The surgeon's log, being impressions of the Far East

Chapter I Finding A Ship : Liverpool To Port Said

What started it all : The Pathologist's advice : Concerning " Teetotalers " and others : Liverpool : " Signing on " : The strange behaiaour of the " No. I Chinaman " : The home-sickness of the Mate : Introducing John Bull : The whole art of conversation at sea : The making of a sailor : The smell of the East : The ways of the " Heathen Chinee " : Night in the Mediterranean : The science of weight reduction : Who is " Jock Ferguson " ? : Port Said : Coal, and the Koran pp. 3-39

Chapter II

Night in the Canal : The Ten Commandments : " Belong good Pidgin " Love, engagement-rings, and the Tropical night : Perim and Delilah : The Chinese New Year : An aside on coal fever : The complete art of land-grabbing pp. 43-70

Chapter III Pinang

The pageant of the Orient : 'Rickishaws : An encounter with one of the Lost Legion : The fascination of the half-caste : Concerning Japanese tea-houses : Malay philosophy : The gentle art of piracy : The tragedy of a sampan : Chang Wan Loo and tailoring by lightning : A morning climb : The luxury of the Malay bath ; Women in the Far East : The unexpected behaviour of the Klings : An aside on frock-coats : To the memory of Captain Light

CONTENTS

Chapter IV

At sea again : Malacca, a forgotten city : Singapore, the Pearl of the Orient : The " Sew-sew " woman : Pilgrims and typhoid : The curious behaviour of the " Donkey-man " : The trouble with the German " tramp " : A new use for Stephens' blue-black : The Albatross and the Ancient Mariner : Water-spouts pp. 111-133

Chapter V From Nagasaki To Mogi, And Through The Inland Sea To Kobe

Japan and the cacoeihes scribendi : The whole art of medical inspection : The mystery of the one-and-sixpenny umbrellas : The odd behaviour of the tea-house woman : Concerning cigars : Coaling d la Japonaise : What is " Comshaw " ? : Hissing for courtesy, and other topsy-turvities : The coolie and the flour bags : What it feels like to be arrested : A Japanese interior : Pilots and the Inland Sea pp. 137-172

Chapter VI

KOBE, YOKOHAMA, TOKYO. GOOD-BYE TO JAPAN

Gurio -dealers and the complete mystery of bargaining explained : How " Sono-San " stopped our sight-seeing : The love-charm of Ponta : What happened at the " Yadoya " : The infatuation of the Second Mate : Concerning the English exiles and " God save the King " : The bell of the " Daibutsu " : At sea again : Harpooning a whale : A disquisition on drunken pilots : The last night and the little geisha girls : " Sayonara " pp. 175-217

Chapter VII On The Way To Java

In the Tropics again : OfE the Philippines : The disadvantages of new paint : Opium and coral islands pp. 221-232

viii

CONTENTS

CHAPTER Vin

The approach to the Garden of Eden : Concerning mosquitoes : Jimi, the sampan-man : The Chinaman in Java : On buying sarongs : Betel-chewing and " Latah " : A night invasion by th.e sirens : On krises : The odd behaviour of the " Treacle Man " : The Javanese theatre : Off to Macassar pp. 235-268

Chapter IX

Concerning antimacassars : How the rajah made his exit from this world : In praise of lager : How the Dutch lieutenant spent his furlough : Bargaining for mats : How the Chief succumbed to the fascinations of Yuki : A divarication on Malays, crocodiles, and goats : The invasion of the copra-bug : " Bugis " praus, dried fish, and " hocshu " : Duriens : The arrival of the dealers in pearls : How we left the hides behind pp. 271-298

Chapter X

THE RETURN TO JAVA. SASIARANG. BATAVIA

The fruitless love of the Prince of Boro-Boedor for the daughter of the Lord of Mendoet : The gentle art of shark-fishing : Prickly heat and the " leading lady " : The startling deshabille of the Dutch East Indian lady : An interview with a leper : Cargo-lifting along the coast : How we bathed at Petit Trouville, and what came of it : Weltevreden : The daughter of Wang-Chu : The ordeal of the " Rijst-tavel " : The " horrid memory " of Pieter Elberfelt : "Salamat" pp. 301-332

