Two Years Before the Mast
his sides; and may almost be said to keep on him until they have grown
to him. The stirrups are covered or boxed up in front, to prevent
their catching when riding through the woods; and the saddles are large
and heavy, strapped very tight upon the horse, and have large pommels,
or loggerheads, in front, round which the "lasso" is coiled when not in
use. They can hardly go from one house to another without getting on a
horse, there being generally several standing tied to the door-posts of
the little cottages. When they wish to show their activity, they make
no use of their stirrups in mounting, but striking the horse, spring
into the saddle as he starts, and sticking their long spurs into him,
go off on the full run. Their spurs are cruel things, having four or
five rowels, each an inch in length, dull and rusty. The flanks of the
horses are often sore from them, and I have seen men come in from
chasing bullocks with their horses' hind legs and quarters covered with
blood. They frequently give exhibitions of their horsemanship, in
races, bull-baitings, etc.; but as we were not ashore during any
holyday, we saw nothing of it. Monterey is also a great place for
cock-fighting, gambling of all sorts, fandangos, and every kind of
amusement and knavery. Trappers and hunters, who occasionally arrive
here from over the Rocky mountains, with their valuable skins and furs,
are often entertained with every sort of amusement and dissipation,
until they have wasted their time and their money, and go back,
stripped of everything.
Nothing but the character of the people prevents Monterey from becoming
a great town. The soil is as rich as man could wish; climate as good
as any in the world; water abundant, and situation extremely beautiful.
The harbor, too, is a good one, being subject only to one bad wind, the
north; and though the holding-ground is not the best, yet I heard of
but one vessel's being driven ashore here. That was a Mexican brig,
which went ashore a few months before our arrival, and was a total
wreck, all the crew but one being drowned. Yet this was from the
carelessness or ignorance of the captain, who paid out all his small
cable before he let go his other anchor. The ship Lagoda, of Boston,
was there at the time, and rode out the gale in safety, without
dragging at all, or finding it necessary to strike her top-gallant
masts.
The only vessel in port with us was the little Loriotte. I frequently
went on board her, and became very well acquainted with her Sandwich
Island crew. One of them could speak a little English, and from him I
learned a good deal about them. They were well formed and active, with
black eyes, intelligent countenances, dark-olive, or, I should rather
say, copper complexions and coarse black hair, but not woolly like the
negroes. They appeared to be talking continually. In the forecastle
there was a complete Babel. Their language is extremely guttural, and
not pleasant at first, but improves as you hear it more, and is said to
have great capacity. They use a good deal of gesticulation, and are
exceedingly animated, saying with their might what their tongues find
to say. They are complete water-dogs, therefore very good in boating.
It is for this reason that there are so many of them on the coast of
California; they being very good hands in the surf. They are also
quick and active in the rigging, and good hands in warm weather; but
those who have been with them round Cape Horn, and in high latitudes,
say that they are useless in cold weather. In their dress they are
precisely like our sailors. In addition to these Islanders, the vessel
had two English sailors, who acted as boatswains over the Islanders,
and took care of the rigging. One of them I shall always remember as
the best specimen of the thoroughbred English sailor that I ever saw.
He had been to sea from a boy, having served a regular apprenticeship
of seven years, as all English sailors are obliged to do, and was then
about four or five and twenty. He was tall; but you only perceived it
when he was standing by the side of others, for the great breadth of
his shoulders and chest made him appear but little above the middle
height. His chest was as deep as it was wide; his arm like that of
Hercules; and his hand "the fist of a tar--every hair a rope-yarn."
With all this he had one of the pleasantest smiles I ever saw. His
cheeks were of a handsome brown; his teeth brilliantly white; and his
hair, of a raven black, waved in loose curls all over his head, and
fine, open forehead; and his eyes he might have sold to a duchess at
the price of diamonds, for their brilliancy. As for their color, they
were like the Irishman's pig, which would not stay to be counted, every
change of position and light seemed to give them a new hue; but their
prevailing color was black, or nearly so. Take him with his
well-varnished black tarpaulin stuck upon the back of his head; his
long locks coming down almost into his eyes; his white duck trowsers
and shirt; blue jacket; and black kerchief, tied loosely round his
neck; and he was a fine specimen of manly beauty. On his broad chest
he had stamped with India ink "Parting moments;"--a ship ready to sail;
a boat on the beach; and a girl and her sailor lover taking their
farewell. Underneath were printed the initials of his own name, and two
other letters, standing for some name which he knew better than I did.
This was very well done, having been executed by a man who made it his
business to print with India ink, for sailors, at Havre. On one of his
broad arms, he had the crucifixion, and on the other the sign of the
"foul anchor."
