the mirror of the sea- 第9部分

had　tried　to　their　utmost　in　many　a　spell　of　boisterous　weather。



He　had　shown　me　what　carrying　on　meant；　but　he　was　not　a　man　to



learn　discretion　from。　　He　could　not　help　his　deafness。　　One　can



only　remember　his　cheery　temper；　his　admiration　for　the　jokes　in



PUNCH；　his　little　oddities　…　like　his　strange　passion　for　borrowing



looking…glasses；　for　instance。　　Each　of　our　cabins　had　its　own



looking…glass　screwed　to　the　bulkhead；　and　what　he　wanted　with　more



of　them　we　never　could　fathom。　　He　asked　for　the　loan　in



confidential　tones。　　Why？　　Mystery。　　We　made　various　surmises。　　No



one　will　ever　know　now。　　At　any　rate；　it　was　a　harmless



eccentricity；　and　may　the　god　of　gales；　who　took　him　away　so



abruptly　between　New　Zealand　and　the　Horn；　let　his　soul　rest　in



some　Paradise　of　true　seamen；　where　no　amount　of　carrying　on　will



ever　dismast　a　ship！















XIII。















There　has　been　a　time　when　a　ship's　chief　mate；　pocket…book　in　hand



and　pencil　behind　his　ear；　kept　one　eye　aloft　upon　his　riggers　and



the　other　down　the　hatchway　on　the　stevedores；　and　watched　the



disposition　of　his　ship's　cargo；　knowing　that　even　before　she



started　he　was　already　doing　his　best　to　secure　for　her　an　easy　and



quick　passage。







The　hurry　of　the　times；　the　loading　and　discharging　organization　of



the　docks；　the　use　of　hoisting　machinery　which　works　quickly　and



will　not　wait；　the　cry　for　prompt　despatch；　the　very　size　of　his



ship；　stand　nowadays　between　the　modern　seaman　and　the　thorough



knowledge　of　his　craft。







There　are　profitable　ships　and　unprofitable　ships。　　The　profitable



ship　will　carry　a　large　load　through　all　the　hazards　of　the



weather；　and；　when　at　rest；　will　stand　up　in　dock　and　shift　from



berth　to　berth　without　ballast。　　There　is　a　point　of　perfection　in



a　ship　as　a　worker　when　she　is　spoken　of　as　being　able　to　SAIL



without　ballast。　　I　have　never　met　that　sort　of　paragon　myself；　but



I　have　seen　these　paragons　advertised　amongst　ships　for　sale。　　Such



excess　of　virtue　and　good…nature　on　the　part　of　a　ship　always



provoked　my　mistrust。　　It　is　open　to　any　man　to　say　that　his　ship



will　sail　without　ballast；　and　he　will　say　it；　too；　with　every　mark



of　profound　conviction；　especially　if　he　is　not　going　to　sail　in



her　himself。　　The　risk　of　advertising　her　as　able　to　sail　without



ballast　is　not　great；　since　the　statement　does　not　imply　a　warranty



of　her　arriving　anywhere。　　Moreover；　it　is　strictly　true　that　most



ships　will　sail　without　ballast　for　some　little　time　before　they



turn　turtle　upon　the　crew。







A　shipowner　loves　a　profitable　ship；　the　seaman　is　proud　of　her；　a



doubt　of　her　good　looks　seldom　exists　in　his　mind；　but　if　he　can



boast　of　her　more　useful　qualities　it　is　an　added　satisfaction　for



his　self…love。







The　loading　of　ships　was　once　a　matter　of　skill；　judgment；　and



knowledge。　　Thick　books　have　been　written　about　it。　　〃Stevens　on



Stowage〃　is　a　portly　volume　with　the　renown　and　weight　（in　its　own



world）　of　Coke　on　Littleton。　　Stevens　is　an　agreeable　writer；　and；



as　is　the　case　with　men　of　talent；　his　gifts　adorn　his　sterling



soundness。　　He　gives　you　the　official　teaching　on　the　whole



