There
is a constant heavy swell and very little wind. The
noise
below resembles a barrage. Of course, it is ruininq
the
gear and straining the ship, but I do not see how I can
avoid
it. With the trysail set instead of the mainsail
things
were nearly as bad and we made no progress. We
have
got to make port sometime or other, and there is no
reason
to believe that next week will be any better than
this.
My mother will probably go off her head if she does
not
hear from me soon, and she will probably worry Rab
into
chartering the English and American fleets to look
for
us. Rab has read all the stuff about the Northeast
Trades
in Ocean Passages: wind from north-east varying
only
a couple of points, force 3 to 6, cloudless, rainless
weather,
etc. This is how I would describe the North-east
Trades:
'Wind either north or east-north-east, or south or
east-south-east,
usual force either 1 or 7 with nothing in
between.
The normal condition is either heavy rain
squalls
or dead calms. The sky is usually covered with
heavy
clouds.' However, this is all by the way, I have
quite
started to enjoy life again, though I am becoming a
likely
candidate for the league of moral men. I am rationed
down
to four cigarettes a day, and I have not had a blind
for
twenty-eight days.'
On
November 19th we had a violent squall lasting
about
two and a half hours; it kicked up a most un-
pleasant
short sea such as you meet in the shallow waters
of
the Channel. Jenkins said it reminded him of the Port-
land
Race.
On
November 20th Jack scored the second gybe. The
wind
had dropped to nothing and then blew suddenly
from
three points nearer to the north. No damage was
done,
but I remember thinking: 'It will be my turn next,
and
I will probably carry away the boom.' My observed
position
that day at 4.55 p.m. was 11 degrees 20' North,
56
degrees 57 West, about 240 miles from the north-east
58
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
point
of Trinidad. The glass fell two-tenths that day, and
the
evening looked rather threatening. I noted in my log:
'Jenkins
is happy to-night, but I am slightly uneasy. As
soon
as we get near land I always begin to fidget. We are
so
near now, and I do so want to bring this voyage to a
successful
conclusion after all the croaking of the wise-
acres.
Trinidad was certainly a foolish place to make for
according
to the Pilot Book. I should think it is an even
chance
our getting swept past it. On the other hand, what
a
lovely place to go through-the Boca Grande of the
Dragon's
Mouth, christened by Columbus. Which re-
minds
me that we have come by almost the same route as
Columbus
came.'
On
November 21st, just as I was going to take my
meridian
altitude, I noticed a very thick rain cloud was
about
to cover the sun. I sent Jenkins below to clock my
observations,
as it was very important I should get my
true
latitude. Seven minutes before noon the sun's alti-
tude
was 58 degrees 52'. One minute later I took an altitude
again
while the sun was shining through the rain. The
altitude
had jumped to 60 degrees 1'-refraction, I suppose.
Estimating
my latitude from ex-meridian table, I made my
latitude
10 degrees 41', which put me twenty-two miles south
of
my dead reckoning. I ignored the altitude I had taken
through
the rain, which would have put me over sixty
miles
further south, but I was not able to get an observa-
tion
for a position line all that day, and I was rather
worried.
The alternation of calms and heavy squalls in-
creased
in rapidity and the wind was constantly shifting.
At
night steering was particularly difficult. The wind
came
from one quarter, then it would drop and every-
thing
would be blotted out. Then it would suddenly blow
hard
from another quarter, while you were quite blinded
by
the rain. A few minutes later you were tossed about in
the
calm by a heavy swell. Several times I ought to have
TENERIFE
TO TRINIDAD 59
lowered
the mainsail, but it would have been too great a
strain
on the crew. Jenkins was getting more and more
worn
and seldom smiled. It was at this time he swore he
would
never go to sea again. Of course, he had never been
to
sea in a small boat before and had never been hove-to
in
a gale. His chief worry was that we had not got a wire-
less
for S.O.S. purposes. However he did what had to be
done
with extreme efficiency. Jack cussed and damned
and
was fed to the teeth with the whole business, but he
never
showed any sign of alarm. We saw our first steamer
that
day.
I
was worried during the night of the 21st to 22nd, as
we
began to move at last and I was uncertain of my
position,
owing to the rain having obscured the sun just
before
I took my meridian altitude. I took a position line
at
eight on the morning of November 22nd, but I had
breakfast
before plotting it out. I found Jenkins' clocking,
although
I had taken eleven observations, was quite un-
reliable,
and there was no way of discovering the minute.
I
took another series, and again found he had been mixing
up
the minutes. I then took a third series and fell down
the
companion after each one in order to note the minute
myself.
I got a good meridian altitude, and my observed
position
at noon was 11 degrees 5' North, 59 degrees 5' West,
and
the log read 2,676 miles. That made me about sixty miles
from
Tobago Island, and to our joy, we sighted it at two
o'clock,
on our starboard beam. I had got rather too far
to
the north, for we had been steering west north-west
during
the night, instead of west by north. I gybed and
altered
the course to west by south as soon as I got my
meridian
altitude. We made out Scarborough Light on
the
east side of Tobago Island at dusk, and Galera Light
on
the north-east corner of Trinidad a few minutes later.
We
had been sailing fast all day with a strong and steady
wind
which held till about ten o'clock that night.
60
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
I
began to dance about like a cat on hot bricks as soon
as
we sighted land. My pleasure at having picked up land
as
I intended was swamped in my anxiety not to make
any
mistake now. I made Jack and Jenkins steer four
hours
on and four hours off, and spent my time taking
bearings
of the lights and poring over the charts. The
current
was setting very strongly over Wasp Shoal,
which
is off the south-east end of Tobago Island, and I kept
altering
my course to the south. By two in the morning,
we
were about two miles from the coast of Trinidad and
about
fifteen miles from the Dragon's Mouth, and the
wind
was very light and we were making about one knot.
I
got a couple of hours sleep and told Jenkins to wake me
at
dawn.
It
was a lovely dawn, the first we had seen over the
land
for thirty-five days. The north coast of Trinidad is
high
and steep. The mountain peaks were covered in
white
cloud and as the sun caught them they turned gold
and
rose. Jenkins and I both said it was a sunrise we
would
never forget.
Everything
then looked propitious. We had about
twelve
miles to go to the Boca Grande, and the tide was
due
to flow into the Dragon's Mouth at about ten o'clock.
According
to the pilot book, we should have had a fair
breeze
at about nine o'clock, increasing in strength till
midday.
But, as usual, the winds refused to follow instruc-
tions.
At eleven o'clock we were just opposite the Boca
Huevos,
or Umbrella Channel. Then at last we got a stiff
breeze
which was obviously a nice quartering wind to
take
us through this passage. The pilot book said that the
passage
through the Umbrella Channel was justifiable
with
a commanding breeze, which we certainly had. So,
as
it saved many miles, I decided to try it. We went up it
like
a train until we were about 400 yards from the end.
Then
the breeze fell light and we drifted back ignomini-
TENERIFE
TO TRINIDAD 61
ously.
Then to tantalize us, it blew hard again, and I
thought
I would try once more. We only got half way
through
that time, and then again drifted back. I felt
very
much like trying again, but all the time I was
remembering
that the tide turned the other way at about
four
o'clock. It was then one o'clock in the afternoon, so
I
thought I would just have time to get through the Boca
Grande,
which the pilot book said was a simple passage
when
the tide was with you. We arrived at its mouth
about
two o'clock, and with a light breeze and a slight
current
with us got two-thirds of the way through. But
this
time it was a dead beat. Then again the wind fell to
nothing.
We drifted on a little, but by about four o'clock
we
were back again at the entrance and were starting to
drift
rapidly towards the Punta de Penas. By this time I
had
quite given up hope and expected to go drifting down
the
Venezuelan coast, with little hope of beating back
against
wind and current. But when I was quite despair-
ing,
it suddenly started to blow really hard from the
south-west.
The current was running strongly against us,
but
the water was smooth and the wind was blowing so
hard
that we managed to beat through; just before dark
we
cleared the Diamond Buoy and before we lit our side-
lights,
were well within the Gulf of Paria.
The
wind was then blowing from the east and we had a
dead
beat to Port of Spain. I was not anxious to get into
port
before dawn, so I took the topsail off her and made a
long
leg on the port tack with the intention of getting
well
to windward and of floating in gently in the morn-
ing.
I kept Jenkins and Jack steering four hours on and
four
hours off, while I checked my position by bearings
on
the lights every half hour. We were all feeling dead
tired
by this time. The wind dropped during the night,
and
for once I was glad. Two hours before dawn, there
was
a light breeze and I was about twelve miles from
62
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
Port
of Spain, well to the windward, so I went about.
The
wind veered more and more to the south and I ran
gently
into Port of Spain as the sun rose. We dropped
anchor
opposite the HarbourMaster's office about seven
oclock,
thirty-five days out of Tenerife.
We
were too tired to feel really excited. Jenkins
collapsed
on to the saloon sofa, too overcome with emotion
to
speak for a while. He said, eventually, when I sug-
gested
we should drink and rejoice, `Sir? I never, never,
expected
to see land again.'
IV
TRINIDAD
The
Customs came on board, and five negro searchers
turned
the whole boat upside down. I have never
known
such a thorough examination. I had some morphia
with
me which I thought I had better declare, although,
as
a doctor, I am entitled to carry it with me. They
insisted
on either sealing it up on the boat or taking it
away
with them and locking it up on shore. As I had no
convenient
place I let them take it away.
Queerly
enough, I did not feel excited or relieved, but
rather
apprehensive at having to face land life once
again-perhaps
I was conscious of thirty-five days'
growth
of hair and beard. Eventually I pulled myself
together
and drove in a taxi to the barber's. The one
thing
I did enjoy was some fresh fruit; I ate six grape-
fruit
before lunch.
The
arrangement I had made with Rab before I left
Tenerife
was that I should send Jack home and keep
Jenkins
with me if he were willing. I was to haul the
boat
up in Trinidad and await Rab's arrival somewhere
about
the beginning of January. The first thing I dis-
covered
was that it was impossible to careen a boat,
drawing
nine feet six inches, at Trinidad, as there was
only
about a four foot rise of tide. And, it was impossible
even
to get her on to the only existing slipway. There
used
to be a floating dock at Port of Spain, but they
omitted
to keep it in proper order and it had been con-
demned
some months before I arrived. Hauling her up
and
leaving her on shore was obviously impossible. If
she
had been left in the water, she would inevitably
have
been honey-combed with worm in three month's
64 A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
time.
The dock officials thought they might be able to
lift
her with their crane. They measured her and started
to
make elaborate calculations. In the meantime, Rab
wired
me to get her coppered. After much thought, the
government
decided that she was too heavy for their
crane.
I
did not want to set sail again. Jenkins was not cheer-
ful
at the prospect and Jack was mutinous. All they
wanted
was to go home as quickly as possible. However,
there
was nothing for it. I could not just let the boat rot
at
anchor. There were five places I could make for, where
I
could be sure of having her docked: Barbados, Mar-
tinique,
Demerara, Curacao and Panama. Barbados was
the
nearest, but it was dead to windward and the current
was
against us. It was impossible to make Demerara
against
the current. I would rather have liked to go
straight
to Panama, where we had to go eventually;
but
although it was dead to leeward, it was 1,200 miles
away,
and Rab had warned me it would probably be very
expensive.
I was tempted to go to Martinique, for I like
French
places and I knew that living would be very
cheap;
on the other hand, as I was going to have the boat
coppered,
I thought I would get the best work at a
British
port. My faith in my countrymen was to be
severely
shaken.
When
I announced to the crew that they were not
going
home from Trinidad, but that we had to go on to
Barbados,
there was a great scene. Jenkins was frightfully
upset,
and Jack refused to go. I said there was nothing for
it,
and I told Jack he could either get off or come along
with
me. The following morning Jenkins turned up
trumps
as usual. He came to me and told me that he was
very
anxious to get back home, but he quite saw that I
couldn't
let the boat rot in the water. More, that it would
be
very wrong of me if I did. He said that, of course, we
TRINIDAD
65
had
to take her to Barbados, and that he would do his
very
best to get her there. But he was still obviously very
sad
about it.
That
night, Mr. Hicks, the manager of Barclays Bank,
a
very keen sailing man, who had put me up for all the
local
clubs, took me to dinner at his home, having first
driven
me around the island. There was a wonderful
display
as we sat in his garden before dinner. The shrubs
were
surrounded with humming-birds, which I had
never
seen before, and after sunset, when the humming-
birds
disappeared, they were replaced by fireflies. After
dinner,
I suggested that he should come and look at the
boat.
