Men Against the Sea

by Charles

  On the morning of June tenth, I was lying doubled up in the stern sheets. Lamb, Simpson, and Nelson were in a state as bad as my own; and Lebogue, the Bounty's sailmaker, once the hardiest of old seamen, lay forward with closed eyes. His legs were swollen in a shocking manner, and his flesh had lost its elasticity; when it was pinched or squeezed, the impression of one's fingers remained clear.

  The breeze was still fresh, though the sea had moderated during the night, and only two men were at the bails. Elphinstone was steering, with Bligh at his side. The countenances of both men looked hollow as those of spectres; but while the master's mate stared at the compass dully, the captain's eyes were calm. Our fishing line was made fast close behind Bligh. We had towed it constantly, day and night, for more than three thousand miles without catching a fish, though Cole and Peckover had exhausted their ingenuity in devising a variety of lures made from feathers and rags. Peckover had seized a new one on our hook the night before, employing the feathers of a booby Captain Bligh had caught with his own hands on the fifth--the only bird we had secured since leaving New Holland.

  Bemused with weakness, I happened to glance at the line. We were sailing at not less than four knots at the time, and I was surprised to observe that the line, instead of towing behind us, ran out at right angles to the boat. For a moment I did not realize the significance of this. Then I said, in the best voice I could muster: "A fish!"

  Mr. Bligh started, seized the line, rose to his feet, and began to haul in hand-over-hand, with a strength that surprised me.

  "By God, lads," he exclaimed, "this one shan't get away!"

  It was a dolphin of about twenty pounds' weight. The captain brought it in leaping and splashing, swung it over the gunwale, and fell to the floor boards, clasping it to his chest.

  "Your knife, Mr. Peckover!" he called, never for an instant relaxing his hold on the struggling fish.

  In an instant the gunner had cut the cord beneath the gills, but Mr. Bligh held fast to the dolphin while it blazed with the changing colours of death and its shuddering grew weaker, till it lay still and limp. The captain rose weakly, rinsed his hands over the side, and sat down once more, breathing fast. Peckover looked at him admiringly.

  "No use his trying them jumping-jack tricks on you, sir!" he said.

  "You've Mr. Ledward to thank," said Bligh. "We've towed so long without luck, that I'll be bound no other man would have noticed it!" Peckover was gazing down longingly at the bulging side of the fish, and Bligh went on: "Aye, divide him up--guts, liver, and all."

  Peckover knelt beside the fish, muttering to himself as he laid out imaginary lines of division, and then changed his mind. At last he began to cut. The people watched this operation with an eagerness which might have been laughable under happier circumstances. Only Elphinstone, at the tiller, had preserved an attitude of indifference throughout the affair, gazing vacantly at the compass and up at the horizon from time to time.

  Under Bligh's direction, the gunner divided the fish into thirty-six shares, each of about half a pound. Eighteen of these were now distributed by our method of "Who shall have this?" A fine steak fell to me; the captain got the liver and about two ounces of flesh. Lebogue shook his head feebly when his share was offered him, and whispered: "I'm past eatin', lad."

  I managed to turn on my side when Tinkler handed me my fish in a coconut shell, but I was now in such a state that the sight of raw flesh revolted my stomach. Seeing that Nelson felt the same, I did my best to make a pretense of eating before stowing my shell away out of sight. I am not of a rugged constitution, and it irked me to be so feeble when others were still able to bail and work the sails. Nelson was close beside me, and he said in a low voice: "Damme, Ledward, I cannot eat the fish."

  "Nor I," I replied.

  "No matter, we'll soon raise Timor."

  "Mr. Samuel," said Bligh, "issue a spoonful of wine to those who are weakest."

  He was eating the dolphin's liver, and I could see that he relished the food no more than I. But he forced himself sternly, mouthful by mouthful, to chew and swallow it.

  Toward noon, the wind shifted from E.S.E. to nearly northeast, forcing us to lower our sails and raise them on the starboard tack. Then a black rain squall bore down on us, filling our kegs and permitting us to drink our fill. Those who were able wrung out their sodden rags in salt water, and performed the same office for their weaker mates. The sky was clouded over, and though there was a long swell from the east, the wind was light and we shipped little water over the stern. The boatswain was staring aft.

