EJANZH: Hulme Chapter Seven

Volume 7

East Indiaman ‘Eliza’ Easy duty to Calloa, Peru Bevanco’s Revolution Caulking & re-coppering Under the revolutionary guns Chinchas Island guano

We had been out of jail two weeks when Gleeson came into the house one day at noon saying, ‘Any of you fellows want to go to Calloa?’ There was about a dozen of us in the dining-room at the time; some of them asked what ship and others wanted to know what was the wages. He answered, ‘The Eliza wants twelve men to-morrow, wages six pounds per month’.

Now came a discussion about the ‘Eliza’ how long a trip she would probably make, and what sort of a ship she was. We told what her men in jail said about her, that a better or more comfortable ship never left England or a nicer set of officers and that when they made up their minds to refuse duty it was for no other reason than that they did not want to go back home, they wanted to stay in the Colonies.

There were two Germans and a Frenchman who spoke up saying they would ship in her, and after dinner Charley Beattie and I concluded to go in her also, he and I having the same reasons for wanting to make a trip home, we had both been in the Colonies about four years and had not heard anything from our friends for a long time and we both concluded to make the voyage in her for two reasons: The men who left her gave her a good name and a voyage round by Calloa would give us a good pay day in London or Liverpool, or wherever she went to with her guano, for a ship bound to Calloa is always bound to the Chincha Islands for Guano.

We tried to induce Gleeson to go, but no, he was going to Sydney if he had to pay his passage round there by steamboat.

Next morning there was another Frenchman who made up his mind to go in the ‘Eliza’, so after breakfast we all went down to the shipping office and there we found the Captain of the ‘Eliza’, a fine looking old man with bushy whiskers and hair slightly tinged with gray, who spoke English with a sort of Scotch twang to it. We signed articles, the usual articles signed on all ships going on long voyages for a period of two years unless sooner discharged, to go to Calloa and from there to the Chincha Islands to load guano, and from there to some port in Great Britain – wages 6# sterling per month.

There were not a great many men at this time ashore at the Port and Captain Loutitt found it difficult to find six other men and did not yet them for three or four days and then got two men out of jail who had run away from an American barque about two months before, and had been captured and had received a four month’s sentence and on their volunteering to ship in the ‘Eliza’ their sentence would be commuted.

This was no unusual occurrence, for captains to go and ship men who would run away from a bad ship and after being caught were glad to volunteer into some other vessel, especially when there were men there who had come out in the ‘Eliza’ who endorsed her as a good ship and a ship they would not have left had they wanted to go back to England. So we got the two men from jail and that completed his crew, and we all went down to her on the tug.

Having heard so much about the ship and her officers and the rest of the crew who had not struck work with them, from the men in jail, it seemed to myself and Beattie as though we were already acquainted with them. There was no mistaking the ship as we steamed towards her, there were some seven or eight other vessels at anchor there but the ‘Eliza’ was the largest and the only painted port ship among them. She was an old East India Man with high poop and quarter galleries and nothing higher than her three royal yards.

As we went over her side I was struck with the home like air of quietness about her. The Old Man went over the side first and walked aft, the rest of us following and passing our dunnage up and getting them into the forecastle.

She had a top gallant fore-castle with a partition running fore and aft down the heel of the bow-sprit dividing it into parts, one side for the starboard watch and the other for the port watch; the forecastle was large and roomy with plenty of light from dead lights over head in the forecastle deck, a door entering from each side by the end of the windlass and over the windlass were hanging-doors that could be raised or dropped at pleasure. There were bunks for twelve men on each side, although there were a number of hammocks hung, and as at that time I always carried a hammock and slept in it whenever I was in a vessel that had convenience for hanging one and seeing a good chance here, unlashed my hammock when eight bells were made and the cry was made ‘Grog ho!’, and as all hands filed aft we were called by the boatswain to lay aft for our grog, and on going aft to the front of the poop, the steward stood there with a large pitcher and served to each man as he camp up, a good sized lot of old Jamaica run. We had heard from her men in jail that at sea every day at noon rum and lime juice were served out and laying in port rum was served out three times a day at eight o’clock in the morning, noon and eight o’clock at night.

After grog was served we came forward and found dinner in the forecastle carried in by the boys of which she had six apprentices and two ordinary seamen.

On stepping to the kids to cut for ourselves we found them filled with fresh beef, potatoes, soup and cabbage; that did not look as though we were on any allowance; and right here I wish to say that so long as I was in the ‘Eliza’, for fourteen months, I never saw anything weighed or measured but water and grog and lime juice.

After dinner we were turned to work and we began to get acquainted with our ship mates. We found there were six men staying by the ship that did not refuse duty with the rest, and the two ordinary seamen and six apprentices, two of them just about out of their teens, strapping young fellows just completing a seven year apprenticeship, men grown and able to do a job of sailorizing as well as the best man aboard of her and with all competent to navigate the ship home if necessary.

The other four apprentices were not so far advanced, and the two ordinary seamen were one a small sized fellow of fifteen or thereabout but every inch of his small size was sailor but an inveterate liar and always in trouble; he was named Ned; the other was a big hulking fellow about eighteen years old but he had none of the material sailors are made of in his composition.

The boatswain was a small sized wiry built man and a cockney but a thorough seaman, he and the carpenter roomed together in the after part of the deck house, a large house on deck in the forward part of which was the ship’s galley or cook house for she had brought out to Port Adelaide 1,000 emigrants.

Abaft the passengers’ galley was the boatswain’s room and a sort of a work-shop for the carpenter; she also carried three mates, the first mate Mr. Marshall being a nephew of one of the owners, a tall, raw boned ‘Geardy’ as sailors call all north country sailors from the neighborhood of New Castle or Shields in the North of England. The second mate was a middle aged man who had probably spent his whole life sailing out of London in the East India trade and Australian ships and did not seem to have influence enough to help him to climb higher. The third mate was the prodigal son of some wealthy family in or near London who had procured him that berth on the ‘Eliza’ in the vain hope of trying to make an officer of him for he would never make a sailor. This was his first voyage. It seemed as though Beattie and I knew the whole of the crew fore and aft having heard them talked about so much and described with all their peculiarities that it seemed as though we were coming among old shipmates.

The fresh water boat had been alongside the day before and filled all the empty barrels and tanks and our work now was to get these water casks lashed and her tween decks cleared up. All the passengers bunks and other accommodations had been torn down and had to be piled away in the lower hold on top of the gravel ballast as she was going in ballast to the Chinchas.

This work kept us busy all that after-noon and next day, and the day following we hove up the port or small anchor taking about a dozen turns out of the chain cables, she having laid there for nearly a month with two anchors down and every time she swung with the tide either put a turn in the chains or took one out.

After getting the small anchor in, the chain on the large anchor was hove short, the top-sails and top- gallant sail were then loosed and set, and the anchor broke from the bottom and the good ship ‘Eliza’ was off for Calloa.

We had a light wind to leave with and it was not until the following night that we passed out between Cape Willoughby, the South-eastern point of Kangaroo Island and Encounter Bay, and as the sun went down that night I took my last look at Port Elliott and the mouth of the River Murray for I never again was close enough to that part of Australian coast to see it.

During the night we got the wind fresh from about west, north-west, and when the Port watch, the one I was in, came on deck at four o’clock in the morning, for we had the eight hours out that night, we commenced to send aloft studding sail booms and by seven bells when the starboard watch came on deck we had the fore lower and top mast and top gallant studding sails on her and the main top-mast and top gallant studding sails on her as well, and the ‘Eliza’ was driving a white-headed sea ahead of her as though she was reeling off 20 miles an hour, but when the log was hove at eight bells she was only making nine knots with all the spread of square canvas she was showing for she had everything set.

We kept the wind from north and westward for we sighted Kings Island the fifth day out broad off on the port beam. The wind was now hauling ahead and that night we were close hauled. The wind held about South-east for three or four days running us away to the Southerd or Van Diemen’s Land but at the same time running us into a latitude that we might look for strong westerly winds.

After the South-easter died out we were not long before we got the wind South-west that soon freshened and for a week or ten days we ran before a tremendous sea but everything about the old ship was strong and good and being only in ballast trim she ran before the mountain like seas without taking so much as a drop of water aboard.

We saw very little to break the monotony of the every day life of a long voyage on all well regulated vessels and every thing moved like clock-work; watch succeeded watch, day succeeded day and week followed week and we scarcely noticed the time going.

Occasionally we sighted a whaling ship or whales, we had regular watch and watch and so far we had no weather but that the watch on deck could take in sail without calling the watch below. We had all we could eat and that of a better quality than I ever saw in an English ship before, and every day at noon our regular allowance of grog and two ounces of lime juice as a guard against scurvey.

Every man and boy aboard of her was kept to work in his watch on deck, the boatswain not standing any regular watch, he and the carpenter sleeping nights unless all hands were called to shorten sail then both of them were on deck, but in the day time the boatswain carried on the work in both watches.

Having the tween decks all clear now made a splendid work shop. There was one old man in the forecastle named Hall, one of the men who came out in her from London; this man had heart disease or something of that kind, he could not go aloft and so was kept to work at some kind of light work on deck and being a good sail maker was kept to work mostly on the sails.

The ‘Eliza’ was the right kind of a vessel for an old worn out sailor, in a large ship like her there was plenty of work that a feeble old man could do and do it just as well as a younger one could have done, such as sail making, fitting rigging, splicing and serving, and in a good ship like the ‘Eliza’ such men can earn their livelihood a few years longer, while in a bad ship or a smaller one, they would be useless and soon used up; but such men in all first class ships that carry boys or apprentices are the real instructors of the young sailor, the boys being generally sent along with these old men as assistants and in return receive from them their first lessons in practical seamanship. A boy that is quick to learn and has the tact of humoring the little peculiarities of these old men soon learns to do a piece of rigging work as neat and as quick as an older man; but the sullen, slouchy, slovenly boy makes friends with no one and learns slowly; he gets all the dirty, slushing and tarring to do, sweeping and cleaning of deck. In the forecastle he fares but little better having no friends on deck, he has none in the forecastle, and such a boy grows up to be a man who does not know his duty thoroughly and is what is known as a poor sailor. When such men get into ships that have hard brutal men for officers the half learned sailor is generally the one on whom the hard wedge falls, while the thorough seaman even in a bad ship generally fares better, for even in the worst ships floating the officers generally have some favorities in the forecastle to whom they show favors; if not in words, their actions show it by giving them less abuse and easier times.

