Ch. (2)

Arriving in town, we hired another paddle horse, and taking a trail through the coast range Mts. Arrive at out destination the second afternoon fresh and full of pep. Being at the time 20 years old in fact I found that with only one exception, no one over 22 years. I find lot of husky robust fellows ready for any emergency and a good natured lot as well. I found a camp yet unorganized, waiting for my friend and I which made up the complete crew. I had never been on the ocean in a small boat, and at first they looked frightfully small and frail to battle with the mighty power of the waves and breakers, especially so when I was told that every night we were to land for camping ashore, by the way, I was chilled and had been since our arrival. What a contrast I found it. Thee days before I was actually suffering with the heat and now, with the cold, and the wind blew continually always fro the west or north-west, but I gradually become acclimated and before two weeks had passes I was enjoying it with all by youthful vigor. Caulking our boats was my first work as a seaman, some experience is needed for this work as I found soon after undertaking the work, but after a fashion I finally did the half of one boat, some 16 ft. Our boats ranged from one 22 foot double-ended one to one 16 ft. flat bottom and a small one, 12 foot keel bottom. The caulking finished, I was to have a try out ride, to try my nerve, I suppose, and try it they did. I was told to get right into the middle of the boat and take my seat with oars in place and pull when the word was given. Now I had never pulled or rowed a boat and I had never given it a thought, but what it was so simple that one needed no instructing. One of the boys was going to initiate me in surfing, as surfing was going to be our principle vacation during our cruise. Every thing being ready and I as the locomotion power they shoved her out into the surf and as soon as the boat was afloat the fellow who was running the initiation program shouted Pull, and I plunged both oars into the water and they plunged so deep, that I could not get any action on them, the handle was about my head and try as I would I could not get any motion on the boat.

Rube was shouting at the top of his voice. Pull, pull or you will swamp us. I for some inquisitive reason looked over my shoulder and what I saw stirred me to quicker action than even Rube’s startled cry of pull, a breaker about 12 to 15 feet away and as large as a small hill, just<ring> starting to comb, was rushing down on us. I knew enough about the situation to know I should hit this wave with as much power as I could command, in order to drive us through it, or it was all day with the initiation. So scrambling and working to get the oar out and pulling with all my strength, at the same time our boat began to mount the coming wave, when I at the very instance got my oar in the position again for the critical moment, which was to take us over the mountain of water, but something happened. I did not realize what at the time unless I had in my frightened strength, broke an oar, but I did know that I saw my heels going over my head as I plunged backward into the bottom of the boat and instantly I was smothered in tons of water, even at this calamity, I caught through a heavy shower of water, the form of Rube being pitched head foremost out and over the side of the boat, then all was dark and a mighty roar, it seemed hours, but really could only have been seconds before I was thrown cleat of the boat, and towards the shore. I sank once more, and on coming up was able to touch bottom, and a minute later I was out on the sand. Rube had been carried out shortly before, but none the worse for our experience except a thorough wetting and a bit short of nerve

But, oh, how cold, my teeth fairly ached, and talking was out of the question, my teeth was chattering at an awful rate.

At the camp, which was only a stone’s throw from the water, I got into any clothing, and, a moderate dose of poison soon put me on my mettle again. Several opinions were discussed as to how the accident occurred. I thinking all the time I had broken an oar, but later when the oars came ashore the were found in good repair, and the opinion of all then, an oar lock or rather my oar had jumped out of a lock, causing our disaster.

It was several days before another attempt was made to put me through the 1 degree again. Meanwhile, I fell for the work of painting the boats. When the painting was done, someone suggested we should name them, but what name and which boat should have such name, caused a long and hot rangle. But we finally came to an agreement. There was 3 girls that some or most of the boys knew, and of coarse their name won. The larger double-ended was names after a young and pretty school teacher “Lizzie Engles”, the middle sized boat was adorned with the name “Anabel”, the little one was “Dora”. To the best of my knowledge, those girls still retained their maiden names, at least there was none of our crew that was lucky enough to change it.

The Cruise…NEXT

On the 15^th of August, with enough provision for three months, we put to sea with out mishap, with all hands who had signed for the trip, except one fellow, who we all believed was forced out of our trip through shear fright. Several days previous, he had been out on the reef fishing with some of the boys and on coming in through the breakers they capsized and he was, or believed he was, all but drowned, and from that day on the would not venture out, and finally most pressing duties called for his presence at home.

