COAST OF MADAGASCAR.

"A strong nor'wester's blowing, Bill;
Hark! don't ye hear it roar now?
Lord help 'em, how I pities them
Unhappy folks on shore now!"—Wm. Pitt.
"In noble minds some dregs remain.
Not yet purged off, of spleen and sour disdain."—Pope.

We sighted the coast of Madagascar about Fort Dauphin, but at a distance of nearly fifty miles, so that our view of it was not very distinct. But it is always a pleasure to a sailor to see land, and a great relief after many days of wearisome, changing, wave scenery to let the eye rest upon the everlasting hills. The mountains symbolize stability and unchangeableness, and as the aspirations of the heart are ever towards those things most in contrast with present experience, so the sailor's life of unrest and variableness disposes his dream of happiness to be one of enduring repose. This idea the land as contrasted with water expresses to his mind. A thrilling sensation always accompanies the sound of "Land, ho!" and longing glances are directed to the faintest loom of land in the horizon.

Our easterly winds continued and took us to the coast of Africa, which we sighted about Algoa Bay. Then the wind became light and variable and with smooth water we sailed slowly along in sight of the land for four days. One evening we sighted the light on Cape Agulhas, the south-east point of Africa, and with the wind freshening at N.N.E. soon ran it out of sight on the starboard quarter. Before this breeze sprang up we were in company with a large ship showing Dutch colors. She sailed alongside of us for a considerable time, then slowly gained ahead, crossed our bow and in a few minutes disappeared from sight, though the twilight gave a long range to the vision. Many were the conjectures about her, and some of our crew will always believe they saw the veritable "Flying Dutchman," the phantom ship that is supposed to cruise off the Cape of Good Hope. The legend concerning her, as many will remember, is, that a Dutch captain, who had encountered very severe gales, was advised to put the ship back to a port of distress, but swearing a terrible oath he declared he would beat around the Cape if it took him till the Day of Judgment. In punishment for his sin he is doomed to battle with the elements until that day, and his battered hulk, with threadbare sails and skeleton crew haunts the southern sea.

At eight in the evening we passed another ship bound the same way, but under close-reefed topsails, whereas we had the royals set. We hailed her and found she was the "Meteor" from Batavia, but whither she was bound, or where she hailed from, we failed to learn, for we went by her so fast there was no time for further questions.

"What can she be doing under that sail?" asked the mate.

"O, she has got a prudent captain," I replied. "The barometer has been down low for the last two days and no doubt there is a gale of wind coming on. I can't take in sail though in this country, with a fair wind blowing, until I see the breeze coming. Every mile here is precious and as long as there is a chance to gain ahead we must use it. But you must keep your eyes peeled to-night for nor'west squalls."

At ten o'clock I carefully inspected the wind and weather. It was a bright starlight night, with not a cloud to be seen, except that ahead in the horizon was a low streak that looked like a fog bank. A fresh breeze was blowing from the northward driving the ship along nine knots, with the yards just clear of the backstays, all sail being set. The mate had the watch on deck, and I said to him, "This is fine, I only hope it will last, but the glass says, No. However, very likely we'll have good warning before the change comes. Keep a sharp lookout and if it breezes on, or the weather looks threatening, get the light sails off of her and give me a call."

In half an hour after that, the mate shouted "clew up the fore royal," but no sooner had they let go the halyards than a furious blast from the north-west struck her flat aback. The helm was put hard up and having a good deal of headway the vessel fortunately "fell off." None of the watch below needed a call for every one was out of his bunk in a few seconds as the bark, nearly on her beam ends, and the shaking sails, gave their own summons. I was on deck promptly and shouted, "Lower down the spanker;" but the mate had his men forward hauling down the jib and flying-jib, for the sheets had parted and the sails were blowing into ribbons. The second mate got his watch along aft as soon as possible, and in the meantime I jumped on top of the after-house to let go the spanker throat-halyards. As I passed forward of the mizzen-mast to go to leeward, the wind and the inclination of the vessel gave me a slide, and away I went head foremost off the house on to the main deck. I had on rubber boots with my pants tucked into them, and as I fell the belaying-pin of the main brace went up the right boot leg and there I hung, heels up and head down in the lee-scuppers, while the good bark was lying beam on to the hurricane, which threatened every moment to dismast her, and in the meantime was blowing to pieces a number of her sails. The night was pitchy dark and the rain poured in large drops which, with the force of the wind, struck like hail, while the storm roared with a sound such as that with which the express train affrights one who stands on the platform of a country station past which it flies. I managed to extricate myself from this awkward position, and crawling to windward renewed the directions for shortening sail. The vessel was run off to the S.E. for two hours while we took in and furled every sail except the close-reefed main-topsail and then she was brought to the wind on the port tack.