We had boys on the ‘Eliza’ belonging to both of the classes I have tried to depict and we had one of another style or type, the boy Ned, he was small for his age, about 15 but he could do a piece of rigging work as well as any man aboard the ship. I learned that he was the son of a London ship rigger but his father could do no good with him so he sent him to sea; Ned had made three voyages to India, this being his fourth.

Coming out from London the steward needing assistance in the cabin took Ned as cabin boy but being caught stealing a bottle of brandy and some tobacco from the Old Man’s state room he was sent forward again, and for stealing tobacco in the forecastle he had been ropes ended time after time; but the greatest punishment inflicted on Ned was to stop his grog. This was done when he was caught stealing the Old Man’s brandy, but it was a well known fact in the forecastle that Ned had found out another plan for getting a little taste of grog, this was through the third mate. He and the boy were great friends – Ned doing the Third Mate’s washing and mending whenever his clothes needed any mending, and the boy having nothing in his composition allied to laziness, found plenty of time to do the Third Mate’s washing and mending, for there was a privilege accorded to the crew of the ‘Eliza’ that I had never been shipmates with before, and that was, the whole of Saturday was given to the crew for washing and mending, so there was no work done Saturday and Sunday but just the work necessary to navigate the vessel, relieving the wheel and trimming sail, the men enjoying themselves any way to suit themselves.

In fine weather some of them would put on their best clothes and air them promenadeing the deck forward of the main mast.

I do not think the Old Man was the author of this unusual privilege, for there was nothing about his actions to indicate piety, but he was a whole souled philanthropist in its broadest sense, but Mr. Marshall the mate, I think was the man to whom credit should be given for this extra days respite from the ship’s duties, but he did not know that quite a large number of the crew used Saturday to wash and mend their clothes and spent all day Sunday and a good share of their watches below in the forecastle playing cribbage.

We now had westerly winds all the time and most of the time fresh; the wind was now from south-west to west, north-west but all the time driving us along and shortening our longitude up, for we were steering due East making all longitude.

We had been at sea near a month when dysentery again began to trouble me. I had partially got over it before leaving Adelaide and had felt well since leaving until we were near a month out when it returned to me again in a worse form than I had ever had it. I said nothing about it for about a week until one Sunday morning I had relieved the wheel at four o’clock, we were running before a heavy rolling sea with the Royals in and the mizzen and main courses hauled up, she did not steer bad but she needed wheel sometimes faster than I could give it to her in the weak state I was in.

The mate noticed the vessel making some wild steering and spoke about it. I finally told him the condition I was in and he called another man to the wheel and I went forward.

When the Old Man came on deck about six bells, the mate must have told him about my being sick for he came right forward into the forecastle. I told the Old Man how long I had been sick in the first place and how I had treated for it in Adelaide; he then told me that the disease had developed into chronic dysentery and flux, ‘but’ he added, ‘I think I can bring you around all right’.

He began his treatment by ordering me to eat nothing but what he sent me from the cabin. I followed his instructions for a week or more, eating nothing but a few spoonfulls of rice sent to me twice a day from the cabin. By this time I was reduced not only in flesh but in strength also. He now began giving me medicine and twice a day the Old Man came forward into the forecastle to see how I was for five long weeks before I was strong enough to come on deck; but I came out on a bright Sunday morning just five weeks from the time I was laid up, and while sitting on the top-gallant fore-castle, one of the men was aloft loosing the main royal to be set, raised the Island of Juan Fernandez the first land we had seen since we lost sight of King’s Island in Basses Straits on the coast of Australia. We had run across the South Pacific Ocean away to the South’erd of a large group of South Sea Islands, and the lonely Island of Juan Fernandez was the first sight of land to dispel the monotony of a two months voyage out of sight of land, and but a very few vessels had been seen and none of them spoke.

There had been some expectation of seeing the Island the day before and a look-out had been kept for it all night, but by noon we were abreast of the Island some five miles off.

One of the Frenchmen who had shipped with me at Adelaide had been ashore on the Island about two years before, he, at that time belonging to the ‘Corvette San Carlos’ of the Chilian Navy. At that time he said there was no one on the Island but convicts from Chili and the Government officers in charge of them.

Three or four days after passing Juan Fernandez our wind all left us and for ten days I do not think we moved ten miles, the Ocean was smoothe as an inland lake, but during this nice weather, for it was pleasant though calm, I was rapidly gaining strength.

Whatever delicacies they had on the cabin table a portion was sent forward into the fore-castle every meal, to myself, and another man who was sick from inflamation of the kidneys, and during our sickness and recovery no two patients ever received better or kinder treatment than we two received from Captain S. T. Loutitt on our voyage from Adelaide to Calloa in the ship ‘Eliza’ in the latter part of 1856.

After we had been becalmed for ten days we got a light breeze from the north-east and though close hauled on the wind we made some northing for three or four days when the wind hauled more to the Eastward and sending us along until we got the South-east trades which though steady were not strong. About a week after getting them on a Sunday morning we raised the high rocky cliffs of San Lorenza, a long rocky Island forming the southern side of Calloa Bay.

We ran up the Bay and came to anchor among a fleet of some seventy or eighty vessels from almost every part of the world judging from the flags flying, for all the flags of Europe and North and South America seemed to be represented.

It was after-noon when we came to anchor but as soon as our canvas was all stowed and the yards squared by lifts and braces, our own flag was run up to the spanker gaff and the Company’s-house flag to the main.

The Old Man expected to have found two more vessels here belonging to the same employ but not seeing anything of them among the shipping he concluded that they must be at the Chinchas loading. They were to have left Sydney about the same time that we left Adelaide, but we had made an unusually long passage almost three months, and she was only ninety-five days coming from London to Adelaide.

Monday morning after breakfast orders were given to get the gig into water, for the Eliza like most other East India Men or Australian ships carried a sort of fancy light pulling boat known as the gig, and the crew for that boat being generally chosen out of the younger members of the crew. Sometimes a captain will form his crew out of the ship’s boys if they have that number of boys whom they can trust to not run away or to get drunk while they are shore as the gig is sometimes ashore for a whole day at d time, and then again it was considered quite an honor to belong to the gig’s crew in large ships like the ‘Eliza’, the crew of the gig being never called on to do any other work or but very seldom, more than to keep the boat looking clean and tidy as well. Most captains taking as much pride in the appearnce of their boat and the boat’s crew as the crew themselves.

There were four of us in the fore-castle all about of a size and all young fellows who were chosen with one of the oldest apprentices for coxwain, and as soon as she was ready the Old Man came over the side and we pulled him ashore to see his consignees.

On getting close in we found a large commodious wharf or dock built out into the Bay for the distance of about a quarter of a mile, and then extended at right angles north for about half that distance forming a sort of breakwater or protection from the roll of the sea coming in from the Bay, making a sort of harbor for a large number of shore boats, and a safe place for ships boats to tie up to on coming ashore, this wharf or dock being called and known as the mole.

The Old Man went ashore, he having given strict orders for some one to stay by the boat all the time so as not to lose anything out of the boat for it is no unusual sight to see every day after breakfast, from fifty to seventy-five ship’s boats tied to the mole and the crews all of them are not honest, and if the crew of some ship’s boat should stroll away leaving her unprotected, when they come back they would most likely find something missing. It might be a pair of row locks or an oar or two or else the tiller with a fancy pair of tiller ropes that some one had spent a week or more at sea making, covered with canvas and painted, and fancy sailor knots, Turk’s heads and Man Rope knots; sometimes they were only taken for a joke and returned, but often they are stolen and kept. The Old Man knew this and did not want his boat left without a guard.

The Old Man stayed ashore all day leaving us on the mole studying the motley crowds that swarmed the mole from morning until night.

What English speaking people we saw belonged to some of the vessels in the harbor, for the English speaking residents are all in business in the city, mostly Americans, but the throngs on the mole are mostly Cholos as the half breed natives are called, all speaking Spanish, some show the Indian origin and some the Negro.

For three days we went to shore regularly after breakfast, staying there all day and taking the Old Man off again at night, he then seemed to have perfected his arrangements for his load of guano; one of the quarter boats was got into the water and sent ashore for empty bags; some of our men had been here before and knew the whole routine we had to go through for we learned that these bags were to be filled with guano and stowed level all over the ship’s bottom as we took out her stone ballast so that by the time the ballast was all thrown overboard she would be re-ballasted with guano.

After getting the bags on board the Old Man wanted a crew of guano trimmers to take down to the Islands to trim our load for the reason that Europeans could not stand to go in the ship’s hold and trim until they were gradually seasoned to it on account of the large amount of amonia in the guano; the trimmers generally being the native Cholos, although in the crew we got there was one old Scotchman and a Belgian who had worked long enough at trimming to get accustomed to the strong smell that will start the blood from the eyes, nose and ears of a man going into a ship’s hold loading guano who is not seasoned to it.

The day our Cholos came aboard there was some lively skirmishing done on deck for a short time. They came off in a shore boat and as they came over the side from their actions it was evident that most of them were drunk. There is one boss or leader among these trimmers who has charge of the work to see that it is done right and is also supposed to keep his men under some sort of discipline, and by them he is styled El Capitaino.

The account of the fracas we learned from the crew when we came aboard at night for we were ashore at the time.

At the time the Cholos came alongside some of our crew were aloft at work and some at work in the tween decks; the Mate was walking forward of the cabin on the main deck watching the Cholos climbing over the side and piling the bags and bundles containing their clothes in a heap by the main mast where they sat talking and quarreling among themselves for a while. The Mate went over to them and told the Captain of the gang to move their dunnage down the tween decks away forward in the eyes of the vessel. The man was chock full of aquadente and felt like treating the mate to a drink, for opening his clothes-bag and taking out a large bottle of aquadente offered it to the mate to drink. He took the bottle from the man’s hand and threw it overboard. This seemed to enrage the man who drew his knife and attacked the mate who by good fortune was standing by the main capstan. He grabbed a capstan bar and knocked the man down, when every Cholo of the gang joined in the fight and it would have fared hard with the mate but just as they were closing on him the second mate hearing the scuffle and cries on deck brought all the men with him who were working in the tween decks and at the same time the men from aloft struck the deck too and with handspikes and heavers went for the Cholos and in a few minutes half of their number were crippled on deck and the rest overboard.

There were seven of them in the water; that seemed to sober them up. They swan around the vessel for a while resting some by the rudder and sometimes by the chain and bobstays, then they would swim awhile again and cursing in Spanish; finally they began to find a little English and begged the mate to let them come aboard. Their Captain by this time had come round and did not feel so much like fighting. The mate told him if he would promise to keep quiet and lie down and get sober he would let the men who were in the water come aboard the ship and they were only too glad to make that promise; but before letting one of them below he made the Cholos give up their knives and open their bags and take out the aquadente they had and throw it over-board. When we came aboard that night the Cholos were all sleeping below, those that could sleep for pain.