When we got on board, I woke Jenkins and broached
the
last bottle of a case of whiskey which Walter had
bought
and paid for. After Hicks had talked to Jenkins
for
a bit, he was quite cheerful about things again.
*
*
*
TRINIDAD,
Monday,
24th November, 1930.
MY
DEAR Rab,
We got here this morning. I kept on putting off
writing
to you from Tenerife in order to give you a
proper
account of things and then never did. So this time
I
will write you just baldly and fill things in later. I have
kept
a complete log.
We
left Santa Cruz with a good breeze, but noticed the
squaresail
yard was not up to the job. We nursed it with
the
utmost care, reducing sail whenever we did more
that
five knots. The weather did not do at all what the
Passages
of the World said it should. The wind blew from
the
E., but usually just to the S. of E.; at times S. and
even
W. We alternated between (1) Strong breezes,
verging
into moderate gales, alternating with dead calms,
(2)
Dead calms, alternating with series of rain squalls
66
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
when
it blew for a few minutes, god knows what
strength.
The latter was the predominant weather. Just
fourteen
days ago we were congratulating ourselves on
having
done 1,800 miles with 1,000 to go. We were
running
before a light breeze and I had just started to
have
my evening bath, when, crash, the yard went, just
in
the centre. It was only a fir stick, by the way, and
compared
with our mast and gaff and boom a mere
stick.
Well, I cursed you from the bottom of my soul.
You
first cut down her spars so that nothing short of a
gale
will drive her through the water, and so that she
won't
sail at all in light airs, and then you provide a bit
of
straw for a yard. You know the strength of a chain is
its
weakest link.
Well,
I got the trysail up for the night, and the following
days
we got a succession of very heavy squalls interspersed
with
prolonged calms, but always a heavy swell.
After
four to five days of this, we seemed to be getting
nowhere
in particular, so I got the mainsail up in spite of
alarm
and despondency amongst the crew. Then the fun
really
started. I guyed the boom out-her beam prevents
you
from doing this efficiently-but she would not sail
at
all, except with the wind two points on her quarter
and
the wind always seemed to be dead aft of our course.
Even
then the boom used to roll over about every two
minutes
and the whole ship groaned. Jenkins then began
to
think that she must be rather sound after all! More-
over,
we used to have to gybe her about four times a day,
which
was a lengthy business with the guy to be shifted,
the
topping lifts to be taken up, etc. But somehow or
other
we got along, and I continued to enjoy myself.
The navigation presented certain
difficulties. After
I
left Tenerife, I found my stop watch had departed the
One
and only thing which went in Tenerife; after leaving
Vigo
I found myself short of Jeans pen and about
TRINIDAD
67
400
Player's and four bottles of whiskey, but perhaps you
pinched
those. So I had to try and train Jenkins to take
the
time. He never learnt. He was a master on the
seconds,
but was never sure about the minutes. I used to
take
about a dozen sights and then go down and look at
Jenkins'
times. In his list there were always some
obviously
wrong ones-I' 50" followed by 1' 20"-
here
the clue was easy; but sometimes there was no
way
of telling. I used to plot the whole lot out and try to
find
the psychological key, but time and time again there
was
no way of telling. Joining my dots I could get two
perfect
lines 15 miles apart.
On
the Friday before we arrived, about fifteen minutes
before
noon, I saw a rain squall coming up so I stationed
Jenkins
at the clock and took a timed altitude. This was
58
degrees 52' about ten minutes from noon, S.A.T.* (D.R.);t
two
minutes later the squall came over and though I
did
not lose the sun the altitude jumped to 60 degrees 4'.
Refraction,
I suppose, but the books don't talk about it.
Well,
the first observation made me eleven miles south
of
D.R. and corrected by ex-meridian table, I was about
twenty-two
miles S. of D.R. Also as a current was taking
me
N.W. at a rate of twenty to seventy miles a day, the
S.A.T.
was probably later. I was rather worried but con-
cluded
the crew had been luffing without confessing to
save
trouble.
I
tried to get an observation for a position line at
2.43,
but could not get an accurate one and then the sun
went
for good.
Next
day I started to get observations at 8.00 a.m. I
took
eleven and put them on one side. Meanwhile I gybed
the
boat. After the meridian altitude the previous day,
I
had been steering N. by W. (mag.), about 5 degrees N.
of
W.(true). But I discovered the crew had been steering
W.N.W.
and God knows what to the N.
*
S.A.T."Standard Atlantic Time. t D.R.-Dead Reckoning.
68
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
On
plotting out the observations, I found them hope-
less.
Took another series and, dashing down below, I
found
Jenkins two minutes out. Then the sun went.
Then
I tried again and took five and dashed down to see
time
of each. I estimated minutes as correct.
I
did not work position line -out at once, but waited for
meridian
altitude. I got a perfect one and was very re-
lieved.
This made my latitude 11 degrees 4'; 10' N. of Galera
Point,
the place I wanted to hit, and by D.R. sixty miles
away.
We were running before a strong breeze. Jack
then
served lunch and I let position line wait.
After
lunch I sighted land on our starboard beam,
about
thirty miles away. Concluded it was Tobago. Took
bearing
and worked out position line which agreed
within
five miles. Told crew they would see Galera
Point
Light on port beam at dusk and they did.
I
made Jack and Jenkins steer all night, alternately,
while
I took cross bearings every half hour or so, since the
current
is anywhere between twenty and seventy miles
a
day. Pilot book said wind rose every day at 9.0 a.m.,
full
force at noon. Tide started to run into Dragon's
Mouth
at 7.0 a.m. Timed to be thereabouts at ten
o'clock.
At ten, attempted Huevos Channel with strong
and
commanding breeze. Got half way through when
breeze
dropped to nothing. Drifted slowly back again;
made
another abortive attempt. Then decided to try the
Boca
Grande. Got there with an hour of tide to go. Got
half
way up, the wind dropped again and we drifted
back
again. Got worried as we were due to drift down the
north
coast of Venezuela at twenty to seventy miles a day.
But
about 4.00, we got a strong wind right in our teeth
and
beat through. Wind then shifted a little and we had a
dead
beat to Port of Spain. I was taking no chances, so
made
crew steer while I navigated. Jolly party. This
was
my second night without sleep and I had had little
TRINIDAD
69
two
nights before. My temper was not sweet and they
had
been having four and four, and they complained, and
I
was bloody.
Anyway,
we dropped our hook in Port of Spain safely
at
9 a.m.
Jenkins
then proceeded to have mild hysterics from
sheer
relief, but there was no joy in him. He almost went
down
on his knees to me to send him home as quickly as
possible.
Swore he would never go to sea again. I cursed
them
both-offered to send them ashore for a meal, which
they
refused-and went off and had a good lunch. I had
five
weeks' growth shaved off first.
I
don't want you to think that Jenkins was not a
damned
good man. He was, and he is really an old dear
and
I owe him a lot. But his nerves suffered as we went
along.
The truth is he had never been to sea in a small
boat
before and he is old for the game. Nevertheless I
take
off my hat to him. He wants to come and see you
when
he gets home. If he does, tell him I think the world
of
him.
Well,
Rab; you must come out as quickly as possible
and
get me away from these islands. With L1,000 a year,
a
car, and dress suit, they would be lovely. But they are
sahib
places with an ex-slave population. No place to go
native
by yourself.
All
my love,
TEMPLE.
P.S.
Send this letter on to Mother, will you?
TRINIDAD,
28th
November, 1930.
MY
DEAR MOTHER,
You were the only person from whom I did not
find
a letter waiting when I arrived, but if anything had
70
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
been
wrong I suppose I would have heard from Rab or
B.
Well,
my dear, we got here all right and with singular-
ly
little trouble too, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I
lived
without clothes for five weeks in the sun, and I have
put
on half a stone and have forgotten how to cough. In
the
end I was not lonely and did not regret having no
companion.
When Rab left me in Vigo, I protested my
loneliness.
Rab told me it was not true, and that I was
`tickled
to tears' at the idea of crossing the Atlantic with
two
paid hands. I did not believe him at the time, but
found
he was quite right later.
Having
the sole responsibility, and having two anxious
and
depressed seamen was great fun. However, for the
next
stage I would like some congenial companion. Also, I
am
rather lonely here. This is a big city, and very expensive
-`white
man's burden'-where you need clothes and even-
ing
dress, etc. Altogether, thoroughly English. Whereas
Tenerife
was foreign, very cheap and happy-go-lucky. In
fact,
I have never had a better time than I had there.
But
this place is very lovely all the same. I have made
friends
with my bank manager, who has a nice house
outside
the town, to which he takes me. There is a lovely
garden,
which is a blaze of tropic flowers, with scarlet and
crimson
predominating. Round these flowers fly hum-
ming-birds,
which I have never seen before. As night
falls,
the fire-flies come out. In a way, I would not mind
settling
down in one of these islands.
I
may have to go to Barbados to-morrow. It is a
damned
nuisance, but the floating dock here is out of
order.
It is only 200 miles to go, but dead to windward.
The
ship's bottom is foul and I have to drive an unwilling
crew-heaven
knows what Freda would think of me.
It
will probably take a week. There is just a faint chance
I
may not have to go.
TRINIDAD
71
Well,
my dear, I expect you are very lonely now. But I
will
be back some day. I wonder very much how you are
getting
on. Also how Freda is. But these travels are doing
me
an immense amount of good, both mentally and
physically.
I feel quite different. Does Walter ever come
to
see you or does his bad conscience prevent him? He
will
become a complete little bourgeois without my
influence.
G, I don't feel so bitter about, and anyway
there
will always be some divine discontent in him.
Queer
how intolerant I am. I have never realized so
vividly
before as when I was struggling to get off, and
Walter
was struggling to run away, and Freda was helping
me
to get off, how alike Freda and I are. We both try to
constrain
others to our dreams, and we can still dream.
And
the others just want to be comfortable and smug, and
go
on leading their routine little lives. Then we get
furious.
But, how thoroughly infirm of purpose people
like
Walter are.
I
have written Rab an account of the voyage itself. Get
him
to let you read it and show it to B, if she likes.
Please
send me on some of Freda's letters. Have I been
divorced
yet? I have had no news.
All
my love, my dear,
TEMPLE.
V
TRINIDAD
TO BARBADOS
I
shipped a new hand at Port of Spain, a coloured boy
called
Rufus. He had gradually insinuated himself into
the
crew, and was in a very bad way when I first met
him.
I
hoped to get off about midday. But when I went
ashore
to recover my morphine, the Customs informed
me
that the man who had the key of the cupboard was
away
but would be back soon. I waited till three o'clock
as
Rufus, who had promised to bring my washing by
midday,
was still absent. When he eventually arrived, I
abandoned
my morphia, which I conclude is still in
Trinidad.
We got under way at three-thirty, and ran
with
the wind on our port quarter, setting a course west
by
south, which should have taken us three points clear
of
the Diamond Rock. We went down in fine style until
we
were about three miles from the Boca Grande, when
the
wind became light and fluky. Then I began to get
very
anxious in the dusk as to the whereabouts of the
Diamond
Rock. We were going north-west at a great pace
with
the tide and I had barely got steerage way. Then
we
suddenly heard it tolling mournfully, apparently just
on
our Starboard bow, and two minutes later swept by it
with
only about fifty yards to Spare.
We
had the usual fluky wind in the Boca, but once we
were
clear, it blew steadily from east by north, and we
were
able to sail north-north-east - our course being
north-east,
as the current sets to the north-west at any-
thing
from twenty to seventy miles a day. We made very
good
progress during the night and I awoke at 9.00 a.m.
to
see Grenada on the port bow. I noted in my log that
72
TRINIDAD
TO BARBADOS 73
day:
`Lovely night and lovely day. It is good to be at sea
again.
Have cast off my clothes with great relief.'
At
midday the wind dropped, and we spent three days
drifting
about the Grenadines, but it was a very pleasant
time.
Jenkins was in the best of humours, and seemed to
be
thoroughly enjoying himself. My new acquisition,
Rufus,
developed a pain in his belly, which I later
diagnosed
as mild appendicitis. Jack was very fed up at
his
doing no work and I had to remind him gently that
I
am a doctor. 0n the night of December 4th to 5th, we
got
a breeze at last, and I awoke up in the morning to see
St.
Vincent on our port bow. There was a fresh breeze
from
the south-east, and we were able to sail east by
north.
