At last we saw it before us. We ran down the sails and let the boutre carry her way. Abdi dived with the end of a rope in one hand and swam like a porpoise towards the land, while we payed out the cable. He vanished instantly into the night, while the rope continued to run out. From a long way off we heard his voice calling that he had not reached land yet, and the coil of rope was finished. We had to pull it all in again with him at the end of it. During this time we had drifted, and a current was now bearing us rapidly away from the island. We were already so far away that it no longer sheltered us from the wind which started driving us out to sea. We could hardly see the island, having now come into the zone where the red glare of the lantern beams enveloped us as they touched the water. The current must have been swift indeed to have pushed us so far in such a short time. We had to try at all costs to get back to the island, otherwise the sea would carry us off like a piece of driftwood on a river towards the south.
It was new moon, the season of high tides, and I must have arrived just at the moment of the ebb. We crowded on sail and started tacking to regain the miles we had lost. At regular intervals the sails were lit up by the red ray which passed over us. Then little by little as we won our way back, the beam only gleamed on the top of the white triangle of canvas; then we remained wholly in the shadow while the rays passed over our heads, carrying their comforting message to sailors away on the horizon. I wondered if we would be lucky enough to strike the exact spot where the wooden jetty was built. That was the whole question. We had to lower the sails as we got near the mountains, because of the puffs of wind that fell from them in sudden gusts and also because of the eddies. We should have to approach at a good speed, then lower the sails at the last possible moment and let the boutre carry her way, in order to strike the wharf. But to carry out this manoeuvre successfully, it was necessary to know exactly at what point we wanted to touch land, and in this obscurity we could not see twenty yards ahead.
I leaned over the helm, gnawing my nails with anxiety, my eyes fixed on this threatening darkness. Suddenly I saw a little, twinkling star appear a little above sea-level, some distance from the red globe of the lighthouse lamp. It waved slowly up and down and I realized that it was a lantern carried by somebody on foot. It moved slowly along, sometimes disappearing behind the rocks. Then it remained stationary. It was undoubtedly a signal meant for us. Probably the lighthouse-keeper had been watching our manoeuvres. This unexpected assistance cheered us up, and for another hour we tacked towards the light. But as I did not know how powerful it was, I could not estimate our distance from it, and though it glimmered feebly enough, it was sufficient to dazzle us and make the surrounding darkness still blacker. I thought I was still a long way off when I suddenly saw its reflection on the choppy water, and realized that the wharf was only twenty yards away. I had just time to lower the sails before we were right in under the wooden erection covered with seaweed. The tide was out.
A man was crouching on the little platform ready to seize the rope we slung him. He moored us solidly and called out ‘All right.’ Then before I had time to collect my thoughts, he had taken his lantern and started back up the mountain-side, like a peaceful citizen going home to bed. As he went he threw me a cordial ‘Good night.’ The wind began to try to push us out to sea again, but this time there was nothing to fear – we were securely fastened. I watched the light going up the mountain-side and vanishing. The man had entered his house. Another type of Englishman, this good fellow… a hermit and a sailor.
Even if the position we were in had allowed us to sleep, the deafening noise made by the screaming seagulls wheeling unceasingly in the rays of the lantern would have kept us from closing an eye. I was afraid, too, that the currents would be reversed when the tide changed. In that case nothing could save us from going on the rocks. I could not see them, but I could hear the wind whistling through their crannies, and the suction of the air when the swell penetrated into them, then the heavy crashes of the waves dashing against them, followed by streaming and spraying. My men were very uneasy. In vain I explained to them that all these strange sounds were produced by the force of the water in the hollows; they were sure that there were seals and other sea-monsters concealed there. Abdi said he had seen one holding our mooring-rope between his teeth, and he was certain that it was these monsters who kept trying to push the ship out to sea. All this, accompanied by the most terrifying details. I could understand their condition of mind very well, for I myself was so influenced by the strangeness of this place that all the stories I had heard haunted my mind, and if I had been obliged to dive down into this black water, I could not have done it without a shiver of fear. I rather enjoyed being in the grip of this vague superstitious fear, for in spite of science and learning, the human soul has a natural thirst for the marvellous and the unknown.
Towards morning the rope which attached us to the jetty, which had been kept taut by the wind constantly driving us away from land, slackened and the ship stopped swinging. As I had feared, the current had begun to flow in the contrary direction. I should have liked to go and thank the Englishman who had saved us, but I felt that it would be imprudent to wait here any longer. This time the strait seemed calmer. In these regions the aspect of the sea changes with disconcerting rapidity. We went up the channel in a long tack, making good progress; in the morning we had passed the northern point of the island and on the starboard tack I ventured in among the reefs of the inner sea which stretches to the north-west. There I could work profitably to windward in these waters which are always calm, despite the strong breeze blowing.
TWENTY-TWO
The Strait of Jubal
I wanted to gain the shelter of the southern part of the big island of Jubal before night fell. At the point which was marked as anchorage on my chart I saw with disgust that there was a cluster of buildings, but, though I scanned the spot most carefully through my telescope, I could not see any signs of inhabitants; everything looked deserted. I anchored in front of a pretty beach all littered with machinery of all kinds, elevators, cranes and so on.