That was a night we long remembered, and a hard time the crew had furling the wet sails in the cold rain, but there was one alleviation to their discomfort, for I had the cook "roused out" and ordered him to make coffee for all hands; and as soon as she was hove to, a mug of hot coffee and a cake of hard bread gave them one of the greatest treats they ever had in their lives.

"The prudent captain got the best of it this time," I said to the mate.

"I'm not so sure of that, sir," said he; "if he's been waiting two days for the wind to blow we've gained enough distance on him to pay for a good deal more damage than we've got."

"But it's a lucky job we did not lose our masts," I said; "if there had been a flaw anywhere they would have gone. Things held on well. Didn't it give you any warning?"

"No, sir," said the mate. "That bank that was hanging there ahead, when you were on deck, was what did the mischief. It seemed to hold about so and didn't look very threatening, but in five minutes it spread right up over the sky. I made a start to get sail in before it struck her, but I wasn't in time."

The gale blew very hard through the night and continued for seven days, but it moderated at times so that we set the whole topsails for a few hours. Four different times we were obliged to heave to under the close-reefed main-topsail and once it was "goose-winged." This time it blew a fearful gale. There was a black overcast sky, hanging so low down that it seemed not far above the mast heads, and driving across with great rapidity. Hard hail-squalls now and then passed over, and every face had to be shielded from the stinging violence of the hailstones. The sea was tremendous. At times there would be but one wave in sight, that, the whole ocean, and towering high up above the rail almost even with the tops it would come rolling on seeming to bear inevitable destruction; but as it approached, the good bark would gradually mount up its side, and then be whirled up and lifted over its summit like a little toy. As the waves broke, the wind lifted the whole crest into its arms and bore it onward mingling sea and air, driving the spray in horizontal lines high aloft across the ship. At about two o'clock in the afternoon a sea broke alongside and a good portion of its top came tumbling in over the weather rail. Nothing could resist its force. In went the galley and forecastle doors, the water-cask lashings gave way, the pig-pen on the main hatch was smashed all to pieces, the spare main-yard broke adrift, and the sea, having spent its force, found a passage for itself through the lee ports.

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Fishing off the Cape.

After this gale a calm prevailed for a few hours and we heeded Horsburgh's praise of the fishing on the Banks of Agulhas, by trying our fortune with the line. The only result, however, was the accompanying sketch of the performance.

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By these gales we lost eight days on our passage and only gained one hundred miles in nine days, an inspection of our track for ten days will show how hard it is sometimes for sailing vessels to make quick passages.

When fifty days out we sighted the revolving light on Cape of Good Hope, and the next day having a light westerly wind we stood along the coast to the northward and enjoyed a fine view of Table Mountain.

This turning of the corner was a joyous event. Now we pointed the ship's head towards home and realized that we were actually bound there, which it was hard to do while our course had any southing in it. Fine weather regions lay before us, and an immense load was removed from the captain's mind by the safe "doubling of the Cape."

South-east winds set in next, and we went "rolling down to St. Helena" before fresh trades, with very fine weather.

The steady winds and settled weather of the South Atlantic are always taken advantage of by the homeward bound ships to tar-down the rigging, paint and "fix up" generally for port. It is customary to keep all hands then, even in ships where it is not the continual practice. That is, instead of having only half of the crew at work at a time and alternating every four hours, all hands are kept on deck in the afternoon from one o'clock until six. They all get dinner together at twelve and no work is done from noon until one. At one all "turn to," and either all hands get supper together at six, or one watch gets theirs at half-past five and the other at six. Under the watch and watch system a sailor is on deck ten hours out of the twenty-four on one day and fourteen hours on the next, making twenty-four hours of work and twenty-four of rest in forty-eight. In the all-hands system a man is on deck thirteen hours one day and fourteen and a half the next, making twenty-seven and a half hours of work and twenty and a half of rest in forty-eight. To the advocates of the eight-hour system, this may seem an undue proportion of working hours, but it is to be remembered, however, that half of these hours occur in the night time, when, if the wind is steady and weather fine, there is no work to be done, and if the helmsman and the lookout are wide awake and the crew answer promptly to a summons, it would not be noticed in most ships if the men stole a nap on deck between times. But in "hard ships" the men are always kept moving. The officers of course at all times in their watch on deck must be wide awake and, it is presumed, on their feet, so that keeping all hands is more of a privation to them than it is to the sailors.