At sundown that day I got a triple fix of my
position
by cross bearings from St. Vincent and St. Lucia,
and
at 10.00 p.m. should have been about thirty miles
from
the north-east point of Barbados. We looked for the
North
Point Light all night, but never saw it. At dawn,
Jenkins
and I just managed to make out the island south-
south-west,
and about thirty miles away. We continued
on
the same tack until we were sure we could make it,
and
then went about. The northerly current had taken
us
about three points to the north during the night. We
went
down the leeward side of Barbados, close-hauled, in
fine
style, but the wind headed us, and we had a dead
beat
into Carlisle Bay and dropped anchor just before
dusk.
*
* *
BRIDGETOWN
CLUB,
Barbados,
W.I.
Thursday,
18th December, 1930.
MY
DEAR Rab,
We got here safely in five days-two sailing
and
three
drifting the wrong way. But it was a delightful sail
-
moonlight every night.
74
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
I
took the negro seaman with me from Trinidad, but he
developed
a mild attack of appendix. . . . Jenkins turned
up
trumps and showed no despondency as there were
always
about 500 rocks in sight on which we could pile
ourselves
up. If you can do anything extra for the old boy
I
wish you would-he is an old dear really and the most
conscientious
person I have ever met. . . .
I
found a Dutch boat leaving here last Wednesday
week
and shipped them home on it after quite a senti-
mental
farewell with Jenkins.
I
found they could dock the Inyala here all right, but
that
it was impossible to keep her on shore. They could
not
dock her until last Monday and would not give me a
price
for coppering until she was on the dock. . . . I told
them
you were a hard man and that I was only your agent.
Asked
them to give me a tender in writing and I would
cable
you. If you did not agree to the price they were just
to
anti-foul her and put her back in the water. I was on
tenterhooks
about the whole business, as if we had done
this
it would have meant anti-fouling her again in two
months.
Well, they tendered 388 dollars for the whole
job
and I wired you for 450, hoping to make 72 dollars
out
of the business, but as you sent L90 I only made 40
dollars
I think. I can just manage with this until the end
of
next month.
You
see I cannot haul her up and leave her, but must
continue
to live on board her and keep the negro on. Also
there
is no chance of a job here or at Trinidad, nor of
getting
a job as ship's doctor. I could go round the islands
and
live cheaply on a schooner, but do not like to leave
the
boat. Anyway, she will not be off the dock until
Christmas.
The coppering is well worth the price, I think.
You
said L30 for Munty metal, which disinterested
people
say is no good out here. It is only a pity the copper-
ing
was not done before. I would not have had to haul up
TRINIDAD
TO BARBADOS 75
in
Tenerife, and could have remained at anchor in
Trinidad
and saved money on the crew as well.
There
will not be much to spend on her when you
arrive.
She wants a new jib and a new topping-lift on the
starboard
side and a squaresail yard. Also I would strongly
advise
a new topmast 6 foot longer. All the running gear
is
new and I think in perfect condition.
I
think I will put the propeller back; what we really
want
is a folding propeller and blow the revenue. Could
you
get one in England to fit? You cannot get one out here.
Also
will you bring a new pump and tap, and three burners
for
the stove. Also if you can manage it about 200 lbs. of
biscuits,
in sealed tins. You cannot buy them here-I just
got
some by chance in Tenerife-and they are both a staple
and
reserve food. For the last three weeks we lived on
them
plus butter (New Zealand), which kept perfectly,
plus
treacle and jam and cheese - I put on half a stone.
Rab, come out as quickly as possible; I
am rather lonely.
This is a lovely place with wonderful
bathing, and
everybody
is very good to me. But, it is very expensive
and
I need evening dress!!! To return hospitality of the
kind
I am offered would break me in a week. The only
cheap
thing here is rum, 2/3 a bottle. The amount people
drink
here is amazing-not the scallywags, but the re-
sponsible
people and their wives. Women drink six or
eight
cocktails before dinner, but their morals are quite
mid-Victorian;
difficult for them to be otherwise really as
all
one's movements are known to the town. Of course,
what
is really the matter with me is that I want a decent
woman
to love and be loved by!
Well,
I think this is all. My very best love to Jean and
a
Happy New Year to you both. Why not bring Jean out
here
for a month? By the way, is she still my sister-in-
law?
Love,
TEMPLE.
76
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
BRIDGETOWN
CLUB,
BARBADOS,
29th
January, 1931.
MY
DEAREST MOTHER,
I am afraid you have not heard from me for
some
time.
I have had two very good letters from you. But
these
tropics - ! I have nothing to do, and one day
melts
into another. I sleep and swim and lie in the sun
and
eat. It is very pleasant, but I will be very glad to set
out
on my travels again before I decompose altogether!
It
is a glorious place in many ways, and very beautiful,
but
the people with a few exceptions are very dull. They
are
very kind and hospitable, but have not an idea in
their
heads. It is rather like a suburb in
mid-Victorian
England.
There
are exceptions. There is a half-American girl,
who
is intelligent, who has been awfully good to me....
My
other friends here are a retired Scotch-Canadian min-
ing
engineer, a genial old ruffian who has been every-
where
and done everything, and who would undoubt-
edly
have been a pirate two hundred years ago; also an
Englishman
called Barker, a Science man on the staff of
the
Agricultural Department, who has an Honours degree
in
Physics.
There
is also a very interesting biologist, who lives in a
hut
on the far side of the island. He is one of the most
remarkable
men I have ever come across, but I can only
get
at him when Barker drives me there.
I
had an amusing letter from G to-day and some
days
ago a postcard from Freda and Jane from Russia; it
came
at the same time as Freda's cable of congratulation,
sent
off weeks before to Trinidad.
My
dear, your two last letters were very wonderful,
you
said some lovely things to me. Thank you.
TRINIDAD
TO BARBADOS 77
Don't
think, dear, because I write infrequently that I
am
not thinking about you, and that I don't care for you.
You
know, I love you, my mother, but, of course, like all
women
you want to be reassured at very short intervals.
But you know what agony it causes me to
write a letter.
Sheer
torture.
All my
love, my dear,
TEMPLE.
* * *
Barbados
looked a lovely little place to loaf the time
away
until Rab came. The swimming there was the best I
have
ever known; although, from all accounts, there are
plenty
of sharks in the bay, no one has ever been attacked.
My
first job was to get Jenkins and Jack home and, to
their
great joy, I managed to effect this within four days
of
arriving. I took them on board the Dutch boat and had
an
affecting farewell with Jenkins. I had grown awfully
fond
of him and was very sorry to lose him. He said if he
had
only been fifteen years younger, he would have gone
on,
but that he was really too old now. The next thing I
did
was to get the boat dry-docked and to have her
coppered.
The Inyala is metal fastened and has an iron
keel.
I knew that there would be galvanic action between
the
iron and the copper, and that unless some method was
used
to prevent this action the keel was liable to drop off
eventually.
The firm who did the coppering said that a
strip
of lead between the iron and the copper would pre-
vent
all action on the iron. This was quite wrong and led
to
further expense at Panama. What they ought to have
done
was to put heavy zinc sheets, about three-quarters of
an
inch thick, between the copper and the iron.
The
people of Barbados are very interesting, and would
repay
an anthropological survey.
It
would seem that in each West Indian island the
78
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
relationship
between the white, the coloured and the
black
population is different. In Grenada, for instance,
where
there are not many whites, I understand that no
distinction
is made between the whites and the coloured.
Barbados
is almost the only West Indian island which was
originally
settled by the English, and up to about ten
years
ago the whites, although they often show unmis-
takable
signs of a little mixture in the past, kept them-
selves
rigidly to themselves. But at the moment the
social
structure would seem to be disintegrating. In
several
places where colonies of poor whites have main-
tained
themselves for hundreds of years, they have re-
cently
been overrun by, and submerged in, the coloured
population.
Also, although White society still rigidly
maintains
its distinction from the coloured, a coloured
man
or coloured woman possessed of sufficient material
goods
can buy their way into it.
Like
all the other West Indian islands, Barbados was
suffering
from a severe financial depression while I was
there.
It is one of the most densely populated spots in the
world,
averaging about one thousand inhabitants per
square
mile. The island depends entirely on sugar; prac-
tically
nothing else is grown: even most of the fruit is
imported.
Rab
arrived on February 19th, instead of at the begin-
ning
of January, and for the first few days, in spite of
severe
sunburn, he displayed an immense northern
energy.
But in about a week he had succumbed to the
tropical
languor, and we found it very difficult to get any-
thing
done.
The
two main things to be seen to on the Inyala were
the
engine and the new squaresail yard. We decided to
keep
up the squaresail yard permanently. We had been
given
a diagram by Chief Officer Bindley of the Dacarian,
showing
how the yards on the old square-riggers were
TRINIDAD
TO BARBADOS 79
attached.
We also had the new yard made twice the dia-
meter
of the old one at the centre. I had tried to start the
engine
before Rab came, but had no success. On his
arrival
I thought he would just take his coat off, and that
after
I had seen him fiddle about for a few minutes I
would
hear the familiar `chug-chug. But after he had
worked
for two hours, and looked more like a bit of melt-
ing
grease than a man, he decided to get some more
assistance.
The engine is thoroughly inaccessible, and I
should
imagine the carburettor had not been taken down
since
the year of its birth in 1906. The motor engineer
decided
that the whole engine must be dismantled, and
this
was done. All valves were found to be stuck up, and
there
was practically no magnetism left in the magnets
on
the magneto. But the pistons, cylinders and bearings
seemed
to be in perfect condition.
Everybody
took about three times longer to finish any
job
than they had estimated, and week after week we
were
`going in a week's time'. But eventually everything
was
ready, and on Sunday, March 8th, we decided to
make
a trial trip.
We
took on a fourth hand, `Mobile' Cheeseman, a
blue-eyed,
straight-haired, fair-skinned Barbadian quad-
roon,
who had swum on board the yacht one afternoon
begging
me for a job. We took some English friends we
had
made in Barbados on the trial trip. Everything passed
off
very well, and the new squaresail gear worked admir-
ably.
Mobile also showed us that he was a good seaman.
Rab
and I, though, both felt rather unwell at one period.
VI
BARBADOS
TO PANAMA
We
weighed anchor at 3.45 p.m. on Saturday, March
14th.
We broke out the jib and then set the raffee,
squaresail
and trysail, in succession, There was a mode-
rate
breeze from the east-north-east. We set our course
west-north-west
a half west, making for the channel be-
tween
St. Vincent and St. Lucia. We sighted St. Vincent
at
dawn the following morning, and at 2.30 were about
midway
between the two islands. During the afternoon
the
sky became overcast. We had a succession of rain
squalls
without much weight in the wind. During the
night
the wind freshened and about six in the morning
Rab
woke me to say that it was blowing hard, and what
did
I think about the raffee. It looked rather ominous to
windward
so we took it down, but reset it again at 10 a.m.
We
had a glorious day sailing, the wind was blowing
steadily
about force 6 and the sea was gradually getting
up.
It was very good to be at sea again, and I knew for a
certainty
that I just wanted to go sailing on and on.
Twenty-four
hours after we had sailed Rufus complained
to
me of toothache, and seemed to think that I would just
tuck
him up in bed and let him off work for the rest of the
voyage.
I have great sympathy for toothache, for although
I
have only had it once in my life, I have never forgotten
the
experience. I think there are few worse pains. How-
ever,
I had carried him as a passenger from Trinidad to
Barbados
and I wasn't going to do it again. So I hardened
my
heart and made him work, being very sceptical about
the
existence of the toothache at all. When I put him on
to
steer, he continually gybed the boat, so I made him sit
with
Mobile, and also made him cook. I noted in my log:
80
BARBADOS TO PANAMA 81
`Mobile
seems a good seaman, a cheerful, willing, happy-
go-lucky
creature. He steers quite well, but is very hazy
about
the points of the compass.'
The
first trouble we had on this voyage was with the
binnacle
lamp, which would not keep alight. In the end
we
ceased bothering about it, and lashed a hurricane lamp
to
the window instead.
The
wind continued to increase in force all Saturday,
and
the seas were getting up. That night I hoped to get a
sleep
between nine-thirty and midnight, but Mobile kept
on
calling me to tell me that there was a squall coming.
I
do not think it was ever blowing much more than force
6.
About 11 p.m., in hopes of getting a little sleep, I de-
cided
to take down the raffee, but Mobile let the jib halyard
go
instead of the lee sheet, and there was a thorough mess.
Rab
got out into the bows and hanging on by his teeth to the
forestay
managed to haul the sail down. By this time it was
midnight,
and my watch. During the night watch it con-
tinued
to blow about force 6, but there was a rather
awkward
cross sea, and steering needed all my attention.
