the mirror of the sea-第18章

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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；　terribl