by Steve Aylett
5th June. SSN. Shortage of meat and provisions which cannot be explained. Am in process of checking cargo books. New bosun - Piper. Forfang tripped on the cathead and flew into a rage, breaking his own leg.
6th June. SWE. Provisions underloaded. Gathered crew on deck to inform them but could not make myself heard above the thunder and waves. Forfang hurled heavy barrel at my countenance. Harker continually pees over rail.
7th June. WWN? Leggahorn taught crew hornpipe dance on deck - seven overboard. Spoke to Batch in cabin about his duties as apprentice, but he was knocked out by falling ceiling. News of provisions provoked Berringer to wail ‘That’s it lads, we’re done for - damned to hell one and all.’ Could not help but admire his attempts at diplomacy.
8th June. Strolled the deck today, supervised manning of crossjack braces. Parkins and others swore at me through wind and rain. Turtle blown aboard. Hit Leggahorn while laughing on starboard rail. Bad omen.
9th June. Am worried about ship’s doctor, who on boarding ship at start of voyage, was suffering from typhoid. Had to retire straightway to rest and nursing by Mate, Leggahorn. Weather still stormy. Batch joined us for dinner - turtle. Flippers had been stolen by certain members of crew, who attached them to their ears and performed demonic ritual. Had those responsible scrub deck, but were washed overboard. Memorial service held, but was washed overboard. All now fastened below save for Harker, who is peeing over rail.
10th June. A glorious morning. Calm sea. Sail repairs going ahead well. Blue skies and fair sailing. Forfang in good spirits, despite broken leg. First mate singing on deck. Ten overboard.
11th June. Fair weather continues. Mr Byron sets his features and lashes himself to the wheel. About midday Forfang punched First Mate Leggahorn, who had been standing in good humour on the poop. Forfang unrepentant. John Tunny tried to heave him overboard, but Forfang knocked him out with lower brace. All’s well.
12th June. Had the crew mending sails. Hold taking in water. Took Batch to rail and spoke of the sea. Showed him how to annoy the Hammerheads.
13th June. Spoke to Forfang about his dribbling, at which he took a fragment of plank and attempted to strike me, screaming and foaming as Leggahorn wrestled him out of cabin. Polished my chinaware.
14th June. Bosun devoured by second mate. Laughter.
15th June. Fair weather. Sails and Forfang bellying out. Position uncertain. Crew either working well, sleeping, or drowned. Exception is Harker, who seems never to cease peeing over rail.
16th June. Berringer calculates that following our present course and allowing for cross-currents our position will be ‘the death’ of him. While shaving in clear air on deck, Forfang reminded me about the mizzen topgallant bunt lines which were severely damaged in storm, and gaining an unsteady grip upon my leg, tried in fits and starts to pitch me over port rail. Making headway in steady wind. Leggahorn at hold ceiling supervising repairs.
17th June. Position still uncertain. Gathered all my charts and instruments together and bundled down to the cook with them, but he was of no aid whatsoever. Stood on forecastle, watching sunset. Perhaps I am becoming a broken man.
18th June. Leggahorn told amusing joke at dinner - pig and trampoline. Will repeat it to Lord Cochrane. Hurled bottles at Hammerheads and watched them becoming annoyed. Gave rat some bread.
19th June. Spoke to sailmaker at work on the poop, and was hit by flying mackerel. Sailmaker, looking up from his work at that moment, collapsed hollering with laughter. Had finally to be carried below and given a whiff of salts.
20th June. Found tiny terrapin on deck. Laughed and laughed. Have determined to nurse it back to health. New bosun - Landis - drowned in his own snot.
21st June. Assembled crew on deck and told them joke - pig and trampoline. One man shouted an obscenity but the others laughed. Repairs still underway.
22nd June. Albatross for dinner. Bad omen.
23rd June. Forfang forced my head through porthole and wrenched at it from other side, with able help from all hands. Cried out loudly for assistance, and Leggahorn appeared in high spirits, eating grapes one by one and attempting to lighten my mood with quips. Onset of darkness put an end to their exertions. All’s well.
24th June. Heard more reports of Harker peeing over rail for long hours. Went up on deck and confronted him. He was peeing over rail. ‘Listen to me, man, all this peeing over the rail has got to stop,’ I told him. He merely looked a little pained and hurt - I went away feeling somewhat ashamed. Cast a glance back and found he was peeing over rail. Suppose he has designs on the Captaincy.