Even
to light a cigarette meant the danger of a gybe or
of
putting her aback. I did not dare to go below to look at
the
time, but had to call Rab from above. The dawn was
fine
and clear, the wind moderated and the seas became
smaller
and longer. I remember thinking that day how
the
sea, in reality, never looks like the pictures of it. In
pictures
you get a series of smooth waves at regular inter-
vals.
In fact, though, you get a mass of water broken into
irregular
mounds of all sizes.
I
continued to make Rufus work in spite of his agonized
and
reproachful expression. We logged 138 miles between
noon
and noon under squaresail and trysail, the raffee be-
ing
on deck for half the time. On Sunday evening the
wind
freshened again. It had a sustained force of 6, and,
in
gusts of 7 or more. The sea got very rough, the
82
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
waves
being about ten feet, with from time to time,
one
of twelve or fifteen feet interspersed. Mobile took the
nine
to twelve watch that night. I told him I wanted to
sleep
and not to call me unless the mizen rigging began
to
sing a high note. He called me about ten to say that it
was
doing this. I went on deck and found it was blowing
a
moderate gale, but the sailing was so good that I
decided
to hang on to the raffee. I went on watch myself
at
midnight and had one of the most glorious sails I have
ever
had. The boat did just on sixteen miles from twelve
to
two. The night was clear, the wind was true and the
mizen
rigging was singing its top note. Astern the great
seas
rolled up and just at the back of one's mind was that
right
amount of fear which is the necessary ingredient of
all
great moments. Occasionally one of the big rollers
looked
almost like breaking and a certain amount of water
slopped
on to the decks; but I held on to the raffee, sing-
ing
songs of exultation to myself. At 3 a.m. when I called
Rab
the wind had moderated.
The
wind continued strong all the following day, and
Rab
started agitating early to have the raffee off her that
night.
We logged 147 miles from noon to noon. The seas
got
still bigger and the sun set without any red. Much
against
the grain, I took the raffee down. As it turned out
it
was quite unnecessary. It continued to blow hard until
about
midnight of the 17th, and then the wind began to
drop;
by morning we were almost becalmed. So once
again
I experienced the old familiar sailing, the main
mast
creaking, the trysail flapping and the whole boat
groaning.
Rab had been much less sick at the beginning
of
this voyage than he had ever been before, and by that
day
had entirely recovered. He started to do all the navi-
gating
calculations three days after we left Barbados. We
used
both to take the meridian altitude, and my observa-
tion
was nearly always 1-1/2 to 2 minutes greater than his.
BARBADOS
TO PANAMA 83
I
found that day that I had been misjudging Rufus. He
had
developed a terrific aveolar abscess which I was dying
to
stick a knife into, but he wouldn't let me touch it.
Against
all my medical principles I gave him one quarter
of
morphia instead. I had some qualms of conscience
about
him, for I had a hollow tooth myself; I feared
nemesis
and determined to have it out at the earliest
opportunity.
From
then onwards there was very little to record. The
wind
continued light, but we only had about one actual
day's
calm. On the 19th the wind shifted to the north and
the
weather was much cooler. We concluded we were
getting
the tail end of a `norther' from the Gulf of
Mexico.
We spent the time swimming and eating and
lying
in the sun. Our cigarettes were running out, so we
took
to chewing. We also became very intellectual in our
reading.
We read Shaw's Intelligent Woman's Guide to
Socialism,
Thc Structure of the Atom, and Russell's A.B.C.
of
Relativity, and I even tried to make a start on The
Calculus
Made Easy (I didn't get very far). On Friday the
20th
we reckoned to be about 206 miles from Colon, and
Rab
noted in his diary: `Have now great confidence in
navigation
and will be very surprised if five miles out.'
The
following day I find in his diary: `Now 85 miles from
Colon
according to observation, and no sign of land or
steamers.
Not quite so much confidence in navigation. If
it
is wrong, I am sure it is due to chronometer.'
We
had thought that we would get into Colon for din-
ner
on Sunday. But the current had set us twenty or
thirty
miles to the north-north-east. On Saturday after-
noon
the sky clouded over and at about three-thirty,
while
I was on watch, the rain came down in torrents. I
got
soaked through and felt very cold, but there was no
wind.
At four-thirty Rab relieved me, and I went down
to
change my things. Just as I was getting my oilskin over
84
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
my
head Rab called to me to come on deck. I finished
struggling
with my oilskin, and when I arrived on deck
I
found we had been hit by a very heavy squall from the
north.
Rab had already got the mainsail half down, but
we
could not get it any further without luffing, which we
did,
thus putting the squaresails aback. There was a great
flapping
of canvas, but no damage was done and we
quickly
got the mainsail on deck. Then we ran her off
and
took the raffee and squaresail off her, and ran before
it
under the jib. For about twenty minutes it blew about
force
8, but very quickly moderated, and by 6.00 p.m. we
set
the squaresail and raffee. Of course, we should have
run
her dead before the squall immediately, and first
taken
the square canvas off her, then luffed up and taken
the
mainsail off her. At eleven o'clock that night we
picked
up Cape Manzanillo Light.
I
got a certain amount of sleep that night, but Rab had
practically
none. I left almost all the navigation to him.
Although
I have said that we picked up the Manzanillo
Light,
we were really rather doubtful about it, because
Lights
and Tides of the World said that there was a light
flashing
alternately white and red, but the chart said just
a
flashing white light. We hoped that the chart was right,
and
that Lights and Tides was out of date. But neverthe-
less
we did not have that pleasant feeling of certainty. At
dawn
we picked up land and played a coy game with a
steamer
as to which of us should show the other the
entrance
to Colon. The steamer gave up first and steamed
off
in what we discovered a few minutes later, when we
recognized
the land marks, was the wrong direction.
We
entered Colon harbour at ten o'clock. A large part
of
the American fleet was anchored there, and we saluted
an
American cruiser in passing. They returned the salute,
which
was much more than we have ever been able to get
out
of one of our own warships. The sailing instructions
BARBADOS
TO PANAMA 85
tell
you to anchor anywhere inside the western break-
water.
Just as we were furling the squaresail preparatory
to
anchoring, a launch came off from Cristobal with the
port
doctor, customs officer and admeasurer on board.
They
called out to us not to anchor, but said they would
tow
us into Cristobal harbour. All formalities were over
in
a few minutes, and everything was done to make
things
as pleasant as possible for us.
We
were received with great hospitality in Cristobal
and
met a lot of charming people, and were helped in
every
way possible. We had intended to proceed through
the
Canal within a couple of days, but it was a week before
we
could tear ourselves away.
We
met Mr. E. V. Brown, the manager of the Commis-
sary,
who twice had given up his job to go sailing, and
also
his friend Mr. Craggs, an Englishman of the National
City
Bank, who had sailed all around the South Sea
Islands
in a yacht. They gave us a lot of information and
advice.
The
whole Canal Zone strikes one as an amazing
achievement.
The Isthmus of Panama twenty years ago
must
have been one of the plague spots of the world.
Now
it is almost a health resort. Yellow fever and malaria
have
been stamped out. There appears to be no danger of
typhoid,
dysentery, or of any other of the parasitic tropi-
cal
diseases. There is an extraordinary absence of flies
and
other insect pests. Altogether one gets the impression
that
the Americans have solved the problem of how white
men
can live with comfort in the Tropics. I have been in
India,
and was also in Mesopotamia during the war; but
the
Canal Zone is in an entirely different category of
things.
We
started off about ten in the morning of Thursday,
April
2nd, to go through the Panama Canal. We sailed
under
squaresail and raffee to the Gatun Locks, and then
86
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
went
through the locks under the motor. When we
emerged
from the locks we sailed again across Gatun
Lake
and dropped anchor for the night off Barro Colorado
Island.
Barro Colorado Island is one of those wild animal
preserves
of which the Americans are so fond. It is just a
slice
of the old jungle cut off from the rest of the land by
the
damming of the Chagres. No one is allowed to land
there
without permission, or with any lethal weapon.
The
following day we landed and walked through the
primeval
jungle, along a footpath to the observation post.
We
saw no wild animals, but collected an enormous num-
ber
of furious jungle ticks. We did hear the sound of some
heavy
animals in the bush, and wondered for a moment
whether
the best way of seeing these animals wouldn't be
to
climb a tree, but we pulled ourselves together and
went
on bravely. On our return we were invited to dinner
by
Dr. Chapman, the naturalist in charge at that time,
and
his charming daughter. We learned that although
they
had several pictures of mountain lions taken by flash
light
and trap wires, no one had ever seen one.
You
live and learn. We swam at Barbados with sharks
in
the bay and were told it was quite safe; we bathed in
Gatun
Lake with alligators about and were told that it
was
quite safe, and we walked about Barro Colorado with
mountain
lions about, and yet again were told it was quite
safe.
So are one's illusions shattered.
The
following day we sailed under squaresail and raffee
to
Pedro Miguel Lock, and passed through the remaining
locks
and into Balboa under the motor.
Rab
was worried about the galvanic action of the cop-
per,
lead and zinc, and asked an official of the Mechanical
Division
at Balboa. They said it was all wrong and that
the
keel was probably rotting away, so we had the boat
hauled
up by a crane. They were quite right. There had
already
been quite a lot of action, and the keel would cer-
BARBADOS
TO PANAMA 87
tainly
have dropped off in time. We called the Barbados
firm
all sorts of names; stripped off the lead and put on
lengths
of zinc. This was one unforeseen expense. The
other
one was that Rufus, who had become more and
more
of a nuisance, demanded to be sent back to Barbados,
so
we had to repatriate him.
We
have found a German, Louis, who is anxious to get
out
of Panama, and who is willing to come with me as a
volunteer.
He has had no experience of sailing boats, but
during
a very varied life experience had been a seaman
on
a steamer.
Rab
has got to leave me for family reasons, so I am
sailing
next Tuesday, April 22nd, with Louis and Mobile
for
the Galapagos Islands, and then the Marquesas. I hope
to
continue to Tahiti, Samoa, the Fiji Islands, and possibly
New
Zealand. Everything is ready. We got the stores on
board
to-day, Saturday 18th. If this story is continued, it
will
probably be from Tahiti.
* *
*
PANAMA,
20th
April, 1931.
MY
DEAREST MOTHER,
I have been in the throes of an
emotional en-
tanglement,
and somehow or other it has been impossible
to
write to you until it was settled one way or the other.
Even
now it is very difficult. It concerns that half-
American
girl in Barbados I told you about. We got
fonder
and fonder of one another. I can see your expres-
sion
and hear you groan as you read this.
I
don't think I will describe her to you-you wouldn't
believe
me-but I will let Rab do that. . . . I have asked
her
to write to you. She may join me in Tahiti. Her name
88
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
is
Emily Phillips and this is her address. . . . I think it is
the
real thing this time.
Well,
my dear, I sail to-morrow for the Marquesas. I
will
be two or three months getting there and will prob-
ably
stay there a couple of months. There is an infrequent
post-about
every two months- I am afraid it will be
a
very, very long time before you hear from me again.
Rab
is leaving me here, and I am going on with a col-
oured
boy and a very sound German I have picked up.
Somehow
or other I am going to sell the boat when the
money
gives out.
I
have written an account of the voyage so far for the
American
paper Yachting. I have rather good hopes they
will
take it. Rab will show you the account, and I will ask
them
to send you a copy if they publish it.
I
am frightfully worried about B and do not know
what
to say to her. . . .
Well,
my dear, I am off on a very long voyage, but I am
Getting
my hearts desire, which is supposed to happen
rarely.
The Journey is longer than across the Atlantic, but
there
is much less chance of bad weather. In fact, to all
intents
and purposes, there is none; so do not worry about
me.
Write
me, on the offchance, to c/o The Governor,
Hiva
Oa, The Marquesas; but, for certain, to c/o The
British
Consul, Papeete, Tahiti.
When
I will be back, my dear, I don't know. I am
leaving
here with forty pounds and the boat, so if I do not
pick
up something it will not be very long.
I
love you, dear, very much, and I do not forget you as
it
seems.
So
the next letter you will have from me will be from
the
promised land.
All my love, dearest
Mother.
TEMPLE.
89
BARBADOS TO PANAMA
Letter
to Emily Phillips
COLON,
Wednesday,
24th March, 1931.
MY
DARLING,
As was foreseen Rab is going home. I am
taking
the
boat plus whatever may be left of L118 on to the
South
Seas. Somewhere or other when I have no more
money
left I am to sell her.
As
things are at present unless I pick up an amateur
here
I will be going with Rufus and Mobile.
I
am writing to the New York Yachting to ask them if
they
would like an account of the cruise, past and future.
Could
you interview them for me and make a contract?
I
believe I ought to get twenty dollars a thousand words.
