The Old Sailor’s Story

Southland Times, Issue 22293, 7 April 1934, Page 18

The Old Sailor’s Story

Highly Commended. “Do tell us a story” begged May of her grand-dad. Her grand-dad was an old sailor who had had many escapes from death. His grand-children loved to hear his stories. “Now be quiet and I shall tell ,you one of how I was lost on an island,” he said. . , “As we were sailing along we spied some small islands with coconut trees growing on them. We decided to get some coconuts as our supply of food was running short. Three sailors and myself put ashore in the long boat. After we had gathered enough coconuts I saw a cave into which I went with my best pal ‘Shorty. When 1 got so far I turned round to find my way out but could not! ‘We must be lost’ said Shorty, ‘the others will go without us, for Captain gave us strict orders not to wander away. After wandering about we saw a light in the distance. When we reached daylight what a sight met our eyes. About thirty natives were seated round a fire, apparently at counsel. We watched with fear, looking about to see what was their subject. At length I saw it. Some yards away were footsteps in the sand, our foot-mark. What were we to do? They_ were fierce natives with curious paintings on their waists. At last I thought of an idea—we would find their camping ground and take a canoe. It was a desperate plan, but something had to be done, for if we were caught they would surely kill us. Late that night I crept out of the cave with Shorty at my heels. We looked about as much as we dared, but failed to see the camp. All next day we lay hiding, planning to find the) camp. Darkness fell, and two canoes were paddled up to the shore. The owners walked round the bc-ach. This was our chance! I said ‘Let’s get away before they come back.’ Setting one canoe adrift we paddled silently away. Far in the distance we could see lights of a ship. We headed for thes*. When morning came the ship was not in sight. Very early, however, one appeared and we signalled and were seen by those on board. When we were taken on board we found . that it was your uncle’s ship. On telling our adventure your uncle said that we had a lucky escape for they were cannibal natives! —3 marks to Cousin Eileen Howden, (14), Mataura Island. Highly Commended. f‘Yes, me lad,” said the old sailor ruminatively, “I seed many a queer thing in me day. That there time we were wrecked off the Indies,” _he paused and puffed his blackened pipe. The lad at his feet coaxed eagerly, “Tell us, do.” “Well,” said the old man,“ when we was sailing for the Indies, we lost our bearings. One night we struck a huge rock which tore a hole in the ship which began to sink rapidly. Fortunately the night was calm and we took to the boats. Imagine our relief when we sighted land after being afloat for two days! “We staggered ashore, almost dead with thirst, only to find that there was no fresh water. However, I saw some coconut trees which I climbed. If the folks wasn’t grateful, lad, no one ever was. . . “The mate had been doing a bit ot exploring and startled us by shouting, ‘Look! a hut. There’s a line with a towel on it.’ “He touched the towel, then started back for it crumbled to dust in his hand. We entered the rude hut. Rats scutted affrightedly across the floor. Dust was thick upon everything. There, carved upon the wall were the words, “John Campbell, Wrecked off the Arabella, 1641.” We raised our caps and went out ot the hut in silence. This explaned the bones we found later on the beach. We spent many a weary month on the island, living, mostly on coconuts and breadfruit which grew abundantly. Words cannot express our delight when we sighted a gaily coloured yacht which picked us up and toox us to Ternate, from which we took a ship to the good old homeland.” “What happened to the ship? Was it ever—?” began the boy. “There, there,” sighed the old sailor, “I must go inside. My rheumatism is troubling me again, “Good-night.” 3 marks to Cousin Enid Cockerell (13), 4 Filleul street. Highly Commended. I came from the country to stay at the sea-side for my school vacation. I was rambling along the sea-shore one day when I came upon an old man, who was sitting on a rock splicing a rope. I thought he was too interesting to pass by, so I climbed up on to the rock beside him. We were talking away as if we had been together for months, when he told me he was an old sailor, and that the one thing he loved was the sea. His two roomed hut was on the beach, so he invited me to come and chat with him inside it to which I gladly said I would. He told me about a number of his early voyages and this is one he told me:— “When I was only a youth, about twenty three, I went on a voyage with the captain to Singapore, where. we exchanged things such as rifles, riflepowder, swords and cutlery for silks, spices, beads and other native things. We noticed on arrival how the natives sat in groups and talked about the whites and this made us grow suspicions. One day a brightly attired girl came to us and told us to. sail away as soon as possible, as the chief her father meant to kill us on the morrow. We thanked her very much and packed up immediately. That night about twelve o’clock when we were leaving in our lifeboat showers of arrows and spears came hurling through the air and splashed on all sides of the boat. We just arrived at the big sailing vessel when a splash behind made us look round and to our horror we saw two or three canoes sailing rapidly towards us. We just hopped onto the vessel with not a minute to spare! Soon however we had left Singapore and were out at sea. A storm arose the second day at sea and we were driven out of our course. The most unfortunate thing, was that the compass was washed away. We tried going by the moon and stars and as luck would have it we reached our destination. The Governor was very pleased too when he saw the exchangements. The following day we went to some islands and purchased as much gold and silver as we could carry and this also went to the Governor who was more pleased than ever. “But, my dear child I have been on far more perilous voyages, than that, so if you come down again, say tomorrow, I will tell you one. Goodbye, my child, goodbye. “Goodbye, Mr Jenkins.”—that was his name.

—3 marks to Cousin Betty Padget, (14), Long Bush.