thick of it, and I recognized the form of a huge thresher-shark. He appeared to land heavily upon the whale, for that animal, after lashing the sea furiously, sounded, and presently the disturbance subsided.

After breakfast we saw a blow half a mile to windward, and the skipper said it was the same whale we had noticed in the early morning.

We didn’t stop to argue the question, but hauled the whale-boat, that was towing astern, alongside and made haste to get the gear into her.

Leaving the schooner in charge of the three men, all of whom were picked sailors, the rest of us manned the boat and started out. Captain Brown took his place in the bow as harpooner and boat-steerer, while Garnett and the professor pulled bow and stroke oars respectively, leaving me to handle the steering oar.

The sea was almost like glass, and under the skipper’s direction we rapidly approached our game. My heart beat so with excitement that it seemed to choke me as we silently drew head on to the monster, the skipper motioning with his hand which way he wanted me to steer. Then we shipped the oars carefully and took out the paddles for a close throw. All of a sudden he raised the iron and hurled it at the black mass ahead. Garnett and Frisbow backed water as hard as they could, and in an instant there was a tremendous splash as the animal fluked and sounded. The skipper stood by the line, while the professor took up the bomb-gun, determined to have the honor of shooting the beast.

The whale didn’t go down far or stay long below the surface, but when he did come up he came with a rush that took him clear of the water and almost aboard of us. The surging splash he made as he fell alongside nearly swamped us with the sea and sent Frisbow over the thwart into the bottom of the boat, while the lance came near lodging in Garnett’s neck as the gun exploded in the air.

Old Captain Brown stormed and swore, and, calling Garnett to tend the line, he picked up the gun and began loading it himself as I passed him a charge, while Frisbow scrambled to his feet and asked if he had “killed him.”

A hoarse chuckle from Garnett warned him of his mistake, but before any one could answer the skipper passed him the gun again and sprang forward to the line. I looked over the side, and suddenly noticed a dark spot in the clear depths directly beneath us growing rapidly larger. Putting forth all my strength, I swung on the steering oar to slue the boat to one side, and it was just by good luck I managed to do so in time. I heard an exclamation from the skipper, and saw Frisbow standing with the gun ready, when, without an instant’s warning, the great bulk of the whale rose alongside close enough to touch. The professor fired with the muzzle not two feet from the animal’s body, which, as it fell alongside, half filled the boat with water.

Instead of sounding again the whale swam slowly away, towing us after it. Captain Brown started to load the gun, and had just put in the powder charge when the whale slowed up and began blowing rapid jets of crimson spray.

“We’ve got him now,” he said, and laid down the gun to wait for the end.

In about ten minutes the animal was motionless upon the water, and after waiting a little longer we hauled alongside. He was a small sperm-whale, not over thirty feet in length, with about enough blubber to make a “twenty-barrel,” as he was termed by the skipper. We made a line fast to him and then sat and waited for the schooner, that was creeping slowly up from leeward with the light breeze. The heat was terrific as we sat there in the open boat, and it was long past noon before the schooner picked us up.

After dinner Frisbow, myself, and two men manned the boat to tow the whale ashore. We worked the schooner in as close as possible to the entrance of the lagoon, and then we had to work into the lagoon in the small boat with a white-ash breeze. We finally landed our prize inside the entrance, and Frisbow turned to work at once to get off the skin. This appeared to be a useless object, but as he was bent upon it there was nothing else to do.

During the whole of the following week he was ashore nearly all the time with one or two men, and sometimes, when the wind was light and we drifted well off, it was nearly midnight before he would get aboard. It was while this work was progressing that the incident occurred which caused all our troubles.

Frisbow and Garnett had both tried to persuade Captain Brown that it was the best and safest place for the schooner inside the lagoon, as there was plenty of water and quite smooth anchorage. The skipper, like a true deep-water sailor, dreaded the proximity of the beach even worse than he did fresh water on his skin, and he was several times made furious at the idea of putting his vessel inside the lagoon.