I
would send them enough of the past for three months
or
four, according to the number of words they want, and
would
continue as I go along.
Now,
my heart, for you and me. I listened to your rela-
tions
in Barbados, I have read your Mother's very charm-
ing
letter and-well, my darling, yours are sweet beyond
words.
But,
my dearest, don't you see all these considerations
mean
nothing-when you have really decided you want
to
share my fate? My dear, I have told you how I have
lived
up to now. You know me. Do you really think there
is
any chance of stability, worldly success or safety with
me?
Your
mother and your aunt-your real friends for I am
not
talking about the `dead at your feeters -are quite
right.
You would be undertaking a frightful risk and with
all
the odds against you.
You
can live as you will-but make the choice.
With
me vagabondage, poverty, perhaps disgrace,
perhaps
success-but that is very unlikely. There is a sort
90
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
of
lethal factor in us Utleys that inhibits it. Both my
father
who was and my sister who is much cleverer than I
am,
always missed it. You see they, who could have got it
easily,
never quite believed in it. I, who would find its
attainment
much more difficult, believe in it rather less.
I
am going off to the South Seas because I must. There
is
no justification, or as I would prefer to put it, rationali-
sation.
I just must. I have forced Rab to let me go. Well,
dearest,
it will always be the same. There will be a dream
and
`I must', and then for you it will be `pay, pack and
follow'.
You
see, dear, I do not believe basically, as a part of my
character,
in the values of society. Many people are scep-
tical
about them intellectually, but they are not sceptical
about
them as a part of their own character as I am.
Also,
my dearest, there is something of what Aldous
Huxley
calls a `leprachaun' about me. Rab has had five
pathetic
letters from Jean and is going home. Well, my
dear,
any woman of mine-could be having triplets every
three
minutes and I would still go on to the South Seas.
Well,
my heart, that is that. The reasons your mother and
aunt
have put forth are quite temperately deduced from
their
own values. My values are different. There is no justi-
fication
for their values and no argument can show them to
have
any validity. I believe myself that my own values
are
based on more fundamental human needs, but never-
theless
that is but an opinion, and for certain of them
there
is nothing to be adduced but prejudice. But I hold
them
with a whole-hearted fanaticism. A certain number
of
people in every generation have always thought as I do.
The
first-rate ones have been the poets. The second-rate
ones
like myself have believed their songs.
I
have sat down to-night to try and tell you the true
relations
as I have thought them out during the night
watches,
and I will try and make no sentimental appeal.
BARBADOS
TO PANAMA 91
You
must make the choice yourself with your eyes
open.
Every word your mother says is right from her
point
of view. I offer you hardship, risk, discomfort,
poverty,
disgrace, sordidness and something which we
two
alone know between ourselves.
We
are going on to Panama on Saturday. This letter
will
reach you on Monday. Wire me to Post Office, Balboa,
what
you decide.
I
love you dear.
TEMPLE.*
*
Emily Phillips went to Panama and it was then decided that she
would
join Temple Utley in Tahiti about September of that year.
VII
PANAMA
TO THE GALAPAGOS
On
21st April, 1931, we were all ready to sail. Rab and
I
had wisely celebrated my departure two nights
before,
so I did not have my usual headache. However, I
did
have the usual sinking feeling in the pit of my
stomach.
We
had a fearful shock too that morning for we got a
bill
for 132 dollars from the Port Captain. Twenty-five
dollars
for pilotage out of Cristobal and the rest because
we
had been tied up to a buoy. We had asked to be taken
to
the yacht basin, but the Pilot had tied us up there,
saying
it was better. I have used buoys in many British
artificial
harbours; also in Cherbourg, in Brest, in Bergen,
in
Vigo and in Tenerife, and as a yacht was never charged
anything.
It meant that I was going off to the Marquesas
with
200 dollars in my pocket.
The
Pilot came on board at 11 a.m. Rab started the
motor
and we taxied out of Balboa along the buoyed
channel.
Rab worked hard until the last moment, while
I
steered and chatted to the Pilot. Rab's last bit of work
aboard
was to go up the mast and notice that the chain
sling
holding up the yard was loose. But very soon the
Pilot
said he was getting off, so Rab and I said farewell
and
both felt very bad about it. We had a drink of Barbados
rum
all round and then Rab and the Pilot pushed off.
There
was a light breeze from just east of north, and I
set
jib, squaresail and raffee.
I
remember feeling very much alone. My crew were
really
unknown quantities. I knew that Mobile was good
with
his hands, that he had plenty of pluck and that he
was
very deft and quick at handling gear, but I also knew
92
PANAMA
TO THE GALAPAGOS 93
that
he was as irresponsible as a child. Louis was a bar-
tender,
who said he had been quarter-master on steam-
boats,
but he confessed he knew nothing about sail and
was
not shaping well. Always at the back of my mind was
Gerbault's
description of the Gulf of Panama and the
Doldrums.
However, the wind gradually increased and as
we
reeled off the knots my spirits began to rise and
depression
gave way to exhilaration.
A
ship, provisions, a crew, 200 dollars and all the
Pacific
before us. If I had all the responsibility I had all
the
power; I was alone, but I was lord and master.
The
wind continued to blow strong and true, and we
made
sixty miles in the first twelve hours. I set a course
of
south (magnetic) from opposite Taboga Island which
put
me twenty-five miles to the east of Cape Mala, for I
had
been warned of the strong indraught. We never saw
the
Mala light, but there were persistent flashings,
usually
grouped in twos, on the port bow, which I
decided
were lightning, but Mobile called me five times
between
three and six to say that there was a lighthouse
on
the port bow. On one occasion he announced a fixed
white
light which turned out to be a rising planet.
We
made very good progress until six in the afternoon of
April
23rd, when the wind began to fail, but we had
logged
276 miles in fifty-two hours, and were nearly one-
third
of the way to the Galapagos.
Our
observed position at 5.0 p.m. S.A.T. was 5 degrees 9'
North,
81 degrees 45' West. This was far, far better than I had
ever
dared to hope. I seem to remember that Gerbault
took
nearly a month to get so far south.
That
was the end of the north wind, and all Thursday
night
and all the following day we lay becalmed. There
was
not the faintest puff wind, nor a cloud in the sky, and
the
heat was quite unbearable. I can remember nothing
like
it on the sea; there was a heavy suffocating quality
94
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
about
the atmosphere which squeezed all the vitality out
of
us. At sunset we got a light breeze from the south, so
we
said goodbye to our square rig and set our mainsail.
The
night was a series of calms and squalls. I did not
get
below till four in the morning, when things looked a
little
more settled. I left Louis at the helm. I was just
dozing
off when I heard the infernal clatter of a boat in
stays.
I lay still for a few minutes, hoping against hope,
but
the noise continued so I went on deck. Louis greeted
me
with `It won't steer, there's something wrong with
the
rudder'. I put her back on her course again and fell
asleep
immediately.
At
four-thirty, Mobil-who was not on watch, but
who
did not trust Louis-woke me to say it was blowing
hard.
I went on deck and said it wasn't, and went to
sleep
again. At five forty-five, Mobile woke me once
more
to say that there was a heavy squall coming. I
lighted
a cigarette and went on deck with a bored and
languid
air, and was instantly almost drowned in a
deluge
of rain. I got the mainsail down with Mobile just
before
the wind hit us. It blew furiously for five minutes,
then
dropped to a dead calm. I left the mainsail on deck
and
we tossed about in a most horrid swell until 11.30
a.m.,
when we got a light breeze from south by east, so
we
again hoisted the mainsail.
Then
just after noon, the whole horizon to windward be-
came
obscured by tier upon tier of thick black clouds. We
had
a hurried lunch while the mass grew larger and larger.
The
rain began to pour down about a couple of miles away
while
the whole mass blazed with lightning and the
thunder
sounded like a barrage. Meanwhile, another
mass
grew quickly to leeward, and for a few minutes we
sailed
down an ever narrowing lane of bright sunlight. I
had
decided to keep the mainsail up until it blew so hard
that
it was imperative to lower it; luckily, I lost my nerve.
PANAMA
TO THE GALAPAGOS 95
There
was something so portentous of evil in those two
approaching
masses. It seemed like being enveloped by
two
hostile armies. So I ordered the mainsail down on
deck
and Mobile and I got it down just in time.
We
had been sailing south-west, close-hauled. The squall
struck
us on the port bow coming just from the east of
south.
It was exceedingly violent and was accompanied
by
torrential rain. It blew from the same direction for
perhaps
five minutes, then without warning shifted a
full
thirteen points to the north-north-east and blew with
even
greater fury. The headsails and the mizen came
over
in a tremendous gybe, the mizen sheet parted, and I
thanked
my lucky stars that the mainsail was not up, for
the
boom would have gone for certain. I took the wheel
from
Louis and held her dead before it, while Mobile got
the
mizen down in a few seconds.
I
have been in an official No. 9 gale, but that was
nothing
to the force of the wind that day. The sustained
force
must have been about No. 11, and Heaven alone
knows
what was the force of the gusts. We ran south-
west
before it under the jib alone, doing over seven knots.
The
rain cut like hail and we were soaked through and
through.
We shivered with cold; nature, having failed
to
grill us the previous day, was now trying to freeze us.
The
wind quickly picked up a short vicious sea, but there
was
no weight in it, a lot of water slopped on board, but
no
heavy stuff. The force of the wind was sustained for
two
and a half hours, it then quickly dropped to about that
of
a moderate gale, and as it was still coming from the
north-east,
Mobile and I hoisted the squaresail and a little
later
the rafee, and we were then able to go due south.
Then
the wind began to back through north to north-west
and
by seven that evening it had fallen to nothing. Never-
theless,
we had logged just on forty miles in those six
hours,
and that was nearly forty less of the Doldrums.
96
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
Mobile
and I were feeling very tired, what with excite-
ment
and with hoisting and lowering sails, so, as I wanted
both
a quiet night and some sail up, we hoisted the try-
sail
instead of the mainsail. In those last twenty-four
hours
I realised what a pleasure it was to work with
Mobile.
Whenever we shifted sail with my old crew
there
were growls and curses. Mobile just accepted it as a
matter
of course, with a grin on his face. He was amaz-
ingly
quick.
I
found, though, I had much more work to do than
ever
before. Louis did not pick up anything at all, partly
because
he had no aptitude, partly because he was too
much
endowed with a race superiority complex to con-
descend
to learn anything from Mobile. He even in a
clumsy
way attempted to teach Mobile things Mobile had
known
for many years. So, in the end, I always left Louis
at
the helm and handled all the sails myself with Mobile.
In
addition, I had the navigation to do, my time on
watch,
and my general function as skipper, which really
means
being willing to be called at any hour wearing a
cheerful
smile.
Mobile
was preparing three meals a day, washing up
and
generally keeping things tidy, keeping the gear in
repair
and standing his watch. In addition, Louis tried to
use
him as steward and cabin-boy. He sat about in the
saloon
and whenever he wanted anything, yelled,
`Mobile,
Mobile', in a voice I would not use to a dog.
Moreover,
he used to spit saliva, orange-pips or orange
remains
on to the floor and expect Mobile to clean them
up.
I suggested gently to him at first that Mobile had
enough
to do, without waiting on him, and that he must
not
try to order him about in that tone of voice. He said
he
had been handling boys for years, and that that was
the
way to treat them. I replied that that was not my
way,
and that they were not to be treated so on my ship.
PANAMA
TO THE GALAPAGOS 97
But
he would not learn to behave properly, and in the
end
I was forced to announce that Mobile and he were on
an
equality and that Mobile need take no orders except
from
me.
On
the night of the squall I went below at ten o'clock,
leaving
the ship almost becalmed, but when I came on
deck
at midnight to relieve Louis I found to my pleasure
that
the ship was slipping along to the south-south-west at
about
two knots, with a gentle breeze from the south-east.
The
breeze lasted all night, the following morning back-
ing
to the east-south-east and becoming fresher, so we
hoisted
the mainsail and made good progress. It was
distinctly
cooler; we were quickly slipping south; there
was
a look of trade winds about the sky; so we all felt very
cheerful.
But towards evening, the wind hauled round to
the
south and the sky became covered with thick black
clouds.
Extracts from my log concerning that night run:
`Sunday,
April 26th. From 6.0 a.m. until time of
writing
(8.30 p.m.) we have been surrounded by squalls
which
have not happened, but I am expecting trouble all
the
time. We are just about halfway to the Galapagos.
Monday,
April 27th, 8.30 p.m. The patent log read
444
miles. Observed position at 3.15 p.m., was 3 degrees 17'
North,
84 degrees 45' West. There has been a fresh breeze from
the
south all day, and the course was south-west by south.