That night the anchor watch had strict orders to keep a watch on the Cholos during the night in case they attempted any retaliation for the rough usage they had received, but they did not show themselves on deck before noon next day.

We made the discovery this morning that two of our own were missing, two Frenchmen who shipped from the boarding house with me. On inquiry it was found out that one of them who went by the name of Tom, had the watch from two o’clock until four, when he called the cook at that time broad daylight, and how they got away was a mystery we did not find out for over a month and why they left was as much of a puzzle for a better ship for living and times was not in Callao at that time, and as for wages, we were getting 6#, equal of $30 per month and all that was being paid out in Callao for either trimming guano or for sailors was $20 per month.

The day after the fight two of the Cholos were sent ashore, they were hurt too bad to go to the Islands. While we were ashore this day two men came down on the mole looking for the ‘Eliza’s’ boat saying they were shipped to trim guano and the Old Man had sent them down for us to take them and their dunnage off to the ship. One of these men must have been a strong, powerful man when young, for his hair and bushy whiskers were now white as snow and he and his companion were going out to the Islands to labor at trimming, but after I got better acquainted with old Joe Day, for that was his name, I was surprised at anything he did. Pulling them off to the ship we told them about the trouble the Cholos had got into and about the Mate throwing the bottles of aquedente overboard. ‘I hope,’ said he, ‘we are not going aboard of a temperance ship?’. I told him there was no danger of that as we got grog three times a day. That news brightened the old fellow’s countenance up some.

The following morning at daybreak ‘Man the windlass’ was the boatswain’s order and in quick order every man was out of his bunk and hammock and on deck, windlass brakes shipped and to the lively tune of a working song the chain came in rapidly and as soon as the chain was up and down canvas was made on the ship and the anchor broke ground the ‘Eliza’ was under way for the Chincha Islands.

We stood out of the Bay on the port tack, standing out to sea for two days before we went round and stood in again. We had about 150 miles to beat dead to windward against the South-east trade winds. They were not very strong so we did not make much headway.

The fourth day out from Calloa we were standing off shore on the port tack not going more than five or six knots an hour.

The starboard watch was on deck from eight o’clock until noon, the watch on deck was mostly to work aloft and around the decks, but the man Hall, who was kept mostly at light work, he was at work down in the tween decks with a boy to help him marling the foot of one of the courses, I think it was the fore-sail.

Hearing a queer kind of noise in the lower hold he and the boy lifted off one Or the tween decks hatches to see what was wrong and as he said it his heart almost stopped beating for the hold appeared to be nearly half full of water, the stone ballast was about four feet high in the hold and on top of that was a large hog pen that had been used on the passage out from London to Adelaide, but having no hogs leaving Adelaide the empty pen had been sent down below on to the ballast, and here was the hog pen floating about over the top of the ballast.

Hall lost no time in getting on deck and telling the second mate. The watch on deck were taken below and all the tween deck hatches taken off and a man sent down below who reported over two feet of water on top of the ballast. This was a surprise for the ‘Eliza’ had been almost perfectly tight. All hands were called to rig the pumps, and she had splendid pumps one abaft the main mast and one forward of the fore mast, twelve men forward and twelve men at the after pump, six men pumping while the other six rested. For a while we did not seem to gain much on the water, the mate and carpenter were down below all the time watching the water to see if we gained on it and when the mate came on deck after more than an hour’s pumping, we had only lowered the water one inch, showing that we had a big leak somewhere.

The weather however was splendid and we made a long stretch off the land and on our standing in to the land again daylight of the seventh day from Calloa showed the North Island about two points on our port bow and not more than ten miles distant, and as we hauled up closer to the Island and began to make out the shipping at anchor, I could form some idea of the immense amount of traffic carried on from these islands for there seemed to be a forest of masts and the closer we got to them the more vessels we could see, for not only were they lying so close as to barely have room to swing to their anchors at the North Island, but they also lay just as thick in between the North and Middle Islands.

We were no sooner to anchor than we began to receive visits from ships lying there and among them were the captains of the ships ‘Kate’ and ‘George Marshall’ two ships belonging to the same employ as the ‘Eliza’, and as they learned the condition we were in, their boats were sent back to their ships for men to relieve us at the pumps, and we needed the help, for more than two days and nights we had stood by the pumps and had not reduced the water in the hold below the top of the ballast when some of the men had to be taken away to take in sail and range chain and get the anchors over the side ready for coming to anchor.

As neither the ‘Kate’ nor ‘Marshall’ had as yet commenced to ballast with guano they could both send men to us to give us assistance at getting the ship pumped out, and it was not until the third day with twelve men pumping night and day that the first suck was got on the pumps; our own crew were then taken below to start finding the leak that evidently was no small one.

We began right forward on both sides of the keelson, throwing the ballast out into the wings so as to get to the limber boards which were taken up and the limber holes cleaned out. We found a good stream of water running aft from the port bilge, but how far up in the bilge we could not find out but kept on digging and when we got aft to the after on the main pumps we found a large leak for the oakum was all out of the garboard seam for nearly two feet, and as soon as the limber board was taken up the water flew almost up to the tween decks.

The carpenter now thought he had found the main leak and a good strip of tarred felt was made ready and a strip of sheet lead, and although there was a tremendous pressure of water, the felt was nailed down in good shape and afterwards the sheet lead. As soon as this was done there was a marked difference in the pumping but she still made plenty of water, it seemed to come both from forward and aft, and we were kept at work taking up the limber boards until we had taken them all up the whole length of the vessel. We could see the water running but could not tell from where it came, we could not hear it and the carpenter concluded there must be several leaks though the main one was found and stopped, so that it was now no trouble to keep her pumped out.

Several days went by, the old man was undecided what to do, the ballast was shoveled back and thrown from the winds to amidship, but no leak could be heard. Finally a council was held by the captains of the three ships in the ‘Eliza’s’ cabin and the decision arrived at was that it would be unwise and unsafe to load the ship for a voyage around Cape Horn in the leaky condition she was then in if it was possible to get her caulked. The old man decided to go to Callao and found out what facilities there were at the place for getting the ship caulked.

There was a small steamer called the ‘Inca’ made two trips a week owned by an American firm of ship chandlers named Grace Brothers who also kept a store ship here at the Islands and two days afterward the Old Man left in the ‘Inca’ for Calloa, telling the mate he would return in her when she came back. But the days passed that the ‘Inca’ ought to have arrived and another week passed and there had been no news from Calloa.

The ‘Inca’ carried most of the mail, although twice a month the mail boats running between Panama and Valparaiso called in at the Islands with mail, freight and passengers.

The Old Man had been away about ten days when the Panama boat was seen heading for the Island, bound South, and as she passed crossing our stern the Old Man was seen on her deck waving his handkerchief. The gig was lowered and we pulled after the mail boat. Instead of dropping her anchor she ran alongside the store ship putting her freight and passengers off on her; so she acted both as store ship and receiving ship for freight.

We got the Old Man and pulled him aboard the ‘Kate’ and while pulling over he told us there had been a revolution taken place in Calloa the day he arrived. The whole of the Navy had revolted against the Government, all but one small gun goat the ‘Ucyali’. As near as he could learn a Enor Bevanco had planned and was at the head of the revolt. The Peruvian navy consisted at that time of two 36 gun frigates the ‘Euperimac’ then in Calloa and the ‘Amazon’ away in Chinese waters, two 10 gun brigs the ‘Valdiva’ and ‘Equador’, both lying at Calloa and the small steamer ‘Ucyali’; she mounted 4 guns.

The ‘Euperimac’ and ‘Amazon’ were steam frigates built in England for the Peruvian Government. The ruling President was Senor Castilia who from what I could learn was very popular with the citizens, with the business classes and with the whole army, being spoken of as a mild ruler and one whose sympathies were more with the lower classes than with the aristocracy, and this had been used as a weapon against him in alienating the allegiance of the fleet, the commander of the ‘Ucyali’ alone remaining true to the Government, and when the Old Man left Callao she was moored for safety at the mole where she could be protected by the guns of the fort. The ‘Inca’ was captured by the boats of the ‘Euperimac’ while passing that ship on her way into the harbor, the Captain of the ‘Inca’ knowing nothing about the revolt of the navy, that having only been accomplished a few hours before the ‘Inca’ rounded San Lorenza and as the ‘Inca’ was flying the Peruvian flag she was made a prize of and all the passengers sent ashore in a coasting schooner that had been captured a short time before.

The Old Man on being set ashore made arrangements with an American named Pierce who owned an old hulk that had been cut down and fitted up with powerful capstans and secured by heavy moorings laid down. This hulk was used for heaving down vessels so as to do any needed repairs to the bottom of vessels. This was the only institute in Calloa for doing ship yard work and from what we gathered from our Captain’s conversation with the Captain of the ‘Kate’, Mr. Pierce had all the work he could attend to keeping a large force of men employed all the time.

While we were on board the ‘Kate’ the ‘Inca’ was sighted heading for the islands, but before she arrived we started for the ‘Eliza’ with the intention of getting under way for Calloa that day, the Captain of the ‘Kate’ promising to send some men to lend a hand at getting our anchors and getting under way.

In the meantime the ‘Inca’ was rapidly nearing the anchorage, and as she came in instead of going along- side the store ship as she usually did she came to anchor close in and right abreast of the residence of the Captain General of the Island and landed several boat loads of what our Old Man took to be marines. The Old Man concluded to wait until morning and find out what was going on ashore, and after dinner we pulled the Old Man over to the ‘Marshall’ and her boat coming along we pulled over to the store ship to find out what was going on.

When we got alongside we found so many boats there from ships to anchor that it was with difficulty we got to the gangway for the Captains to get aboard. We now learned from the boat’s crew alongside of us that the ‘Inca’ had landed the men and taken possession of the Islands for the purpose of collecting the revenue and making prisoners of all the officials of the Islands who would not take the oath of allegiance to the New Government, and leaving new officers on the Island.

Before we left for Calloa we learned that all agreements previously made for guano to stand, but all new contracts for guano to be made with the new officials and revenue collected here.

The ‘Inca’ being attached to the Navy was stationed here to enforce the laws, she having 4 guns mounted. The work of loading vessels having gone right along, the change in the possession of the Islands having been effected quickly and quietly.

