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big ship would not have understood very well。  His answer would



have been a gruff; 〃Give me size;〃 as I heard another man reply to



a remark praising the handiness of a small vessel。  It was not a



love of the grandiose or the prestige attached to the command of



great tonnage; for he continued; with an air of disgust and



contempt; 〃Why; you get flung out of your bunk as likely as not in



any sort of heavy weather。〃







I don't know。  I remember a few nights in my lifetime; and in a big



ship; too (as big as they made them then); when one did not get



flung out of one's bed simply because one never even attempted to



get in; one had been made too weary; too hopeless; to try。  The



expedient of turning your bedding out on to a damp floor and lying



on it there was no earthly good; since you could not keep your



place or get a second's rest in that or any other position。  But of



the delight of seeing a small craft run bravely amongst the great



seas there can be no question to him whose soul does not dwell



ashore。  Thus I well remember a three days' run got out of a little



barque of 400 tons somewhere between the islands of St。 Paul and



Amsterdam and Cape Otway on the Australian coast。  It was a hard;



long gale; gray clouds and green sea; heavy weather undoubtedly;



but still what a sailor would call manageable。  Under two lower



topsails and a reefed foresail the barque seemed to race with a



long; steady sea that did not becalm her in the troughs。  The



solemn thundering combers caught her up from astern; passed her



with a fierce boiling up of foam level with the bulwarks; swept on



ahead with a swish and a roar:  and the little vessel; dipping her



jib…boom into the tumbling froth; would go on running in a smooth;



glassy hollow; a deep valley between two ridges of the sea; hiding



the horizon ahead and astern。  There was such fascination in her



pluck; nimbleness; the continual exhibition of unfailing



seaworthiness; in the semblance of courage and endurance; that I



could not give up the delight of watching her run through the three



unforgettable days of that gale which my mate also delighted to



extol as 〃a famous shove。〃







And this is one of those gales whose memory in after…years returns;



welcome in dignified austerity; as you would remember with pleasure



the noble features of a stranger with whom you crossed swords once



in knightly encounter and are never to see again。  In this way



gales have their physiognomy。  You remember them by your own



feelings; and no two gales stamp themselves in the same way upon



your emotions。  Some cling to you in woebegone misery; others come



back fiercely and weirdly; like ghouls bent upon sucking your



strength away; others; again; have a catastrophic splendour; some



are unvenerated recollections; as of spiteful wild…cats clawing at



your agonized vitals; others are severe; like a visitation; and one



or two rise up draped and mysterious; with an aspect of ominous



menace。  In each of them there is a characteristic point at which



the whole feeling seems contained in one single moment。  Thus there



is a certain four o'clock in the morning in the confused roar of a



black and white world when coming on deck to take charge of my



watch I received the instantaneous impression that the ship could



not live for another hour in such a raging sea。







I wonder what became of the men who silently (you couldn't hear



yourself speak) must have shared that conviction with me。  To be



left to write about it is not; perhaps; the most enviable fate; but



the point is that this impression resumes in its intensity the



whole recollection of days and days of desperately dangerous



weather。  We were then; for reasons which it is not worth while to



specify; in the close neighbourhood of Kerguelen Land; and now;



when I open an atlas and look at the tiny dots on the map of the



Southern Ocean; I see as if engraved upon the paper the enraged



physiognomy of that gale。







Another; strangely; recalls a silent man。  And yet it was not din



that was wanting; in fact; it was terrific。  That one was a gale



that came upon the ship swiftly; like a parnpero; which last is a



very sudden wind indeed。  Before we knew very well what was coming



all the sails we had set had burst; the furled ones were blowing



loose; ropes flying; sea hissing … it hissed tremendously … wind



howling; and the ship lying on her side; so that half of the crew



were swimming and the other half clawing desperately at whatever



came to hand; according to the side of the deck each man had been



caught on by the catastrophe; either to leeward or to windward。



The shouting I need not mention … it was the merest drop in an



ocean of noise … and yet the character of the gale seems contained



in the recollection of one small; not particularly impressive;



sallow man without a cap and with a very still face。  Captain Jones



… let us call him Jones … had been caught unawares。  Two orders he



had given at the first sign of an utterly unforeseen onset; after



that the magnitude of his mistake seemed to have overwhelmed him。



We were doing what was needed and feasible。  The ship behaved well。



Of course; it was some time before we could pause in our fierce and



laborious exertions; but all through the work; the excitement; the



uproar; and some dismay; we were aware of this silent little man at



the break of the poop; perfectly motionless; soundless; and often



hidden from us by the drift of sprays。







When we officers clambered at last upon the poop; he seemed to come



out of that numbed composure; and shouted to us down wind:  〃Try



the pumps。〃  Afterwards he disappeared。  As to the ship; I need not



say that; although she was presently swallowed up in one of the



blackest nights I can remember; she did not disappear。  In truth; I



don't fancy that there had ever been much danger of that; but



certainly the experience was noisy and particularly distracting …



and yet it is the memory of a very quiet silence that survives。















XXIV。















For; after all; a gale of wind; the thing of mighty sound; is



inarticulate。  It is man who; in a chance phrase; interprets the



elemental passion of his enemy。  Thus there is another gale in my



memory; a thing of endless; deep; humming roar; moonlight; and a



spoken sentence。







It was off that other cape which is always deprived of its title as



the Cape of Good Hope is robbed of its name。  It was off the Horn。



For a true expression of dishevelled wildness there is nothing like



a gale in the bright moonlight of a high latitude。







The ship; brought…to and bowing to enormous flashing seas;



glistened wet from deck to trucks; her one set sail stood out a



coal…black shape upon the gloomy blueness of the air。  I was a



youngster then; and suffering from weariness; cold; and imperfect



oilskins which let water in at every seam。  I craved human



companionship; and; coming off the poop; took my place by the side



of the boatswain (a man whom I did not like) in a comparatively dry



spot where at worst we had water only up to our knees。  Above our



heads the explosive booming gusts of wind passed continuously;



justifying the sailor's saying 〃It blows great guns。〃  And just



from that need of human companionship; being very close to the man;



I said; or rather shouted:







〃Blows very hard; boatswain。〃







His answer was:







〃Ay; and if it blows only a little harder things will begin to go。



I don't mind as long as everything holds; but when things begin to



go it's bad。〃







The note of dread in the shouting voice; the practical truth of



these words; heard years ago from a man I did not like; have



stamped its peculiar character on that gale。







A look in the eyes of a shipmate; a low murmur in the most



sheltered spot where the watch on duty are huddled together; a



meaning moan from one to the other with a glance at the windward



sky; a sigh of weariness; a gesture of disgust passing into the



keeping of the great wind; become part and parcel of the gale。  The



olive hue of hurricane clouds presents an aspect peculiarly



appalling。  The inky ragged wrack; flying before a nor'…west wind;



makes you dizzy with its headlong speed that depicts the rush of



the invisible air。  A hard sou'…wester startles you with its close



horizon and its low gray sky; as if the world were a dungeon



wherein there is no rest for body or soul。  And there are black



squalls; white squalls; thunder squalls; and unexpected gusts that



come without a single sign in the sky; and of each kind no one of



them resembles another。







There is infinite variety in the gales of wind at sea; and except



for the peculiar; terrible

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