Imágenes de página
PDF
ePub

I decided that the skipper We all jumped up. An did not like that particular angry wave dashed against the topic of conversation, and, hav- porthole like the rush of a ing exhausted all others, I mad bull. The ship staggered, bade him good-night and de- heeled over, and with a thunscended down the narrow com- derous roar a huge wave swept panion into the one and only the deck just above us, the cabin, in which my three com- remnants of which poured down panions were now thoroughly through numerous openings into embedded. Slumber filled the our cabin, till the place looked place like a dense gas. Sounds like the grotto of some cavern. of snoring and heavy breathing "God! what a night! I greeted me. I snuggled into exclaimed. my bunk, and lay there listening to those unmusical sounds. The ship rose and fell, and the timbers creaked.

"Stop that bally trumpeting," I shouted, now thoroughly exasperated.

The Consul stirred, then chuckled, and soon began snorting again like a rhinoceros.

"I'm for the deck," and the Consul disappeared.

"Ye gods! Phew! Everything shut up!" It was like a Turkish bath. Then sleep overtook me, and I have no doubt that I added my snores and groans to the general the the general chorus.

It must have been some hours later, although it only seemed like a few minutes, when I awakened with a start.

"Good God, what the!" "I'm going up on deck," Chatsworth confided to me. "Things look bad."

The ship was heaving, tossing, sinking, rising, side-slipping, and the wind was shrieking. A blast of salty air and the door shut again.

""Fraid we are for it!" shouted Chatsworth through the skylight. "It's a norther, sure enough."

The wind shrieked as he opened the hatch, which closed with a slam behind him. The captain was exhorting his crew to superhuman efforts. The storm, as these northers do, had descended upon us almost without warning, and we had been caught in full rig. This terrible danger threatened to overturn us. The sails must be lowered or we should capsize. Chatsworth manfully took the tiller, and the Consul wedged himself in close alongside, ready to relieve him. Both of them, fortunately, knew something about yachting. The supercargo and I remained below. When you can't help, don't hinder, was our policy. We hung on like grim death to our bunk posts, and even then it was all we could do to keep our feet, but broken arms, legs, or injuries of any kind must be avoided at all costs.

"Your confounded sugar is going to get wet, mein freund," I managed to hurl at the supercargo between our acrobatic performances.

"It's only a bad squall. It will be all right soon," he maintained doggedly.

panion. I leapt up the steps and pushed open the hatch. "Here it

Bang! and the hatch shut with a slap and knocked me down the companion. Bruises

I admired the fellow's deliberate courage, but did not share his optimism. "Bad indeed! Damn bad, didn't matter at that moment.

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

The hatchet was necessary to save the ship, and I dashed up the companion, pushed the hatch open and wedged myself in securely. Somebody snatched it from me and disappeared. Then a punch from a giant wave, a heave over to starboard, the Consul's big form loomed ominously in the darkness as he reeled, stumbled forward, and landed on his head into the scuppers. This was no time to be shut in, and I stood there at the top of the companion. The crew were hacking away at the mainsail.

"I can do no more," cried Chatsworth. "I'm done, and she's out of control."

He had been there nearly three hours.

"Make an effort to turn her round," I urged.

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

again, and the ship floundered burst upon us. Ugh! it was like a duck without wings.

"Hopeless!" screamed Chats

worth. "I can do no more. Cut away the main-sheet." But the crew were already engaged on this dangerous job. The morning light appeared, and with it new courage. Every man fought with that sail, and down it came, but flapping like some colossal bird. Then the waves caught and held it to the waters. The light was coming, but a hopeless dawn indeed, for far from abating the storm seemed to be increasing in intensity. The waves surrounded our now derelict craft like a pack of hungry wolves. Breathless from looking into the wind and nearly blind with salt spray, I twisted round-no easy matter, but the raincoat which I was wearing over my pyjamas caught. "Hell!" To let go meant going overboard. It was now over my head. I fought like mad, mad with anger. Something tore. I extricated an arm; now the other, and away it went, hurtling upwards and over into the sea. Now I could scan right to the horizon. The blinding rain had ceased, and we were left with a mudgrey sky and a wind that seemed to issue from a funnel. There they were, as far as the eye could see, the shameless hussies, bobbing up and down like disgraceful and abandoned dancers. This leg, that leg, up, down, and the wind screaming with delight at their mad revelry, until another deluge

cold.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

moments passed almost of unendurable anxiety, whilst with muscles nerved to the last pitch we kept our hold on the battered ship, our hold on life itself. To-morrow, perhaps, the sun would be shining. Should we be basking in its life-giving rays, or would the moon this very night leer on our cold lifeless bodies? Perish the thought! We'd fight.