The mate asked me one night after we got past the Cape, if he should begin now to keep all hands until the work was done.

"Do you think you could get the work done with watch and watch?"

"I suppose we could," said the mate, "but we shall have to keep driving at it right up to Boston Light."

"Did you ever go through the trades with watch and watch?" I asked.

"No, sir, I never did," said the mate.

"Well, I never did myself till last voyage, then I was so well pleased with the result that I should like to try it again. The voyage before that, I came on deck one night, while we were keeping all hands, and found the second mate sitting on the bumpkin, his arms on the rail and his head buried down in them, while he was snoring after the style called 'driving the pigs to market.' The next day I had a talk with him about his neglect of duty. He acknowledged his fault, but said it occurred in spite of all he could do. He said he had tried every way he could think of to keep himself awake. He had walked the deck until he was compelled from sheer exhaustion to sit down, for it was a hot sultry night, and he had been on his legs all day long. He assured me very earnestly that he had not neglected his duty intentionally. Said he: 'Cap'n, did you ever have any fault to find with the way I kept the night watch before we had all hands?'

"'No,' I answered, 'none whatever.'

"'No, sir,' he said, 'and I am sure you had no occasion to. Excuse me,' said he, 'I don't mean to growl at your way of doing things, but I can't feel that an officer is greatly to blame if he is drowsy at night in an all-hands ship. I was studying it all out last night while I was dragging myself fore and aft the deck trying to keep awake, and this was what I made out: I get nineteen hours to myself out of forty-eight, and when you take out meal-times, dog-watch, a little time for keeping clothes in order and what time I give up to the ship in my watch below to help things along, I can't get more than twelve hours' sleep in two days. Six hours a day is thought a small allowance on shore where a man can sleep it right through. But our rest is so broken I don't believe it does as much good. Three hours and a half or four hours is the longest sleep one can get at a time, and then he has to stand four hours on deck before he has a chance to get another cat nap.'

"I felt he had a good deal of truth on his side, though I didn't like to tell him so, and I thought a good deal about it afterwards. The next voyage I resolved to try how watch and watch would work, and when we got into the S.E. trades, homeward bound, I told the mate to say to the men: 'There's just so much work that's got to be done before this ship reaches port; now if you can do it with watch and watch, you shall have it, but if there's any 'sogering' or loafing you'll be kept up in the afternoon.'

"We began it. The men all worked with a will, and I am certain that as much was done as on the previous voyage. I took special pains to compare, and all through I noticed that there was more drive, and less loafing, going for a drink, turns round the foremast, and long spells at the grindstone. On some of the large jobs, too, I had a good chance to judge. I suppose there's no job that admits of as many 'soger moves' as scrubbing ship outside. The men come up on deck every little while to haul up or 'fleet' the stages they are working on, and then they spin out the time before they get back by sharpening knives and scrapers, or getting a drink, and a good many other moves that every one knows, who has ever had to follow up old sailors.

"When we had all hands we scrubbed the ship around outside in one day and thought we had done a smart piece of work; but with watch and watch we scrubbed her and cleaned the chain-plates below the channels, beside, in the same time, and as far as I could see the work was done fully as well. The difference was, that the men all felt an interest in showing how the watch and watch system would work, and there was no dodging, or loafing, or spinning yarns on the stages.

"Now I should like to have you do the same thing this passage, and the fact is, I want to see it proved a second time before I go over to it altogether."

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Second officer sitting for his portrait, belaying pin in hand.

The next Monday the sailors supposed that we should begin of course to keep all hands in the afternoon, and when eight bells was struck at noon, they all opened their ears and looked out of the corners of their eyes at the mate, waiting for the expected and dreaded order, "All hands get dinner." But nothing was said, and the men kept on with their work, with their brains full of surmises as to what it meant. At one bell, when the watch came out, the mate mustered all hands at the main-hatch, and said to them: "Men, the captain says he's willing to give you watch and watch all the time, if you can get the work done. But this bark has got to be put in just as fine order as any ship that ever went into Boston harbor. Now we'll try you and see what you can do. But if the work lags, or there's any hanging back, I'll have you out."

