Two Years Before the Mast
about the bull; he had broken his bail, and taken himself off, and it
was too late to get another; so the people were obliged to put up with
a cock-fight. One of the bantams having been knocked in the head, and
had an eye put out, he gave in, and two monstrous prize-cocks were
brought on. These were the object of the whole affair; the two bantams
having been merely served up as a first course, to collect the people
together. Two fellows came into the ring holding the cocks in their
arms, and stroking them, and running about on all fours, encouraging
and setting them on. Bets ran high, and, like most other contests, it
remained for some time undecided. They both showed great pluck, and
fought probably better and longer than their masters would have done.
Whether, in the end, it was the white or the red that beat, I do not
recollect; but, whichever it was, he strutted off with the true
veni-vidi-vici look, leaving the other lying panting on his beam-ends.
This matter having been settled, we heard some talk about "caballos"
and "carrera" and seeing the people all streaming off in one direction,
we followed, and came upon a level piece of ground, just out of the
town, which was used as a race-course. Here the crowd soon became
thick again; the ground was marked off; the judges stationed; and the
horses led up to one end. Two fine-looking old gentlemen--Don Carlos
and Don Domingo, so called--held the stakes, and all was now ready. We
waited some time, during which we could just see the horses twisting
round and turning, until, at length, there was a shout along the lines,
and on they came--heads stretched out and eyes starting;--working all
over, both man and beast. The steeds came by us like a couple of
chain-shot--neck and neck; and now we could see nothing but their
backs, and their hind hoofs flying in the air. As fast as the horses
passed, the crowd broke up behind them, and ran to the goal. When we
got there, we found the horses returning on a slow walk, having run far
beyond the mark, and heard that the long, bony one had come in head and
shoulders before the other. The riders were light-built men; had
handkerchiefs tied round their heads; and were bare-armed and
bare-legged. The horses were noble-looking beasts, not so sleek and
combed as our Boston stable-horses, but with fine limbs, and spirited
eyes. After this had been settled, and fully talked over, the crowd
scattered again and flocked back to the town.
Returning to the large pulperia, we found the violin and guitar
screaming and twanging away under the piazza, where they had been all
day. As it was now sundown, there began to be some dancing. The
Italian sailors danced, and one of our crew exhibited himself in a sort
of West India shuffle, much to the amusement of the bystanders, who
cried out, "Bravo!" "Otra vez!" and "Vivan los marineros!" but the
dancing did not become general, as the women and the "gente de razón"
had not yet made their appearance. We wished very much to stay and see
the style of dancing; but, although we had had our own way during the
day, yet we were, after all, but 'foremast Jacks; and having been
ordered to be on the beach by sundown, did not venture to be more than
an hour behind the time; so we took our way down. We found the boat
just pulling ashore through the breakers, which were running high,
there having been a heavy fog outside, which, from some cause or other,
always brings on, or precedes a heavy sea. Liberty-men are privileged
from the time they leave the vessel until they step on board again; so
we took our places in the stern sheets, and were congratulating
ourselves upon getting off dry, when a great comber broke fore and aft
the boat, and wet us through and through, filling the boat half full of
water. Having lost her buoyancy by the weight of the water, she
dropped heavily into every sea that struck her, and by the time we had
pulled out of the surf into deep water, she was but just afloat, and we
were up to our knees. By the help of a small bucket and our hats, we
bailed her out, got on board, hoisted the boats, eat our supper,
changed our clothes, gave (as is usual) the whole history of our day's
adventures to those who had staid on board, and having taken a
night-smoke, turned-in. Thus ended our second day's liberty on shore.
On Monday morning, as an offset to our day's sport, we were all set to
work "tarring down" the rigging. Some got girt-lines up for riding
down the stays and back-stays, and others tarred the shrouds, lifts,
etc., laying out on the yards, and coming down the rigging. We
overhauled our bags and took out our old tarry trowsers and frocks,
which we had used when we tarred down before, and were all at work in
the rigging by sunrise. After breakfast, we had the satisfaction of
seeing the Italian ship's boat go ashore, filled with men, gaily
dressed, as on the day before, and singing their barcarollas. The
Easter holydays are kept up on shore during three days; and being a
Catholic vessel, the crew had the advantage of them. For two
successive days, while perched up in the rigging, covered with tar and
engaged in our disagreeable work, we saw these fellows going ashore in
the morning, and coming off again at night, in high spirits. So much
for being Protestants. There's no danger of Catholicism's spreading in
New England; Yankees can't afford the time to be Catholics. American
shipmasters get nearly three weeks more labor out of their crews, in
the course of a year, than the masters of vessels from Catholic
countries. Yankees don't keep Christmas, and ship-masters at sea never
know when Thanksgiving comes, so Jack has no festival at all.
