Part 8 (2/2)

In the middle of the night I was awakened by a torrential downpour and by the roar of a heavy gale as it swept over the cliffs high above our heads. Despite the tarpaulins the wet found its way in and soaked us to the skin, so that with daylight we were glad to make preparations for returning to Kiukiang.

The awning we took in, but the las.h.i.+ngs of the tarpaulins which covered the hood were so tightened by moisture that it was impossible to unknot them, and so the structure was left standing.

Starting off under the jib alone with the wind dead astern, it was not until the shelter of the cliffs had been left and return was already impossible that I realised what we were in for.

The gale was a perfect hurricane, before which we flew at a tremendous pace. The further we left the land the higher the swell became, until it suddenly dawned on me that our chances of covering the four or five miles before reaching the creek were not very bright.

I have not been in many tight places, but this certainly was one.

The boatmen had realised our dangerous straits, and failing at the pinch, as I have seen Chinamen do before and since, crouched down with faces blanched to putty and almost too terror-stricken to bail out the water which we s.h.i.+pped in ever-increasing quant.i.ties.

A thick mist of driven spray covered the surface of the lake, and the boat rolled wildly in the waves, which although not very high were short and heavy and hissed as if in a rapid.

We should have been swamped over the stern again and again had it not been for the hood, which more by good fortune than by design I had left standing. The tiller happily was a long one, and by exerting all my strength we kept a fairly straight course, eventually das.h.i.+ng through clouds of driven foam into the creek, though in a half-swamped condition. We had got off scot-free, but it had been touch and go. If the hood and tarpaulins had failed to keep out the seas we should have been p.o.o.ped, and if the jib-sheets had carried away or the rudder become uns.h.i.+pped we should have broached to, when immediate destruction would have been our lot.

The remainder of the journey was simple enough, and in a few hours we were safely back in port.

Both at Hongkong and Shanghai, where the European population numbers several thousands, there is a yacht club, each containing several up-to-date cla.s.ses, ranging from half-raters to fifteen-tonners, and regattas under various conditions are of frequent occurrence. These clubs, as well as the yachts, being practically identical with those in this country, it is unnecessary to enter into details.

At Hongkong the sailing is on a bright, blue sea, whether in the magnificent harbour or amongst the numerous lovely islands, while at Shanghai it is on the muddy waters of the Whangpoo, which, except for the fact that it is the harbour of this thriving settlement, where scores of vessels of all sizes and nationalities ride at anchor or are berthed alongside wharves, is a small and uninteresting river flowing into the estuary of the Yangtse.

From the ancient Portuguese colony of Macao, distant forty miles from Hongkong and celebrated as the home of the poet Camoens, come fleets of fis.h.i.+ng-boats, which, in pursuit of their calling, cruise amongst the islands in the delta of the West River.

These ”Macao junks” are about the best sea-boats and the fastest sailers of all Chinese vessels.

Built on graceful lines, and of light material, they possess the buoyancy of a duck, rarely s.h.i.+pping water even in the heaviest sea, while with two masts carrying well-shaped sails of matting, immense perforated, balanced rudders, and being of light draught, they handle so well that they can turn a complete circle in their own length.

While unable to sail as close to the wind as a yacht, their chief point is in running, when with huge sails set on either side they will tear along at a pace perfectly astounding for craft of their unpretentious build and rig.

During a pleasant two years' sojourn in this colony I sailed a smart little cutter of about one and a half tons, so that I was able to thoroughly test the merits of these junks, and while rather more than holding my own on all points in a light breeze, I could only make a good show in strong winds and rough water when sailing full and by, and was considerably outpaced in running free.

Although these waters are infested with pirates and smugglers, as evidenced by such names as ”Dead Man's Grave,” ”Robbers' Point,”

”Grave Island,” ”Pirates' Creek” and the like, Europeans are but seldom molested, and although generally taking my Winchester as a precautionary measure when going any distance from port, I have spent many delightful days in standing out to sea, sailing through the numerous creeks with which the hinterland is intersected, or in cruising amongst the islands, on which sometimes I would land, and creeping round the rocky sh.o.r.es with my gun would frequently surprise wildfowl feeding amongst the shallow bays and pools.

At other times, in company with a convivial friend, I would get under way in the cool of the evening, and after running out to sea for an hour or so to enjoy the night breezes setting in from the Pacific, and perhaps laying to for a swim, we would return to the lovely bay, and dropping anchor off the Praia Grande dine by moonlight to the strains of the Portuguese military band, which played two or three times weekly either at the Governor's Palace or in the public gardens, both of which overlooked the sea.

When on a trip up the Sikiang or West River from Canton to Wuchow, I observed many junks fitted with what may be described as an adjustable cut-water or bow-board.

These vessels, having great beam and perfectly flat bottoms, would only draw a few inches, and as their provenance was evidently from shallow waters, where neither keels, centre-boards nor lee-boards could be employed, recourse was had to enormous rudders and these cut-waters as a means of hauling a wind, the device apparently answering fairly well.

As far as I could see, a deep groove was cut along the stem, and the bow-board, perhaps three feet in width, was slipped into it and made fast at the top with a las.h.i.+ng.

In beating to windward these cut-waters were in position, but when running free they were uns.h.i.+pped and laid on the foredeck.

Wherever foreigners congregate, but more especially at Shanghai and up the Yangtse, the house-boat, combining comfort, convenience and fair sailing powers, is a favourite means of getting about on shooting trips and picnics, and altogether forms an important feature of the pleasant existence which we lead in the Far East.

The hull usually resembles that of a light-draught yacht, with either a drop-keel or lee-boards, so that shallow creeks may be readily entered.

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