Next morning we were early at work heaving in chain and were assisted by two boat crews from the ‘Marshall’ and ‘Kate’ and when the anchor broke ground our canvas was made all at once Man of War style, the two boats going out with us five or six miles to sea and then racing back under sail.

We had a nice run back to Calloa arriving there before dark the next day. We ran past the big ship anchorage and came to anchor less than a cable’s length from the heaving down hulk in seven fathoms of water in what is known as Fisherman’s Bay where all the small coasters and Government launches or lighters are anchored, the Peruvian Government owning a large number of these launches and hiring them to vessels to load with at the Islands, they carrying from five to ten tons. We noticed coming up the Bay a number of Men of War that had arrived here since we went to the Islands. I notices one line of battle ships with double tiers of guns, flying the Brittish flag, and an American sloop of war from whose peak the stars and stripes were proudly blowing out to the breeze. There was also a large French line of battle ships and a Prussian sloop of war or corvette and a small 8 or 10 gun brig flying the pretty flag of Chili. The Brittish ship I afterwards learned was the ‘Monarch’ and the American the ‘John Adams’, I never heard the name of the French or Prussian or Chilian war ships.

After getting to anchor the gig was lowered and we took the Old Man ashore to the ship carpenter and while laying with the boat at the wharf we learned all that could be told about the revolt, from the crews of boats that were here at the time.

The plans of the Revolutionists must have been well kept for the whole fleet with the exception of the ‘Ucyali’ were turned over to Bevanco without a shot being fired or a blow being struck. The ‘Ucyali’ was away up the coast to the northward at Truxillo, the intention being to capture her either by stratagem or by force if necessary when she returned, but learning the state of affairs from the Captain of a coaster outside, her Captain waited for darkness to set in and then ran in close under the land on the north side of the Bay, and at daylight she was safe under the guns of the Fort. The coasting vessels coming in unsuspicious of danger were captured by the boats of the Rebel fleet and levied on for anything they needed, and every night the boats of the fleet were out on cutting out expeditions, the guard boats from the shore watching for them and almost every night the vessels at anchor in the Bay were treated to a naval fight on a small scale between the guard boats and the Men of War boats. When our Old Man came down he told us to go aboard and tell Mr. Marshall that he had rented that old Spanish barque lying at anchor with her top gallant masts down, about a quarter of a mile from among the Government launches and for him to move everything loose out of the ‘Eliza’ to the barque and that he himself, should stay ashore that night, but for us to come off for him next day at noon.

And now work began in earnest. All the ship’s boats were got out and into the water. The ‘Eliza’ carried six boats besides the gig, two quarter boats on davits, three turned bottom up on skids and a large long boat capable of carrying five or six tons of guano. She stood on deck in chocks between the main mast and the carpenter’s room, housed over. She was the boat used in moving everything, all the ship’s store of provisions and most of our fresh water, all the boatswain’s stores of every description.

A whole week was used up before we had everything movable out of her; then the last thing we moved out all our dunnage from the forecastle and all the cook’s cooking utensils and the cook and everything out of the cabin and then we had to move ourselves and fix up quarters in the old barque.

The mate and second mate were to live ashore with the Old Man at the hotel, the third mate going with us on the barque. She was an old fashioned barque of about 300 tons and had been in some trade that she carried passengers in for she had a kind of orlop deck or tween deck that extended from aft to the main hatch and as the forecastle was too small to hold more than half of our crew, part of us who had hammocks hung them on the orlop deck, the third mate, boatswain and carpenter taking the cabin.

After getting settled down in our new quarters and here let me remark the coincidence of the names – the Old Man and the mate were stopping at the Hotel De Lima and the old barque was named the ‘Lima Del Callao’ – but as I said, after getting fairly settled down we now unbent all our sails and moved them into the barque and then rigged in the jibboom and sent down the three royal and top-gallant yards and masts and top-sail yards, the whole of the head stays and royal and top-gallant rigging and back-stays we took over to the barque to be overhauled.

The first smooth time we got the ‘Eliza’ alongside the hulk and rove off tackles and after getting up strong preventer back-stays, took the tackle falls to the capstans and began heaving on both capstans and steady heaving with all the men who could get around the capstans, gradually brought the ‘Eliza’ over on her side heaving the keep partly out of water so as to give the carpenters a chance to get at the garboard streak, and as soon as the falls were made fast a large force of men went to work on her ripping off copper so that the caulkers could get to work.

The copper sheathing was found bad in many places and her seams were also found bad and after the head carpenter and the Old Man had thoroughly looked her over it was determined to caulk her all over and recopper her.

When we heard that, we knew we were in for a long stay at Calloa for it is a job of no small magnitude to caulk and recopper a ship as large as the ‘Eliza’. The work was carried on until too dark to see to drive a nail, when taking everything off her the tackles were slacked up and as the ship righted, for it would not be safe to keep her hove down all night for fear of the wind getting up and sea making.

We were fortunate to yet a few nice still days and the work went along in good shape and so far we had no accidents but the wind freshed up and the sea made and nothing could be done; then came Christmas and a weeks holiday, our caulkers and carpenters were all Peruvians or Cholos and would not work during the Holy week, but they would drink vino blanco and aquadente, play Spanish monte as long as they had a peso left. The Peruvians or rather those of the classes I was brought in contact with are inveterate gamblers; games of chance are run on tables at street corners and on the streets wherever there is room for one to stand and they receive the most patronage Sundays and every week there is a Lottery drawing in Calloa for $1,000; tickets are mostly sold by boys during the week peddled through the streets, in the dance houses, at the railroad station, on the mole, everywhere and at all times the cry can be heard ‘Una mille pesos poi una media’ – the tickets being sold for a media each, about 6 cents, only one number on ticket each week drawing the prize, but some one drew the 1,000 pesos every Sunday morning.

Through one cause or another a month passed before we had one side completed, caulked and coppered up to her bends. On those days that we could heave the ship down and the caulkers could work, our whole crew remained there in case of any accident or to lend a hand at anything wanted from us. Sometimes after heaving the ship down and getting to work nicely, the wind would freshen up causing a swell to set in and it did not require many jumps on the masthead tackles before the order was given to right her up.

The mate got angry at the head carpenter one day for taking his men off the ship’s bottom and giving the orders to right her up. ‘All right’, Mr. Marshall,’ said he ‘If you think there is no danger we will keep right on until the sea gets so high as to wash the oakum away from the caulkers’. I think Mr. Marshall regretted having interfered with the carpenter’s judgement, for about a week afterwards the wind freshened and sea made about one hour before, but the foreman never hinted to the mate that it was putting too much strain on anything, but just before quitting time a crack like a gun shot was heard in the hold; the men were taken off the bottom and the tackles came up, and when she was righted a search in the hold showed the fore mast sprung badly about ten feet up from the keelson, the mast had all been well shored up both in the lower hold and in the tween decks before starting to heave down, but in some unaccountable manner the shore or prop on the port side of the fore mast had fallen out and the extra strain caused for keeping her hove down with the swell that was running was too much for the fore mast after the shore had dropped out. I think after that when the fore-man carpenter said ‘Right the ship up’, there was no objections made.

We did not see much of the Old Man these days, sometimes he would come off and stay all day and then he would not come near for a week. The gig went ashore every morning for the mate and second mate, they eating dinner on the barque and at night taken ashore again. There were no restrictions about our going ashore, the ship’s boats all lay alongside of the barque, hanging to one of the barque’s lower studding sail booms that we had swung out for that purpose but no boats were allowed to land after dark, for the rebel Men of War boats were getting pretty bold; they had cut out several vessels in the last two or three weeks; the last one was a valuable prize.

Living in Calloa was a well known character named or known as old Jack McCarthy, who kept a sailor’s boarding house. He had been there for years, with a reputation that extended to Australia, for I had often heard of old Jack McCarthy in Calloa. Howsoever he had grown rich here and owned a large full rigged brig in the whaling trade. She came in one night after dark and next day her crew went ashore to the boarding house. I do not know if old Jack was a citizen of Peru or not, but the brig next day was flying Peruvian colors. There were only the mate, second mate and cook aboard of her. About two o’clock next morning the man who had the anchor watch (for we kept regular watch at night) called us up to see McCarthy’s brig going away.

She did not lay more than three or four cable lengths from us and we could hear almost every word of command. When we got on deck the fore and main top-sails were on and stay sail and jib, and she was just filling away when one of the guard boats found out what was going on and tried to board her and recapture her. Pistol shots were cracking from both brig and boat as long as we could see or hear them, but there was a nice breeze blowing and getting on more sail were not long leaving the guard boat behind. The officers of the brig keeping no watch had been surprised by a cutting out party from one of the Men of War, and without a man getting hurt captured the brig and got her away safely. We heard next day that she had a full load of sperm oil, having been away over a year. Almost every night there was fighting between the Men of War and the guard boats; but nights that there was a good breeze blowing were the nights they tried to cut vessels out.

About a week after McCarthy’s brig was captured Commodore Bevanco notified the Consuls of the different governments represented in Callao, to have the vessels of their nations they represented move out of the line of shot from the Fort, as he intended to bombard the city and for all foreigners to leave the city or stay at their own peril and risk. That created a commotion in the city as there was a large number of Americans, Germans and other nations represented among the business men of the city whose property was endangered and lives also if they stayed in the city, but the orders were given for all foreign vessels to move their anchorage to the north side of the Bay and leave a clear open space of about two miles wide in range of the Fort.

As the ‘Eliza’ was already on the north side, the order made no change with us, but work went on just the same whenever the weather permitted us to heave down and when we could not heave down we were to work – some overhauling the royal and top-gallant rigging and backstays, some making new sails and some repairing old ones, there was no crowding of work but such a large crew as ours was must have something to do, anchor watch was kept every night, not to look after the old barque so much as to keep a look-out for what was going on around us for reports were flying around every day the ‘Euperimac’ was coming in to shell the city, and all was excitement ashore.

Every morning when we went ashore (for the mate and second mate) we also had to go to market for the day’s fresh meats and vegetables; the streets were full of soldiers but infantry and cavalry, the latter branch of the Peruvian army were a wild looking set with gaudy trappings and long lances, and when they came along they took the whole street in open column, on the trot with sabers and spurs clanking. The large square at the fountain known as the Plaza was surrounded with high buildings belonging to the Government and utilized as barracks for the military and arsenal. No loitering on the streets was allowed, for there was a good deal of lawlessness going on. After dark it was not safe to be on the streets, only the principal street being lighted and those not any too well. A man found dead on the streets in the morning created no inquiry as to how he came there or of his death.