He was very fond of reading, and we lent him most of the books which we
had in the forecastle, which he read and returned to us the next time
we fell in with him. He had a good deal of information, and his
captain said he was a perfect seaman, and worth his weight in gold on
board a vessel, in fair weather and in foul. His strength must have
been great, and he had the sight of a vulture. It is strange that one
should be so minute in the description of an unknown, outcast sailor,
whom one may never see again, and whom no one may care to hear about;
but so it is. Some people we see under no remarkable circumstances, but
whom, for some reason or other, we never forget. He called himself
Bill Jackson; and I know no one of all my accidental acquaintances to
whom I would more gladly give a shake of the hand than to him. Whoever
falls in with him will find a handsome, hearty fellow, and a good
shipmate.
Sunday came again while we were at Monterey, but as before, it brought
us no holyday. The people on shore dressed themselves and came off in
greater numbers than ever, and we were employed all day in boating and
breaking out cargo, so that we had hardly time to eat. Our cidevant
second mate, who was determined to get liberty if it was to be had,
dressed himself in a long coat and black hat, and polished his shoes,
and went aft and asked to go ashore. He could not have done a more
imprudent thing; for he knew that no liberty would be given; and
besides, sailors, however sure they may be of having liberty granted
them always go aft in their working clothes, to appear as though they
had no reason to expect anything, and then wash, dress, and shave,
after they get their liberty. But this poor fellow was always getting
into hot water, and if there was a wrong way of doing a thing, was sure
to hit upon it. We looked to see him go aft, knowing pretty well what
his reception would be. The captain was walking the quarter-deck,
smoking his morning cigar, and F---- went as far as the break of the
deck, and there waited for him to notice him. The captain took two or
three turns, and then walking directly up to him, surveyed him from
head to foot, and lifting up his forefinger, said a word or two, in a
tone too low for us to hear, but which had a magical effect upon poor
F----. He walked forward, sprang into the forecastle, and in a moment
more made his appearance in his common clothes, and went quietly to
work again. What the captain said to him, we never could get him to
tell, but it certainly changed him outwardly and inwardly in a most
surprising manner.
CHAPTER XIV
SANTA BARBARA--HIDE-DROGHING--HARBOR DUTIES--DISCONTENT--SAN PEDRO
After a few days, finding the trade beginning to slacken, we hove our
anchor up, set our topsails, ran the stars and stripes up to the peak,
fired a gun, which was returned from the Presidio, and left the little
town astern, running out of the bay, and bearing down the coast again,
for Santa Barbara. As we were now going to leeward, we had a fair wind
and a plenty of it. After doubling Point Pinos, we bore up, set
studding-sails alow and aloft, and were walking off at the rate of
eight or nine knots, promising to traverse in twenty-four hours the
distance which we were nearly three weeks in traversing on the passage
up. We passed Point Conception at a flying rate, the wind blowing so
that it would have seemed half a gale to us, if we had been going the
other way and close hauled. As we drew near the islands off Santa
Barbara, it died away a little but we came-to at our old
anchoring-ground in less than thirty hours from the time of leaving
Monterey.
Here everything was pretty much as we left it--the large bay without a
vessel in it; the surf roaring and rolling in upon the beach; the white
mission; the dark town and the high, treeless mountains. Here, too, we
had our south-easter tacks aboard again,--slip-ropes, buoy-ropes, sails
furled with reefs in them, and rope-yarns for gaskets. We lay here
about a fortnight, employed in landing goods and taking off hides,
occasionally, when the surf was not high; but there did not appear to
be one-half the business doing here that there was in Monterey. In
fact, so far as we were concerned, the town might almost as well have
been in the middle of the Cordilleras. We lay at a distance of three
miles from the beach, and the town was nearly a mile farther; so that
we saw little or nothing of it. Occasionally we landed a few goods,
which were taken away by Indians in large, clumsy ox-carts, with the
yoke on the ox's neck instead of under it, and with small solid wheels.
A few hides were brought down, which we carried off in the California
style. This we had now got pretty well accustomed to; and hardened to
also; for it does require a little hardening even to the toughest.
The hides are always brought down dry, or they would not be received.
When they are taken from the animal, they have holes cut in the ends,
and are staked out, and thus dried in the sun without shrinking. They
are then doubled once, lengthwise, with the hair side usually in, and
sent down, upon mules or in carts, and piled above highwater mark; and
then we rake them upon our heads, one at a time, or two, if they are
small, and wade out with them and throw them into the boat, which as
there are no wharves, we are usually kept anchored by a small kedge, or
keelek, just outside of the surf. We all provided ourselves with thick
Scotch caps, which would be soft to the head, and at the same time
protect it; for we soon found that however it might look or feel at
first the "head-work" was the only system for California. For besides
that the seas, breaking high, often obliged us to carry the hides so,
in order to keep them dry, we found that, as they were very large and
heavy, and nearly as stiff as boards, it was the only way that we could
carry them with any convenience to ourselves. Some of the crew tried
other expedients, saying that they looked too much like West India
negroes; but they all came to it at last. The great art is in getting