About noon, a man aloft called out "Sail ho!" and looking round, we saw
the head sails of a vessel coming round the point. As she drew round,
she showed the broadside of a full-rigged brig, with the Yankee ensign
at her peak. We ran up our stars and stripes, and, knowing that there
was no American brig on the coast but ourselves, expected to have news
from home. She rounded-to and let go her anchor, but the dark faces on
her yards, when they furled the sails, and the Babel on deck, soon made
known that she was from the Islands. Immediately afterwards, a boat's
crew came aboard, bringing her skipper, and from them we learned that
she was from Oahu, and was engaged in the same trade with the Ayacucho,
Loriotte, etc., between the coast, the Sandwich Islands, and the
leeward coast of Peru and Chili. Her captain and officers were
Americans, and also a part of her crew; the rest were Islanders. She
was called the Catalina, and, like all the others vessels in that
trade, except the Ayacucho, her papers and colors were from Uncle Sam.
They, of course, brought us no news, and we were doubly disappointed,
for we had thought, at first, it might be the ship which we were
expecting from Boston.
After lying here about a fortnight, and collecting all the hides the
place afforded, we set sail again for San Pedro. There we found the
brig which we had assisted in getting off lying at anchor, with a mixed
crew of Americans, English, Sandwich Islanders, Spaniards, and Spanish
Indians; and, though much smaller than we, yet she had three times the
number of men; and she needed them, for her officers were Californians.
No vessels in the world go so poorly manned as American and English;
and none do so well. A Yankee brig of that size would have had a crew
of four men, and would have worked round and round her. The Italian
ship had a crew of thirty men; nearly three times as many as the Alert,
which was afterwards on the coast, and was of the same size; yet the
Alert would get under weigh and come-to in half the time, and get two
anchors, while they were all talking at once--jabbering like a parcel
of "Yahoos," and running about decks to find their cat-block.
There was only one point in which they had the advantage over us, and
that was in lightening their labors in the boats by their songs. The
Americans are a time and money saving people, but have not yet, as a
nation, learned that music may be "turned to account." We pulled the
long distances to and from the shore, with our loaded boats, without a
word spoken, and with discontented looks, while they not only lightened
the labor of rowing, but actually made it pleasant and cheerful, by
their music. So true is it, that--
"For the tired slave, song lifts the languid oar,
And bids it aptly fall, with chime
That beautifies the fairest shore,
And mitigates the harshest clime."
We lay about a week in San Pedro, and got under weigh for San Diego,
intending to stop at San Juan, as the south-easter season was nearly
over, and there was little or no danger.
This being the spring season, San Pedro, as well as all the other open
ports upon the coast, was filled with whales, that had come in to make
their annual visit upon soundings. For the first few days that we were
here and at Santa Barbara, we watched them with great interest--calling
out "there she blows!" every time we saw the spout of one breaking the
surface of the water; but they soon became so common that we took
little notice of them. They often "broke" very near us; and one thick,
foggy night, during a dead calm, while I was standing anchor-watch, one
of them rose so near, that he struck our cable, and made all surge
again. He did not seem to like the encounter much himself, for he
sheered off, and spouted at a good distance. We once came very near
running one down in the gig, and should probably have been knocked to
pieces and blown sky-high. We had been on board the little Spanish
brig, and were returning, stretching out well at our oars, the little
boat going like a swallow; our backs were forward, (as is always the
case in pulling,) and the captain, who was steering, was not looking
ahead, when, all at once, we heard the spout of a whale directly ahead.
"Back water! back water, for your lives!" shouted the captain; and we
backed our blades in the water and brought the boat to in a smother of
foam. Turning our heads, we saw a great, rough, hump-backed whale,
slowly crossing our fore foot, within three or four yards of the boat's
stem. Had we not backed water just as we did, we should inevitably
have gone smash upon him, striking him with our stem just about
amidships. He took no notice of us, but passed slowly on, and dived a
few yards beyond us, throwing his tail high in the air. He was so near
that we had a perfect view of him and as may be supposed, had no desire
to see him nearer. He was a disgusting creature; with a skin rough,
hairy, and of an iron-grey color. This kind differs much from the
sperm, in color and skin, and is said to be fiercer. We saw a few
sperm whales; but most of the whales that come upon the coast are
fin-backs, hump-backs, and right-whales, which are more difficult to
take, and are said not to give oil enough to pay for the trouble. For
this reason whale-ships do not come upon the coast after them. Our
captain, together with Captain Nye of the Loriotte, who had been in a
whale-ship, thought of making an attempt upon one of them with two
boats' crews, but as we had only two harpoons and no proper lines, they
gave it up.
During the months of March, April, and May, these whales appear in
great numbers in the open ports of Santa Barbara, San Pedro, etc., and
hover off the coast, while a few find their way into the close harbors
of San Diego and Monterey. They are all off again before midsummer,
and make their appearance on the "off-shore ground." We saw some fine
"schools" of sperm whales, which are easily distinguished by their
spout, blowing away, a few miles to windward, on our passage to San
Juan.