Presently the ship began to jolt, then bump! And we all went headlong. The Molinero had stuck in the sand. Picking ourselves up we made a dash for the cabin to snatch a few belongings.

"Here, take this," urged the Consul. "I feel it will be safe in your keeping," and handed me his watch.

I burst out laughing for the first time on that perilous night. His face looked almost saintly.

"My God, where do you think I'm going to with it? Up the rigging?"

I remember putting it in the highest spot in the cabin, when a wave came pouring down the hatch. We were trappeddoor shut against us by water pressure-we flung ourselves against it-it flew open, the wave had passed-fought our way on deck, and then for'ard. A thunderous clanking, and a water-tank went over. Valdo sustained a slight injury, nothing serious. Chatsworth put on a lifebelt.

frivolous thoughts strike you at perilous moments.

"Sálvese el que pueda !" (Save himself who can!) the captain shouted.

The crew were already overboard and swimming for dear life.

"I'm off!" I cried.

"Not yet," urged Chatsworth.

[ocr errors]

"Yes, before we are injured. Jump in behind me, quick! and I leapt into the waves. Down I went into about eight feet of water and touched the soft sand, but I didn't seem to come up.

"What the blazes," I thought, "can have happened." Then I realised that the ship, which was swaying, kept sucking me under. I made furious attempts to free myself, and at last gave a vicious push with one leg up against the side. That did it. Up I came, and was swept away by a wave. I seemed to travel through a densely packed soundless medium, dark green, light green, lighter, and once again the roar of wind and sea.

I lay still in the trough, and waited for the next. Then on again as each successive racing monster, with their long sloping bodies and curly heads, bore me shorewards. At last I touched the sand and stood up, but was instantly swept off my feet again, and back into the trough. Now one final effort. I would make sure of it this

"Can't swim. Can I have time, and I swam till my belly this?" he said calmly.

I remember it looked like an Elizabethan collar. Funny how

grazed the sandy shore, and dugmy fingers in until the receding wave had lost its

subtle power. I walked a few paces, and fell exhausted. That battle under the ship had nearly finished me. Recovering my breath, I sat up and looked round. Where were the others Ah, the supercargo fully dressed, even to his tie. He shook himself like a mastiff, but was as calm as ever. Then the Consul, large and nearly naked, swearing volubly about the stupidity of taking voyages with mad Englishmen, and when fully recovered vowed that U.S.A. would have to send a cruiser the next time he was ordered to visit this coast. Now Valdo and Chatsworth the trusty fellow had kept close to him all the time. Chatsworth walked up the sandy beach, holding something high above his head.

[ocr errors]

'What on earth have you got there?" I asked.

"My passport. You see I was afraid I might have trouble with the authorities, but I fear it's wet," and he stood there looking at me as serious as an owl.

"If that doesn't beat the band!" I exclaimed. "It was the devil you nearly had trouble with, and he'd have burnt it."

Finally, the captain, who also could not swim, floated in on a life-belt. He had been caught up in the anchor-chains, which I am told very nearly drowned him. We all collected together. It was good to be alive and feel mother earth again. The truth is that few of us know how much we appreciate life until we come

near to losing it, but we were perishingly cold, and were glad to see some Indians approaching us. They had been watching our struggles since daylight. We followed them back to their huts.

"I don't feel like tramping across half Honduras. What do we do next, Chatsworth?" "You don't imagine I should have been so careless as to wreck you where there was no railway, do you? The station of Buenavista, with the railway line, is about two hundred yards through those trees. belongs to the fruit companies, and is the only one in this part of the country."

"The devil it is! Think of that, America," I said, addressing the Consul. "There's only one railway in what you would call this God-damn country, and we have been thrown on top of it."

"I would have you know that I should have used no such phraseology," the Consul objected.

"Then all I can say is, you're not from Texas."

But Washington's representative was busily engaged in endeavouring to cover his Central American parts with his scant and tattered clothing. The Indians took us into their huts and gave us strong drink. We shed our wet things, and despatched a messenger down the line to the town of Omoa, asking that a workman's trolley should be sent for us. Covered with blankets, we then slept soundly for several hours, but on

« AnteriorContinuar »