" The
glorious incongruity of the thing tickled me immensely; but I
laughed more heartily still when on going below I was hailed as
"Wot cher, chummy; 'ow yer hoppin' up?" by another barbarian
from the wilds of Spitalfields, who, from the secure shelter of
his cats'-meat round in 'Oxton, had got adrift, and, after being
severely buffeted by tempestuous ill-fortune, had finally found
himself in the comfortable old CHANCE, a haven of rest in the
midst of storms. There were sixteen white men on board the
CHANCE, including the skipper, drawn as usual from various
European and American sources, the rest of her large crew of over
forty all told being made up of Maories and half-breeds. One
common interest united them, making them the jolliest crowd I
ever saw--their devotion to their commander. There was here to
be found no jealousy of the Maories being officers and
harpooners, no black looks or discontented murmuring; all hands
seemed particularly well satisfied with their lot in all its
bearings; so that, although the old tub was malodorous enough to
turn even a pretty strong stomach, it was a pleasure to visit her
cheerful crowd for the sake of their enlivening society.
Of course, under our present circumstances, with the debris of
our late enormous catch filling every available space and loudly
demanding attention, we had little time to spare for ship
visiting.
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