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had left the Southern Ocean tumbling heavily upon our ship; under a



sky hung with rags of clouds that seemed to have been cut and



hacked by the keen edge of a sou'…west gale。







Our craft; a Clyde…built barque of 1;000 tons; rolled so heavily



that something aloft had carried away。  No matter what the damage



was; but it was serious enough to induce me to go aloft myself with



a couple of hands and the carpenter to see the temporary repairs



properly done。







Sometimes we had to drop everything and cling with both hands to



the swaying spars; holding our breath in fear of a terribly heavy



roll。  And; wallowing as if she meant to turn over with us; the



barque; her decks full of water; her gear flying in bights; ran at



some ten knots an hour。  We had been driven far south … much



farther that way than we had meant to go; and suddenly; up there in



the slings of the foreyard; in the midst of our work; I felt my



shoulder gripped with such force in the carpenter's powerful paw



that I positively yelled with unexpected pain。  The man's eyes



stared close in my face; and he shouted; 〃Look; sir! look!  What's



this?〃 pointing ahead with his other hand。







At first I saw nothing。  The sea was one empty wilderness of black



and white hills。  Suddenly; half…concealed in the tumult of the



foaming rollers I made out awash; something enormous; rising and



falling … something spread out like a burst of foam; but with a



more bluish; more solid look。







It was a piece of an ice…floe melted down to a fragment; but still



big enough to sink a ship; and floating lower than any raft; right



in our way; as if ambushed among the waves with murderous intent。



There was no time to get down on deck。  I shouted from aloft till



my head was ready to split。  I was heard aft; and we managed to



clear the sunken floe which had come all the way from the Southern



ice…cap to have a try at our unsuspecting lives。  Had it been an



hour later; nothing could have saved the ship; for no eye could



have made out in the dusk that pale piece of ice swept over by the



white…crested waves。







And as we stood near the taffrail side by side; my captain and I;



looking at it; hardly discernible already; but still quite close…to



on our quarter; he remarked in a meditative tone:







〃But for the turn of that wheel just in time; there would have been



another case of a 'missing' ship。〃







Nobody ever comes back from a 〃missing〃 ship to tell how hard was



the death of the craft; and how sudden and overwhelming the last



anguish of her men。  Nobody can say with what thoughts; with what



regrets; with what words on their lips they died。  But there is



something fine in the sudden passing away of these hearts from the



extremity of struggle and stress and tremendous uproar … from the



vast; unrestful rage of the surface to the profound peace of the



depths; sleeping untroubled since the beginning of ages。















XVIII。















But if the word 〃missing〃 brings all hope to an end and settles the



loss of the underwriters; the word 〃overdue〃 confirms the fears



already born in many homes ashore; and opens the door of



speculation in the market of risks。







Maritime risks; be it understood。  There is a class of optimists



ready to reinsure an 〃overdue〃 ship at a heavy premium。  But



nothing can insure the hearts on shore against the bitterness of



waiting for the worst。







For if a 〃missing〃 ship has never turned up within the memory of



seamen of my generation; the name of an 〃overdue〃 ship; trembling



as it were on the edge of the fatal heading; has been known to



appear as 〃arrived。〃







It must blaze up; indeed; with a great brilliance the dull



printer's ink expended on the assemblage of the few letters that



form the ship's name to the anxious eyes scanning the page in fear



and trembling。  It is like the message of reprieve from the



sentence of sorrow suspended over many a home; even if some of the



men in her have been the most homeless mortals that you may find



among the wanderers of the sea。







The reinsurer; the optimist of ill…luck and disaster; slaps his



pocket with satisfaction。  The underwriter; who had been trying to



minimize the amount of impending loss; regrets his premature



pessimism。  The ship has been stauncher; the skies more merciful;



the seas less angry; or perhaps the men on board of a finer temper



than he has been willing to take for granted。







〃The ship So…and…so; bound to such a port; and posted as 'overdue;'



has been reported yesterday as having arrived safely at her



destination。〃







Thus run the official words of the reprieve addressed to the hearts



ashore lying under a heavy sentence。  And they come swiftly from



the other side of the earth; over wires and cables; for your



electric telegraph is a great alleviator of anxiety。  Details; of



course; shall follow。  And they may unfold a tale of narrow escape;



of steady ill…luck; of high winds and heavy weather; of ice; of



interminable calms or endless head…gales; a tale of difficulties



overcome; of adversity defied by a small knot of men upon the great



loneliness of the sea; a tale of resource; of courage … of



helplessness; perhaps。







Of all ships disabled at sea; a steamer who has lost her propeller



is the most helpless。  And if she drifts into an unpopulated part



of the ocean she may soon become overdue。  The menace of the



〃overdue〃 and the finality of 〃missing〃 come very quickly to



steamers whose life; fed on coals and breathing the black breath of



smoke into the air; goes on in disregard of wind and wave。  Such a



one; a big steamship; too; whose working life had been a record of



faithful keeping time from land to land; in disregard of wind and



sea; once lost her propeller down south; on her passage out to New



Zealand。







It was the wintry; murky time of cold gales and heavy seas。  With



the snapping of her tail…shaft her life seemed suddenly to depart



from her big body; and from a stubborn; arrogant existence she



passed all at once into the passive state of a drifting log。  A



ship sick with her own weakness has not the pathos of a ship



vanquished in a battle with the elements; wherein consists the



inner drama of her life。  No seaman can look without compassion



upon a disabled ship; but to look at a sailing…vessel with her



lofty spars gone is to look upon a defeated but indomitable



warrior。  There is defiance in the remaining stumps of her masts;



raised up like maimed limbs against the menacing scowl of a stormy



sky; there is high courage in the upward sweep of her lines towards



the bow; and as soon as; on a hastily…rigged spar; a strip of



canvas is shown to the wind to keep her head to sea; she faces the



waves again with an unsubdued courage。















XIX。















The efficiency of a steamship consists not so much in her courage



as in the power she carries within herself。  It beats and throbs



like a pulsating heart within her iron ribs; and when it stops; the



steamer; whose life is not so much a contest as the disdainful



ignoring of the sea; sickens and dies upon the waves。  The sailing…



ship; with her unthrobbing body; seemed to lead mysteriously a sort



of unearthly existence; bordering upon the magic of the invisible



forces; sustained by the inspiration of life…giving and death…



dealing winds。







So that big steamer; dying by a sudden stroke; drifted; an unwieldy



corpse; away from the track of other ships。  And she would have



been posted really as 〃overdue;〃 or maybe as 〃missing;〃 had she not



been sighted in a snowstorm; vaguely; like a strange rolling



island; by a whaler going north from her Polar cruising ground。



There was plenty of food on board; and I don't know whether the



nerves of her passengers were at all affected by anything else than



the sense of interminable boredom or the vague fear of that unusual



situation。  Does a passenger ever feel the life of the ship in



which he is being carried like a sort of honoured bale of highly



sensitive goods?  For a man who has never been a passenger it is



impossible to say。  But I know that there is no harder trial for a



seaman than to feel a dead ship under his feet。







There is no mistaking that sensation; so dismal; so tormenting and



so subtle; so full of unhappiness and unrest。  I could imagine no



worse eternal punishment for evil seamen who die unrepentant upon



the earthly sea than that their souls should be condemned to man



the ghosts of disabled ships; drifting for ever across a ghostly



and tempestuous ocean。







She must have looked ghostly enough; that broken…down steamer;



rolling in that snowstorm … a dark apparition

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