Last
night I turned in at 10.00. Louis called me at
10.40
to say the ship would not steer. I found her aback
and
put her back on her course. Louis called me at 11.30
to
say the weather looked very threatening. The whole
heaven
was piled up with masses of black clouds, with
lightning
playing and incessant roll of thunder. How-
ever,
the wind was steady from the south, and there was a
thin
space of clearness between the clouds and the hori-
zon.
I decided to carry on. Took over from Louis at mid-
night.
Fine, clear moonlight night with not a cloud to be
98
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
seen.
At 1.30 a.m. everything was blotted out with
massed
black clouds and with more thunder and light-
ning.
Looked like a super-hurricane. Kept on, thinking I
ought
to call crew and get mainsail on deck, but hung on.
Half
an hour later, it was a clear moonlight night again.
I
have a pet nightmare when I am ill, which dates back
to
my earliest childhood. It takes many forms but the
essence
is always the same. I am struggling against some-
thing
and when everything gets hopeless and I am in
an
agony of terror, things suddenly go well. Then again
they
get hopeless and again get well, and so on inter-
minably
until I wake up in a sweat. Well, this succession
of
weather resembled my pet nightmare much too
closely
to be pleasant, for at 2.45, the sky looked worse
than
ever. So I stayed on watch till 3.30, when every-
thing
in the garden was again lovely. I then called
Mobile
to take over. At 4.00 a.m. he called out there was a
really
bad squall coming. I went on deck: it did look as if
all
the threats of the night were going to be fulfilled, so I
got
the mainsail down on deck, but I was probably most
influenced
by the thought that thus I would get some
sleep.
As we were getting it down, the squall tore across
our
bows without touching us, and in a few minutes the
night
was cloudless and serene. But I left the mainsail
where
it was, with orders to wake me at 8.00 a.m. to reset
it.'
That
squall marked the end of the Doldrums and was
the
last we had. It had been a wearing time, but we were
extraordinarily
lucky in getting through so quickly, just
four
days. In that zone one is always on the horns of a
dilemma.
If you do not take advantage of every wind, you
can
stay there until Doomsday; if you don't get sail off her
in
time you may carry away everything. You have to
carry
on until the last minute of safety and not an
instant
longer.
PANAMA
TO THE GALAPAOOS 99
Next
morning we had a stiff breeze from the south and
we
sailed close-hauled south-west by west, the ship bucking
into
a head sea and dipping her bows under for the first
time
since the gale off the coast of Portugal. We might
have
been beating down Channel from, say, the Start to
the
Lizard. The forecastle hatch, which had been re-
caulked
in Tenerife eight months before, leaked badly,
but
Mobile recaulked it.
On
April 28th, seven days out, our observed position at
2.30
p.m. S.A.T. was 3 degrees 23' North, 85 degrees 23'
West
and the log read 484.
I
found that we were drifting about twenty miles a
day
to the westward and as the wind had shifted to the
west
of south and we could only sail west by south, I
went
about. We were able to sail south-south-east a quar-
ter
east on the starboard tack.
The
previous night the wind dropped to nothing
during
my watch, while the sky did its usual rehearsal for
the
Day of Judgment. As the main boom was all over
the
place, I disturbed the crew for the first time during
my
watch and got the mainsail down. That was the first
night
we began to notice it was getting cold.
Next
day we had a very poor breeze, which fell to
practically
nothing at nightfall; so I thought we would
have
a peaceful night. We got the mainsail down and
hauled
the headsails in flat, let the mizen sheet out
about
two feet, and she pointed five points from the
wind,
seeming to forge ahead slowly. We brought our
bedding
on deck and slept peacefully. I was the first to
wake
up at 8.00 a.m. and she was still on her course.
My
favourite rig for a boat is a cutter, but I am
beginning
to think there is something to be said for a
yawl
in tropical waters. It is very handy to be able to put
your
mainsail on deck and still have some after canvas to
keep
her head on. Yet you still have almost as large a
100
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
mainsail
as you would have on a snugly rigged cutter.
There
is too much loss of efficiency on a boat under fifty
foot
waterline, rigged as a ketch or schooner.
In
English waters I do not see much advantage in the
yawl
rig on a yacht. There it either blows or it doesn't.
You
don't get series of calms and squalls and want to
lower
your mainsail for half an hour. You want two reefs
or
full sail. Moreover, as you spend most of your time
beating,
you want the most efficient possible rig to wind-
ward.
I am sure many English yachts are yawl or ketch
rig
merely because fishing boats are. That is quite a
different
matter; fishing boats need a small riding sail for
their
work. Of course, if you always use your motor when
going
to windward, it is again a different matter.
We
got a good breeze the following morning and all the
next
day, and on April 30th were in l degree 34' North and
85
degrees 5' West. Then, as the wind had hauled to the east-
ward,
I went about and was able to steer south-south-west
or
south-west by south. We were 275 miles from the
Galapagos,
but had only 120 miles of southing to make.
The
nights had begun to get very cold. I could manage
in
long trousers over my shorts and a thick tweed coat,
but
Mobile and Louis, who have tropical constitutions,
complained
a lot. I gave Mobile a thick sweater I bought
for
coxing an eight at Cambridge in mid-winter, and he
was
still cold. Both he and Louis looked very funny at the
wheel,
all huddled up and muffled in blankets, like a
couple
of ancient squaws. Louis also suffered from the
strange
delusion that you can catch cold by feeling cold.
That
night was the first really clear night since leaving
Panama,
and there was an almost full moon. I remember
thinking
to myself as I watched a gorgeous sunset, with a
glass
of rum in my hand, what a wonderful life this was
and
how I must go on leading it for a long, long time.
Somehow
or other, I determined, I would get about all
PANAMA
TO THE GALAPAGOS 101
over
the South Seas; with the boat if I could, if not, some
other
way. Sailing, if you are made that way, never
becomes
satiating; the more you do the more you want
to
do. The first day or two you are never comfortable or
at
ease, but soon the solitude and beauty of the open sea
soak
into you, and you feel a wonderful sense of well-
being,
and a strange content.
On
May 1st we were becalmed all day. Rab had spent
several
days in Panama teaching Louis how to manage
the
engine and I was assured he knew all about it. I had
been
suggesting for several days that he should try it to
see
if it were working properly. He kept on putting it off
but
this time I insisted.
After
some time I heard a few abortive explosions, then
he
said there was a rope twisted round the shaft and he
would
try again the next day. There was not a breath of
wind
that night and a sea like glass, so I just let the boat go.
We
all slept on deck and I arranged that if we got a wind
later,
whoever's ordinary watch it was would take over.
Louis
woke me at 3.30 a.m. to say that there was a slight
breeze.
I said `Good, my watch is over', and called
Mobile.
We had a lot of trouble getting under way again
and
it took over twenty minutes to wear her. I did not get
out
of my warm bed, however, but superintended the
proceedings
from under two blankets. Once she was on
her
course again I turned over and went happily to sleep.
I
woke at 8.00 a.m. to find her slipping along nicely, and
as
we could sail south-south-west with the wind two points
free,
I decided to set both the gaff and jib-topsail. This
was
the first time Mobile had set either, but he and I set
the
jib-topsail in a quarter of an hour and the topsail in
twenty
minutes.
Mobile
was a dream to work with, he was so amazingly
quick.
I remember the first time we set the jib-topsail
Tony,
Jenkins and Jack took two hours, cursing all the
102
A
MODERN SEA BEGGAR
time.
Jenkins was not really slow, but Jack's swearing and
blinding
used to rattle him.
The
wind continued to increase till noon, and for a
couple
of hours we were logging six knots. We have no
cross-trees
for our short topmast in order that we may be
able
to brace our yard to the full extent, so we just take
the
weather side stay aft and pull tight on it with a
tackle.
This works quite well with the topsail or the
raffee,
but with the jib-topsail the topmast was bending
too
much for my piece of mind. However, the wind
dropped
quickly and by evening everything was banging
about
in the old familiar fashion.
I
calculated that we had crossed the Line at about
5.30
p.m., so we drank to the Southern Hemisphere in a
punch
composed of two glasses of rum, half a glass of
Board
of Trade lime juice, four tablespoonfuls of sugar
and
three glasses of water. I noted in my log that night
that
I had crossed the Line about the same date, fourteen
years
before on my way to Mesopotamia. I also remarked
that
I hoped I had said good-bye to the North Star for at
least
a couple of years.
That
night when I went on watch at midnight, there
was
not a breath of wind, so I wrapped myself up in a
blanket
by the wheel and went to sleep. I was awakened
at
five by a faint stir in the air. I called Mobile and we
spent
half an hour in getting her on her course again.
The
wind was light all that day and fell to nothing again
towards
evening. When I took my meridian altitude, I
found
to my chagrin that we had drifted back into the
Northern
Hemisphere. My latitude was 0 degrees 12' North
and
had been O degrees 6' North the previous day, but we were
forty
one miles to the west.
The
following day, my meridian altitude gave my
latitude
as 0 degrees 36' South and my longitude worked
out
as 87 degrees 55' West. The latitude of Chatham Island
PANAMA
TO THE GALAPAGOS 103
is
0 degrees 50 south. I sailed on south-south-west that afternoon till I calculated I
was on the parallel. For the last few days I
had
been set to the west at the rate of about 1.2 knots
and
to the north at one knot. So I set a course to allow for
this.
We
had a trying day. I drove Louis to the engine at
noon
and he freed the rope. He got a few abortive
explosions
out of her, but spent hours feebly cranking her.
Then
he announced that it had seized up. I poured
paraffin
into it, got it loose, cranked it and started it about
five
o'clock. It ran quite well and I let it go on for about
twenty
minutes, then stopped it and hoped for the best.
I
then took the wheel, telling Louis to get our new
paraffin
incandescent lamp lighted. A minute later there
was
a crash and going below I found he had dropped it
and
smashed the globe. I got out our only spare and went
back
to the wheel. A few minutes later I saw a blaze of
fire
coming up through the saloon top. I fell down the
companion,
cursing, incidentally putting my bare foot
hard
on the remains of the broken globe, and found
Louis
staring at the blaze. I let the pressure out and the
blaze
subsided. I then sat down to investigate and dis-
covered
that someone had put paraffin in the methylated
spirit
filler, but I never discovered the culprit.
Immediately
after this, the outhaul of the mainsail
parted.
This was due to scamped work in Barbados,
which
I ought to have noticed: when they had re-cut the
mainsail,
they had substituted two rotten rope eyeholes
for
the brass ring that had been spliced in with heavy
rope.
Altogether
I felt very cross and irritable that night. I
always
get jumpy when I get near land; the succession
of
accidents had not improved matters, and we spent the
night
rolling about with the wind two points on the port
quarter.
104
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
During
Louis' watch, I felt all the time he would com-
plete
the tale by gybing her and carrying something
away
but, as it happened, when he did the wind was too
light
to do any damage.
The
following morning the wind was very light and
dead
aft, so I decided to get the mainsail down and set the
squaresail
and raffee. I took the wheel in order to luff her
and
let Louis help to get the mainsail down. He signalised
the
event by putting his foot through the saloon top. The
glass
is protected by brass rods, but he went through the
lot.
I was furious, as he was wearing shoes, which I had
forbidden
him to do. He is naturally very clumsy, and
the
shoes made him worse; besides, wearing shoes made
him
indifferent to the fish-hooks, broken glass, harpoons
and
old tins that he left about. He sustained one slight
scratch
over the ankle and wanted me to suspend opera-
tions
while I administered iodine and bandages; but I
told
him to throw salt water on it and go to the wheel
while
I completed the sail shifting with Mobile.
When
I took my meridian altitude, I found my latitude
to
be 1 degree 20' South. I was thirty miles too far south.
Evidently
the Humboldt Current had ceased to operate.
My
longitude worked out at 89 degrees 14' West, making me
about
thirty-two miles to the east-south-east of the south-
east
point of Chatham Island, so I altered course to west-
north-west.
The
wind was light all day and it was misty, but I
definitely
saw land ahead at 4.00 in the afternoon. I took
a
position line at 5.00 o'clock which made me twenty-five
miles
away. At 7.30, I was eighteen miles away and
I
set a course for the shoal which is marked on the
chart
four miles west of Wreck Point. There were two
fathoms
marked over it, but I thought it would be safer
to
clear it and worked out the position of Dalrymple Rock
to
do so. Once I was on this bearing I intended to sail on
PANAMA
TO THE GALAPAGOS 105
Dalrymple
Rock. The shoal at that hour was thirty-two
miles
away.