25th June. Alarmed by the change in Batch, the apprentice, who has taken to standing unrobed in entrances. Unresponsive to my offer of an orange, or indeed to anything. Confronted Berringer on deck and suggested that we consult the charts together, to which he replied that I should go below and consult ‘the devil’. Forfang turned to me today and yelled piercingly. Appointed new bosun - Parkins - who on hearing news jumped overboard.
26th June. First Mate Leggahorn informs me that crew have taken to eating their trousers. Told him joke about snail and theatre ticket. Laughter.
27th June. Hearing violent shaking of canvas, went forward to see cause. Only Batch prodding it with oar. Crew in low spirits. Attempted jollity by hurling starfish in artful manner, but hit Forfang in face.
28th June. Leggahorn gave swimming lesson off fore-castle to Tobias, burly cargo loader, who was taken up by waves and slammed insensible against our bows.
29th June. Went below to visit doctor, who gripped my arm and gasped something about ‘damnation’.
30th June. Ship adrift on still water - no wind at all. New bosun - White. Much perturbation caused by Batch standing at rails and grieving that he saw a rhino in the water, and called for hours that crew go to its aid, but none else aboard saw such a hapless beast. Leggahorn and myself questioned cook as to likelihood, but he seemed unable to answer.
1st July. Watched the sneering Hammerheads. Mr Byron unlashed himself from wheel and fell to deck with groan. Leggahorn and myself sat on the quarterdeck, sketching dogs from memory. Batch stood amidships and upended rum-barrel on head, standing in silence thereof a full hour. John Conk mutters about sausages.
2nd July. Bosun yelled ‘Green fields - baloo...!’ and leapt from the foremast. Memorial service disrupted by Forfang discharging musket at surfacing pilchard.
3rd July. Nobody remembers what we are carrying, and I must confess our destination eludes me. Batch says it may have been coconuts. Harker pees over rail. Leggahorn says if we cannot remember it it cannot be important. John Tunny grasps me by the arm and moves his lips without a sound.
4th July. Had to belay Forfang’s order that crew eat their own legs, though crew clearly dismayed at sudden change of plan. Still no wind. Rats uneasy.
5th July. Still no wind. John Conk entertains crew by kicking his own head. Leggahorn makes a cloth effigy of his mother. I stay below, practising mime.
6th July. Investigated hold with lamp. Found dry pickle on shelf. And book filled with pictures of swans. Several upright beams - probably part of ship. Three empty barrels - one so covered in moss that I have installed it in my cabin as a comfortable chair. Leggahorn offered to organise what he termed a ‘snot party’ in the hold, but I did not question him further.
7th July. Wind picked up. Leggahorn knocked unconscious falling from hammock. Hazlitt fired musket at surfacing blowfish - target exploded with great velocity, blinding him in one eye. New bosun - Fennel - constantly rounds on imaginary attackers and screams of a ‘conspiracy’. Crew stare at me through rigging. Rat overboard rescued by Mr Byron.
8th July. Heavy seas. Confronted Berringer on deck and commended him for his skill as a mariner - a remark which provoked him to spit into the wind and yell inaudibly through the crash of the waves, holding up a jellyfish and tearing it in half and jabbing a finger at my chest. Told him to keep up the good work, and went to supervise manning of braces.
9th July. Af
ter brief survey it seems nobody remembers name of ship. Searched cabin books unsuccessfully for reference. Batch says it may have been Coconuts. Big sea aboard. Nobody on deck save for Harker peeing over rail. Ventured above in coats and seaboots, confronted him at rail. Bellowed over the storm that he should go below. He replied that the men would not approve of his peeing down there. I suggested with a mighty yell that he might cease peeing, but his expression as he turned to me was disconcertingly blank.
10th July. Heavy seas. Lowered Forfang over side to read name of ship. Hauled up claiming to have seen a bison. Three men overboard. Forfang informs us with a gasp of exhaustion that he was never taught to read.
11th July. Damage done to navigational equipment by Leggahorn with sledgehammer during storm. Some charts soaked in cabin spillage, others eaten for dinner by Leggahorn, second mate and myself. Story about broken fruit - how we roared!
12th July. Bosun began rounding on himself and careering across the quarterdeck, punching his own nose. Leggahorn told him to simmer down but he started up again in the afternoon, juddering amidships and pitching over rail. Memorial service disrupted when Forfang hollered from the ranks that the hull was covered in edible crustacea and all hands leapt overboard.