So we went to work with the watch, fitting the rigging, and tarring down. The men did as well as we could wish, things went on quietly, and the work disappeared day by day faster than we had expected.

The crew presented a rather uncouth appearance on deck during this period, for one suit of clothes was devoted to serve through the tarring and then go overboard. The officers were not much more attractive in appearance, as the second mate's portrait will testify.

It had a good moral effect to secure one day's cleanliness out of seven, the result of our system of services in the cabin on Sunday.

The sailors in the Rocket were favored with good living, watch and watch, and kind treatment. They were never cursed, nor called by hard names. Instruction was given to those who desired it, and religious influences pervaded the vessel. The voyage was a pleasant one. Fine weather and favoring breezes usually prevailed, and the fairest regions of earth were visited. If sailors could ever be happy and contented, these circumstances, which probably were in marked contrast to the experiences of many, should have produced this result upon that crew.

When the voyage commenced they had no praise too good to bestow. They allowed they were in a good ship; the captain was the best man they ever sailed with; the officers were perfect gentlemen; the "grub" was first-rate. But, on the homeward passage, although everything was the same as when outward bound, the sailors sat down on their chests in the forecastle with their feast of "soft-tack" and apple-sauce in their pans, and, as the saying is, they growled like bears with sore heads. Their behavior on deck and manner of working was unexceptionable, but if their life and talk in the forecastle were chronicled it would convey the impression that they considered themselves an ill-used, poorly-fed and oppressed set of men.

The mate one evening practised an eaves-dropping in which he proved the truth of the old proverb, "listeners never hear any good of themselves." Old Nielson, a Swede, the best sailor-man in the ship, with his mouth stuffed nearly full of molasses gingerbread, was leading the growl. Said he, "I've been to sea thirty-two years and I never sailed in a worse ship than this is. Nobody aft knows what we get to eat, and that nigger gives us just as little as he likes. Last ship I was in the cap'n or mate went into the galley every day and saw things were cooked right and plenty of 'em, but here we don't get any more notice taken of us than though we were a parcel of dogs. If the old man had some crews with him I bet he wouldn't impose on them. But sailors don't seem to have any spunk now-a-days, same as they used to. There's a whole barrel of vinegar down below, and yet we can't have but two bottles full a week. What does he want to carry it home for? He's keeping it back just to spite us. Do you call that being a Christian? I call him a mean old skin-flint; if he's going to heaven, I don't want to go there."

Now what did all this mean? Why, just this. They had found some of the gingerbread not done quite through. That was all. On board of most ships they would have been hard at work with "all hands on deck," all the afternoon, and had hard bread and beef only for supper. No doubt they would have enlivened the meal by growling about that in just the same way. In spite of all his mutterings in the forecastle, this man Nielson would come out on deck and be a model man in his behavior. His cheerful, "Aye, aye, sir!" would ring out to every order, and his respectful manners joined to his good seamanship had made him a favorite with captain and officers.

The explanation of this unreasonable conduct is that expressed in the well-known lines of Dr. Watts:

"Let bears and lions growl and fight,
For 'tis their nature to."

So it is with an old sailor, he must growl. Officers of ships often say, they would not give a snap for a sailor that didn't growl, and there is a good deal of truth in the remark. It by no means follows that all who growl are good men, but it is certainly a fact that most of the thorough-going old sailors are inveterate growlers.

This growling is a natural result of the life they lead. Spleen enters more or less into the constitution of every one's character, and all, at times, desire an opportunity of exercising this latent spite upon some person or thing.

The man on shore has a wide range of objects upon which to scatter it. There are his household and family arrangements, his employment and business relations, the religious tenets of others, the affairs of his city and the politics of the country. He comes home from his day's business with an accumulation of spleen, resulting from numerous annoyances. His good breeding and consideration perhaps keep him from venting it upon his family, and he holds it in until after tea; then he takes up the evening paper, glances over its contents and entertains his patient wife or a friendly neighbor with a good, hearty growl about the stupidity of the cabinet officers, the short-sightedness of the President, the absurdity of the financial policy, and then berates a politician for his foolish speech. Now his pent-up wrath has escaped. He feels easier. Gradually cheerful conversation creeps in as his shrewd companion notices his subsiding temper. Soon all his vexations have escaped his mind or become far lighter burdens, and the next morning he walks down town with a good courage and joyous heart.