EPILOGUE 335

IX

LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS

To face page

Dropping the Pilot 12

Tangier 12

03 the Spanish Coast beyond Gibraltar 26 " The Great Statue of Lesseps pointing with Outstretched Arm to

the Canal his Genius had made possible " 26

Port Said, with the Suez Canal Offices 34

Dahabeeyahs at Port Said 34

The Suez Canal 42

" Deservoir, the Last Station before the * Bitter Lakes '" 42

" ' Madame ' was its Name " 48

A Canal Station 48

Riff Pilgrims for Mecca on Board Ship, Suez 54 Rifi Pilgrims having their Heads shaved before landing at Jeddah

for Mecca 66 Jebel Tier, an Island in the Red Sea used as a Post Office during

the Abyssinian War 66 " The Malay is, of all Things, a Philosopher. He squats in the

Warm Sun and chews Betel contentedly " 78

Moat of the Old Fort, Pinang 78

Coolies unloading Cargo 94

" Sew-Sew " woman 94

Malacca under the Dutch 114

" In the Teeth of the N.E. Monsoon " 128

Hong Kong 128 " Nagasaki lay spread out on the Slope of the Mountain before us

—a Mass of Roofs " 138

A Street in Nagasaki 138

Looking down from the Ship into the Coal Lighters at Moji 152

xi

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

To face parje " She saw me in the Act, and immediately demanded a

' Comshaw ' " 152

The Nunobiki Falls at Kobe 168

Hari, Ponta 180

A Corner of the Temple at Shiba, Tokyo 194

The Shiba Temple, Tokyo 194

TravelUng Mendicants 210

Priest at a Temple Gate 210

Chinese Tally Clerks checking Cargo 226

A Catamaran 226

Heaving the Lead going into Soerabaya 240

" Occasionally a Barge would come lumbering down " 240

Chinese Temple, Macassar 256

Roof of the Chinese Temple, Macassar 256

Fishermen's Huts on the Sea-shore, Macassar 272

The " Old Man " and the Chief at Macassar 272

A Bullock Wagon, Macassar 290

A Water-cart, Macassar 290

The " Passer " at Tanjong Priok 312

" Further round two Women were dredging for Crabs " 312

A Wayside Temple 330

A Bamboo Raft going down a Creek, Tanjong Priok 330

For a considerable number of these illustrations I am indebted to the courtesy of my friends, Mr. J. S. Joly, Captain Barber, and Mr. J. Withers.

Xll

Chapter I Finding A Ship : Liverpool To Port Said

What started it all : The Pathologist's advice : Concerning " Teetotalers " and others : Liverpool ; " Signing on " i The strange behaviour of the " No. 1 Chinaman " s The home-sickness of the Mate : Introducing John Bull : The whole art of conversation at sea : The making of a sailor ; The smell of the East i The ways of the " Heathen Chinee " : Night in the Mediterranean s The science of weight reduction : Who is " Jock Ferguson " ? i Port Said 5 Coal, and the Koran

CHAPTER I

When the Pathologist discovered what was the matter with me, I think he felt it more acutely even than I did, for I had had an inkling that something was wrong for weeks before I asked him to overhaul me, and it therefore did not come as so much of a shock to me when he diagnosed what I had already shrewdly guessed.

We had been through a lot of things together, and so the discovery distressed him very much.

" Of course it means you'll have to go away," he said. " I don't know how on earth I'll get along without you."

The Pathologist and I are supposed to share a flat. As a matter of fact the place is dominated by the Pathologist's impedimenta : a microtome, two incubators, bottles of every shape and size — mostly with German labels — flasks, two microscopes under bell- jars, bundles of slides and boxes of coverslips, test-tubes, and Petri dishes, books and monographs, on chairs, on the table, on the floor — anywhere. Any space not occupied by these the Pathologist and I share. I made a firm stand a year previously when he suggested keeping four " control " guinea-pigs in the flat — that I decided was too much.