13th July. Fair weather today. Interrupted Berringer as he was hauling on main braces. Halting his oaths in mid-volley he turned to me and spat in recognition. Asked him how long he had been a mariner, to which he replied twenty-five ‘bloodthirsty’ years, and added ‘in God’s name’ that he would not be here today were it not for the charity of my ‘black and empty’ heart. I thanked him and he struck my countenance, at which crew’s spirits revived and they struck up a shanty, dancing lustily on deck. Twenty overboard.
14th July. Sentenced Batch to fifty lashes for tugging on lantern. Piped all hands amidships to witness punishment, but were washed overboard. Forfang and I caught in the mizzen braces, where waves soon rendered us senseless. Leggahorn remained below, smoking my pipe and reading Smollett.
15th July. Hazlitt fired harpoon at surfacing anchovy - complains that loss of eye affects his aim. Became offended at my suggestion that he choose a larger target. I stayed in cabin for the rest of day, trying to remember my name.
16th July. Issued pay today, with lukewarm response from crew - many looked blankly at money without recognition, and some, after brief examination, swallowed it down. Bad omen.
17th July. Having a fair wind, set our foresail and ran aground with a sound which Leggahorn compared to ‘the shout of a moose’ - indeed he blocked the passageway for several moments laughing uproariously as I tried to go above. Found that most of crew on deck were similarly occupied, bent double and hollering with mirth despite damage to vessel. Black outcrop towered over sails and big sea spumed out of the breakers. Harker yelled while peeing over rail that the only individual capable of mending that kind of damage was the god of hellfire. Leggahorn put a comforting hand on my shoulder and was washed overboard. Consulted cook, who held up biscuit and ranted, pointing at it and himself with loud assertions. Taking on water - crew disheartened at having to sleep in rigging.
18th July. Myself, Leggahorn and John Tunny entered cargo hold and rowed across in barrels to inspect hull damage. Leggahorn held lantern under visage and contorted his countenance. Informed him of the graveness of our careers. Laughter. Outcrop intruded through gash in hull - John Tunny suggested we keep it for ballast. He and Mr Byron created powder keg ignited with muskets, setting sails alight and ship adrift. Bows full to stern. Spider in cabin!
19th July. Navigating shores of this dark isle hindered by list of vessel to starboard. Concerned for crew, who are so long at sea that they seem unaware of land’s significance. Hazlitt voiced the uncertain opinion that it was some sort of pudding. Mr Byron states openly that he would like to have the wheel ‘covered in wool’. Weather calm and warm. Gave Leggahorn fifty lashes for molesting figurehead.
20th July. Came upon palmy bay and resolved to go ashore. Commanded Mr Byron to let go the anchor, but he remained unmoved. Took the efforts of eight men to wrestle it from him, provoking his tears. Told him to get a grip on himself. Left him aboard with Harker. Rowing out, saw that ship was called The Iguana. Crew disconcerted. On landing, crew ignored my instructions on unloading of provisions and ran hollering into the jungle. I camp alone this night under tree. Used lamp to signal ship that all is well.
21st July. Crew came bellowing out of the jungle covered in mud. Leggahorn reported that he had discovered something of importance, then showed me his belly and ran away. Hazlitt walked laughing down the beach, arms akimbo and a melon balanced on his head. John Conk passed by, kneeing himself in the groin. Forfang beat the life out of me with an oar and told of a crocodile encountered in jungle. Spoke alarmingly of his attempts to ‘embrace’ it, an enterprise thwarted by the depths of an interceding stream. Hazlitt repeatedly fired musket at sand and broke into hysterical laughter. Leggahorn told him to speak his mind, then showed him his belly and ran away. Forfang missing in jungle. Crew buried me and fell into drunken stupor.
22nd July. Crew amused themselves with shooting at coconuts into which were carved my own features. Excused myself and went for a brisk swim.
23rd July. Savages attacked as I attempted to entertain crew with impersonation of hen - took us prisoner and broke our spirit by pouring rum into the sea. Leggahorn screams incessantly. John Conk shakes like a patient of Bedlam. Ordered Berringer to communicate our friendly regards to the savages, at which he grasped the arm of one and began to sob openly. Hazlitt cheerily remarks upon our good fortune at not being washed into sea when we were vomiting earlier.
