Evening Star Newspaper, September 29, 1929, Page 117

— — Marooned E BY JOHN CAMERON. OW long would she hold out? As though in answer to my specula- tion the foremast and mainmast crashed over the side, dragging with them the mizzen topmast. Only the mizzenmast remained standing, a soli- tary sentinel, or rather a monument to a vessel dispatched to her doom. Day was setting into night when I bade the old Minstrel farewell. Many sailors look on their ships’ as almost human and regard a wreck with some such sad- ness as they would feel in gazihg on the corpse of a dear friend. Why not? Does not a ship have her moods, her whims, her vagarjes? Is she not vibrant with life, as if pulses ran through her frame? Must she not be watched with unremitting vigilance, like a beautiful and beloved but capricious woman? Does she not bear the hopes and fears of men from port to port, even as our lives centér about women from the cradic to the grave? E Cold and hungry when I reached the cottage, I gladly sat down «to a meal with Jorgensen. One could have a worse dinner than what he served: egg pancakes with tea of beaten eggs and hot water. To say that I slept that night would be hardly accurate; I suffered a tempo- rary death, so fagged was I by the eventful day and the sleepless night preceding. I was resur- rected when Jorgensen called me to breakfast. And such a meal: boiled eggs, each weighing nearly a pound; an omelet; egg bread, or pan- cake, again washed down with egg tea. API‘ER breakfast I tramped about the island in search of something from the Minstrel, and was rewarded by finding part of the stern washed inshore. On wading out to it I was de- lighted to discover nearly all the awning and a few sails. Jammed with the canvas were the fragments of Walker's piano. Much to my sur- prise there was something else: a rule that in some inexplicable manner had got there from my cabin on the main deck. It was one of the few things I saved after 21 years at sea. The canvas, I immediately saw, would be of immeasurable utility; we could unravel, knot and skin it into twine for fishing nets; the wires of the piano might be used for making hooks. Indeed, a pjano did have some value. We salved the sails and awnings and drenched them with fresh water; otherwise the canvas, being satu- rated with salt, always would have become damp in wet weather. The steel piano wires we rubbed with oil to prévent rust. With hooks made of them we caught many fish excellent for eating, a variety of albacore, so large and strong that I have seen two men dragged by one from the beach into the sea, fighting hard and hang- fng on until the fish drowned and was hauled ashore after a struggle of a half hour. While I was playing the wrecker, Capt. Walker met me with tidings that the crew re- fused to obey his orders. “You saved some firearms,” said I. “Give me a revolver. I'll maintain discipline.” “Would you shoot one ef the men?” he demanded. ‘I shall muster the men in line,” said I; “the first who refuses to obey you will be shot.” “Good God!"” he exclaimed. “That would be murder.” “Not at all, Captain,” I assured him; “I'll net shoot to kill; merely to wing——" “I'll never consent,” he interposed. “Perhaps I can per- suade them by gentler means.” *“Do not delude yourself, sir,” I urged. “I know these cattle better than you do. They must be kept in hand; dealt with firmly; taught, especially now, to look up to us as their superiors and masters. What is it to be? Do you consent to my pro- 12" “Mr. Cameron, I do not; that is final.” “Very well, Capt. Walker, you must paddle your own canoe. Nothing remains to be said except that we are all equals now and that each is a law to himself.. I shall, of eourse, protect your wife and children.” In thus declaring my belief that respeet for authority, the foundation of our little society, had disintegrated, I was sincere: I fully ex- pected the men to disobey me when I ordered them to work; but one and all eagerly carried out my instructions. They foraged for food and brought in hundreds of eggs, of different kinds and sizes. Rapidly did they melt away, so hun- gry were our men. Such myriads did we eat that I do not understand how I can stomach an egg today. Obviously the first and second officers could not lag behind the forecastle; Caucasian prestige had to be upheld. In one sitting Jorgensen and I disposed of 39, hen's size. Notwithstanding their weight, relative and absolute, in our diet, eggs did not constitute our sole food. Here I may give one day's menu: Breakfast—fish boiled or fried, egg pancake. egg tea. Dinner—beach la mar soup, minced flesh of sea fowl, fried fish, egg pancake. Sup- per—egg tea, cutlets of sea birds, egg pancake. Day after day we fanned the hope that a passing vessel would rescue us; days became weeks, and weeks months, and hope burned low. Why despair? We made the best of things. For me the crew worked willingly, though they would not move a hand for Walker. “Why?" I asked a boatswain. He replied that the men realized that the wrecking of the Minstrel was the captain’s fault; he