The day after the examination, when we were sitting over the fire at night, smoking our last pipes, he said :

" Well ! Have you decided anything ? "

" I don't know what to do," I answered.

" What you want," he said sharply, " is to get away from all this sort of thing," waving his arm round. " You want to get clear of this atmosphere of ' wounds and bruises and putrefying sores.' You Want to do nothing but eat, drink, and sleep — in fact, you want to play the complete cow and chew grass. In polite society, I should say go for a ' rest cure,' but you know what I mean."

" But who's going to pay for all this ? " I said dolefully.

" Ass ! It's a ship you want."

It was curious. I had never thought of that, but it was obviously the right thing. I felt my depression melting like mists before the morning sun. Of course, that was it. A ship. I had always wanted a ship, but circumstances had never seemed favourable. So many seemingly important things were ever pressing that the idea, once strong, had gradually faded to the shadow of a dream. Now grim necessity had settled it. The important things seemed somehow to dwindle into nothingness before the spectre we had raised.

A ship. Already my spirits began to revive.

" You've hit it, old man," I said with conviction.

" That's better," he answered with a satisfied smile.

We got a Daily Telegraph, and commenced to go through the list of shipping companies. Tacitly we agreed that only boats going to the Tropics were suitable. A kind of reaction-hilarity took possession of us. The very names of the ports of call were as good as a volume of Kipling on that drear November night. We forgot the rain outside, the sloppy London streets, the taxies, the hooded hansoms, and the motor-'buses crowded with damp humanity. In our minds we were sailing over a moonlit summer sea, along a darkly outlined coast, with palm-trees sharply silhouetted against a sky of palest aquamarine, and the indescribable smell of jungle vegetation coming to us on the land breeze as we hung idly leaning o'er the rail.

*■' Now, which of these should I apply to ? " I said.

" Try them all, and any more you can find," said the Pathologist.

Next morning I went into the City, to find, like Columbus, that I had got into a new world. It was all very strange and different. Imagine some one who has been accustomed to working only with a certain class of mind for years, who has merely to mention his name amongst that class, whereupon he is looked up in the " Directory," labelled, and judged as to capabilities to a nicety — in short, some one whom the expert eye immediately recognises as the correct wheel or rod or lever for a certain position, great or small as the case may be, in the great scientific machinery of London hospital life. Then imagine such a one suddenly finding himself in the position of having to seek a post from some one whose occupation for years has been overseeing bills of lading, thinking of insm-ance risks, watching markets, and discussing rebates with turtle-fed directors. It was like talking to some one in a foreign language.

I was asked was I a teetotaler, could I speak German, what companies had I been in before, had I a Discharge Book, and again was I a teetotaler ? They wanted to know could I organise concerts, did I understand music, could I give references to two people of recognised position in Society, was I a British subject, had I an English qualification, and again was I a teetotaler ? There were no questions as to my scientific abilities — that seemed to be of no consequence — but was I a teetotaler ? All of which gave me furiously to think.

In a vague sort of way I began to feel as though I had descended in the social scale. Apparently ships' surgeons were not drawn from the highest ranks in the profession.

Was I a teetotaler ?

The sum total of the first morning's impressions was distinctly depressing. It seemed there was no great demand for ships' surgeons. One person asked me how much I was prepared to pay for the round trip. I stared at him, and rapidly took my departure. He had my address, however, and next morning I had a letter from him offering me a housemaid's wages, should I care to go. I ignored that letter. Afterwards when I came to know the sea and shipping, I discovered that that company paid no dividend to its deluded shareholders, but supported a baronet and a Jubilee knight in affluence — ■ men who had risen from nothing, and now gave away large sums annually in charity.

Which thing is a mystery.

Another individual seemed to be quite eager to have me. That made me wary. I was beginning to " know the ropes." Inquiries led me to discover it would be part of my duties to vaccinate some thousands of Portuguese immigrants before they could land at certain South American ports. When I inquired how much extra I should get for this, I was told it was all in the day's work. In addition I found out that cases of yellow fever, small-pox, &;c. — anything likely to detain the ship in quarantine — it was suggested, should be signed up as " Malaria," or something else innocuous. In other words, I was to perjure my professional soul, in addition to working overtime, for the wages of a street-scavenger.