We went ashore. The first thing we noted was that there was no trace of footprints in the sand, which was as smooth or as ridged by the wind as in the most deserted islands of the Red Sea. I saw a big building the door of which stood wide open. I went into an engine-room containing a horizontal diesel engine. A workman’s bench and all the usual tools were lying about as if the workmen had just gone home to dinner, but everything was thickly covered with dust, and the machinery was all festooned with spiders’ webs. Outside, compound tackle was hung on lifting-jacks complete with chains, and a half-full barrel of oil stood with closed tap.
I could not believe my eyes. No doubt a watchman would soon be appearing. I fired off a shot to attract his attention and sent a man up to the higher ground to inspect the surroundings. But he could see nobody, and my shot remained unanswered. The island was deserted all right; everything looked as if it had been abandoned suddenly. I was strongly tempted to lay hands on all this material left only in the charge of God, and the pillaging instincts of my sailors, accustomed to stripping wrecks, were strongly excited at the sight of all this tempting booty. I had some difficulty in making them see reason. My virtuous remonstrances were not at all dictated by a lofty moral sense; I should have laid hands on all this treasure trove without the slightest scruple, if only to wreak vengeance on the two English engineers for their reception, had I not realized how impossible it would be for me to put in at Suez with such an odd cargo, so little compatible with my alleged business of pearl fishing. This eccentricity would inevitably have drawn upon me an attention I was far from desiring. I therefore contented myself with taking a few tools, which are always useful, and various bits of wood which might come in handy for repairs. I was obliged to promise my men that we would stop here on our way home, and if the legal owner had not come to claim his property, to allow them to load it on the boutre. There was an assortment of copper plates which so tempted them th
at I had great difficulty in preventing them from carrying them on board at once. The most valuable discovery we made was that of several barrels of fresh water, and on them we pounced with considerable satisfaction.
We went off before dawn. The wind was not yet violent, and after a three hours’ tack we reached the edge of the reef of Schab-Ali which runs along the coast of Asia for about twenty miles, eight miles from the shore. This reef was formed of a series of madreporic tables joined together by rocky spikes between which there was no clear passage. Behind this barrier, on which the waves broke, was a little inner sea of calm and limpid blue water, in which ships of small tonnage could come round the most violent head winds. In this sheltered zone other beds of madrepores show their wide yellow patches just under the surface. At this season, when the Red Sea was at its lowest level, there was very little water covering the reefs, and at low tide some of the rocks and tables emerged completely. There were generally sea eagles perched on them, which gave an appearance of lively animation to these strange silhouettes. We went into this inner sea by a narrow opening in the southern extremity of the reef. The wreck of a steamer was spitted on the rocks, so perfectly preserved that for a moment we had the illusion of having arrived just after the disaster had taken place. Two enormous herons had taken up their abode on the deck of the wreck, and were walking about with great dignity; from a distance we thought they were men. As we came nearer they flew heavily away, followed by a whole flock of screaming birds.
I had to yield to the prayers of the crew and go and inspect these sad remains more closely, for Mhamed Moussa and Abdi came from Cape Gardafui, notorious for the number of wrecks which take place every year, and flotsam and jetsam had an irresistible attraction for them.
In reality this ship had been abandoned for many years. Every part of it was eaten away by salt and burned by the sun. All that remained was the shell, held together by the reefs which surrounded it on all sides, giving an appearance of life to this rusty phantom by preventing the waves from breaking it up. No doubt in a night of fog, that fog which consists of sand blown from the desert by the west winds, they had not seen the lighthouse on Chadwan, and driven out of their course by the violence of the wind, had run in here between the reef and the mainland, and only realized their error when they ran aground. I was always saddened by the sight of those dead ships, those corpses which remained upright as long as they could and seemed to struggle desperately not to go under and disappear entirely from the eyes of men, but to stay there as a warning to others. In the empty hold, through which the waves washed with curious sucking noises, in the dismantled alleyways, everywhere ghosts seemed to flit about. Firan found some bones in the fo’c’sle. Much moved, we all ran up to see them. They were the bones of a dog, or of a bitch rather, for in a corner we picked up two tiny skulls and fragments of bones broken up by the birds of prey. I imagined the death of this poor beast, which had remained alone on the wreck, unwilling to abandon her little ones which she had hidden in a comer known only to herself, where she had put them when the water had begun to fill the ship. It was strange to find these bleached bones after so many years, these touching skeletons which had remained to tell their sad story.