was to blame for their being cast away, for the loss of their effécts and probably their wages as well. HAT they dwelt so insistently on their few belongings and scanty pay when all of us were dodging death may surprise some, but not those who know the peoples of the Orient and how little constitutes wealth for them—those swarming millions who are born in poverty, live in hunger and die in want. Since they would not obey Walker, the men turned naturally to me for leadership, and they fell to work all the more gladly when I explained to them that idleness would affect their health and make them more subject to scurvy. Directing them kept me busy enough, but I did miss books. The only one on the island was “Uncle Tom's Cabin,” and that I must have peruced once a week. Milder weather increased our good spirits. THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C., SEPTEMBER 29, 1929. , A WORLPRTE> The foremast and mainmast crashed over the side, dragging with them the mizzen topmast. In This Article John Cameron Tells of a Shipzerecked Crew Hundreds of Miles From the Ship Lanes; AF, ight for Food and Life. A Hard Crew and a Soft Captain. 4 Men as scantily clad as we were welcomed the northward swing of the sun; but soon we had to rig an awning to shelter us from its rays while we worked. Oncoming Spring and Sum- mer did, however, help us to solve the serious problem of clothing. Now we could spare our few garments by going clad in . loin cloths. What of yet another Winter? Well, that bridge was still distant; if we had to cross it we might manufacture canvas uniforms. Making shoes was out of the question; our bare feet would wear much longer than leather, so unshod we went, though we suffered severely until the soles hardened and we could run ‘oVersharp eoral without harm. . . For three months every one remained in the best of heaith. Then some of the men fell ill of a malady none could recognize. - We had no medicine to help them; probably nothing would have avalled. Their sickness was of the mind or soul; they lay inert and drowsy and we whites could not arouse them; day by day they became weaker, though suffering no pain, and died so peacefully that their passing scarcely seemed death to one who' had witnessed the violent struggles of white men against extinc- tion. In truth our monotonous diet of fish, flesh and eggs was threatening to endanger the health of all. Then the fortunate discovery of a tierce of rice from the Wandering Minstrel cheered our hearts and stomachs. The cask probably had been submerged since the wreck and now had risen to the surface, I conjec- tured, because water had penertated to the grain and created gas by fermentation. Impregnated with salt though it was, the rice became quite palatable after being soaked in fresh water. In its division we all shared alike, notwithstahd- ing the skipper's claim of double portions for his wife and sons, whom he described as pas- sengers and so entitled to more. To this de- mand I replied that distinctions were erased when the vessel was lost. How quickly the others ate their small shares I do not know; Jorgensen and I husbanded ours and actually debated whether we should count the grains to be alloted to each meal. Never before, I think, had T grasped the value of food. We did not, indeed, waste the fresh water in which we had soaked the rice. Hap- pening to notice that the liquor was fermenting, I boiled it down and obtained a good substitute for sowens, a Scotch dish made from the farina which remains in the husks of oats. Day pursued day and month followed month in monotonous procession—and still no rescue. To provide work to keep us from moping, I suggested to Jorgensen that we construct a craft of some sort from the lighters upon which he had drawn for his habitation. If we did build a vessel, however, I designed it only for _Walker and has family and such members of ‘the crew as wished to accompany him; I had resolved never to sail with him again; I pre- ferred to await the chance of rescue or to risk a voyage in one of the Minstrel's boats, and Jorgensen was like-minded. . “I think I can build a boat large enough fo! every one,” said the carpenter, “if you can get the crew to help.” This they gladly agreed to do. I teold off the strongest and most intelli- gent to assist Jorgensen, the others I detailed to :gather and prepare feod. Without loss of time . work began. Merely making a start cheered the men remarkably; they were com- pletely changed, so delighted were they at even a prospect of escaping from their island prison. OR the keel we used logs that had drifted ashore. Some of them, of Douglas fir, were undamaged and free from teredo borings, which . indicated that they had not been long in the water. Dismantling the lighters and carrying the planks three-fourths of a mile through yielding sand was heavy work, as Jorgensen had discovered, but the crew, though relatively weak, pygmies alongside the brawny Dane, made light of it, required no driving. Jorgen- sen was an indefatigable worker, a competent - and skillful