24th July. Savages tied us down and clubbed what Berringer translated as ‘the living bloody daylights’ out of us with branches. Batch tells us about Moses and then rouses indignation by breaking into laughter. Berringer has identified our location as ‘the devil’s own continent’ and indeed there are countless snakes.
25th July. Savages clubbed us again, wearing colourful masks today and pausing only briefly to answer my enquiries. Berringer said that their masks were ‘Gali-masks’ and that they referred to the snakes as ‘Bo-Mambas’, which are apparently capable of ‘sucking the ruddy life out of the lot of us’. Have determined to take on the responsibility of Batch’s education - informed me today that he had forgotten the meaning of the word ‘happiness’.
26th July. Savages clubbed us again today. I advised Berringer to comb his beard. His snarled, spitting response was inaudible above the screaming of his crewmates.
27th July. Savages stated today while clubbing us that it was their intention to ‘bake’ us and dine ‘laughing’ upon our scorched frames. Leggahorn stares at me. Morale low.
28th July. Expended arduous thought on how to deal with savages. Leggahorn suggests I promote them to bosun. Conferred with cook, who responded with loud access of sobbing. Savages count our limbs and draw calculations in sand, chattering with easy laughter and rupturing tree-trunks with their bare hands.
29th July. Savages scattered by crocodile which came thrashing out of the jungle and up to Berringer, biting his arm and lying beside us with a leer. Our screams rose immediately in pitch but this seemed only to increase its amusement. Forfang appeared and we begged him to loose our bonds, which he accomplished by firing among us with a musket. John Conk fainted. The rest of us screamed with such abandon that the savages ran to our aid, scattering again under Forfang’s fire. Untied, a relieved Leggahorn thanked Forfang with a gasp of exhaustion and knocked him senseless with a rock.
30th July. Surveyed ship with spyglass. Saw Harker, peeing over rail. Signalled with musket that all is well. Mr Byron fired back, wounding Hazlitt and sending crew hollering into jungle. Forfang takes crocodile on lead during exploration. Weary round-robin naming of reptile, during which I vote heartily for Jonathan - crew spat into fire and agreed on ‘Darly’. John Tunny added with a sneer that it was probably just some animal ‘made of leather’. It is good to see them t
aking an interest.
31st July. Instructed several of crew as to difference between ferns and coconuts, with orders to load the ship with coconuts and freshwater. Myself, Leggahorn and others penetrated deep into the jungle, exploring the area where Forfang ‘had his frenzy’, Hazlitt ‘carved a chimp’ and Leggahorn apparently ‘talked for hours about steam’. Soon, however, we were in unexplored territory and John Conk began whining and repeatedly blowing his nose. Discovered many temples dedicated to the worship of snakes, gazelle and other insects. Our guide, a savage whom Berringer refers to as ‘Death’, told us that many rituals took place here, including one during which a toad was pulverised by a heavy stone mallet, sacrificed to the infernal fury of the god Rakata, and examined. Crew prayed before a few stone images and left earrings, trousers and such as tribute. Returned to find ship filled with ferns. Shall remain another day.
1st August. Gathered coconuts and spoke of our adventures. Berringer joked that he was a wanted man and showed us a dagger, claiming that it was ‘the very one’. Batch surprised us all by strangling a trout. Forfang tried to ride on Darly’s back but kept dismounting in a hurry. Leggahorn and I exchanged jokes about ash - how we roared!
2nd August. Crew gathered coconuts and taught Death a hornpipe dance. Results were so unnerving that everyone begged his assurance that he would not repeat it. Berringer gripped my arm and brandished a fistful of seaweed at me with sundry assertions. Told him to ‘simmer down’. Consulted cook as to sailing conditions, at which he retreated deep into jungle. Dawson entertained us with a song about bats. John Conk kept time by clubbing his own head. Hazlitt began to rant and drowned his accordion. All’s well.
3rd August. Gave John Tunny fifty lashes for raping a dove. Leggahorn said he was tired of supervising loading of coconuts and ran around camp showing everyone his belly. Forfang remarked rampantly upon my neglect in failing to converse with crocodile, and stood over me watching my initial efforts. Having knelt and bid the beast Good-day I could not establish as to whether it was well and Forfang kicked me away with a roar. Berringer told us of his time at Clerkenwell. Laughter.