At
9.00 p.m., there was a thick mist, but I went below
determined
to get three hours sleep as I knew I would not
get
any later, and everything was safe for the time being.
At
midnight I went on watch. There was an arrow on
the
chart, nineteen miles from the shoal, setting me on
my
course at one knot, and another fifteen miles away
setting
me on my course at two knots.
I
decided to reckon a current of one knot from my
dead
reckoning position at 7.30 and a current of two
knots
from the arrow marked thus. When I went on
deck
there was a fair breeze and we were sailing. From
time
to time, during my watch, I caught a glimpse of
hiqh
land through the mist to the north. This was where
it
should have been, but it was very indefinite.
At
3.00 a.m. I could see nothing, but calculated I was
seven
miles from my shoal. I had still two and a half
hours
until it was light, and two and a half hours at two
knots
is five miles, so I called Mobile and we took all sail
off
her except the jib. Then I went below and lay down,
telling
Mobile to report every half hour.
At
5.30 he reported it was getting light, and he
could
see land about three miles away. I went on deck
and
could just distinguish, through the mist, a mountain,
which
appeared to be the whole island, and I estimated it
to
be about thirty miles to the north-east by east, dead to
windward.
I groaned and decided I had overshot my
mark
by about twenty-six miles. I woke Louis, told him to
start
the motor, and went below to verify my calculations.
The
motor gave a few coughs but nothing happened.
Mobile
had a go at it, then I, with no result. Finally,
Louis
got it going, but it stopped in thirty seconds. We
each
had another go with no result. Meanwhile, we were
drifting
off to the west with wind and current. Mobile
106
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
and
I got sail on her and at half past six started on what
seemed
a hopeless beat against wind and current.
Then
the mist suddenly cleared and I recognised
Dalrymple
Rock, Wreck Point, Progresso and the Kicker
Rock.
I took cross bearings and found I had timed every-
thing
beautifully and that I was just clearing the shoal
by
about a quarter of a mile. At the same time, the wind
freed
us two points on our course for Dalrymple Rock,
the
landmark for Wreck Bay.
I
kept the crew sweating at the engine and swore that
I
would not go into Wreck Bay without it-though I
knew
in my heart that I would. For I have ceased for
many
years struggling much about decisions. I let myself
go
through the dreary struggle with a sort of detached
interest,
always knowing all the time what I am really
going
to do. I was very afraid of making a mistake and
wrecking
the boat and thus losing my chance of getting
to
the South Seas. On the other hand, I had crossed the
Doldrums
under sail alone and I felt I would like to get
into
port under sail alone. Nevertheless, the name,
Wreck
Bay, is sufficient to make one pause. Gerbault has
described
its difficulties; it was a dead beat in, and the
Inyala
is very apt to miss stays.
So
as we went sailing on gently towards Dalrymple
Rock,
I went below and worked out the exact course into
the
bay.
I
found that when the rock bore 335 degrees (magnetic), a
course
of 155 degrees (magnetic) would just shave Lido Point
-
there is a patch of three fathoms off Lido Point, but that
I
could ignore.
Meanwhile,
the crew still struggled with the motor,
their
last hope of any shore leave before the Marquesas
fast
vanishing, for it had become hopelessly seized up and
almost
immovable.
When
we were about half a mile from the rock, we
PANAMA
TO THE GALAPAGOS 107
were
suddenly becalmed and we drifted round in circles
for
half an hour. Then it started blowing gently from the
north-north-west,
dead into the bay.
In
a few minutes the rock bore 355 degrees. Not really
believing
this wind could hold, I ordered the helm to be
put
up and we bore away into the bay.
Ahead,
to starboard, the sea was breaking in huge
rollers
over the whole of the Schiavoni Reef, from which
projected
the masts of a large steamer; to port there were
breakers
off Lido Point; between there appeared to be a
passage
about eleven feet wide.
I
left Louis at the wheel, sent Mobile up the port
rigging
and went myself up the starboard rigging to conn
her
in. As Louis was steering 1 did not let out much
mainsheet.
The
wind was just aft of the starboard quarter. For a
time
everything went nicely. As the boat was steering
like
a steamer, Louis was in his element and steered
beautifully
to degrees as I shouted them from the rigging.
I
had decided to keep to the Lido Point side, as there the
danger
was better defined and the pilot book talked about
a
set towards the Schiavoni Reef. But we were set the
other
way, and I steered more and more south-155 degrees-
157°-160
degrees-165 degrees-170°, my orders ran.
Then,
just opposite the point, there was a sudden
squall;
crash went the boom over to starboard and I
thanked
my stars for the short mainsheet. We ran on
another
hundred yards when I suddenly felt the wind in
my
face, just on the port side, then I felt her way check.
I
fell down the rigging, hauled the staysail sheet tight on
my
way, pushed Louis away from the wheel, put it hard
over
and bore away just in time to keep her out of irons.
At
the same time I shouted to Mobile to sheet the jib
home
and tried to get Louis to haul on the mainsheet,
but
before Louis had finished looking at it, Mobile, who
108
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
was
jumping about like a cat, pushed him out of the way
and
hauled it in. We tore down on the wreck like a
train.
I had no time to refresh my memory from the
chart,
but was fairly sure that there was water right up to
the
wreck. Anyway I reckoned if a large steamer had got
as
far as that, there ought to be plenty of water for us. I
was
right; there is four and a half fathoms marked on the
chart.
I
intended to keep her quite free and not to risk
missing
stays, however many tacks I might have to make.
But
just as we were going about and Mobile had his hand
on
the staysail sheet, the wind shifted again and freed us,
and
I was able to make the pier.
Mobile
got the staysail and jib down with incredible
rapidity,
and I dropped anchor in four fathoms, about
300
yards from the pier. I gave a heartfelt sigh of relief
and
felt very pleased with myself, but I was very tired.
I
congratulated Mobile on his seamanship. He is an
extraordinary
mixture. He does not know the points of
the
compass and cannot, I think, manoeuvre a boat; but
he
has an instantaneous knowledge of any sort of gear on
deck
and works with amazing speed. He grasps in a
second
what you are after. So we were safely at anchor in
Wreck
Bay, having made the passage in sixteen days
under
sail alone, which was less than half as long as I had
expected.
Looking round and breathing the tonic quality
of
the air, I thought the Galapagos were well worth
coming
to see.
VIII
THE
GALAPAGOS
1.
CHATHAM ISLAND
We furled the sails in a leisurely fashion, and had
just
finished making things shipshape on deck when we
saw
a boat coming off from the shore; it was about eleven
in
the morning. I thought I had better dress up to meet
the
port officials, so I put on a shirt and a pair of shorts.
As
the boat approached we could see it was full of people,
including
one woman, and a few minutes later I was
greeting
the Governor and his wife, his A.D.C., Senor
Cobos
and two other men.
I
invited them all below-where there was a most
horrid
mess-and got out cigarettes and Barbados rum.
They
said they didn't really want a drink, but would
have
one just to wish me luck. Then we started to talk.
I
can speak French fluently but badly, Louis knows
some
Spanish; Alain Gerbault has testified to the per-
fection
of Senor Cobos' French, one of the others
knew
a little French, but the Governor and his wife
spoke
only Spanish. Nevertheless we all talked thirteen
to
the dozen.
After
the drink to wish me luck I suggested another,
and
then the party started. It broke up at five o'clock, and
we
had got through five bottles of rum and six tins of
cigarettes.
We parted, swearing undying friendship, and
I
was invited to renew the good work at Senor Cobos'
hacienda
the following day.
I
had a bath and, feeling dead tired, was just sitting
down
to eat some spaghetti when one of the party re-
turned
with a friend, both wanting a medical examination.
109
110 A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
I
complied; spironeme pallida was the culprit in one case,
a
diplococcus in the other.
When
they left I swallowed the meal and fell asleep
immediately
after, but I was awakened about midnight
by
a most infernal racket: it was the A.D.C., very mellow.
I
was very angry at being wakened and told him
to
go away, but he went on staggering about and woke
Mobile,
who interpreted for me that he had lost his key.
I
think he was hoping for more drink and cigarettes,
but
he insisted on searching the whole ship, without
any
results. I got him away at last, without giving him
a
drink or a cigarette, though he kept on circling round
them.
The
following day, May 7th, after a good sleep, I re-
moved
seventeen days' growth of beard, weeping bitterly
as
I did it. Next I had a bath in the dinghy, the seams of
which
had opened, as I had been warned the bay was full
of
sharks.
On
going ashore we found two horses waiting for us,
with
the sort of saddles that I thought were only seen in
Wild
West films: the high Mexican saddles with iron
shoes
instead of stirrups. I was taught to ride as a child,
and
had to ride a lot during the war, but since then I had
always
declined a mount when it was offered me: at the
bottom
of my heart I consider horses dangerous and un-
certain
creatures. However, there seemed to be quite a
crowd
watching, so I tried to mount with nonchalance, as
if
it were an everyday event, and, perched on my high
saddle,
felt I had ceased playing at sailors and was now
playing
at cowboys.
We
rode up and up along a rough bridle path towards
Progresso,
the one settlement on the island. Our way led
through
bush and forest, and along this road alone there
were
enough guavas, oranges and lemons to feed a large
population.
As I remained stuck to my horse I became
THE
GALAPAGOS 111
more
venturesome, tried galloping, and reined up outside
Senor
Cobos house with quite a flourish.
I
was introduced to Senora Cobos, a very beautiful
Norwegian
whose father had been one of the Norwegian
settlers
on the island, and after a cocktail or three sat
down
to a perfectly wonderful meal composed entirely of
island
products, without a single thing from a tin. When
you
have been at sea any length of time it is always fruit
you
crave for; we had tumblers of orange juice with the
lunch,
and melons, water-melons, and pawpaws to finish
up
with. I ate and ate and ate. We talked, in French and
English,
of my distinguished predecessor-Ralph Stock,
Alain
Gerbault, and others. The last yacht there had been
the
Southern Cross, about two months before, which Rab
had
seen building on the Clyde while looking for a boat
for
ourselves.
After
lunch I rode over the hacienda with Senor Cobos.
It
was a sad sight; everywhere evidence of decay. A
broken-down
factory, acres and acres of sugar-cane going
to
waste, weed-grown tracks and derelict machinery.
Senor
Cobos explained that they found it impossible
to
get labour, and acres of sugar-cane had rotted for
want
of cutters and men to work his factory; but it was
only
later that I learnt the whole history of this tragic
hacienda.
It
was, in the exact meanings of the verbs, hewn and
blasted
out of the wilderness by Senor Cobos father, and
it
became a very valuable property. The elder Cobos was
apparently
a man of great physical and mental force, over-
bearing
and masterful, a slave-driver and a lover of
fealty
for its own sake. He got convict labourers from the
Ecuadorian
Government and worked them unmercifully.
The
slaves swore to get him, but he was utterly fearless
and
had all the firearms. One revolt broke out, in which
the
old man was wounded, but he escaped into the bush
112
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
and
was succoured by his body-servant. When he had re-
covered
he returned and restored order. He used to flog
the
convicts, but one day, when yet again he had ordered
a
man twenty-five lashes, the convicts told their overseer
that
if he did not help them to kill Cobos they would kill
him,
the overseer. The overseer thereupon shot Cobos,
but
not fatally, and the old man put up a tremendous
fight
for his life, but was eventually hacked to pieces
with
machetes.
On
his death the estate passed to his son-in-law, Senor
Alvarados,
who still owns it. The Senor Cobos who enter-
tains
the yachtsmen of all nations on their way to the
South
Seas is the son of another wife and is the manager
of
the plantation. The estate is supposed to be passing
into
the hands of a German company in Guayaquil, to
whom
Alvarados is reputed to owe a hundred thousand
dollars.
On
the Saturday we entertained four Norwegians; two
of
them had come over from Santa Cruz in a small open
cutter
to send their dried fish to Guayaquil by the Cobos
schooner;
the other two had settled at Chatham. They
are
remnants of the two Norwegian colonies which at-
temped
to settle the islands of Santa Cruz and Chatham
about
five years ago. What exactly went wrong is rather
hard
to gather; I heard more of the story later. There
certainly
seems to have been financial knavery some-
where,
everybody I have talked to is agreed on that
point.
They are likewise agreed that other causes of
failure
were: lack of regular transport for their produce,
bad
marketing, and above all the lack of a leader. The
enterprise
was co-operative, and decisions were only
arrived
at with difficulty and never stuck to.
It
was good that night to sit down to a Nordic drinking
party
again, but it used up a lot of alcohol. Four bottles
of
rum went west, and it was only at the third that any-
THE
GALAPAGOS 113
one
talked, except Louis. These four men were well con-
tent
with their lot, and said they were gradually making
headway.