Our cook for a few mornings got some of us out early by giving the alarm that the frigate was coming in, there was a scramble to get on deck to see the firing begin only to find out they had been hoaxed by the cook.

While these exciting times were going on we lost no time that we could work at the vessel, the port side was all caulked and coppered up above her water line, and the topsides on the port side caulked and some few courses on the starboard side of new copper on.

One morning about the middle of February the cook ran along the deck in a hurry calling down the main hatch and into the cabin ‘Hurry up boys, the frigate is alongside sure, no fun this time’; but he had given that alarm so often that no one took any notice of him but he had awakened all hands aft and in a few minutes the sound of escaping steam told us there was something unusual going on and there was a tumbling out of hammocks and getting on deck, and sure enough, the frigate had just passed us. What the object of her captain was in coming right in among a whole fleet of small vessels and launchers we could not tell, it was not yet properly daylight. She passed us about a quarter of a mile and then opened fire on the town. I think that was the first intimation the officials ashore had of her presence, her fire was returned by the little ‘Ucyali’. We all wondered why the guns of the Fort did not open on her.

After firing about ten shots she ceased firing and there appeared to be a fight with small arms going on on her own decks, but all this time the guns of the ‘Ucyali’ were cutting her up and we could see the splinters flying, for by this time daylight had come, her engines were working all the time and we now began to see that she was aground and was doing her best to get off, she had gone in too close and in backing up so as to bring her broadside to bear on the city, her heel grounded hard and before she got clear underneath, her port quarter was shot full of holes by one of the guns of the ‘Ucyali’, the only gun that seemed to do any damage, the others going over her; but after receiving a cutting up of about half an hour she got herself off the bottom and began to steam out again without firing another shot, but the plucky little ‘Ucyali’ that was moored in at the mole, peppered away at her as long as she could bring a gun to bear on the frigate.

When she got abreast of us we found ourselves in close quarters for the guns of the Fort now opened on her too, but the shots from the Fort were all too high, for they not only missed the frigate but passed over our heads on the barque’s deck. As soon as the shots began whistling across our decks I think every man got below in about two minutes, but when everyone began to laugh at the scare, we all got on deck again and by this time the ‘Euperimac’ was going full speed and getting herself our of range as fast as she could.

We could not see that a single shot from the Fort struck the frigate unless it was about her rigging, but a little Spanish brig that lay about half a mile north of us was hit three times by shot from the Fort that must have gone over our decks. We heard afterwards that no one on board of the brig was hurt, with the exceptions of one man who was hurt by a splinter.

The ‘Euperimac’ steamed back to her anchorage having come off second best, everyone spoke in praise of the good shots made by the ‘Ucyali’s’ starboard quarter gun. The shots of the Frigate did some damage ashore to buildings and among the buildings struck was the Hotel De Lima where the Old Man and the mate boarded causing a general stampede out of the hotel, when the walls began tumbling around them though the part struck was in the rear of the hotel and no one hurt.

One shot struck the railroad station across the Lima Road from the hotel, the city of Lima being seven miles from Calloa connected by a short line or railroad.

For about a week the rebels made no demonstration more than the plundering of such coasters as their boats could intercept entering the Bay, but by this time the small vessels had got wary and did not leave until after dark and the same plan was adopted by the inward bound vessels, they would wait until night to run in. One of the brigs was sent to the Islands to assist the little ‘Inca’ to enforce the collection of revenue for guano and to act as protection of her for there had been a project started for the ‘Ucyali’ to run the blockade and capture the ‘Inca’ and trust to good fortune about getting back to Calloa, but the plan had leaked out some way and it was known aboard the frigate and the ‘Valdiva’ was sent to the islands to protect the ‘Inca’.

The frigate’s boat came very near getting a fine American built clipper ship owned here in Calloa by the same firm that owned the ‘Inca’, the Grace Bros. This ship, the ‘Antony Terry’ had a short time previous to the revolt of the navy, arrived with a load of Chinamen to work on the Islands digging guano. The Chinamen had been sent to the Islands on the ‘Inca’ before the revolt of the navy, and a few days after we arrived here from the Islands the ‘Antony Terry’ was moved nearer to shore and when all the foreign vessels were moved over, the ‘Antony Terry’ was one of the outside vessels next to the open space left for the frigate; and taking advantage of a dark night and a nice breeze blowing about a week after the frigate’s attempt to raze the City they concluded to try and cut out the ‘Antony Terry’; two boats succeeded in boarding her and made prisoners of what few men were on board of her; the chain had been unshackled and slipped and the three top- sails loosed but the noise made by the chain topsail sheets running through the iron quarter blocks alarmed the guard boats and before the topsail could be set and the ship begin to move the crews of the three guard boats had boarded her and a hand to hand fight on deck between the guardsmen and the Man of War’s men took place in which the cutting out party was beaten and every man captured that was not killed; in the meantime while the fight was going on the ship being all adrift, her three top-sails loosed but not set, and the chain slipped, drifted foul of a Swedish barque and hung there until daylight when she was cleared and towed in to the mole, and when we went ashore for the officers and provisions, the events of the affair were being talked over by every one on the mole, and there we learned the particulars for though we knew that something unusual was going on by the flashes of the small arms, we were too far off to tell what was going on – we were asking one another and conjecturing all day what would be done to the captured Man of War men, but when we took the officers ashore that night we learned that they had been taken to the Fort and shot without trial or anything in shape of a trial.

For the last two weeks we had very little calm weather so that we could heave the ship down but there had been a good deal of work done; her top sides were caulked all round and the fore mast tongued and banded fourteen feet, having been cut from the foot of the mast in the hold and a new piece put in place of it cutting out the part of the mast that was sprung making the mast as strong as ever. But we now got some calm days and the work of caulking and coppering the starboard side was pushed along as fast as a large force of men could crowd it.

We were eating dinner on deck Sunday noon when a boat came alongside and who should come aboard but French Tom, one of the two men who deserted before we left to the Islands; he had a long story to tell about his adventures after leaving the ‘Eliza’ and we now learned for the first time how he and Jaques the other Frenchman who left with him got ashore. Jaques had been in Calloa before and could talk Spanish having been for some time on the coast when wages were better than they were now, but they had not yet found out what sailor’s wages were on the Coast, – Jaques had the anchor watch from two to four and while talking over their plans for leaving, a small coasting schooner came along with a light breeze, and the idea came into Jaques’ head to swim to her as she passed the ship and they acting on that idea having nothing on but light clothing, went over the side and swam to the schooner boarding her over the bows and their presence was not found out until daylight and the schooner almost to her anchorage. They were landed after eating breakfast. Not wanting to remain in Calloa they started north across the pampas, swimming the river Rimac and were carried half a mile down stream before they got across. That River has the swiftest current of any river I ever bathed in for the River is a great resort for sailors going out Sundays to bathe, -though the Rimac is only a small stream not very wide but the current is so strong that a man can not stand still in it. The River itself cannot be over ten or twelve miles long for it rises in the Andes Mountains a short distance from Lima and that City is only seven miles from Calloa. The two runaways tramped over 150 miles to the northward to Arequipa and there joined a small schooner and made a trip to Paita and Ayacucho at which place Jaque shipped in a Chilian brig bound to Chiloe in the Island of San Carlos, while Tom remained in the schooner and came back to Calloa; he had been here about one week and was going to ship in a large ship belonging to New Castle, England called the ‘William Treat’, to go aboard next day.

He expressed himself as having made one big donkey of himself for leaving a good ship to go on a tramping expedition that he had been on and the miserable living he had been getting in the Peruvian coaster had satisfied him so thoroughly that he did not want any more coasters. Tom stayed to supper with us and when he went ashore he both felt and said that he was sorry for leaving the ‘Eliza’.

The following week we had calm weather most of the time and before Saturday night the caulking was all done and the last sheet of copper nailed on. The Old Man was off to the ship all day and ate dinner for the first time on the old barque and after dinner he and Mr. Marshall were smoking their cigars on the main deck when we came out of the forecastle after eating our dinner; he walked forward to the main mast and said, ‘Now all you fellows that want money come ashore to-night to the Hotel and get it for it will be the last money you will get until we get home’. The Old Man had been very liberal with money during the time we had been here, more so to the part of the crew who had shipped at Adelaide than with those who came out from London in the ship, but there was not a man or boy aboard who did not take the Old Man at his word and go ashore that night and I drew 3# sterling or its equivalent in silver 15 pesos. Most of the crew took in all the fandango houses from that time until Monday morning, some of them straggling aboard as they could get off to the ship, some Saturday night and some Sunday, but all getting aboard by Monday morning. Some of them had sore heads, two of them received some ugly gashes in a row they got into in Jack McCarthy’s dance house; every man of the whole crowd that went ashore that night had lots of experience to relate but no money left. No one but d sailor who has been on just such a jamboree himself can form any conception of the demoralized condition a good many of our crew came aboard in, not all there were, – some of her crew came aboard as sober as they went ashore and with some souvenirs for themselves and friends at home to remind them of their liberty ashore in Calloa. Now although there was grog served out the best kind of old Jamaica run once a day at sea and three times a day in harbor, the ‘Eliza’s’ crew were not by any means a drunken set of men, I never saw the sign of liquor on any of her officers but the Third Mate and he was of so little account in the working of the ship that he never was missed while sleeping off the effects of an over dose of rum he had stolen. But of the ‘Eliza’s’ men or boys before the mast I never knew but one of her men to get more rum than was good for him and that was myself, -the circumstances I will relate further on, but of her boys, the boy Ned was the only one who would drink whenever he got the chance; these remarks refer to while on board the vessel, for the result of their liberty ashore showed the ‘Eliza’s’ crew to be built of pretty much the same material as other sailors. I had however, a little to show after my escapade ashore in the shape of two fine Panama hats and a splendid red silk sash; one of the hats I intended as a present for a schoolmate of mine at home.

Monday morning saw us at work moving back everything from the old barque ‘Lime Del Calloa’ to the ‘Eliza’- and that week was used up in making the transfer and getting our top-gallant and royal masts aloft and the rigging set up. The last week had been a busy one, not a moment thrown away and we enjoyed Sunday in earnest as a rest day, and Monday morning commenced – some sending up royal and top gallant yards, some rigging the jibboom out and some others bending sails, the royals being bent before the yards were sent aloft. Wednesday morning the canvas was all bent and the ‘Eliza’ ready at a moment’s notice to leave again for the Chincha Islands and in better condition than she had been for years.