One day after Garnett and Frisbow had gone ashore, where they had been hard at work at the whale, I told the skipper that I would look out for the vessel, and he went below and turned in.

The two men left on board were idling about the galley. One of them, the one who acted as cook, sat in the doorway and worked a pan of “duff” which he held between his knees.

The schooner had her mainsail set and hauled flat aft, while her jib was drawn to windward, thus heaving her to in the light air that barely ruffled the surface of the ocean. There was not a cloud in the sky, and only a dull haze tempered the fierce heat of the sun.

I had the wheel lashed hard down and lay at full length on the quarter, trying to keep in the shadow of the mainsail. I smoked a cigar and gazed at the eddies that drifted from the vessel’s side to windward.

After about an hour, when I had smoked my cigar down to a stump, I was aware that the wind had died out entirely and that it was oppressively hot on deck. I lounged aft and leaned over the rail and tried to see if I could distinguish anything moving on the island, but could not, and the distant hum of the surf was the only sound that broke the painful stillness.

Suddenly the hum of the surf seemed to grow louder. I turned to look to the westward, and in an instant saw the ocean whipped to foam along the horizon.

“All hands!” I yelled, and sprang to the peak halyards.

I let them go by the run, and had just cast off the throat when with a rush the white squall struck us just forward of the weather-beam. One of the men let go the jib halyard and tugged at the downhaul and managed to get the sail half down before the full weight of the wind struck us. The mainsail, hanging half way down the mast, thundered away at a great rate until it split from head to leach, while the little schooner lay on her beam ends, letting the water pour in a torrent down the open companion-way.

In less than five minutes it was all over. The wind slacked up as suddenly as it began, and the vessel slowly righted. Captain Brown clambered on deck half drowned from the flooded cabin and helped to get in what was left of the mainsail. We got all the canvas in, but the sea was as calm as before, except for the swell stirred up, and there was not enough wind to fill a topsail.

“White squall, eh?” inquired the skipper as soon as we had the sails secured.

“It was some kind of a squall,” I said; “but there was no warning whatever of its coming.”

“There never is,” he answered, with a sickly grin. “I wonder how much water we’ve got into us. If it had held on five minutes longer we’d have passed in our papers, sure; and, as it was, I am all but drowned. It seemed as if the whole ocean poured into my bunk and held me down.”

We found the cabin half full of water, and it took us all day to get things straightened out below, while the men unbent the split mainsail and began to repair it.

When Garnett and the professor came on board that night they were astonished at the damage done, for there had been no sign of wind on the reef.

In the schooner’s hold we found everything in a mess, and all our fishing-gear and lines piled up on the port side in one big tangle. Garnett managed to pick out the bomb-gun and some irons from the pile, and Frisbow, after wiping the gun, had the cook fill it with beef tallow to keep out the rust.

That night we held a council, and, as there were three to one for going inside the reef, the skipper’s objections were finally overruled, and it was decided that we should remain in there until work on the whale was finished. The next morning at sunrise we headed in through the entrance, and by noon were moored snugly enough on the inside.

The work of skinning the whale was soon accomplished, and the skin was staked out, with one or two of the sharks we had captured, and left to the care of the professor.

I did not fancy the work of getting out the animal’s skeleton, as the stench from the body was now unbearable, so I spent my time in procuring specimens of a more attractive sort from the clear waters of the reef.

I had been thus engaged for several days, and was returning to the schooner one evening, when I heard a deep booming sound that seemed to fill the air about me. The ground under me trembled violently and it was with difficulty I kept my feet I hurried towards the schooner, and met Frisbow on the beach opposite where she was moored. His face expressed great anxiety, and he asked me if I had felt the earthquake. I replied that I had, and wondered what would happen next. He didn’t answer, but I could see that he was more excited than I had ever seen him before.

