No sign, however, of boat or pilot was seen; and after
running close in several times, the ensign was set at the
mizzen-peak, union down in distress. But it was of no avail.
Attributing to Wilson this unaccountable remissness on the part of
those ashore, Jermin, quite enraged, now determined to stand boldly
in upon his own responsibility; trusting solely to what he remembered
of the harbour on a visit there many years previous.
This resolution was characteristic. Even with a competent pilot,
Papeetee Bay, is considered a ticklish, one to enter. Formed by a
bold sweep of the shore, it is protected seaward by the coral reef,
upon which the rollers break with great violence. After stretching
across the bay, the barrier extends on toward Point Venus, in the
district of Matavia, eight or nine miles distant. Here there is an
opening, by which ships enter, and glide down the smooth, deep canal,
between the reef and the shore, to the harbour. But, by seamen
generally, the leeward entrance is preferred, as the wind is
extremely variable inside the reef. This latter entrance is a break in
the barrier directly facing the bay and village of Papeetee. It is
very narrow; and from the baffling winds, currents, and sunken rocks,
ships now and then grate their keels against the coral.
But the mate was not to be daunted; so, stationing what men he had at
the braces, he sprang upon the bulwarks, and, bidding everybody keep
wide awake, ordered the helm up. In a few moments, we were running
in. Being toward noon, the wind was fast leaving us, and, by the time
the breakers were roaring on either hand, little more than
steerage-way was left. But on we glided - smoothly and deftly; avoiding
the green, darkling objects here and there strewn in our path; Jermin
occasionally looking down in the water, and then about him, with the
utmost calmness, and not a word spoken. Just fanned along thus, it
was not many minutes ere we were past all danger, and floated into
the placid basin within. This was the cleverest specimen of his
seamanship that he ever gave us.
As we held on toward the frigate and shipping, a canoe, coming out
from among them, approached. In it were a boy and an old man - both
islanders; the former nearly naked, and the latter dressed in an old
naval frock-coat. Both were paddling with might and main; the old
man, once in a while, tearing his paddle out of the water; and, after
rapping his companion over the head, both fell to with fresh vigour.
As they came within hail, the old fellow, springing to his feet and
flourishing his paddle, cut some of the queerest capers; all the
while jabbering something which at first we could not understand.
Presently we made out the following: - "Ah! you pemi, ah! - you
come! - What for you come? - You be fine for come no pilot. - I say, you
hear? - I say, you ita maitui (no good). - You hear? - You no
pilot. - Yes, you d - - me, you no pilot 't all; I d - - you; you
hear?"
This tirade, which showed plainly that, whatever the profane old
rascal was at, he was in right good earnest, produced peals of
laughter from the ship. Upon which, he seemed to get beside himself;
and the boy, who, with suspended paddle, was staring about him,
received a sound box over the head, which set him to work in a
twinkling, and brought the canoe quite near. The orator now opening
afresh, it turned out that his vehement rhetoric was all addressed to
the mate, still standing conspicuously on the bulwarks.
But Jermin was in no humour for nonsense; so, with a sailor's
blessing, he ordered him off. The old fellow then flew into a regular
frenzy, cursing and swearing worse than any civilized being I ever
heard.
"You sabbee me?" he shouted. "You know me, ah? Well; me Jim, me
pilot - been pilot now long time."
"Ay," cried Jermin, quite surprised, as indeed we all were, "you are
the pilot, then, you old pagan. Why didn't you come off before this?"
"Ah! me scibbee, - me know - you piratee (pirate) - see you long time,
but no me come - I sabbee you - you ita maitai nuee (superlatively
bad)."
"Paddle away with ye," roared Jermin, in a rage; "be off! or I'll dart
a harpoon at ye!"
But, instead of obeying the order, Jim, seizing his paddle, darted the
canoe right up to the gangway, and, in two bounds, stood on deck.
Pulling a greasy silk handkerchief still lower over his brow, and
improving the sit of his frock-coat with a vigorous jerk, he then
strode up to the mate; and, in a more flowery style than ever, gave
him to understand that the redoubtable "Jim," himself, was before
him; that the ship was his until the anchor was down; and he should
like to hear what anyone had to say to it.
As there now seemed little doubt that he was all he claimed to be, the
Julia was at last surrendered.
Our gentleman now proceeded to bring us to an anchor, jumping up
between the knight-heads, and bawling out "Luff! luff! keepy off!
leeepy off!" and insisting upon each time being respectfully
responded to by the man at the helm. At this time our steerage-way
was almost gone; and yet, in giving his orders, the passionate old
man made as much fuss as a white squall aboard the Flying Dutchman.
Jim turned out to be the regular pilot of the harbour; a post, be it
known, of no small profit; and, in his eyes, at least, invested with
immense importance. Our unceremonious entrance, therefore, was
regarded as highly insulting, and tending to depreciate both the
dignity and lucrativeness of his office.
