BOOKS.
ROUND THE HORN.* MM. LUBBOCK has written a spirited account of a spirited adventure. He can boast neither literary style nor literary experience, but his book is none the worse—even rather better—for that. A plain style best suits a plain story, and Mr. Lubbock has a natural artlessness which a man of letters could only attain by an elaborate artifice. The result is a vivid narrative, in which you ma. hear the thunder of the waves and the creaking of the timbers, and through which blows the salt wind of the sea.
In July, 1899, Mr. Lubbock signed on before the mast on the barque Royalshire.' To him this was not the beginning but the end of adventure. He had come down from Klondyke to San Francisco, and there it was that he started his life as a foremast Jack, without any more knowledge of the sea than the average traveller possesses. He knew enough, however, as he says, "not to ship before the matt on a ship with ' down-east ' or blue-nose ' mates, who, though they are the finest seamen in the world, are terrible drivers,' and are a bit too free with belaying-pins, knuckle-dusters, and six-shooters to please me,—the 'gun-play' on board some down-easters ' being almost worthy. of an Arizona mining-camp." Like all amateurs, Mr. Lubbock takes nothing for granted, and he notes the many small incidents of a seafaring life which would escape the notice of a sailor born and bred. His comrades are new and strange to him, though they are probably all within the common experience of sailors, and he sketches them with a delightful freshness. The captain, or "old man," is irascible at all times, and the first and second mates take it in turn to bear the scourges of his tongue. The second mate is as violent in speech as the "old man" himself, and quick to resent the discipline of his superior. Then there is a fantastic Swede, Johnsen by name, who, afflicted by the mania of persecution, believes that every one on board has his hand against him, until at last he attempts to stab the second mate, and is most righteously thrashed for his pains. The crew, in fact, is of "all sizes, shapes, and kinds." At Mr. Lubbock's bar of the capstan there is "a Swiss naturalised American, one of the hardest workers in the ship, who, though he had been at sea all his life in sailing-ships and steamers, yet could not steer, and certainly was hardly qualified for A.B.'s work." Next to him "is a little Arab, who, in light dungarees, dark- blue shirt, and red tam-o'-shanter, made a picturesque figure with his brown legs, and face of bright copper." But he, though he shipped as A.B., turned out a lazy little coward. Then there is the English adventurer called Don, a public- school man like Mr. Lubbock himself, who is ready for the last emergency, and who faces the most desperate danger with equanimity. So the author records the petty incidents of every day, alter the manner of the old travellers, not forgetting the arguments in the fo'c's'le, nor the constant squabbles between the captain and his crew. "This petty rowing between old man and mates," he says, "is pretty general in windjammers, and is chiefly caused by the old men getting livers on them by not getting enough exercise; this added to anxiety, worry, • Rotaid tie Horn Beier. the Mast. By A: Basil Lubbock. London: John Murray. [8s.]
and excitable dispositions is quite enough to account for the extraordinary exhibitions of childish temper to which sea. captains so often give way." But, indeed, the anxiety of rounding the Horn is enough to account for anything, and it says much for Mr. Lubbock's courage and good temper that he came through the ordeal unscathed.
It is when he encounters the roughest weather that his narrative is best, and no hardship appears great enough to perturb his spirit. "Notwithstanding the cold, the discom- fort, the wet, the man-killing work in the pitch darkness, and the washing about the decks," he writes off the Horn, "I thoroughly enjoy it all. One is stirred up by the danger; one works like a fury, whether up aloft getting in sail or on deck up to your middle in water, occasionally even hanging on for dear life until you think your lungs will burst, so long is the water in clearing off." The dangers and discomforts, indeed, are neither few nor small. Now his friend Don, an expert swimmer, is nearly drowned ; now he himself is washed over- board, and only saved by clinging to the rope in his hand. Now the ship is pooped, now they fear she will turn turtle ; and through it all, drenched and frozen, Mr. Lubbock is as happy as can be. "I rather enjoyed the fun myself," he says in his boyish fashion, "it was so stupendous, so magnificent, so terrific." The best passage in the book describes a heavy sea which nearly sank the ship, and will give a better impres- sion of the book than any comment :— " 'Great snakes, here comes a sea!' cried Loring, all of a sudden. I gave one look astern, and there, towering high above us, was a huge monster, roaring and hissing as it curled its top ; it looked as if it must break full on to the poop, and was a sight to strike terror into the stoutest heart. Would she rise to it, or was this our last moment on earth ? Hang on for your lives !' roared the second mate. Up, up, up went the Royalshire, good old ship, she was going to top it after all ; but though she did her best, the heavy weight aft held her down, and she did not quite get there. With a deafening thud, the top of the monster curled into boiling surf and fell upon us, overwhelming the helms- man, who clung desperately to the wheel, and dipping us to the waist as we hung in the weather jigger rigging. In a roaring torrent it poured across the poop, and then, like an earthquake wave, fell aboard the whole length of the port-rail. Such a height was it that it toppled over in a terrible breaker upon the top of the midship-house ; the gig's side and bottom fell out as if hit by a thunderbolt, the lamp-locker door was smashed down, and all the lamps washed out, and it filled the main-dock high above the hatches until the water was on a level with the poop."
But the Royalshire ' came bravely through the storm, and Mr. Lubbock describes all his trials with the enthusiastic humour of one who endured them for fun.
And when the wind blew and the sea ran high the sailors amused themselves with chanties, of which an excellent selection is to be found in Mr. Lubbock's book. In the worst weather they sang "Away for Rio," which is the author's favourite:— " Oh, the anchor is weigh'd, and the sails they are set, Away, Rio!
The maids that we're leaving we'll never forget, For we're bound for Rio Grande, And away, Rio ! aye Rio !
Sing fare-ye-well, my bonny young girl, We're bound for Rio Grande!"
So, too, he gives us snatches of "Oh, Shenandoah, I love your daughter," of " Stormie's Gone," and of many another. And when at Christmas-time they came to Birkenhead, they said good-bye to the Royalshire ' singing "Leave her, Johnnie": "I thought I heard the skipper say, Leave her, Johnnie, leave her ! To-morrow you will get your pay. It's time for us to leave her."
The first news they heard on returning home was the triumpi of ' Columbia ' for the America Cup ; then for the first time they knew that Britain was at war ; and Mr. Lubbock set off again—for South Africa. So we take leave of a. very pleasant book, which is, as we have said, all of the open sea, high spirits, and fierce storms.
Previous page
