White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1929-09-20
CHAPTER XIV
Through a Sea of Floating
Rr;msfnne 70 Fiji

6ulpS was always ldhluS oUOuAo SoPAo
for the munition factories In the
United States. But we also were fully |
aware that sailing in little open
boat from Cook islands to the Fijts
might easily be perilous venture.
Our voyage SO far had gone fairly
smoothly. There had been no hurri-
canes, and we thanked God for that.
But now the weather turned against
us for whole week, and we began to
think we had run across st. Swithin's
day. We had forgotten-if we had
ever known it-that this was the time
when the equinoctial storms broke in
those waters. Had we known 1t, we
never would have headed for the Fijis.
For ten days we sailed through a
drenching downpour, the rainy season.
The sea was choppy. The wind
whipped the spray and the crests of
waves over us in driving sheets. In
our cockleshell, things were afloat, and
It was bitter cold O. nights. We threw
our mattresses overheard. In their
soaked condition they were far worse
to sleep on than the wet planks, and
there was no use keeping them any
longer. When the sun occasionally
shone, our drenched clothes would dry
quickly and stiffen like boards of salt
They rubbed and scratched the skin
off our bodies When they got wet
again, which they promptly did, the
salt would soak into the raw flesh and
inflame it. Our bodies felt as though
they we're on fire. We had no regular
sleep. Instead, man would doze
away suddenly at almost any time.
Even the helmsman would browse off
like that, and, with free rudder, the
boat would veer around crafty.
One morning when dawn came, we
could hardly believe our eyes. The
sea had turned from it's normal blue
to yellow. On scooping up pail of II
we found a scum that we concluded
must be birthstone and ash. We were
sailing through field of birthstone.
For three days we saw from horizon
to horizon this yellowish expanse of
volcanic dust. 1t no doubt came from
some submarine eruption, perhaps the
one we could thank for the tidal wave
that had wrecked the Seeadler. The
waves carried the gritty dust into the
boat. 1t penetrated everything. Every
surface became like sandpaper. Our
skin grew rough and caked with it.
Our blankets were like sandpaper. and
so were our clothes.
AS the voyage grew longer, we had
to be more and more sparing with our
drinking water. The supply began to
run low. We could no longer collect
rain water in our sails. They we're
coated with salt. We tried to wash
them out in the rain, but then the
spray and the waves kept washing In
and kept the sails salty and added a
further sailing to any water we col.
lected. Our supply of fruit that we
had picked up in the Cook islands
ran out now, and about all we had
left vas bareback, not in itself a
thirst-quenching kind of food. Our
gums dried out. and were like rough
iron. We sucked our fingers and
gnawed at our knuckles to bring a
flow of saliva and refresh our burning
mouths
And then came the sailors worst
enemy, scurvy. Our diet of bareback.
lack of exercise, and general hardships
brough: 1t on. Our knees swelled up
so badly that we had to cut our
trousers. The rocking of the boat
Knocked them together or against the
wooden sides, and then the pain was
almost uncomfortable. Our lips we're
black aud broken. Our tongues were
swollen and hard II was as If you
had stone in your mouth. Our gums
became snew white and seemed to re
cede. Our teeth felt as though they
were sticking far out of our Jaws
They hurt constantly and we're loose
and felt as If they we're going to drop
out With these shaking teeth we ate
our bareback. never before knew
how hard bareback was. We had I'm
ending headaches, and 1t seemed as II
something were pressing our eyes right
out Of their sockets We got water
in our legs, and could hardly stand
any more. We had to slide around the
seats to do what had to be done In
navigating the boat In scurvy, the
blood turns to water. first in the legs
and then upward When 1t reaches
the heart you die. Where the blood
Is water the flesh Is white, and you
can see the line of the white creep
slowly up. We wondered who would
be the first-the first to have the line
of white rise to the heart My boys
made marks to show the line clearly
and mark its daily progress upward
It was kind of sport. II was keep
| ing a daily log, log OF death. Par
mien was the youngest Of US, but he
seemed to be on his way to win the
race The line was higher on him
than on the others. He jOked about
1t. There was nothing terrible In IT,
We were all in deep apathy. Oui
brains we're like balls of cotton Moth
ing mattered. certainly not death
Death would come, we thought, as q
relief from these sufferings The pros
pect OF Its arrival became more and
more attractive.
Boys" ! said, "let US take pieces
OF ballast iron and tie them around
our necks. One plunge and in q few
seconds all of our pains will be gone. +"
"Yes. All right" There we're nut
terings of assent.
But Parmien. the youngest, the one
who was nearest death. picked up the
comic volume, Fritz Reuters "Trip to
Constantinuple,' and began to read q
funny story. We all laughed That
| book had eased flilny hard hour he