subject；　is　precise　as　to　rules；　mentions　illustrative　events；



quotes　law　cases　where　verdicts　turned　upon　a　point　of　stowage。　　He



is　never　pedantic；　and；　for　all　his　close　adherence　to　broad



principles；　he　is　ready　to　admit　that　no　two　ships　can　be　treated



exactly　alike。







Stevedoring；　which　had　been　a　skilled　labour；　is　fast　becoming　a



labour　without　the　skill。　　The　modern　steamship　with　her　many　holds



is　not　loaded　within　the　sailor…like　meaning　of　the　word。　　She　is



filled　up。　　Her　cargo　is　not　stowed　in　any　sense；　it　is　simply



dumped　into　her　through　six　hatchways；　more　or　less；　by　twelve



winches　or　so；　with　clatter　and　hurry　and　racket　and　heat；　in　a



cloud　of　steam　and　a　mess　of　coal…dust。　　As　long　as　you　keep　her



propeller　under　water　and　take　care；　say；　not　to　fling　down　barrels



of　oil　on　top　of　bales　of　silk；　or　deposit　an　iron　bridge…girder　of



five　ton　or　so　upon　a　bed　of　coffee…bags；　you　have　done　about　all



in　the　way　of　duty　that　the　cry　for　prompt　despatch　will　allow　you



to　do。















XIV。















The　sailing…ship；　when　I　knew　her　in　her　days　of　perfection；　was　a



sensible　creature。　　When　I　say　her　days　of　perfection；　I　mean



perfection　of　build；　gear；　seaworthy　qualities　and　case　of



handling；　not　the　perfection　of　speed。　　That　quality　has　departed



with　the　change　of　building　material。　　No　iron　ship　of　yesterday



ever　attained　the　marvels　of　speed　which　the　seamanship　of　men



famous　in　their　time　had　obtained　from　their　wooden；　copper…sheeted



predecessors。　　Everything　had　been　done　to　make　the　iron　ship



perfect；　but　no　wit　of　man　had　managed　to　devise　an　efficient



coating　composition　to　keep　her　bottom　clean　with　the　smooth



cleanness　of　yellow　metal　sheeting。　　After　a　spell　of　a　few　weeks



at　sea；　an　iron　ship　begins　to　lag　as　if　she　had　grown　tired　too



soon。　　It　is　only　her　bottom　that　is　getting　foul。　　A　very　little



affects　the　speed　of　an　iron　ship　which　is　not　driven　on　by　a



merciless　propeller。　　Often　it　is　impossible　to　tell　what



inconsiderate　trifle　puts　her　off　her　stride。　　A　certain



mysteriousness　hangs　around　the　quality　of　speed　as　it　was



displayed　by　the　old　sailing…ships　commanded　by　a　competent　seaman。



In　those　days　the　speed　depended　upon　the　seaman；　therefore；　apart



from　the　laws；　rules；　and　regulations　for　the　good　preservation　of



his　cargo；　he　was　careful　of　his　loading；　…　or　what　is　technically



called　the　trim　of　his　ship。　　Some　ships　sailed　fast　on　an　even



keel；　others　had　to　be　trimmed　quite　one　foot　by　the　stern；　and　I



have　heard　of　a　ship　that　gave　her　best　speed　on　a　wind　when　so



loaded　as　to　float　a　couple　of　inches　by　the　head。







I　call　to　mind　a　winter　landscape　in　Amsterdam　…　a　flat　foreground



of　waste　land；　with　here　and　there　stacks　of　timber；　like　the　huts



of　a　camp　of　some　very　miserable　tribe；　the　long　stretch　of　the



Handelskade；　cold；　stone…faced　quays；　with　the　snow…sprinkled



ground　and　the　hard；　frozen　water　of　the　canal；　in　which　were　set



ships　one　behind　another　with　their　frosty　mooring…ropes　hanging



slack　and　their　decks　idle　and　deserted；　because；　as　the　master



stevedore　（a　gentle；　pale　person；　with　a　few　golden　hairs　on　his



chin　and　a　reddened　nose）　informed　me；　their　cargoes　were　frozen…in