The weather was glorious, not a cloud marked the beautiful sky, just shedding her last of the morning stars, and the faint streak of light in the east heralding the coming of one of the most beautiful breaking of day I had ever witnessed. The boat I was assigned to was the long 22 ft. double-ended, and the first one out as it took all of the other boys to help launch her, and she was loaded heavy, as we had all of the provisions, the camping utensils and bedding were carried by the other two boats and were considerably lighter to handle. After making a successful launching and well before the danger line of breaker we lay to, watching the coming of the other two boats. The first one got away in fine style, but the little boat with only two men to handle her, they made at least a half dozen attempts before successfully getting away, but I should in ¾ of an hour, we were all laying alongside of each other preparatory to getting away on our first lap of 65 or 70 miles. My boat carried two oarsman and the steersman. Jack E., who was later elected as captain with full authority as to the sea end and boating. The other two boats only carried two men each, making 7 men in all. Our boat took the lead, but being so heavy loaded, she pulled hard and I being green, we were soon passed by the other two. I would judge that we were about 6 or 7 miles from shore when I felt my feet was wet, but could not think of any way why they should be. I pay very little attention to it, for probably 10 minutes, but on shifting them back again, I put then down in about 6 inches of water. Instantly I called Jack’s attention to it and we immediately started an investigation, all the heavy boxes and snug packing away of other article had to be carefully handled and so piled that the boat would keep an even keel and being very much handicapped but the rolling of the boat, made this work tiresome as well as a bit dangerous. It must have took at least half an hour to locate the leak, but found it came in at the bottom, and our work of replacing the cargo must have sprung a wider leak, as the water actually now spurted up from the bottom as streams as wide and thick as my hand. When I saw this I yelled for a bucket, and while I was bailing furiously, Jack had signaled the other boats, and taking my place at the bucket, directed us to row our boat for shore which we did without and urging. Jack held his own with the incoming water and when about ½ way to shore, another leak opened and with double the amount to handle the water rapidly gain, while I noticed we were gradually sinking, the water was now only 4 inches below the row locks and my head about 2 feet about the water level, I knew if it came to a swim for it I was doomed, as I never could swim over 30 or 40 yards, I began to watch the shoreline and plan on how I could manage to make shore as I has planned to cling to my oar if worse came to worse. Jack was urging and cheering us, by calling to us to pulled with a long steady and strong stroke, and that we are going to <made> I believe “By Golly” the perspiration was now flowing freely from the three of us and I do not think is ever run form my face and body any faster while on the plains and the thermometer at 118° that it was running now. Every thing I noticed was afloat in the boat that could float and that which was too heavy to float was submerged. We neared the shore but with a waterlogged boat it was dragging oh, so slow, we hardly seemed to be moving. The other two boats had came up and passed us. Jack directing them to put for shore with all speed and stand by to assist us as best they could. The nearer our boat settled to the water’s edge the more pressure it seemed to create and by furiously bailing now, it looked as though we had a shadow of a chance of getting in. I remember hear Jack shout, “The boys have landed” and we are going to going into the first swell of the line of breakers. I could not see the shore, my back being toward shore and all my attention now was on the rising water in the boat. I now felt the raising of the boat as she took the first swell and felt her settle into the trough of the next, as the roller became higher and more frequent our boat began to take water over the sides, and instinctively I knew we had reach[ed] the end of our run, for as soon as she rose on the next one, and would plunge down into the wall of the next she was swamped, and I had guessed aright., for when she began to rise on an<d> extra large, she did not take it at the stern and began to allow herself to be sucked into it. I yelled to Jack who’s back was to it, to look out, she was going, he yelled back, take to the water over the side and jump far out. We all seemed to jump at once and the same roar and darkness that I had experienced on my initiatory trip, came over me, and I had a sensation of being carried and rolled over and over under water. My experience in water had been to keep my mouth shut and not fight, and this I did fairly well, but fight I must and did at the same time I knew I was doing wrong, but it seemed I must get on top or my chest and head would burst. At last I could hold no longer and I open my mouth to gasp for air, knowing water was all I would get. When Oh God, how fresh and abundant the good air was. I was on top, but still being tumbled and rolled, and of course could see nothing or hear only the thunderous roar of the surf. At once I was dragged under again I had now my doubt of surviving many more such horrible strain put on me, but this time I was only under a few seconds and up I came, my feet touching assuredly on form bottom. The last time I was thrown down I was on good footing and help was at hand. Jack and Pablo cane through in about the same manner as I had, and with help we were soon on the dry sand reviving. Our boat was still in the surf, being still right side up, but completely submerged. The other boys finally with many attempts got a line on her or her own <paniter>, and she was pulled ashore as far as the water could assist and the unloading of her began.

