Under Sail. Lincoln Colcord

       Lincoln Colcord

      Under Sail

      Published by Good Press, 2021

       [email protected]

      EAN 4064066096878

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Titlepage

       Text

      "

      AN INSTRUMENT OF THE GODS

      I

      "The longer I live" said Nichols from the darkness of his corner "the less of difference I see between the East and the West. I've been listening closely to you fellows. We are fond of saying that we don't understand the Oriental; but, let me ask you, do we fully understand our best friends—even ourselves? Whose fault is it? Or, failing to understand the Oriental, is it logical for us to consign him to a different sphere of human nature? Of course, it's the easiest way to dodge the real answer...."

      The old Omega had drifted that morning past Green Island, dropping anchor a little later among the fleet off Stonecutter's; and after dinner, moved by a common impulse, we had called our sampans and joined Nichols under her spacious after awning. There, with the broad land-locked harbour of Hong Kong under a half moon reflecting the perfect outline of the Peak, talk had wandered lazily along the range of our shipping activities, to reach at last, as it always did in such company, that world-old problem of the races of men.

      "I think I know the race of Chinamen" Nichols went on, while grunts of assent from several quarters of the deck gave testimony to his reputation. "Oh, yes, I know them. They are made of flesh and blood, if you'll believe me; they eat with their mouths, and think in the recesses of their skulls, just as we do. They marry, beget children, and pass through life. They love, fight, strive for gain, sin, suffer, learn lessons, regret, make restitution, are tempted by devils, struggle and triumph, or give up in despair, and finally die with their years and their secrets on their heads. The same old conscience pursues them. Yes, they are eaten up, like us, by the savage and devastating contest with self, the flesh and the spirit striving for the mastery; and out of the contest, like fire struck from clashing swords, come the sparks of ideas, of aspirations, of creative efforts, of wonder and joy, pain and fear, of all the infinite play of this star-spangled life of ours against the soft darkness of the unknown sky.... You fellows have been discussing only superficialities. At heart, you and the Oriental are the same. The Chinese are romantic, I tell you; they are heroic, they are incorrigibly imaginative. You think not? Let me tell you a tale"

      Suddenly Nichols laughed, a snort that might have been of self-derision. "You won't be convinced" he chuckled "I see it already. You'll derive from this tale, no doubt, only further confirmation of the unlikeness you imagine. So be it. I merely warn you not to be too sure. Strip my friend Lee Fu Chang naked, for instance, destroy and forget about that long silken coat of his, embroidered so wonderfully with hills and trees and dragons, dress him in a cowboy's suit and locate him in the Rocky Mountain region of fifty years ago, and the game he played with Captain Wilbur won't seem so inappropriate. It's only that you won't expect a mandarin Chinaman to play it. You'll feel that China is too old and civilized for what he did...."

      II

      "Some of you fellows must remember the notorious case of Captain Wilbur and the ship Speedwell" Nichols began "For years it was spoken of among sailors as a classic instance of nautical perfidy; and this was the port, you know, where Wilbur first brought the ship after he'd stolen her, and settled down to brazen out his crime. But few men have heard how he lost her in the end, or why he disappeared for ever from the life of the sea.

      "Perhaps I'd better refresh your memories; let's go back a matter of forty years. Captain Wilbur was a well-known shipmaster of those palmy days. He had commanded the Speedwell for a decade, and possessed a reputation for sterling seamanship and unblemished integrity. His vessel was one of the finest moderate clippers ever launched on the shores of New England. But she was growing old; and Wilbur himself had suffered serious financial reverses, although this fact wasn't known till after the escapade that estranged his friends and set our little world by the ears. He seems to have been something of a gambler in investments, and by bad judgment or ill luck had brought his fortune to the verge of ruin if not of actual disgrace. This, so far as I know, stands as the sole explanation of his amazing downfall. There was nothing else the matter with him, physically or mentally, as you shall hear.

      "Out of a clear sky, this was what he did: he deliberately put the Speedwell ashore in Ombay Pass, on a voyage home from Singapore to New York with a light general cargo, and abandoned her as she lay. I say he did it deliberately; this is the common surmise, and subsequent developments lend point to the accusation. It may have been, however, that she actually drifted ashore, and that he didn't try at the time to get her off. Whether he planned the disaster, or whether he succumbed to a temptation thrust in his face by the devil of chance, makes little difference. His plans were deliberate enough after the event.

      "Within a month after sailing for home, he was back again in Singapore with his ship's company in three longboats and a tale of a lost vessel. There he remained for three months, cleaning up the business. No breath of scandal was raised against him; Ombay Pass on the turn of the monsoon had caught many a fine vessel before this one, and the account rendered by his officers and crew was straightforward and consistent. The Speedwell, according to the official record, had drifted ashore in a light breeze, before the unmanageable currents of that region, and had lodged on a coral reef at the top of the tide in such a position that she couldn't be got off. It was another case of total loss of ship and cargo; in those days there were no steam craft in the East to send on a mission of salvage, and the Eastern Passages were forbidden hunting ground. What they caught they were allowed to keep, with no words said and the page closed. The insurance companies stood the strain, the ship's affairs were settled without a hitch, and the name of the Speedwell passed simultaneously from the Maritime Register and from the books of her owners in America. Captain Wilbur let it be known that he was going home, and left Singapore.

      "It was his remarkable destiny to be the revealer of his own perfidy; he made no bones about the job. Instead of going home, he went to Batavia, and there hired a schooner and crew with the proceeds of his personal holding in the Speedwell. This schooner and crew he took immediately to Ombay Pass. They found the ship still resting in the same position. What they did there must remain a mystery; I have the tale only in fragmentary form from the Lascar who was serang of Wilbur's native crew.

      "He, it would seem, was overawed by the extent of the engineering operations in which he participated; his description partook of the colour and extravagance of a myth. Alone in distant waters they had wrestled like heroes with a monstrous task; day had followed day, while the great ship remained motionless and the elements paused to observe the stupendous effort. They had unloaded the cargo: they had sent down the top-hamper and rafted it alongside; they had patched and pumped, and Wilbur himself had dived in the lower hold and under the bows to place the stoppers in their proper position. So far as I can reckon, it took them a couple of months to get her off; but, by Jove, they floated her—a magnificent feat of sailorizing. Then they loaded the cargo again, and came away.

      "When Captain Wilbur appeared one morning off Batavia roadstead with the Speedwell under top-gallantsails, towing the schooner, it was the sensation of the port; a sensation that flew like wildfire about the China Sea, as it became clear what he intended to do with her.