When we reached the schooner Garnett was being rated by Captain Brown for having suggested bringing the vessel into such a hole. The skipper had felt the shock, and swore that we would have the accompanying tidal wave in about half an hour, adding that if it caught us in there we were as good as dead men.

It was not quite dark, so without a moment’s delay we made sail and stood for the entrance. There was no wind to speak of, and the skipper, fearing that we might drift into the breakers, had Garnett and the three sailors man the whale-boat and tow us to keep up good headway.

I took the wheel and Captain Brown went forward to direct our movements. We went straight for the middle of the cut, while the sun dipped below the western horizon and the sudden tropic night fell upon the ocean. The moon was a few degrees high in the east, and we knew that there would be plenty of light, anyhow, to steer by, as we kept slowly on.

In a little while we neared the entrance, and it looked as if we would be on the open ocean within half an hour, when all of a sudden I heard a harsh, grinding sound, and the schooner, with a slight jar, became motionless. The skipper came rushing aft and peered over the taffrail, muttering a string of oaths through his set teeth.

“What is it?” I asked, as I left the wheel and rushed to the rail.

He said nothing, but dived below for a lead-line. In a moment he was forward again and flung the lead overboard, but I noticed that the line failed to run out.

“What is it?” I asked again.

He turned his face towards me, and I saw its ghastly expression in the moonlight.

“God knows,” he growled, “but we are hard and fast on the reef, and there isn’t half a fathom of water anywhere ahead of us.” He bawled for Garnett to come on board, and I heard the startled exclamations from the men in the boat as they hauled in the tow-line and came alongside.

In a moment the skipper jumped into the boat with the hand-lead and started off through the entrance.

I could see him making soundings for nearly a quarter of a mile ahead as they glided over the calm moonlit water, and then the boat was put about suddenly, and she came for the schooner. Frisbow and I went to the side.

“We’re in for it now,” said the skipper, with an oath, as he clambered on deck. “The whole bottom seems to have raised up, and there isn’t enough water to float a junk-barrel across the whole cut.”

“Come, bear a hand!” he yelled to Garnett. “Get a line out aft and we’ll see if we can kedge her off; we can’t lay here all night.”

Frisbow looked at me and I at him, but we said nothing. We were caught like a rat in a hole, and the only thing to do was to get the schooner afloat and wait for daylight, when things might not be as bad as they appeared.

There was no time to speculate until we got the schooner off the ledge, so we lent a hand and got the kedge into the boat, and Garnett bent on the tow-line and dropped astern.

In a few minutes he came on board, and all hands tailed onto the line to haul her off. We hauled and tugged, but it was no use, we couldn’t start her. Finally we passed the line forward to the windlass, and after half an hour’s heaving we had the satisfaction of feeling the little vessel slide off into deep water again. There was nothing to do but to go back to our moorings, so, sending the boat ahead again, we towed back and made fast at our old berth, all hands quite worn out with our exertions.

There was no thought of rest, however, for any of us; our case was too bad for that. We were in no immediate danger, but we were cut off from the world as suddenly and as effectually as if we were confined on the moon. Our provisions would last six months with care, but even in that time the chances were against our sighting a vessel in that locality.

As soon as the schooner was safely moored we went ashore and explored the reef, but there was no apparent change in any part above water. The skipper was beside himself with rage at being caught, and blamed Garnett for the whole affair. Garnett said little and mopped his head frequently with his handkerchief, but I fancied I saw a peculiar gleam in his eye when the captain became more than usually violent.

After spending the whole night trying to work out some solution of our difficulty, we came to the conclusion that the only way was to strip the vessel, heel her over on her bilge, and force her through the entrance.

We discussed every possible method of lightening her, and the skipper finally thought that by taking everything out of her except her masts we might get across the reef with what little current there would be to favor us.

As soon as it was daylight we started for the entrance to examine it carefully and find the deepest water. The air was hot and still, and the water of the lagoon had a greasy look.