The Cruise…NEXT

The attempt was again put into operation to start some 6 or 7 days later, with fresh provisions and all boats in good repair, we pulled out to seas one morning at dawn, and you may be very sure that I critically eyed the bottom of our boat for many miles until my interests were attracted to something that was strangely new to me. My trouble for the the first 8 or 10 miles was barking my knuckles on the handle of the oar. I was unable to space the ends and row with any speed or power. For a good many days, about 10 o’clock in the forenoon, my hands although hard, form the late harvest field, began to pain is if blistered. This was a great surprise to me, as my hands had not blistered very easily, at anytime and especially not after the hard work I had previously done. Now with the insides blistered and the skin bruised on the backs and becoming wet as often as they did by my dipping and missing splashing salt water, attempting to row, nearly put me below. I suppose it would be foolish to say that my back began now to ache, until I thought I would have to give up to save my life. But I had a sort of an old bulldog sicktoitiveness inherited from my grandfather, who had never laid down in all his 80 years, regardless of his work, so I would shift my seat and duck into it. But I certainly was suffering. I wonder where we would stop for lunch and how the other fellows, who sat behind me was fairing. By the dip of his oars I imagined he was growing tired. When I was on the point of calling a halt, as my hands were becoming almost to[o] tender to grasp the oar, Jack came forward and asked to spell me a mile or so. That I look about fagged, I spiritly replied, I was as tired as ever, but ravishingly hungry, so while he took my place, I rummaged through the chest, which there was one, in each boat on long pulls, containing a cold lunch. I believe I never enjoyed straight bread and cold meat as I had now. Before I had eaten my sandwich, we pulled up to the other two boats who had stopped to wait our coming and enquire into the welfare of everyone and discuss lunch. I was not the only one tired and hungry. We lay gently swinging with the long smooth glassy swells and ate our well earned lunch. We had now traveled about half our distance and from now on we had considerable of a point to round before we came into the little harbor we were making for. The wind which as a rule spring up early in the P.M. Began now to blow gently from the north-west and increased in strength as we progress. Our progressing became slower and rougher as we were facing directly into it. As we neared Gordo Point, we swung into the coast or beach to avoid the chop out side.

We pulled abreast the point about 4 in the afternoon and the point gave back to us a cross chop which was most difficult to make a progress in. We were at least 1 hour rounding this place. The distance probably was something like 2 miles but we safely rounded it and leaving the chop it now became less difficult to row. We arrives at the landing about 6 o’clock, beaching our boats without an<d> accident. I was thankful beyond measure to step ashore. While some of the boys unloaded the boats others were preparing supper. Just before sundown, we had eaten and made camp and tired was I. Sand makes a very heavy bed and know of nothing as hard as sand to lie on. But this night I never woke, until called for breakfast. I was so sore and stiff the next day I was <allmost> out of commission. The third day we set out down the coast a foot to investigate a lave herd of sea-lions which we had noticed on our way up several days before. It was a tramp of 4 or 5 miles but the walking was good, until we got opposite the point where they had been seen. But now, as we were several hundred feet above the water’s edge the descent was strewn with boulders of all shapes and sizes, a sort of trail lead down which was extremely steep, we carried among us several rifles, and it was no child’s works getting down to the beach. But we be accustomed to roughing it in all <manner> of bad places, at last found ourselves at the bottom of the cliff and within 200 yards of an<d> immense herd of all sizes of these animals.

The males were said to weigh as much as 1 ton, of which we saw several. The rock on which they lay was perhaps 150 yards from shore, flat on the top, over which the waves occasionally broke but on the whole was a excellent place for sun bathing which they seemed to be very fond of. Among the herd were scores of young about the size of an ordinary cow and look a great like one. The old sea-lions are of a tawny color, but the young are coal black and are <rear> on shore until several months old, when the females commence training them in the art of swimming. It is an interesting scene to watch this process. They are helped out to this flat rock by the older ones, when they can swim but, a little and after an effect almost human, a great deal of maneuvering is gone through with getting them up on to the rock. The water is swarming with the young, all eagerly clambering to get up but this feat they can not accomplish along without the aid of either the mother lion or the swells. About every 6 or 7 swell which rolled shoreward, is always much larger than the others and these swells are the ones which carry, if it is extra large. The rocks, now the mothers who are swimming among the young seem to know it is of no use to try, helping up the babies until assisted by the water, so they <swam> and <loiter> until these two or three large swell come and then business commences!

They swim to and from assisting the young over the edge mount up on the rock and a more interesting <proformance> I have never seen. In order to observe this, we had to be cautious as they are very shy and have a <quiet> <and> sharp eye.

Some even saw us as we descended the cliff side. It took time for use to sneak and look to out footing, as well, to get within rifle range of this rookery. The frightened ones quickly slide into the water., but presently returned.

After observing their antics for an hour or more, one of the boys prepared to try a shot at some of the larger males. He met with a strong plea for mercy from the rest of the crowd, but he <insist> so strong for just one shot, that we finally consented to let him try just one. He singled out one very large bull, and his shot was true to the mark. The great yellow monster reared high in the air and barking loudly fell backward into the water, we could see him floundering in a whirlpool of bloody sea foam. He kept this up probably 2 or 3 minutes, then struck straight out to sea, followed by and angry school of males, who scenting the blood followed, and overtaking him, we concluded by the terrific fight we could just see far out at sea, that he was killed by his mates and eaten.

Our shot put to flight every one on the rock and it was at least an hour and a half before they became bold enough to come back. It was now growing late in the afternoon and we were about as hungry as we could be and have pep enough for our return tramp back to camp, so we turn ourselves toward home arriving tired and very hungry, but well paid for our day’s absence.

The Cruise…NEXT