up…country　on　barges　and　schuyts。　　In　the　distance；　beyond　the



waste　ground；　and　running　parallel　with　the　line　of　ships；　a　line



of　brown；　warm…toned　houses　seemed　bowed　under　snow…laden　roofs。



From　afar　at　the　end　of　Tsar　Peter　Straat；　issued　in　the　frosty　air



the　tinkle　of　bells　of　the　horse　tramcars；　appearing　and



disappearing　in　the　opening　between　the　buildings；　like　little　toy



carriages　harnessed　with　toy　horses　and　played　with　by　people　that



appeared　no　bigger　than　children。







I　was；　as　the　French　say；　biting　my　fists　with　impatience　for　that



cargo　frozen　up…country；　with　rage　at　that　canal　set　fast；　at　the



wintry　and　deserted　aspect　of　all　those　ships　that　seemed　to　decay



in　grim　depression　for　want　of　the　open　water。　　I　was　chief　mate；



and　very　much　alone。　　Directly　I　had　joined　I　received　from　my



owners　instructions　to　send　all　the　ship's　apprentices　away　on



leave　together；　because　in　such　weather　there　was　nothing　for



anybody　to　do；　unless　to　keep　up　a　fire　in　the　cabin　stove。　　That



was　attended　to　by　a　snuffy　and　mop…headed；　inconceivably　dirty；



and　weirdly　toothless　Dutch　ship…keeper；　who　could　hardly　speak



three　words　of　English；　but　who　must　have　had　some　considerable



knowledge　of　the　language；　since　he　managed　invariably　to　interpret



in　the　contrary　sense　everything　that　was　said　to　him。







Notwithstanding　the　little　iron　stove；　the　ink　froze　on　the　swing…



table　in　the　cabin；　and　I　found　it　more　convenient　to　go　ashore



stumbling　over　the　arctic　waste…land　and　shivering　in　glazed



tramcars　in　order　to　write　my　evening　letter　to　my　owners　in　a



gorgeous　cafe　in　the　centre　of　the　town。　　It　was　an　immense　place；



lofty　and　gilt；　upholstered　in　red　plush；　full　of　electric　lights



and　so　thoroughly　warmed　that　even　the　marble　tables　felt　tepid　to



the　touch。　　The　waiter　who　brought　me　my　cup　of　coffee　bore；　by



comparison　with　my　utter　isolation；　the　dear　aspect　of　an　intimate



friend。　　There；　alone　in　a　noisy　crowd；　I　would　write　slowly　a



letter　addressed　to　Glasgow；　of　which　the　gist　would　be：　　There　is



no　cargo；　and　no　prospect　of　any　coming　till　late　spring



apparently。　　And　all　the　time　I　sat　there　the　necessity　of　getting



back　to　the　ship　bore　heavily　on　my　already　half…congealed　spirits



…　the　shivering　in　glazed　tramcars；　the　stumbling　over　the　snow…



sprinkled　waste　ground；　the　vision　of　ships　frozen　in　a　row；



appearing　vaguely　like　corpses　of　black　vessels　in　a　white　world；



so　silent；　so　lifeless；　so　soulless　they　seemed　to　be。







With　precaution　I　would　go　up　the　side　of　my　own　particular　corpse；



and　would　feel　her　as　cold　as　ice　itself　and　as　slippery　under　my



feet。　　My　cold　berth　would　swallow　up　like　a　chilly　burial　niche　my



bodily　shivers　and　my　mental　excitement。　　It　was　a　cruel　winter。



The　very　air　seemed　as　hard　and　trenchant　as　steel；　but　it　would



have　taken　much　more　than　this　to　extinguish　my　sacred　fire　for　the



exercise　of　my　craft。　　No　young　man　of　twenty…four　appointed　chief



mate　for　the　first　time　in　his　life　would　have　let　that　Dutch



tenacious　winter　penetrate　into　his　heart。　　I　think　that　in　those



days　I　never　forgot　the　fact　of　my　elevation　for　five　consecutive



minutes。　　I　fancy　it　kept　me　warm