The Cholo guano trimmers that we took to the Islands with us when we went before, had been paid off with a month’s pay for what work they had done helping us pumping and shoveling ballast while looking for the leak and now another set of trimmers must be shipped, and the following day Captain Loutitt moved his quarters from the Hotel De Lima back on board the old ship again and when we brought him off we found the trimmers aboard and without any more delay the windlass was man’d and as we now had a strong crew with the trimmers, before the anchor was hove short some of our crew were taken to loose and make sail and as the anchor broke ground she filled away on the port tack and the ‘Eliza’ was once more looking out to sea standing out of Calloa Bay for the last time.

It was near dark before we opened outside of San Lorenza, the wind was very light and the boats of one of the Men of War had no trouble in overhauling a small brigantine coming in, flying Peruvian colors that had not wind enough to get away from them.

We stood off for three days, and then went about and the wind favoring us some as we stood in for the land again we brought it to the northern point of Paracca Bay and the North island with all the shipping not over ten miles to windward and before dark we had worked up to the anchorage and let go, but we found deeper water than when we were here before for we now lay in 30 fathoms of water.

We were not long working up to the Islands this time, being less than six days. Next morning the gig was in the water as soon as we were through breakfast and we pulled over to the ‘Kate’ for she had not finished her laying days but expected to go under the chute to load in a few days. The ‘George Marshall’ had been gone to sea over a month, there were more vessels here now than there were when we left to go to Calloa.

The Rebel Commodore Bevanco still held the Islands and his officials were collecting the immense revenues for the sale of the guano. No one could tell when this state of things would end, the loading of vessels went on just the same as before the revolt, there were all kinds of rumors going round, some had it that the Government of Chili was in favor of Senor Bevanco and had promised him aid. There was one circumstance lent color to that rumor, -there were a large number of Chilian vessels here loading and they were getting unusual priviledges.

We found we had 90 laying days before we could load, every ship loading in her turn, there were not less than from 400 to 500 vessels here now at the North and Middle islands.

Most of the American ships preferring to load with launches of which there were plenty to be hired and facilities for loading them at the Middle Islands and for this reason most of the American ships lay at the Middle Islands. There was one big ship chute at the Middle Island but a large number of chutes for boats and launches.

While at the North Island there were only three boat chutes and the big ship chute. I now had an opportunity of going ashore on the Island and seeing the manner of working the guano. In the first place I will try to describe the three islands: Like San Lorenzo in Calloa Bay the Chinchas appear to have been upheavals from the Ocean during some volcanic eruption, on the North Island there are only one or two places where a boat can land on the almost perpendicular rocky side, and where I saw the guano being dug there was a clear face of about 90 feet of guano; this is mined or dug by Chinamen who are brought here under contract to work for a certain length of time for a stated amount of wages; but I do not believe a Chinaman ever fulfilled his contract after landing on these islands, I don’t believe any of them ever lived long enough, for if there is any worse form of slavery than the conditions of these Coolies I do not want to see it. But this was early in 1857 for during the three months we lay there I repeatedly heard of Chinamen throwing themselves over the rocks to end their miserable lives.

The guano when broken down into piles is loaded into tram cars and hauled by Chinamen into large stockades, enclosures built on a steep incline to the edge of the rocky cliffs. In the lower corner of the Mongary as these enclosures where the guano is stored, are called, there is a slide door made opening into the mouth of a strong canvas spout or chute as they are called that are secured firmly to the Mongary, and the man having charge of the slide lets the guano down through the chutes as fast or as slow as may be needed, just on the same plan that vessels are loaded with coal. The mongaries for the boat chutes are not so large and are built on rocks not so high from the water as those where the large ships load. Every vessel that is to load at these islands has her laying days apportioned and must load in her turn; the vessels that are loading themselves with launches have to take their regular turn for a launch load, there is no crowding, -there may be 50 vessels or more loading that way and the launches go to the chutes and lay there; the man in charge of the Mongary has the name of each vessel and when one launch is loaded he calls the ship’s name that shall come under the chute for the next load. Sometimes a vessel will not get more than a single boat load a day, or if many vessels are loading there will be days that every boat at the chutes will not get a load. But the Captains of the mongaries are, I think, men who can be induced to vary a trifle from the regulation rule laid down for them, for I know that the American ship ‘Great Republic’ a far larger vessel than the ‘Eliza’ came to the North Island after we did the second time; she loaded with launches and was away long before us and in less time too than another large clipper ship that was there at the time loading too from the same chutes, that was the ‘Soverign of the Seas’. This was after she was sold by her American owners for she was now flying the Hamburg flag; the ‘Republic’ was a larger ship and still loading with the same process, she was loaded and away in less time than the ‘Sovereign of the Seas’ and this she could not have done if she had received no more favors than other vessels. I think, as Jack expressed it, there was a little handspiking somewhere.

After a ship has completed her laying time and it comes to her turn to load at the chutes, the Government pilot comes aboard and takes charge of her to take her in to the loading berth. As soon as it is known that a ship is going under the chutes a boat’s crew with an officer is sent aboard from each of sometimes a dozen vessels to help get the anchors up which after a ship has laid to anchor for three or four months with two anchors down with from 75 to 100 fathoms of chain out on each anchor and those are twisted and full of turns with swinging, it is sometimes a whole days work to get them up and then the Ship has to be towed by the boats to her moorings at the loading berth. Every ship going under the chutes to load, or going to sea after loading received this gratuitous help from the ships lying here waiting for their loads, and the first thing the boat’s crew does as soon as they are aboard and the boat dropped astern is to respond to a call from the steward to fly aft for grog, and at regular intervals during the work of heaving in chain and getting the anchors up ‘Grog ho!’is called out and generally the boatswain of the ship with a big jug serves out a generous tot of old Jamaica so that instead of making hard work of it getting in the chains and anchors, when a ship is going to load or going to sea it is oftener a picnic. I have seen as many as seventy-five men on a ship on those occasions that did not have more than twenty or twenty- four men of a crew.

After the ship has been towed by the boats to her berth she lays with her head to the East, with her port anchors down and her starboard chain unshackled and carried ashore and shackled to a large iron ring that is made fast to the rocks; there is another anchor laid down by the Peruvian Government on the port quarter and buoyed to which a chain is carried from the vessel, and another chain is now taken from the starboard quarter to the rocks.

The ship can now be hove in close to the rocks if wanted, or hove off from them and lay there for the Pilot will not take a ship in alongside to load unless the water is almost smoothe or as smoothe as it is possible to get it, for there rocks rise up perpendicular from thirty fathoms of water and the swell of the whole South Pacific Ocean is surging against this solid wall of rock so that even in the very calmest kind of weather with not a breathe of wind there is always a surging back and forth under the chutes, and when the Pilot makes his mind up to load the vessel she is hove in and the mouth of the chute taken aboard. The chute is made of the strongest kind of canvas and the mouth being fast to strong iron band with hook on to hook on a tackle from the port side of the ship.

Before the Pilot takes the ship under he first chooses his men out of the crew that he wants to attend the tackle at the mouth of the chute, for the fall of that tackle must never be made fast but kept in hand all the time to veer or haul as needed; as the ship rolls and surges with the swell of the ocean against the rocks the mouth of the chute to be kept over the hatch -these men are told to do nothing else but to watch the chute and veer and haul as needed. And the Pilot also chooses seven men to whom he assigns a number; to the first one he says, ‘I don’t care what your name was before, your name is now Number One, and don’t you forget that number until this ship is loaded’. In like manner he numbers the others up to number seven.

At every fifteen feet distance on the upper side of the chute commencing about twenty feet from the mouth are stout pieces of oak or some other hardwood fastened to the chute with an eye bolt in it; there are seven of these with a line made fast to each eye bolt and rove through a leading block aloft; some of them as high as the top-mast crosstrees but all leading down to the pin rail. The Pilot takes hold of the first one and putting it into the hands of the man he calls Number One, says: ‘Now this is Number One bowline, don’t you forget that’, and to the man Number Two bowline, and so he places the whole seven men, each bowline goes to a separate belaying pin. ‘Now men’, says the Pilot, ‘a great deal depends on your obeying my orders, – now I will drill you a little’. ‘When the guano is running down the chute sometimes there is too much strain on one of those bowlines and to relieve that strain I shall slack some bowlines and haul in on others. Now take the bowlines to the belaying pins’ (After getting the men ready) ‘Now slack away No. One; haul in, No. Three; slack, No. Five; haul in No. 7; slack, No. 4; haul in, No. 6’ – and so he drills them until each man knew and understood his duty assigned to him before he started the guano which he does by a string he holds all the time that jingles a bell at the Mongary. The chute is about four feet square and some idea can be formed of the weight of the guano coming down when it is running where from 1,5GO to 2,00 tons can and are loaded often into a vessel in one day – the ‘Eliza’ when she loaded took aboard 1,800 tons in one day. The system of loading as I have described is as done on the North Island and is worked the same on the Middle Islands; the South Island has very little guano on it and at the time I was there in the ‘Eliza’ there had been none taken from it but on account of there being no vessels there, the Island had become d resort for a large number of seals. The rocky sides of the South Island were not so steep in some places, shelving down to the water’s edge and in other places the continual swash of the seas had worn out a number of caves and sometimes hundreds of seals could be seen basking in the sun on the rocks, -and the Island too, was a great resort for picnic parties and shooting seals. Sometimes parties would be gotten up for a day or two’s visit to Pisco or Paraca over on the main land where there are some extensive plains covered with nitrate of soda covering the ground for miles like snow, and some ancient burying grounds that appeared to have been thoroughly turned over by sailors hunting for mummyfied specimens. The Captain of a Scotch barque belonging to Grenock succeeded in disinterring an almost perfect mummy of a young girl and as he was not ready to load he sent home in another vessel that was ready to leave, burying it up in the guano.

Most of the vessels here have plenty of work for their men to do, overhauling and refitting rigging and sails, after throwing over their ballast and reballasting with guano, those ships that are to be loaded at the ship chutes. Those ships that load with launches are kept busy all the time though there is still a good deal of time in ships that are there from three to four months that the officers hardly know how to find work for all their men-, I think that is one reason why every ship is always willing to send a boat’s crew off to help some other vessel to either get to the chute or get to sea, but one favorite method of getting rid of some of them, especially in good ships where there is no danger of their men running away, is to have some of their crew away every day fishing or on the guano beds hunting for guano bird’s eggs that can be found by the bushel, for these islands are the home of countless numbers of sea birds known as Guano birds that make holes in the guano and make their nests there- I have often taken half a bushel of eggs out of one hole but not all good, and the whole surface of these guano beds are full of these holes.