This person also asked if I were a teetotaler, but only in a half-hearted sort of way, as if that were too much to expect. I informed him I was a dipsomaniac, and left.

Some companies I went to had no vacancies for months ; others I found required uniforms which would absorb six months' pay, and compelled their surgeons to supply themselves with instruments which may have been used in the time of Nelson, but had been antiquated ever since — instruments which, however, an omniscient Board of Trade still required ships to carry, and the companies had managed somehow or other to squeeze their surgeons into paying for themselves.

Eventually a man I met in one of the offices put me on the right tack.

" Why should you bother with passenger companies at all ? " he said. " What you want is a ship bound East, a ship with no fixed itinerary, which may be away four, six, eight months, whose course is not known once it has discharged its outward-bound cargo. It's got to be a big ship v/ith plenty of space to be comfortable out East, and one belonging to a good company, otherwise the food will be poor. You'll not find such a company in London."

" Where then ? " I said.

" Liverpool's the place ! London's not in it with Liverpool when it comes to shipping ! "

So it was, as the result of much inquiry, several letters, and a hasty personal interview, that one winter's afternoon some weeks later I found myself in Liverpool in response to the following summons : —

" You are hereby appointed surgeon to the s.s. Clytemnestra. The vessel will sail from Liverpool on or about the 12th Jan., and you will please, unless otherwise notified, arrange to attend at the Birkenhead shipping office at 10.30 a.m. on the 10th Jan. to sign articles for the voyage.

"I am, ^c,

" Medical Supt.,

• Liverpool is frankly a jumping-oif place for anywhere, and the people are not ashamed of it. The place lives and moves and has its being in ships and shipping. Everywhere one sees the signs of shipping companies, and all the trams seem to run to the pier -head.

It is impossible to avoid ships and shipping in Liverpool. One might be in London for years and then not discover it was a shipping port ; but in Liverpool every one talks " ship." Half the population in the streets seem to have a rolling gait. In the cafes the pretty waitresses ask what company you belong to when they have seen you twice ; and at the music-halls the " artistes " invariably sing songs purporting to be of the sea as encores.

The sailor is the real king of Liverpool. Everybody in Liverpool loves the sailor, and is only too anxious to show him how to have a good time and spend his money while he is ashore ; and it is he is the great man there till he has spent it.

Then he goes to sea again to earn more.

At the old-fashioned hotel in Birkenhead where I was advised to stop, again the flavour of the sea was very much in evidence. A picture of a full-rigged ship sailing over carefully regulated waves was prominent in the hall. Faded photographic groups of officers in the Mercantile Marine adorned several of the public rooms. Curious shells and corals formed the usual mantel ornaments. I walked into a room which I thought was public, to find I had invaded the den of an old retired sea-captain. Every one knew I was a ship's surgeon, and took a friendly interest in me, which, to one used to the distant service of city caravanseries, was at first almost embarrassing. My pale student complexion and general washed-out appearance, I discovered afterwards, had been put down by them to malaria. They were used to wrecks of men returning from the fever-zones of the Amazon, West Coast, and the Malay Archipelago.

Scotch engineers, Welsh mates, captains of sailing ships, their wives and daughters, made up the hotel's clientele.

Every one and everything was very intimate. The Welsh " boots " and general factotum was a mine of information on all things nautical. I drew upon him continually. The morning after my arrival he gave me minute directions how to find the " Shipping Office " ; but of course I went wrong, and after wandering a devious way amongst dreary-looking buildings, past scrap-heaps of old iron, and broken-down boats, over railway lines, till I thought I was utterly lost, it was a corresponding relief when I suddenly came on a building labelled " Mercantile Marine Office."

There was a crowd of men hanging round outside, several boys, and a decrepit old fellow in uniform, with a Board of Trade badge on the collar of his coat. The lounging crowd of men made way for me, and I found myself in a bare sort of office, with a long counter at one side and a railed-ofE place at the upper end. An American stove stood in the middle of the office, and gave out a feeble wave of heat. All round the walls notices to mariners, warnings, regulations, &c., were stuck up. Two young clerks sat on stools behind the counter, taking no notice of any one, and apparently having some great joke between themselves. Nothing seemed to be going to happen. I walked aimlessly round the room, staring at the notices. A youngish, fair-looking man stood at the stove warming his hands. Our eyes crossed.