carpenter and no mean blacksmith, . To me fell the sail making, rigging, disman- tling the lighters, general supervision, and the adjustment of disputes. That last duty was not onerous, for the men were obedient and eager and often anticipated what I desired. Of greatest moment, there was no further illness; work was best, the only remedy for the ills of our brown crew. They toiled even harder when we began to fasten the planking in place and the craft loomed in size. In a few words I have narrated the progress of work, slow but satisfying, yet I do not wish to leave an impression that everything was easy. Lacking tools, for example, we had to manufacture them from shark hooks, which, fortunately, were of malleable steel. In this a portable forge and grindstone, which had been landed from the Wandering Minstrel before the wreck, were indispensable. Our try-pots, too, served as boilers for a steam box, in which we softened and made pliable the planks that went to the bends of the boat; otherwise we should have had great difficulty. Spikes for our craft had to come from the lighters, and . sails from the awnings I found in the Min- strel's wreck, while old hemp rope furunished oakum for the seams. More than once we proved that man can accomplish much—when he must. While the rest of us were building the schooner or were working at other appointed tasks. Walker was at his usual scheming, was spinning plans of where he would go and what ‘boy’s agitation. 17 srawi s | TSRS Sia A iS5 ight Months on a Pacific Islan q ‘l.l‘ he would do once he had arrived at some des- tination in the craft we were constructing. His life on Midway, however, was not always & s@e:t dream. One day Henry Walker, one ‘of the captain’s sons, met me with word that his father wished to see me at once. “ “What is wrong?” I asked in alarm at the “Is your father il1?” “No, Mr, Cameron,” the lad explained; “one of the Filipino boatswains stuck a spear into his cheek.” “I am sorry, Henry,” I said as gently -as possible: “but. you must tell your father that it is too late to do anything with the men. He should have let me wing one of them the morning after the wreck. Why didn’t he him- self shoot the man? Your father made his own bed, Henry, and there he must lie” The wound was mnot: serious, especially as it was clean cut and soon would heal. I did not take the trouble to ascertain the cause of the quarrel. 3 We completed and launched the ‘schoomer, & strongly bullt vessel with good lines, of about 14 tons. Moving her to the water from our building stocks, which were 70 yards from the beach, required four days, the use of rollers, much manpower and more sulphurous E Now that the vessel was ready for use, Jor- ' gensen and I announced our intention not to sail in her. Confounded by eur decision, Walker ' tried to persuade us to go: he made lavish promises; even offered us part of-the proceeds : when the vessel was sold. Yet I knew, evem if - . he did not, that whatever we received for her,. must go to our support until we could : y ourselves; no British or American %% whatever country we reached would help us so ‘ long as we had ‘the’schooner or money realised by her sale. : We maliciously made a counter proposal, that he give us the vessel on arrival; we were, how- ever, not disappointed at his refusal. “The um- derwriters who insured the Minstrel would not permit that,” he protested. “What rot!” said - L “Oniy the sails and rigging eame from the Minstrel's salvage. But is it not strange, cap- tain, that the underwriters would permit you t® sell the schooner and share the proceeds with us?” * Day after day he tried in vain tq move Jorgengen and me. g A URING this time thé Dane and I did nek neglect our duty; we put many barrels of fresh water aboard to serve as ballast and laid in’ provisions of eggs, smoked sea birds, fish salted and smoked, live turtles—the whole " stock sufficlent for six . weeks, during whick the schooner should be able to reach the Mare shall Islands. Now no excuse for remaining on Midway occurred to Walker; therefore, i asked me the -direct question: “Mr. Cameron, why won't you sail with me?” “I decline to reply,” said I, “and you would be wise never to ask me again.” “My life would not be safe,” he said, “with such scoundrelly men.” “You, captain,” I reminded him, “are alone to blame. All our troubles are your fault. Then sall without a crew. You and your sons could handle the vessel: she is stanch; you wownld have good weather, now that it is Summer*@ha the northeast trades would carry you the whole way to the Marshalls.” But Walker would not move without Messrs. Jorgensen and Cameron. .Our labor had been wasted; there was no one to navigate the schooner. This turn reacted severely on the men; a Filipino boatswain and two of his countrymen died of scurvy. Those who kept their bodies glean, however, and fole lowed my advice about exercise were not affect= o ¢d. All hands soon became greatly depressed. At this juncture a storm cast the schooner upon the lagoon beach, but the only damage ' Continued on Nineteenth Page A