  "Look, sir!" he exclaimed suddenly to Bligh.

  Several of the people turned their heads; as I raised myself a little to look, I heard Hallet say: "What's that?"

  Directly in our wake and not more than a quarter of a mile away, a black cloud hung low over the sea, with a sagging point that approached the water in a curious, jerking fashion. And just beneath, the surface of the sea was agitated as if by a small maelstrom. Little by little, the sea rose in a conical point, making a rushing, roaring noise that was now plainly audible; little by little, the cloud sagged down to meet it. Then suddenly the sea and cloud met in a whirling column which lengthened as the cloud above seemed to rise rapidly.

  "Only a waterspout," said Bligh, after a glance aft. "Look alive, if I give the word."

  For a time it seemed to remain stationary, growing taller and thicker as if gathering its force. Then it began to move, bearing straight down on us.

  "Bear up," Bligh ordered the helmsman quietly. "Aye, so!" And, as the sails began to slat, "To the sheets, lads! Trim them flat!"

  We changed our course not a moment too soon. The cloud, now overhead, was as black as ink, with a kind of greenish pallor at its heart; we had not sailed fifty yards, close-hauled, when the waterspout passed astern of us, a sight of awe-inspiring majesty.

  All hands save Mr. Bligh stared at it in silent consternation. The column of water, many hundreds of feet high and thicker than the greatest oak in England, had a clear, glassy look and seemed to revolve with incredible rapidity. At its base, the sea churned and roared with a sound that would have made a loud shout inaudible. I doubt if any man in the boat was greatly afraid; we had gone through so much, and were so reduced by our sufferings, that death had become a matter of little moment. But even in my own state of weakness, I trembled in awe at this manifestation of God's majesty upon the deep. Not a word was spoken till the waterspout was half a mile distant and Bligh ordered the course changed once more.

  "Ledward," remarked Nelson coolly, in a weak voice, "I wouldn't have missed that for a thousand pounds!"

  "I have seen many of them," said Bligh, "though never so close. There's little danger, save at night..."

  He shut his mouth suddenly and bent double in a spasm of pain. Next moment his head was over the gunwale while he retched and vomited. After a long time he rinsed his mouth with sea water, and sat up ghastly pale.

  "Some water, Mr. Samuel," he managed to say. "Aye, a full half pint."

  The water sent him to the gunwale once more, and during the remainder of the afternoon Mr. Bligh was in a pitiable state. I believe that the liver of the dolphin must have been poisonous, as is said often to be the case; though it may be that Bligh had reached the state I was in, in which the exhausted stomach can no longer accept food. Though constantly retching and vomiting, and suffering from excruciating cramps, he refused to lie down; he kept an eye on our course between his paroxysms, and directed the trimming of the sails. At sunset he took a spoonful of wine, which his stomach retained, and seemed better for it.

  Though I no longer felt hunger or much pain, the night seemed interminably long. The moon came up at about ten o'clock, dead astern of us, and shone full in my face. I dozed, awoke, attempted to stretch my cramped legs, and dozed again. Sometimes I heard Nelson muttering in his sleep. The captain managed to doze for a time in the early hours of the night; when the moon was about two hours up, he relieved Fryer at the helm. The moon w
as at its zenith, from which I judged the time to be four in the morning, when Bligh roused Elphinstone, and again lay down to sleep. The wind was at east, and though the moonlight paled the stars, I could see the Southern Cross on our larboard beam.

  I had said nothing to the others of my fears, but for a day or two past I had had reason to suspect that Elphinstone's mind was giving way under the strain. He was as little wasted in body as any man in the launch, yet his vacant eye, his lack of interest in what went on about him, and his strange gestures and mutterings were symptoms of a failing mind, although there was no reason to think him unequal to his duties. When Bligh took him by the shoulder to waken him, he said "Aye, sir!" in a dull voice, and took the tiller mechanically.

  It was Peckover's watch; turning my head, I could see him seated with some others forward. His shoulders were bowed, and from time to time he nodded and caught himself, making heroic efforts to stay awake. A continual sound of faint groans and mutterings came from the men asleep in the bottom of the launch; dreamless sleep had been unknown to us for many days. Soon Bligh began to snore gently and irregularly.