But the fishing parties are the ones that meet with success, the water surrounding these Islands are literally teeming with fish. It is the fish too that attract the countless number of guano birds for they are fishing all the time and carry ashore to eat, also the seals, those seals make their resort on the South Island, but they come up to the North and Middle Islands fishing. I do not know if the fish are so plentiful all the year round as they were while we lay there, I did not notice these things so much the first time we were here, – before going back to Calloa we were too busy working in the hold hunting for the leak but now it was different, the same crew that was first chosen for the gig were still in her, we were now all dressed alike with white duck pants and blue shirts and panama hats; we were never called on for anything or expected to anything more than keep ourselves and the gig clean and neat, for the Old Man took as much interest in our turn- out as we did ourselves.

There was no work to be done about the ship, she had been thoroughly refitted in Calloa and there were men enough on board to throw overboard the ballast as fast as guano could be obtained to replace it with our long boat, being used for that purpose-she would carry tons and sometime one boat load a day was all that could be got, but every day saw from one to two boat loads of guano ballast come on board and a like amount of gravel ballast thrown overboard. We had several Swedish sailors in the forecastle and one day the boatswain started them making nets, and after they were made, whenever the guano could not be give to us, a fishing party was sent off. I never saw such schools of mackerel and herring also the largest kind of flying fish. Whatever brings the flying fish there in such large numbers I do not know, I never saw one raise out of the water but like the mackerel and herring they must come here to spawn. I can account in no other way for their being so plentiful. The school of mackerel and herring are often so heavy that the water seems to be alive with them. The crews of the boats lying at the guano chutes waiting for their return, to load, often caught large numbers of them with what were known as jigger-lines, a three barbed hook used without bait, being thrown out as far from the boat as possible and then hauled in again quick. So plentiful are the fish that seldom is the line hauled in without hooking from one to two fish, catching them in every conceivable shape, catching some of them by the tail, others by the head, belly or back, just wherever the hook dragged across them for the line could not sink through the dense mass of fish. The ships that had no fishing parties sent out and got about all the fish they could use, caught by the crews of the guano launch while waiting to load, with no other trouble than throwing out their jigger-lines and hauling in fish. But the method we struck to get flying wish was more unique even than the jigger-lines, though we got onto it accidentally.

The last thing done on Saturday night was to pump ship. And while pumping one night the Captain and Mate who were standing on the poop, noticed a large school of fish coming up astern that seemed to be crowding and trying to get into the bilge water, which made a dark colored stream alongside several foot wide. Dropping a piece of wood among them did not seem to scare them. The boy Ned was in the Long Boat baleing her out at the time, and the Mate told him to try if he could not dip some of them into the bucket he was baleing the boat out with. He lowered the bucket in the water slowly so as not to disturb the fish but they swam right along, and as many as could get in swam right into the bucket, and, lifting it up quick he had about a dozen large flying fish, some of them over a foot long. This was the first time we knew there was any flying fish here, for we never saw them rise out of the water.

The flying fish never leave the water unless to escape from some enemy. Their most dreaded enemy at sea is the Dolphin, but here the only enemy to fish besides man were seals. Though we could see them catching fish every day, I never saw any fish leave the water to avoid them, but seals will scatter a school of mackerel or herring about as quick as anything I ever saw. A seal would come up in the midst of a school of those fish with one or two in his mouth and though the water would be fairly alive with fish before he rose among them there would be no fish to be seen then.

I never saw herring or mackerel so plentiful as they were at the Chinchas, and the Eliza was well supplied with fish so long as we lay there, and we carried several barrels of mackerel to sea when we left. The boy Ned got himself into trouble about this time with the Old Man. He had been getting along smoothly with all hands for some time but when he tackled the Old Man he made a mistake. The Boys were sweeping decks one night just as we got alongside, and as the Old Man passed Ned on his way to the Cabin the latter without seeming to do it purposely got the broom between the Old Man’s legs, and if he had not made a lively spring he would have went sprawling on the deck. He turned, and taking Ned by the neck with one hand and a ropes’ end with the other from the pin-rail of the main-rigging, one of the main-royal clew-lines or bunt lines; it was a small rope but he used it for three or four minutes on Ned’s quarters in a way to make him squirm and wriggle, but not until the Old Man was about out of wind did he let up. Then Ned found tongue and the cockney slang came out of the boy’s mouth at a great rate, and he wound up telling the Old Man that ‘If there was a Man-of-War there he would not dare flog a boy the way he had him’. The Old Man turned to the steward who stood close by, and told him to stop Ned’s grog until he got orders from him, for the boy had been allowed his grog since our first arrival in Calloa.

There were quite a number of ships here the Captains of which had their wives and some of them with daughters. The ladies were the promoters of almost all the picnics and excursions, and every week or so they would get up a ball. And I think some of those ladies enjoyed their stay at the Chinchas as much as anyone, for they had a continual round of balls and evening parties at night, and picnic parties to the south island or mainland. There were two ships lying at the North Island, the Glascow ship ‘Echo’, and the London ship ‘Corilanus’, the wives and daughters of their captains were the moving spirits of all the balls and dances. They were both large ships with plenty of room on the main deck for dancing and with awning and stretchers overhead to keep off the heavy dew that falls every night, and lanterns hung all over the decks and to lively music from both the fiddle and piano, dancing was carried on aboard both those two ships until long after midnight.

There was an American ship belonging to Baltimore called ‘James Cheston’ came in one Sunday morning, when we had been here some two months, and came to anchor about a quarter of a mile from us. The following morning the cook, who was the only one on deck as it was quite early yet, heard sounds of quarreling on her decks. And after breakfast when we took the Old Man over to the store ship we heard that the Mate of the ‘Cheston’ had killed a man aboard of her.

The store ship was a general rendevous For the captains of the different vessels, congregating to discuss passing events and to learn the News. The only mail boat that came here was the half monthly mail boat, running between Panama and Valpariso, although News from the outside world was brought in every few days by vessels coming here to load, and by such arrivals from Calloa we heard as often as once or twice a week from that City, and learned that the rebel Men-of-War had made no further demonstration against the city after we left.

The foreign Men-Of-War occasionally run up to the Islands to see that nothing was interfering with the interests of their own merchant marine. The french Line- of-Battle-Ship I saw at anchor in Calloa bay I afterwards saw at the Islands, LeTowlon. Very seldom were the islands without some foreign naval war ship of some naval power or other, but there did not happen to be an American Man-of-War here at the time the man was killed on board the ‘James Cheston’; and if it was known on board the Peruvian Brig there was no notice taken of it.

At the store ship we heard all the current news from both the North and Middle Islands, as there were seldom less than forty boats there at all times, hanging along side from as many different ships. The Mate of the ‘James Cheston’ had disappeared, and it was not known whether he had gone over to the mainland or was concealed aboard some other American ship. There had been no departure of any American ships since the killing of the man. There were at the North Island about ten or twelve, and at the middle island some twenty or thirty American ships, and it was supposed that he was aboard some of these ships.

About two weeks had passed after the tragedy on the ‘James Cheston’ when one morning three vessels were seen working up for the island. And the square yards and white sails of one proclaimed her to be an American Man- of-War, and after two or three tacks brought in to windward of the anchorage. They were the English Line- of-Battle-Ship ‘Monarch’, and the schooner ‘Dolphin’ tender to the ‘Monarch’and the ‘Sloop of War’ ‘John Adams’ of the U.S.N. They had all worked up from Calloa together.

As the ‘Monarch’ one of the old-fashioned, three decked, with yards braced sharp up, and with every stitch of her well set canvas drawing full, and eating right into the wind, tried to work herself up to her anchorage without going in stays again, the Old Man and the Mate were walking the quarter deck, when a thought must have struck the Old Man. He called out for the boy Ned who came running forward not knowing what was wanted of him. ‘Now, boy’ said he, ‘There is a Man-of-War. What are you going to do now? All you wanted was to see a Man-of-War when I ropes’ ended you for tripping me up. Now get your shirt up onto the fore-lift or I will ropes’ end you again’. But Ned had forgotten all about the ropes’ ending he had received from him, and wriggling away from the Old Man ran forward again.

The incident only shows that the Old Man forgot the mischievious tricks of the boy in trying to trip him up with the broom, and joked with him about his seeking redress from a Man-of-War, that being the only course for sailors to get justice done to them in many cases, when they had been ill-used on board of ships, and they cannot get ashore to make complaintiff to the proper authorities.

If there is a Man-of-War about a sailors’ blue shirt tied to the forelift is the unwritten signal for the Man-of-War to send off a boat to investigate what is wrong aboard the ship. But that expedient is only resorted to in a ship where the men cannot get ashore to lay their complaint before the proper authorities. Now that there was a Man-of-War here there was strong hopes expressed that the mate of the ‘James Cheston’ would be caught and brought to answer for his crime; an entirely unprovoked one of brutal murder, striking a man down with a hand spike for not getting out of the forecastle quick enough when called at an early hour in the morning.

A few days after the ‘John Adams’ came to the islands we heard at the store ship that information of the murder had been furnished to the Commander of the ‘John Adams’. And about a week or ten days afterward the Mate was discovered concealed in the Mates’ state room on board the American ship ‘War Eagle’ by a searching party from the Man-of-War. The American ship ‘War Eagle’ being the first to leave since the crime was committed, the ‘War Eagle’ being then under way at the time he was found and taken prisoner aboard the ‘John Adams’ to be sent to the United States to be tried for the crime. I never heard anything more about that case, but I always had an inward feeling that he would have punishment meted out to him even if his own life paid the penalty.

The first vessel arriving here from Callao after the ‘John Adams’ left brought the account of a fearful slaughter of men the night before she left. From all accounts the rebel frigate ‘Emperimac’ must have received recruits from some source or other, for she landed fifteen hundred men one night in Fisherman’s Bay about three miles from the City; and they marched for the City with the intention of capturing it by surprise. But, as is often the case, there were traitors somewhere, for the Commmandante was waiting for them with all the troops that could be got together after dark.

The Plaza is a public square of two or three acres of extent, with a splendid fountain spouting water and falling back into a circular stone basin about in the center of the square. The square is surrounded on all four sides by two story buildings belonging to the Government, and in these buildings were posted soldiers at all the windows and on the tops of their flat roofs. And as the 1500 rebels just at daylight marched into the Plaza expecting to have an easy capture of the place, they found themselves in a death trap, for, at a given signal fire was opened on them from all sides –from windows and housetops– and they were shot down almost to a man.