The first thing that attracted our attention was a large, dark object that rose on the reef where yesterday there had been nearly fifty feet of water. All eyes were directed to it as it lay there like a huge mass of coral weed with great festoons hanging from its sides.

Suddenly the skipper sprang to his feet “My God, it’s a ship!” he cried.

All hands stopped rowing and turned in their seats, when Garnett, who was steering, bawled out to “Give way together!” and we headed straight for it.

As we approached, we saw that it was the hull of a large ship lying on its bilge, but so covered with marine growths that its outline could hardly be traced in the great mass. It lay well out, and the wash of the surf broke against the stern; this is the reason we didn’t notice it during the night. There were three or four feet of water around it, so we forced the boat through the floating weed until we were alongside.

Garnett clambered to the deck amidships closely followed by Frisbow and myself. We made our way aft aloft along the slippery incline by clinging to the weed that covered everything, and reached a large hole that had evidently been the entrance to the cabin. The whole design of the ship was strange and different from any modern vessel I had ever seen. We peered down the opening, but could see nothing inside except various-colored marine growths.

The professor was for going below instantly, but Garnett held back and contented himself with examining the steering-gear, where he was joined by the skipper.

Frisbow let himself down the opening and I, feeling ashamed to let him go alone, let myself down after him.

The cabin was dark inside, for the windows were covered with weed, but I could make out the form of the professor as he groped his way along the slippery floor into the darkness forward.

After going a short distance into what appeared to be a large saloon the grass seemed to grow thinner and I stood up and looked about me. As I did so my head came in sharp contact with a curious brass lamp which hung suspended from one of the deck-beams. My exclamation caused Frisbow to join me, and together we examined the strange fittings about us.

A table and some chairs, which were fastened to the floor, still held their shapes although covered with grass and slime, and from the strange carving on their legs, which was still visible in places, the professor pronounced them to be Spanish.

A little farther on we came to a bulkhead with two doors, which were open and led into an inky black space beyond. The professor struck a match, and we saw that both doors had short companion-ways leading to a cabin on the berth-deck and that the ladders were sound although covered with slime. The match went out, but Frisbow instantly struck another and started down. We reached the floor of a small cabin, which had two doors on each side and which was quite free from the heavy sea-growth we had encountered above. There was a table in the centre and the frames of several heavy chairs, while from above hung a large brass lamp covered with verdigris and similar in pattern to the one I had encountered with my head.

Striking another match, we entered the first door to the right. There was nothing in it but a large wooden chest, which lay open and contained a pulpy and slimy mass. In a bunk was the same material, while on the bulkheads were green brass rods which had evidently held some sort of drapery that had long ago succumbed to the action of sea-water. In the other rooms we found several old matchlock guns almost entirely rust and also half a dozen long straight swords. On a shelf was a tinder-box of brass with the flint as good as new, but the steel was a brown lump. There were a number of rusty knives and several brass frames, together with a lot of glassware and crockery. Some of this rubbish crunched sharply underfoot in the ooze, but everything else not of wood or iron had decayed beyond recognition.

The professor was down to his last match when we came across a small chest in the last room. It was of iron but not heavy, so I took it under my arm as we made for the companion-way.

It gave me a nervous feeling to be down in the black, slimy hold of that lost ship, and I was rather glad to start for the deck again. Before we reached the ladder the professor’s last match was out, and we groped our way aft as best we could, encumbered with all the spoils we could carry.

The silence and darkness made me hasten my steps, when just before I reached the ladder a terrific yell echoed through the blackness, causing me to drop everything and start with a sudden terror. Then in a moment the skipper’s hoarse voice bawled down to us from the door above, wanting to know if we intended to remain aboard all the morning. The old sword I had was too rusty to be of any use, otherwise I think I should have run him through the body; so, cursing him loudly for his impatience, to the professor’s great amusement, I picked up my things and mounted the ladder.