  Elphinstone sat motionless at the tiller, staring ahead with a vacant expression on his face. I could see his lips move as he muttered to himself, but could hear no sound. Then for a time I dozed.

  It was still night when I awoke, though close to dawn. The master's mate was hunched at the helm, seeming scarcely to have moved since I glanced at him last. For a time I noticed nothing out of the way; then, looking over the gunwale, I perceived that the Cross was no longer on our beam. It was on the larboard bow; our course had been changed from west to southwest. Elphinstone leaned toward me.

  "The land!" he whispered eagerly. "Yonder, dead ahead! Take care! Don't waken Mr. Bligh!"

  I struggled with some difficulty into a position which enabled me to look forward. Peckover and the others sat sleeping, bowed on the thwarts. Ahead of the launch was only the vast moonlit sea, and an horizon empty save for a few scattered clouds.

  "Timor," whispered Elphinstone, triumphantly. "God's with us, Mr. Ledward! He caused the wind to shift to the northeast, so we're dead before it still. You see it now, eh? The mountains and the great valleys? A fine island, I'll be bound, where we'll find all we need!"

  He spoke with such sincerity that I looked ahead once more, beginning to doubt my own eyes; but I saw only the roll of the empty sea under the moon. Bligh stirred and struggled to a sitting position. He took in the situation at a glance.

  "What's this, Mr. Elphinstone?" he said in a harsh voice. "Who ordered you to change the course?"

  "The land, Captain Bligh! Look ahead! I steered for it when I sighted the mountains an hour ago."

  Bligh swung about to stare over the sea. "Land?" he said, as if doubting the evidence of his own senses. "Where?"

  "Dead ahead, sir. Can't you see the great valley yonder, and the high ridge above? It looks an island as rich as Otaheite!"

  Bligh gave me a quick glance. "Go forward, Mr. Elphinstone," he ordered. "Lie down at once and get some sleep."

  To my surprise, the master's mate said no more about the land, but gave the tiller to Bligh and made his way forward amongst the sleeping men. His face wore the mild, vacant expression of a man walking in his sleep.

  "Mr. Peckover!" called Bligh harshly.

  The gunner started a little and straightened his back slowly. "Aye, aye, sir!" he said.

  "Don't let me catch you sleeping on watch again! You and those with you might have been the ruin of us all!" The other members of the watch were stirring, and the captain went on: "I'm going to wear. To the halyards! Get her on the starboard tack!"

  When the halyards had been slacked away and the yards of our lugsails passed around to the larboard sides of the masts, Bligh bore up to the west, and the men trimmed the sails to the northeast wind.

  This day, the eleventh of June, seemed the longest of my life. They had eaten the last of the dolphin the night before, and at sunrise a quarter of a pint of water and our usual allowance of bread were issued. I drank the water, but could not eat the bread. The captain made a grimace in spite of himself as he raised his morsel of bread to his mouth, but he munched it heroically, nevertheless, and contrived to keep it down. The boatswain had administered a spoonful of wine to Lebogue, and was coming to do the like for Nelson and me. Stepping over the after thwart with the bottle in his hand, he came face to face with Bligh, while an expression of horror came into his eyes.

  "Sir," he said solicitously, "ye look worse'n any man in the launch. Ye'd best have a drop o' this."

  Bligh smiled at the old fellow's simplicity, and said: "I'll pay you a handsomer compliment, Mr. Cole: you have lasted better than many of the younger men...No, no wine for me. There are those who need it more."

  Cole touched his forelock and turned to serve me, shaking his head.

  I lay half dozing whilst the sun crawled interminably toward the zenith. Sometimes I opened my eyes after what seemed the passage of hours, only to discover that the shadow of the helmsman had shortened by no more than an inch. My whole life, up to the time we had left Tofoa, seemed but an instant beside the eternity I had spent in the boat, and on this day, after a long process of slowing down, I felt that time had come to a halt at last: I had always been sailing west before a fresh easterly breeze, with the sun stationary and low behind the launch, and would sail thus forever and ever, on a limitless plain of tossing blue, unbroken by any land. And Mr. Bligh would always hold the tiller--a scarecrow clad in grotesque rags, with a turban made of an old pair of trousers on his head.