For a week or two afterwards rumors came to the Islands that insurrections had sprung up in the city, and that the American Consul’s clerk was shot, and the English Consul killed. The ‘Monarch’ and her tender the ‘Dolphin’ left for Callao, and a few days after they were followed by the French Man-of-War ‘LeTowlon’. There were now quite a number of vessels almost loaded, some having loaded themselves. We had been having quite a spell of calm weather so that there had been no delay in loading at the large chute. Almost every day there was a boat and her crew sent to help some vessel away. The ‘Kate’ had gone so that the ‘Eliza’ was the only ship of Marshall and Eldridge fleet left here.

One day a boat crew was sent to help get under way the ‘William Treat’ and just as she was getting under way we were returning from the store ship having a passenger aboard on the person of Captain Ross of the Glascow ship ‘Orkney Lass’. Captain Lowtitt offered to put him aboard the ‘Orkney Lass’ but as they were passing the ‘William Treat’ the Old Man told us to pull alongside of her, and the two Captains went aboard to say goodbye to the Captain and wish him a pleasant voyage home.

While the Captains were aft we had a chat for a few minutes with French Tom, who stood by to cast off our boats painter when we left. Our Old Man looking up at that moment caught Tom’s eye and recognized him. And he said to Capt. Ross, ‘That is one of my run-away sailors, if I wanted to I could stop that fellows wages when he arrives in London, and give him three months in Jail in the bargain’. Capt. Ross now said he was in a quandary about his steward who had taken sick, and he would have to send him back to Calloa in the Panama boat when she went north next time. She would be due in a few days. Said he, ‘Have you any one in the ‘Eliza’ Capt. Lowtitt, you could let me have to take the stewards’ berth for the passage home.’ The Old Man told him that he was still two men short from his regular complement, not having shipped anyone as yet in place of the two frenchmen who had deserted. ‘But’ said he, ‘I have a boy that I think I can let you have, that you can make the passage home with if he is willing to go, and I think he will be. You had better come aboard the ‘Eliza’ and see him yourself.’ So instead of taking Capt. Ross to his own ship we pulled for the ‘Eliza’, and as the two Captains went over the side Mr. Marshall was standing by the gang-way. The Old Man told him to send the boy Ned aft, and the mate called aloft for Ned to lay down and bring his tar bucket along with him. The boy had offended the Mate someway that morning, and he had ordered the Boatswain to start Ned aloft to tar down the three top-mast stays, and to make him ride them down with but a ratline by way of extra punishment, for if Ned could have had the ratline with boatswain’s chair he could have staid aloft all day at that job just as comfortable as reclining in a rocking-chair. The boy had just finished the main-top mast stay when he was called down by the Mate who told him to clean his hands that were all full of tar, and come aft, the Captain wanted to talk with him in the cabin.

As soon as he had taken all the tar off he could with grease, and wiped them with a piece of old guano bagging, he went forward to see what new punishment was in store for him for he never thought for a moment but that the Captain had some new drill laid out for him.

Whatever kind of recommendation the Old Man gave the boy to Capt. Ross I don’t know, but the result of Ned’s visit to the Cabin was soon explained, when he came forward with a broad grin all over his face, saying he had shipped as steward of the ‘Orkney Lass’ at 3 lb. per month, with orders to wash himself clean and change his clothes, pack his dunnage and go right aboard his new ship as soon as he could get ready. In a short time the boy was out on deck with his clothes bag, washed clean and dressed in his best suit of clothes, a pair of white pants, cut Man-of-War fashion, blue navy shirt and short round blue jacket; and as soon as we had the boy and dunnage in the boat Capt. Ross came over the side and we pulled him and his new steward over to the ‘Orkney Lass’ and after the Captain went over the side we gave Ned some advice about attending to his new duties and keeping out of trouble. He bade us a cheery goodbye saying he would meet us in London when we arrived there.

The ‘Orkney Lass’ was the next ship to load at the chute, and a few days afterward she went under the chute and received her load. We had still two weeks of laying time yet. The day the ‘Orkney Lass’ went to sea a boats crew was sent from the ‘Eliza’ to help get her under way, and as all her boats were stowed Capt. Ross asked our Old Man to pull him off to the store ship as he had some business unfinished there. ‘Yes, of course I will,’ answered the Old Man, ‘come right along’. A few minutes after he came over the side and we received the order to ‘let fall’ and ‘give way’ for the store ship.

After getting away from the ship Capt. Ross said ‘What kind of a boy, Capt. Lowtitt, doye ca’ the wee Ned, I think, he is a smart boy, a wee too smart but I will take him down a peg or two before we reach London. ‘Why, what has be been doing now,’ replied Capt. Lowtitt. ‘Why, the i’ther day I went into my state room, and there set me laddie wi’ a bottle o’ me best brandy, just in the act o’ taking it frae his lips. Man, but was no’ I surprised. I just told him to put it back where he got it and if I ever saw him do the likes again, I would flog him within an inch of his life’. Our Old Man Laughted until I thought he would split and then advised Capt. Ross to keep his liquor where the boy could not get at it. By the time we got to the ‘Orney Lass’ her anchor was ready to break ground and her canvas all set.

There must have been seventy-five men aboard assisting them to get under way, and with a fresh breeze the ‘Orkney Lass’ with yards braced up sharp, on the port tack and every stitch of her canvas drawing in, stood out to sea with about twenty-four boats towing astern and after towing out to sea for five or six miles. The ‘Goodbyes’ were all spoken and with many a wish for a pleasant voyage around Cape Horn the ‘Orkney Lass’ was left to pursue her long, lonely journey to London.

As soon as the boats were cu,t loose from the ship those who had sails set their masts and made sail for a race back to the harbor and those who were not fitted for sailing set out with a long easy stroke to pull in and try who was going to get back to the harbor first. The boats under sail having a fair wind and a nice breeze were not long in leaving the pulling boats astern, of which number the ‘Eliza’s’ boat was one, but she was not the last one to reach her ship.

During the next week there were a number of Ships that finished loading and got away, both English and American ships. Among the American ships that left at this time were the ‘Great Republic’ and the American built ship ‘Sovereign of the Seas’ though she now flew the Hamburg flag, she having been sold to that freeport some time previously. There was also a french ship that left the same day the ‘Great Republic’ did that I thought was as pretty a ship as the eye could see. She was a large full rigged ship of about 1600 to 1800 tons, one of a line all painted white, belonging to Havre. She was the only ship I had seen then painted white and I thought she looked well all white.

I have since that time seen other brigs and barques belonging to that same employ in the East Indies, all handsome vessels and clippers every one of them.

Our day for loading was rapidly drawing near, only four more vessels and then our turn came. The day before we went under the chute we received a visit from Old Joe Day, the old scotchman that shipped to trim the guano at Callao after the wounded cholos were sent to the hospital. When we went back to Calloa he and his partner, who shipped with him, stayed at the islands trimming in different vessels and learned that the ‘Eliza’ was still two men short, the Old Man not having yet shipped anyone to take the place of the two frenchmen who had deserted. And the old fellow while aboard before we shipped for Calloa had spoken about shipping in her for the voyage home, and Mr. Marshall having taken a liking for the Old Sailor promised to speak to the Old Man about it. And now that we were about to be loaded he came off to see if the mate had kept faith with him. Capt. Lowtitt being aboard at the time reminded Mr. Marshall of his promise to Old Joe, and after listening to his yarns about the different vessels he had worked on and his experiences since he had left us, the word was passed for Old Joe to ‘ly aft’ the Old Man wanted to talk with him.

When he came forward he wore a smile all over his face saying, ‘Boys, myself and chum Martin are going with you, and now let me tell you I have been aboard a great many vessels at these islands but the Eliza is the best one all round I have put my foot aboard of’.

The night of the Third of July the Pilot came off to the ship and gave orders to get under the chute the following day. This was short notice, but as we had been expecting that order our anchor had been lifted several days. After the Pilot left the gig was ordered away to make a call for help for next morning; and soon after daylight next morning boats began to arrive, some before we had eaten our breakfast, and by nine o’clock we were alongside the rocks and moored.

As most of our men had assisted at one time or other assisting other boats to get under the chutes each man knew his duties as soon as the Pilot assigned him his station. But the Pilot went through with his drill with them all the same after stationing the men at the bowlines on the guano chute and tackle on the mouth of the chute.

We had a splendid day for loading. There did not appear to be a breath of wind, the water was as smooth as a mill-pond everywhere, except alongside the rocks where there is a continual surging back and forth against the rocks, for the Pacific ocean even in its calmest moods will not bear to be confined. But a calmer or pleasanter day could not have been secured for the ‘Eliza’ to load than that pleasant Fourth of July of 1857. All the American ships we could see lying at the North Island celebrating the national holiday by not working, and a general display of the ‘Stars and Stripes’. But with the ‘Eliza’ there was very little time to look around to see who was celebrating and who was not this was the one day we had been looking ahead to and waiting for for over three months. We had some three hundred tons aboard in bags as ballast to commence with, but before dark that night nearly two thousand tons more of guano was run into her and the ‘Eliza’ drawing 21 feet of water, was loaded. The chute was hauled up ashore and the bowlines let go, but the Pilot concluded to let lay where she was until daylight next morning before hauling her out to her anchorage.

Bright and early next morning we were roused up by the Boatswain’s cherry call, and a running line was run out to a little English brig, and our moorings let go from the shore, our anchors lifted and we commenced hauling out with a large force on the line, equal to a small tug. And while she had a good headway before reaching the brig the spanker and two jibs were run up and she sailed herself to her anchorage, where we let go for the last time on the coast of Peru. The following two days were busy ones. Boats were got into their places and secured, and the water boat came along side and filled all the water tanks and casks, that being always left for the last day. While this was being done the Old Man was getting his affairs at the store ship in shape, and a good supply of boatswain’s stores in the form of new coils of rope, bolts of canvas, tar and paints were obtained. As to provision I do not think she needed any unless vegetables, of which we got plenty of sweet potatoes for the ‘Eliza’ during the whole seven months I was at sea in her on the voyage from Adelaide to Calloa and from the Islands to London, we had -enough of canned fresh meat and preserved potatoes, that she brought out from England with her, to serve those two articles to the crew twice a week. After receiving our sea stores aboard, top gallant and royal yards were crossed and sails bent, for during the whole time we lay at the islands, we lay there with nothing higher than the three top-gallant sail yards.

The seventh of July, however, saw the ‘Eliza’ ready for sea and with the aid of from fifty to sixty men from other ships, besides our own crew, we were under way with every sail set like a board in about as snort a time as a man-of-war could have got away in and they were a merry jovial crowd that towed out with us for five of six miles to sea, and many were the good wishes we received from them as they went over the side to return to their own vessels, wishing us a safe and pleasant voyage home.