But as for Jack, what are his diversions of mind? What does he care for politics or religion or finance? Or, if he does care, where are the newspapers and the evening caller? Where are the public amusements or the endearments and consolations of social life? There are almost no occurrences to direct his thoughts away from a continual contemplation of, and brooding over the unpleasant circumstances of his life, and for lack of these he must continue to dwell upon the sole objects which interest him, and as a natural result their importance is magnified and the habit of such contemplation increases with every voyage.

When the mate reported the "growl" he had overheard, I said, "If I was a betting man I would lay a heavy wager that the day old Nielson arrives in port he will say I am the best captain he ever sailed with, and he never in his life sailed in such a good ship before." An exact verification of this remark occurred on arrival. It happened that the mate was riding in a horse-car, when old Nielson came in and sat beside him. He began to talk over the voyage, and soon exclaimed, "I've been to sea thirty-two years and that's the best ship ever I sailed in, and if I go to sea all my life, I never expect to find another man like our captain." This speech was very likely as far from the truth as were the growls uttered at sea, but it illustrates a proverbial habit of the sailor, to complain of his present circumstances and speak well of the past. Amidst the growling of the forecastle it is seldom that "last ship that I was in" is mentioned without praise. This fact ought to be remembered to the sailor's credit. However ungrateful and unappreciative he may appear with regard to his lot, in his memories the bright things are uppermost, and he is not prone to speak evil of old scenes and associates without good reason.

Reflections upon the incident narrated led to the attempt to illustrate the subject in rhyme, by verses, to be called "Sailors' Opinions," which were to be divided into two parts, entitled "This Ship," and "Last Ship." In this effort it was designed to portray a sailor's comments upon the ship he was then sailing in, and the same man's expressions concerning the same ship, uttered during his next voyage in another vessel. They are produced here, as they may be recognized as truthful by some who have lived in a ship's forecastle. It may be premised that sailors in the watch below generally talk in the evening from eight till half-past eight (one bell), and this is a favorite time for "growls." When one bell strikes, pipes drop from the mouth, growls cease and snores begin.

SAILORS' OPINIONS.

Part I.

"THIS SHIP."

SAILORS' OPINIONS.

Part II.

"LAST SHIP."

Even in the cabin there was a tendency to dissatisfaction, and the passenger expressed his weariness of our simple and restricted fare by composing a parody on the "Ode to the Rocket," in which she was abused as heartily as any old sailor could have done it. His pencil was also called into requisition, and the scantiness of fare on the cabin table was graphically portrayed.

Sea life is a severe test of disposition, and it must be a remarkable amiability which can endure its vicissitudes without complaint. Lord Byron's prescription for truly knowing a man: "Go to sea with him," is certainly correct, as regards knowledge of a man's temper.

The first verse of the Parody will serve as an example of its sentiment:

"IN THE DOLDRUMS—HOMEWARD BOUND."

Our stock of conversation got low after so long a season of intercourse, and many trivial arguments were sustained for lack of better material. Perhaps the most frequent of these minor themes was the question, whether the dish which sailors always call "Hash," was properly hash or minced meat.

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Illustrated bill of fare:—"Spuds and Soft Tack."

One of our greatest causes of annoyance, and a frequent occasion of growls was the presence of cockroaches, in numbers which can only be expressed by millions. The vessel for some time past, had been making yearly voyages, which brought her home in the summer and kept her in the Tropics in the winter, so this army had never been exposed to the potent destroyer, cold weather. They were not the little creatures that housekeepers are unpleasantly familiar with, but were almost more like birds than insects, and carried out this resemblance in certain conditions of the atmosphere, when they took to flying, tempting one to jump overboard to escape their attacks against his head. They were omnipresent day and night, alive, dead, whole or in parts. They eat the bindings of books and everything that had paste in its composition, and their especial relish seemed to be for pomade. In spite of all precautions so many had encamped in the sugar, we had to pass our tea through a strainer, and there was but little food free from their presence or flavor, after it was sweetened. Were it a less disgusting subject I could fill a volume with accounts of these creatures. I will only add one of the many experiences with them. They were very fond of frequenting my cabinet organ, and often while I was playing a note would become dumb. An inspection would usually show a cockroach leg caught by the reeds as its proprietor passed over them and left it behind him. A ship at San Francisco had to pay twenty thousand dollars for damages done to the cargo by cockroaches. The organ on leaving Padang had a more agreeable inmate, which remained in it for several weeks, a cricket, who entertained us with his evening chirp, and lulled one to sleep with the pleasing fancy that he was on shore.