  * * *

  Noon came at last, and Cole took the tiller while the master and Peckover held Bligh up to take the altitude of the sun. Owing to his own weakness and that of the men supporting him, he had difficulty in getting his sight; though not breaking, the sea was confused, and the launch tossed and pitched uncertainly. After some time, he handed his sextant to the master and sat down to work out our position. Finally he looked up.

  "Our latitude is nine degrees, forty-one minutes south," he said; "that of the middle portion of Timor. By my reckoning, we have traversed thirteen and one-half degrees of longitude since leaving Shoal Cape,--more than eight hundred miles,--and to the best of my recollection the most easterly part of Timor is laid down in one hundred and twenty-eight degrees east longitude, a meridian we must have passed."

  "When shall we raise the land, sir?" the boatswain asked.

  "During the night or early in the morning. We must keep a sharp lookout to-night."

  Toward sunset, when I awoke from a long doze, there were great numbers of sea birds about. Lying on my back, I could see them passing and repassing overhead. Tinkler contrived to strike down one booby with the spare yard we had cut at Restoration Island, but the others took warning .at this and avoided the boat. The bird was reserved for the next day, but I was offered a wineglass of its blood, which I managed to swallow only to vomit it up instantly. There was much rock weed around us, and coconut husks so fresh that they were still bright yellow in colour.

  Darkness came, and still the wind held steady and fair. Every man able to sit up was on the thwarts, staring out over the tossing sea ahead, dimly visible in the light of the stars.

  Like a sentient being, aware that the end of her long journey was at hand, the launch now seemed to surpass herself. With all sail set and drawing, she raced westward, shipping so little water that there was little need to bail. Sometimes the people were silent; sometimes I heard them speaking in low tones. I was aware of an undercurrent of new courage and confidence, of deep contentment that our trials were so nearly at an end. Not once during the long voyage had their faith in Mr. Bligh waned; he had declared that we should raise the land by morning, and that was enough.

  It must have been nearly eleven o'clock when the moon rose, directly astern of the launch: a bright half-moon, sailing a cloudless sky. Hour after hour, as the moon climbed the heavens, the launch ran westward, whilst we listened to the cr
isp sound of water rushing under her keel.

  Even old Lebogue revived a little at this time. No man of us had endured more grievous suffering, and yet he had borne his part in the work when others no weaker than himself lay helpless.

  Bligh had taken the tiller at midnight, after an attempt to sleep; and toward three in the morning, when the moon was high above the horizon astern, young Tinkler stepped up on to the after thwart to peer ahead. He stood there for some time, swaying to the motion of the boat, with hands cupped above his eyes. Then he sprang down to face the captain.

  "The land, sir!" he exclaimed in a shaking voice.

  Bligh motioned Fryer to take the helm, and stood up. I heard a burst of talk forward: "Only a cloud!"

  "No, no! Land, and high land too!" Then, as the launch reared high on a swell, we saw the shadowy outlines of the land ahead: pale, lofty, and unsubstantial in the light of the moon, a great island still many miles distant, stretching far away to the northeast and southwest. The captain stared ahead long and earnestly before he spoke.

  "Timor, lads!" he said.

  CHAPTER XII

  There were some who doubted the landfall, who could not believe that the goal of our voyage was actually in sight. For all Mr. Bligh's quiet assurance, and the boatswain's repeated "Aye, lad! There's the land--never a doubt of it!" they dared not believe, lest day should come and the dim outlines melt into the shapes of distant clouds. We hauled on a wind to the northeast, and those who could stood on the thwarts from time to time, their confidence in what they saw increasing from moment to moment. Some could do no more than raise themselves to a sitting position in the bottom of the launch, clinging to the thwarts or to the gunwales as they stared ahead.

  Veil after veil of moonlit obscurity was drawn aside, and at last, in the clear light of early dawn, there it lay: Paradise itself, it seemed, its lofty outlines filling half the circle of the horizon, bearing from S.W. to N.E. by E. The sun rose, its shafts of level, golden light striking across promontory after promontory. We saw great valleys filled with purple shadow, and, high above the coast, forests appeared, interspersed with glades and lawns that might well have been the haunts where our first parents wandered in the innocence of the world.