Since we had stopped in any case, I thought I might as well examine these great rocky plateaux which encumbered the sea in every direction, and which I had never been close to. I took the pirogue and set out. They were veritable gardens under the sea, pushed up to the surface for the moment. The strangest thing about them, however, was that their surface was covered with great tridacna, those enormous shells which pious sailors used to bring home to act as fonts in their village churches or the chapels of their castles. Some of them were huge, measuring nearly three feet at the longest part. They were all half-open, letting the clear water wash over their inner mantles, on which the sun set curious shadows. Each one gave out a veritable glow of its own colour, as if the whole mollusc had been an electric lamp. There were shells of every shade from violet to dark red, but the colours most frequently seen were green, yellow and orange. As I glided silently in my pirogue over these submarine flower-beds, covered by about eighteen inches of water, I had the impression of moving over a very gaudy carpet. Every shell seemed to be the opening which led to the splendours of some fairy palace, and I believe that they must have inspired all those pretty legends told by sailors of old, of nymphs and meimaids which haunted grottoes of mother-of-pearl, jade and crystal. While I was dreaming of all these splendours and wonders which the imagination can create out of nothing, my men were thinking of something more practical. They took on board as many of the shells as possible, opened them and scooped out the flesh, which they hung in strips to dry in the sun. Alas, the enchanted palaces now looked like socks hung out to dry on washing day. Their beautiful phosphorescent lights had vanished.
During the night a land breeze came down, most exceptionally, from the mountains of Sinai; we who had just come from the burning tropics shivered under its chill caress. Although this wind was in our favour, we could not take advantage of it at once, for because of the rocks surrounding us we were obliged to wait until dawn. But this pretty east wind lasted all forenoon and took us up as far as Tor, a port in the neighbourhood of Sinai, which was a starting-point for pilgrimages to the Coptic monasteries. Really, when one looks at these lofty mountains, so arid and rocky, one can’t help wondering what possessed Moses to bring people here and make his laws in such a place. But the climate must have changed here too.
At noon the north-west wind established itself definitely, but no matter how violently it might blow, we could not loiter in anchorages any longer, we had lost a lot of time already and the 18th August was approaching. At all costs we must get on northwards. I could hardly hope to arrive in time, but at least I wanted to be as little late as possible. For four days and four nights we went from one side of the gulf to the other, tacking painfully, with the boutre constantly on her beam ends, in spite of the fact that we changed the ballast over to the windward side every time in order to lessen the list so that I could keep all the sails spread to keep the boutre from drifting.
I was rash enough to pass over the Cheratib bank. There was quite enough water for our small vessel, but I did not know in what a witches’ dance the sea indulged when the north-west winds blew strongly, with the southern currents. For two hours I remained captive in this infernal spot, obliged to navigate with the lateen yard half-way up the mast to avoid smashing all the rigging. When we got out the boutre was leaking in a very alarming manner. We had to pump every hour, and each hour it took longer to empty her. Everybody listened in gloomy silence to the beating of the valve, and a general sigh of relief hailed the gurgling of the rose at the bottom of the hold. Seeing that the leak seemed to be getting worse, I thought it might be as well to find out where it was, and on examination I discovered that a piece of caulking-cord had been torn away, and the action of the water kept pulling more and more of it off, thus enlarging the leak. Once the hold was emptied, we could hear the water spurting in near the midship-beam. Just as this point there was a considerable weight of ballast consisting of a great coil of chain on which rested a two-hundred-litre barrel of water, the only one we had left. The ship was pitching so abominably that there could be no question of shifting this enormous weight. I steered for the shore. When a ship has sprung a leak, however small, instinctively one makes for land. I hoped, however, to find a sheltered place where we could try to shift the ballast. Of course I might have emptied the barrel, but where would we have got a fresh supply of water?
Under Cape Safrana the sea became calm and the wind seemed to slacken; when we were a cable’s length from shore I was able to lower the sails. For a few minutes Abdi had been busy preparing a sennet of oiled cotton; I realized what he wanted to do. First of all, a man dived and passed a rope under the ship. He attached it to each side about where we supposed the leak to be. Then Abdi muttered a prayer, took a deep breath, and dived with all his materials for caulking. The ro
pe which had been passed under the keel supported him while he worked. After diving several times, he managed to stop up the whole length of the opening with his sennet of cotton. This was enough to keep out the water. We went out to sea again, a heavy load off our minds.
I was awakened during the following night by the crew, in a great state of excitement. A white light gleamed on the horizon before us, and from time to time a bright beam crossed the clouds. We had reached Suez. It was the 16th August; we had been thirty-six days at sea. I had promised Alexandros to be here on the 18th. As I have already said, I gave this date quite at random, in order to appear business-like, but really without having the slightest idea if I could keep the appointment. I don’t think he had taken me very seriously either, and yet here I would be exact to the minute. It was rather amusing.
Now that the end of the voyage was in sight I felt much more at ease. Up till now the constant worries of navigation, the ever-renewed wonders of these coasts I had not known before, had made me forget the practical aim of the voyage. But now I was obliged to turn my mind to it. The sporting side of the enterprise, the adventurous attraction it had had for me – all that faded into the background. Now for business. I had put my holy all into this speculation; these eight cases represented my entire fortune. If I failed it meant ruin. Good-bye to the sea and the open air, good-bye to the life of freedom I so loved. I should be obliged to accept the slavery of some dreary job and become a domestic animal. This prospect revived all my courage and energy, which had faltered a moment before the painful necessity of mixing with men who lived for filthy lucre, and fighting them with weapons I hated to use.
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