" Excuse me, are you the doctor ? " he said.

I confessed.

" Pleased to meet you," he said.

I answered rather uncertainly, not knowing whom I had got.

" First voyage ? " he queried.

Again I confessed, feeling amateur was written all over me.

Just then there was a noise outside, and another man came hurrying in, and went behind the counter. After him the whole crowd strolled leisurely in. The two clerks woke up. One of them yawned. My new acquaintance nodded at the man who had come in.

"That's Mr. Thomas," he said.

I felt my ignorance. Doubtless the remark was illuminating, but I was none the wiser. I liked the look of Mr. Thomas, however. One of the clerks looked over at me.

" Are you the doctor ? "

I admitted it, and he rushed away, and brought a " Medical Register," looked me over, asked my name, looked it up, asked my address, looked that up, looked me over again, and finally appeared to be satisfied. Then he collected a pile of documents together. Every one was now assembled, and at a nod from Mr. Thomas he began to read in a monotonous sing-song voice from the document before him : —

" . . . s.s. Clytemnestra, bound from Liverpool to Yokohama, and {or) any other port or ports within the limits of 72 degs. N. latitude, and 65 degs. S. latitude, trading to or from, as may be required, till the ship 10 arrives at a port, or final port of discharge, in the United Kingdom, or Continent of Europe, between the River Elbe and Brest, for a period not exceeding eighteen months, as the Master may require. . . ."

I was listening intently, but, looking around, saw that no one else was paying the least attention. It was all the same to them v/hether they " signed on " for San Francisco, Sydney, or Shanghai. It was a tvvdce-told tale to them. And truly it mattered little whether they listened or not, for from, the wording it v/as obvious we might legally be sent anywhere a ship could sail.

The sing-song voice seemed to act on them like a soporific. It went on indefinitely, reading more and more rapidly and indistinctly.

Suddenly it stopped ; and then in a natural voice the clerk said :

''■ All members of the crew to be on board before midnight on the 12th Jan."

This seemed to be the part they were waiting for. They all woke up. " Twelve o'clock Saturday night, mates," said some one. The rest nodded.

" Get ready to sign now," said the clerk briskl}^ " Officers first." Some one signed. Then the clerk said :

"You, doctor ! " and pointed to a column. In five seconds I had signed away my liberty for eighteen months, agreed to abide by a mass of regulations I did not understand, and to sail on a ship I had never seen.

]Mr. Thomas appeared suddenly then to become aware of my existence.

" How are you, doctor ? Happy to meet you."

We shook hands cordially, and still I did not know.

Apparently that was all. The long queue were signing as I passed out. I had become a " seaman," a person whom the Board of Trade made elaborate regulations for, passed Acts of Parliament to protect, devised penal codes to punish, and other laws equally stringent to save from the rapacity of " owners."

It was my duty now to report myself to the Liverpool office.

A wooden-faced clerk took my name, asked me to be seated, and telephoned to the department.

Doors opened and shut, people came in and out, clerks popped heads through compartments and answered questions. I watched it all in a detached way. It did not concern me. Presently there was an irruption.

A little wrinkled old Chinaman in full dress of ceremony—black skull-cap, carefully braided queue, wide black alpaca jacket and trousers, and black silk shoes with thick white soles — came into the office and marched straight to one of the compartments. For the first time in my life I heard " pidgin " English. Up to then I had thought it more or less a product of the novelist's imagination ; but here it was in all its native impurity.

" Belong No. 1 Clytemnestlla. I wanchee pleeceman," he said.

The clerk behind the counter smiled.

" All right. No. 1, what for ? "

" Two-thlee piecee men makee talk, lun away alleesame one piecee," he said ver}' earnestly.

The clerk tried to look grave.