They live by fishing and are slowly making
farms
for themselves out of the wilderness. When it be-
comes
comfortable enough they intend getting wives
from
Norway. They are badly hampered though by lack
of
transport, and cannot get their fish to Ecuador. They
offered
me the job of taking their fish to Guayaquil, and
I
was almost persuaded to abandon the South Seas, turn
my
saloon into a hold and spend the rest of my life trans-
porting
their dried cod. They suggested I should try it
just
once, and there would have been about a hundred
dollars
in the transaction, but it was not worth ruining
the
boat with the smell of dried fish. I was tempted
though.
We
had been invited to Senor Cobos again next day,
and
I regretted that I had not realized that riding
breeches
and riding boots are an indispensable part of a
deep
sea sailor's equipment. I had come back from my
last
ride without any skin over the lower part of my
sacrum
or over the tuberosities of my ischium. This time
I
tried wearing a pair of shorts under my flannel
trousers.
After
another wonderful lunch we set out with a guide
to
ride to the two crater lakes, which are about two
thousand
feet up in the interior. It was a ride which will
always
remain in my memory as one of my most lovely
experiences.
I understood from Senor Cobos that none of
the
other people on yachts who had come to the island
had
ever bothered to do it. We rode up and up, first
through
sugar-cane and forest, then low bush and finally
bare
grass and on into utter desolation. We passed round
two
peaks, and just below the backbone of the island
came
upon a little lake, on the far side of which grazed
wild
horses and wild cattle. I wanted to stop, but the
114
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
guide
urged me on, and about four hundred feet higher,
set
into the very crest of the ridge, we came upon the
perfect
lake. The old crater formed a complete circle
about
two thousand yards across and about a hundred
feet
deep. At the bottom was a little gem of a lake,
emerald
green and perfectly still. From the crest we
could
see the sea on every side, and to the north mile
upon
mile of undulating green desolation, broken by
mountain
peaks. Around us wild cattle and horses posed
against
the skyline.
As
I gazed clouds began to roll up from the east. They
did
not settle in mist, but rolled about us, clearing and
coming
down again. It was really an enchanted spot, and
we
lingered and lingered, completely enthralled. The day
died
in red glory in the west, and as the sun went down
it
coloured the clouds round us every shade of rose and
pink.
I expected every minute to feel wings budding out
from
my shoulders and to find a harp in my hands.
As
night came on I began to shiver and we started back.
Then
I had some excitement. I am sure I have never be-
fore
ridden a horse faster than at a walk along so high a
road.
But we went two-thirds of the way down that
mountain
side at full gallop in the gathering dark. It was
too
exhilarating to feel much fear, but it was wildly ex-
citing,
and when I still found myself on my horse after
half
an hour of this going, I began to feel that perhaps I
could
ride a bit after all. Never will I forget that day; but
I
was dog-tired when I got back to the Cobos' for dinner,
and
the ride back to the ship was sheer torture. I had
spent
about eight hours in the saddle.
I
lingered on at Chatham until Friday, May I5th, for
no
particular reason except that I liked the place. I
thought
then, and I still think, that the climate of the
Galapagos
Islands is the finest in the world. It is just
warm
enough to go about in shirts and shorts all day.
THE
GALAPAGOS 115
There
is plenty of sun, but it has none of the fierce tropic
quality,
it is the kindly sun of temperate latitudes, and is
often
obscured. The atmosphere is dry and very definitely
bracing;
the nights have just a pleasant chill about them,
so
that you need a coat to sit in and a blanket to sleep
under.
You develop an enormous appetite and quite a lot
of
energy. It is completely a white man's country. There
are
no endemic diseases, no dangerous animals on land,
no
poisonous insects.
Senor
Cobos and the inhabitants generally were very
good
to us, and we left Chatham loaded to the gunwale
with
oranges, lemons and bananas. But I should advise
anybody
going there to take an unlimited number of
cigarettes,
cigarette papers, matches and West Indian
rum.
These, with clothes or footwear of any description,
tools,
nails, screws, rope and string, empty bottles and
empty
tins, in fact any manufactured article, have all the
greatest
value. It takes a very long time for any one who
has
passed his life in a highly industrialized country to
realize
that cups and nails and pins and string and paper
do
not grow on trees. The islands provide their inhabi-
tants
with abundant good food in the way of fish, beef,
pork,
plantains, sweet potatoes, yucca, sugar, coffee and
alcohol,
and they have raw tobacco; but everything else
has
to be imported, and there are very few exports to pay
for
these imports. Tinned food, butter, wheaten flour or
biscuits,
bacon, ham, jam, honey or manufactured cigar-
ettes
are all wonderful luxuries.
While
we stayed on at Chatham I kept on trying to get
Louis
to get the motor in working order, and with re-
peated
urgings I did at last get him to put in a few hours'
work
on it. However, there was no result. It was com-
pletely
seized and he could not move it. We put in lots of
paraffin,
but only succeeded in breaking the starting
chain.
116
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
One's
character is one's fate. My character hates
engines,
and thus I seem fated to sail without one. I ad-
mit
their usefulness but, hating them, of course neglect
them,
and so they will not behave. It would be much
better
if this one were not there at all. One should either
have
a reliable engine and take care of it, or dispense with
one
altogether. With one like mine, twenty-four years
old
at that time, if you are not careful you get yourself
into
situations from which only the engine can extricate
you,
and then find the damned thing won't work.
We
spent the last few days getting everything ship-
shape
and taking water on board. The mizen and staysail,
which
had developed slight tears, were repaired; the foot
of
the mainsail re-roped, the sheave of the mizen bumkin
re-bolted
and the shrouds set up. I wanted to have the
mizen
as a working sail. My prejudice is all for cutters
but
I have learnt the value of a mizen. Rab has a moral
prejudice
against cutters, yet if left alone never sets the
mizen.
Every sail on board was new except the mizen,
which
was rotten when we started.
But
the most arduous job was taking water aboard. We
took
it on board in great iron drums which had their
bung
in the middle. From the drums the water was
emptied
bucket by bucket, carried down below and then
emptied
into a ten-gallon container, and thence siphoned
into
the tank. It took six hours. Louis, as it was the soft
job,
arranged the siphon, and then complained it would
not
work, saying there was something wrong with the
tube.
I found he was trying to make the water run uphill.
He
tried to argue about it, saying-all the water he had
ever
known would, but I put him on to bucket carrying.
The
water reminded me of Tigris water, but I conclude it
is
uncontaminated for it did us no harm. It had the con-
sistency
and colour of cocoa and tasted like the smell of a
pottery-shed.
THE
GALAPAGOS 117
The
Chatham Islanders were more than good to us: I
wished
I had more rum and cigarettes to give them in
return.
Instead, I was myself forced to buy more drink
and
had to be very mean with cigarettes.
Rum
was four shillings a gallon in Barbados. Rab
wanted
to buy four gallons. I wanted to buy fifty. We
compromised
on twelve. We gave it away with such a
lavish
hand in Panama that we were forced to buy two
gallons
there at the rate of twenty-four shillings a gallon.
I
bought another four gallons at Chatham Island at the
rate
of twenty-five shillings a gallon. Both the latter pur-
chases
were really inferior stuff.
CHATHAM
ISLAND,
GALAPAGOS
ISLANDS,
May
12th 1931.
MOTHER
DEAREST,
As you will see from the above address I am
one
stage
further on my journey. I got across the Doldrums
in
sixteen days and into Wreck Bay under sail alone, as
the
motor won't work. I have now just 3,000 miles to do
to
the Marquesas, all in the Trade Winds, so all ought to
be
well.
I
did not think I would be able to write to you from
here,
but Senor Cobos, the lord of the Isle, has been very
good
to me, and is going to send it to Guayaquil when his
schooner
goes and thence by aeroplane post.
As
you will have heard from Rab I left Panama with a
queer
crew, a German ex-barman and a coloured boy
from
Barbados. The first is quite a good sort, but talks
too
much and is no sailor. He can steer a course when the
squaresail
is up, but gives me the cold shivers when the
mainsail
is set. Also he can learn nothing about gear, so
Mobile
and I have to handle all the sails. Mobile-the
West
Indian- is a wonderful sailor for the most part,
118
A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
and
seems to have perfect confidence in me and also to
be
quite devoted. We get on very well together, but he is
amazingly
childish, superstitious, excitable and irrespon-
sible.
But I am enjoying myself, I think, more than ever
before.
I am lord, master and complete autocrat, and I
will
be quite impossible to live with soon! It is extra-
ordinary
how dependent these two are on me.
We
did not do too badly getting down here. We got a
north
wind to start with and I crowded on every stitch
and
made 150 miles south in 36 hours. Then we got into
the
Doldrums, which behaved in the classic fashion-
calms
with unbearable heat, violent squalls, torrents of
rain
and thunderstorms. But I kept sail up and drove
south
with every squall. On the Sunday we got a really
violent
and prolonged one from the N.E., N. and N.W.
It
blew harder than I have ever known it, but I kept
my
headsails up and ran south. As soon as it moderated
a
little I set the squaresail, though the crew groaned, and
then
the raffee, and I made about seventy miles in eight
hours.
It
was the sort of blow in which Rab would have been
thinking
of the sea anchor. But I was well rewarded as I
had
got out of the Doldrums, and next day I got a gentle
breeze
from the south which, as the days went on, hauled
round
to the S.E. and I had no more squalls.
I
tried the motor four days before getting here, with
no
result. Then the day before, after Louis had played
with
it all day, I had a go at it myself and was successful.
Next
morning I told Louis to start it, but again there was
no
result, and I had to get into here under sail.
Mother,
these islands really are wonderful, and at last
I
have found the sort of thing I have been looking for.
Beauty,
desolation, remoteness, and with it all fertility
and
kindliness of environment.
120 A MODERN SEA BEGGAR
The
climate is absolutely perfect-cold at night, dry,
sunny
and warm during the day, with a constant breeze
and
very bracing. It is amazing, only fifty miles from the
Equator;
the reason is that there is a cold current from
the
south. I have abandoned playing at being a sailor for
the
last few days and have been playing at being a cow-
boy!
Senor Cobos has put horses at our disposal and we
have
had some wonderful rides. You should see me gal-
loping
about in a high Mexican saddle. Two days ago we
rode
into the interior, about 2,000 feet up, to see a crater
lake.
It was lovely beyond words and I will never forget
that
ride. Coming back we galloped full tilt down the
mountain.
I, who have not ridden a horse since 1918, and
who
have always refused a ride when Rab offered me a
mount!
I was too exhilarated to be very frightened, and
after
about half an hour began to feel I could ride. In
spite
of all temptation I never grasped the pommel once.
Well,
I expect to leave here the day after to-morrow and
I
am going to put in at Charles Island, about fifty-five miles
from
here. A German doctor has lived there for the last
two
years with his mistress. They go about naked and
live
on what they catch and cultivate themselves. He is
very
happy, they say. He chucked a brilliant career in
Germany
at the age of forty.
I
nearly decided to remain here myself, carrying salt
from
one island to another, and then fish to Guayaquil.
Well,
my dear, I will come back I suppose, though I
am
more and more convinced that it is very silly. Emsy
sent
me Freud's Civilization and its Discontents from New
York,
and he demonstrates quite conclusively that you
must
be unhappy in the present civilization. Freda
demonstrates
just as conclusively that the present one is
going
to bust up within the next few years, so why one
should
come back for the bust which will be extremely
unpleasant
god knows.
THE
GALAPAGOS 121
There
are two things I think which will bring me back.
You;
and the fact that in spite of everything I remain a
`bloody
intelligent'. I find I absolutely eat up a book about
the
things I am interested in, and would like sometimes
futilely
to make fun and laugh with other intellectual im-
potents
at the futility I would have returned to. But that
in
itself would not bring me, I think, if you were not
there.
. . .
I
cannot get along without a woman, and if there is
not
one attached to me I inevitably find another. When I
have
one I am quite faithful. The moment I am alone I
go
about like an unsaturated carbon atom and inevitably
get
attached.
From
Charles Island I sail for the Marquesas which
I
have written to-night as I felt, so show it to no one.
All
my love.
I
will try and spend two months in the Marquesas liv-
ing
as a native if it is still possible. Rab left me L40.
Do
try to find me a millionaire to send me L100 there! It
seems
very hard to get there and have to come back for
want
of cash. Very grateful to Rab, but he was a damned
fool
to go home. Also tell G and Walter they have lost
a
chance which is offered to few men.
might
only take a month, but it might take three.
TEMPLE.
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