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Joshua Slocum - Sailing Alone Around The World
was going well, when suddenly a comber rolled over the stern and slopped saucily into the cabin, wetting
the very book I was reading. Evidently it was time to put in a reef, that she might not wallow on her
course.
March 31 the fresh southeast wind had come to stay. The Spray was running under a
single-reefed mainsail, a whole jib, and a flying-jib besides, set on the Vailima bamboo, while I was
reading Stevenson's delightful "Inland Voyage." The sloop was again doing her work smoothly, hardly
rolling at all, but just leaping along among the white horses, a thousand gamboling porpoises keeping her
company on all sides. She was again among her old friends the flying-fish, interesting denizens of the
sea. Shooting out of the waves like arrows, and with outstretched wings, they sailed on the wind in
graceful curves; then falling till again they touched the crest of the waves to wet their delicate wings and
renew the flight. They made merry the livelong day. One of the joyful sights on the ocean of a bright day
is the continual flight of these interesting fish.
One could not be lonely in a sea like this. Moreover, the reading of delightful adventures enhanced the
scene. I was now in the Spray and on the Oise in the Arethusa at one and the same time.
And so the Spray reeled off the miles, showing a good ran every day till April 11, which came
almost before I knew it. Very early that morning I was awakened by that rare bird, the booby, with its
harsh quack, which I recognized at once as a call to go on deck; it was as much as to say, "Skipper,
there's land in sight." I tumbled out quickly, and sure enough, away ahead in the dim twilight, about
twenty miles off, was St. Helena.
My first impulse was to call out, "Oh, what a speck in the sea!" It is in reality nine miles in length and
two thousand eight hundred and twenty-three feet in height. I reached for a bottle of port-wine out of the
locker, and took a long pull from it to the health of my invisible helmsman - the pilot of the Pinta.
CHAPTER XIX
In the isle of Napoleon's exile - Two lectures - A guest in the ghost-room at Plantation House - An
excursion to historic Longwood - Coffee in the husk, and a goat to shell it - The Spray's ill luck
with animals - A prejudice against small dogs - A rat, the Boston spider, and the cannibal cricket -
Ascension Island.
It was about noon when the Spray came to anchor off Jamestown, and "all hands" at once went
ashore to pay respects to his Excellency the governor of the island, Sir R. A. Sterndale. His Excellency,
when I landed, remarked that it was not often, nowadays, that a circumnavigator came his way, and he
cordially welcomed me, and arranged that I should tell about the voyage, first at Garden Hall to the
people of Jamestown, and then at Plantation House - the governor's residence, which is in the hills a mile
or two back - to his Excellency and the officers of the garrison and their friends. Mr. Poole, our worthy
consul, introduced me at the castle, and in the course of his remarks asserted that the sea-serpent was a
Yankee.
Most royally was the crew of the Spray entertained by the governor. I remained at Plantation
House a couple of days, and one of the rooms in the mansion, called the "west room," being haunted, the
butler, by command of his Excellency, put me up in that - like a prince. Indeed, to make sure that no
mistake had been made, his Excellency came later to see that I was in the right room, and to tell me all
about the ghosts he had seen or heard of. He had discovered all but one, and wishing me pleasant dreams,
he hoped I might have the honor of a visit from the unknown one of the west room. For the rest of the
chilly night I kept the candle burning, and often looked from under the blankets, thinking that maybe I
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