" And you want a policeman to keep them from leaving the ship ? "

The No. 1 nodded, and Just then my friend of the morning — Mr. Thomas — came in. He looked at the No. 1 and then at the clerk.

" Vfhat's our No. 1 up to ? " he said.

" Says some of your Chinamen want to break ship, 12 l)i;()PIM.\G I'lIK riLoT

Tlio IMlDt swung down tlic ladder, wnited for the swell tn rise, and drojiped

ne-itly into llie boat" (See p. 18)

y i LIVERPOOL TO PORT SAID

and comes here to ask us to get a policeman to stop

them, Mr. Thomas."

■ The No. 1 nodded in confirmation.

" All right, No. 1 ; pleeceman come to-night. Maskee," said Mr. Thomas.

But the No. 1 was not satisfied with that. He knew if any of his crew escaped he would suffer in pocket ; and when a Chinaman thinks his dollars in danger he is difficult to satisfy. Eventually they had to take him into an inner office and relieve him of all responsibility.

In the meanwhile Mr. Thomas came over to me. " I suppose you're waiting for old Farquharson, Doc. ? " he said.

Then, with the characteristic, naive, ever-present contempt which the man of his hands always has for ': any one or anything pertaining to the art of the scrivener, he added :

I "I hate coming to offices. They're bothering me now about some hides lost at Macassar last voyage. It's annoying when you want to be at home every minute you can before you sail." \ I caught at the last half of his sentence. I " Then we sail together ? " I said. j He laughed. " Of course ! You didn't know then ji that I'm Chief Officer of the ship you've ' signed on ' I for?"

" I'm jolly glad to hear it," I said. He I nodded.

I " Well, since we're on the subject, here's another of [your shipmates, the Chief Engineer," he added as a ! large rubicund figure appeared in the doorway, and I came over smiling to us. ; " Mr. Plalahan — our new Doc."

Mr. Halahan said he was " pleased to meet me "

in a strong Belfast accent that my heart warmed to immediately.

• • • • •

I went on board finally the evening before we sailed. It was close upon midnight, A solitary policeman at the dock gates directed the cabman, pointing to the far-off oblong outline of a shed black against the glare of the great arc lamps beyond.

" They're loading still. Good night, sir ! Thank you ! Pleasant voyage, sir ! "

In the morning I was awakened by a steward tapping at my door. He had brought my morning coffee.

" What time would you like your bath, sir ? Doctor usually has it at seven bells."

" All right. That'll suit me," I said composedl}^ successfully concealing, I hoped, my total ignorance of what " seven bells " meant.

Later, as I stood watchmg the long line of docks that in the morning mist represented England, I heard a voice at my elbow.

" We're leaving God's own country, Doc." It was the Chief Engineer, who had come up from below as soon as we had got clear into the Mersey. He had a piece of " waste " in his hand. An engineer is never quite happy unless he has a piece of " waste " or a " sweat -rag " handy.

" I'm always glad to get back, and I'm always glad to get away again," he said. " Queer, isn't it ! When you're in the East you feel sorry for the poor devils who have to live there, and know they envy you the fact that you soon will be homeward bound. When you've passed the ' Rock ' [Gibraltar] you count every hour till you've sighted England. When you've been home a few days you begin to dread the thought of leaving again so soon, and make up your mind to look out for U a shore billet at once. But you never do take that shore billet. When you've been home a fortnight, and have seen your mother and one or two other people that matter, you begin to feel restless again. You want the sun, the sky, the vivid colours, the long calm days at sea, the quiet of the deck, the regular monotonous sound of the screw — you ache for it all again, you want the Oriental deference you have been accustomed to, you want — you don't know what you want, but you do know you want to get out of England. You laugh at yourself after a few voyages, but it's got into your blood by then, and you can't help yourself. You're ruined for shore life. You'll know all about it when you come back. Doc."

We were leaning on the rail, looking for'ard.

" Just look at Thomas," said Halahan (whom I shall call the "Chief" in future); "he's coming aft now. Everything is wrong with him this morning. Homesick. Young wife. A sailor should never marry."

Certainly Mr. Thomas was in a pessimistic mood. He stopped on his way to us to make some disparaging remark to the bo'sun.