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- 2026-01-30T20:48:15.149Z
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- 481
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- nearest land—heave to eight or ten miles off, and send a boat ashore to
trade. The crews manning vessels like these are for the most part
villains of all nations and dyes; picked up in the lawless ports of the
Spanish Main, and among the savages of the islands. Like galley-slaves,
they are only to be governed by scourges and chains. Their officers go
among them with dirk and pistol—concealed, but ready at a grasp.
Not a few of our own crew were men of this stamp; but, riotous at times
as they were, the bluff drunken energies of Jennin were just the thing
to hold them in some sort of noisy subjection. Upon an emergency, he
flew in among them, showering his kicks and cuffs right and left, and
“creating a sensation” in every direction. And as hinted before, they
bore this knock-down authority with great good-humour. A sober,
discreet, dignified officer could have done nothing with them; such a
set would have thrown him and his dignity overboard.
Matters being thus, there was nothing for the ship but to keep the sea.
Nor was the captain without hope that the invalid portion of his crew,
as well as himself, would soon recover; and then there was no telling
what luck in the fishery might yet be in store for us. At any rate, at
the time of my coming aboard, the report was, that Captain Guy was
resolved upon retrieving the past and filling the vessel with oil in
the shortest space possible.
With this intention, we were now shaping our course for Hytyhoo, a
village on the island of St. Christina—one of the Marquesas, and so
named by Mendanna—for the purpose of obtaining eight seamen, who, some
weeks before, had stepped ashore there from the Julia. It was supposed
that, by this time, they must have recreated themselves sufficiently,
and would be glad to return to their duty.
So to Hytyhoo, with all our canvas spread, and coquetting with the
warm, breezy Trades, we bowled along; gliding up and down the long,
slow swells, the bonettas and albicores frolicking round us.
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