At brace and sheet and halyard, we sung our ropes with a will, and a cheerier crowd of weather-worn, under-fed and half-rested humanity would be hard to find. Man is an adaptable animal, more rugged than the beasts of burden, and cheaper than machinery, and in the lesson taught us on the clean white decks of the Fuller is to be found the remaining hope for the survival of sail. It is cheaper, and with the advent of iron boxes rigged by means of screws, and bolts, and nuts, the sailor of the marling spike days will not be needed. Crews can be recruited, and fed for less than it takes to make steam, and men can be found to sail them, to drive them, as we were driven, and if they, too, are past masters at the art, to lull the crews into a state of contentment, and even happiness, after experiences that would cause a revolt in the worst penitentiary of the land.
When in 154 degrees of west longitude, and 21 degrees north latitude, Captain Nichols up helm and shaped a course direct for the northeast point of the Island of Molokai, the leper island of the Hawaiian group. We made the land just before nightfall. Anchors were got over the bow ready for letting go in case of emergency, and the dipsea lead was placed handy on the fo'c'sle head, the line being carried aft, outside of all gear, to the tub at the taffrail, in which the bulk of it was coiled. A small snatch block on the weather mizzen t'gallant backstay was ready for hauling in should we have to take a cast. The hand lead, or blue pigeon, was coiled in the mizzen chains; I was told by the mate to stand by in case we should have to use it, my schoolship training having made me a good leadsman.
All was excitement on board as we closed in with the land, the good smell of it coming out to us as we raced into the Kaiwi Strait, lying between Molokai and Oahu, upon the southern shore of which Honolulu is situated.
At midnight we were abreast of Koko Head, a peak near the eastern end of Oahu. We put down our helm and hauled our wind ahead, bracing sharp, under easy canvas, on the starboard tack, the ship heading north. Skysails, royals, and flying jib were allowed to hang in their gear, while we hauled up the mains'l, and furled the crojik, at the same time setting the spanker.
At four bells in the midwatch, closing in with the land faster than was comfortable to sailors accustomed to large sea room, we wore ship, and headed her back toward Molokai.
We wore ship again before daybreak in order to hold the weather gauge off Diamond Head, and at the first streak of dawn we squared away and the Fuller was put under full sail as we bore down past Diamond Head for the entrance to Honolulu Harbor.
A whale boat put out from the land carrying the pilot, followed by a wheezy tug of diminutive build. We put down our helm, paid a hawser out over the bow to the tug, and as we horsed up on her the Kanakas started a panic cry on her decks, while the captain on the poop shouted rapid orders to both mates and we let our yards down by the run and swayed up on the courses, manning the clew garnets, clewlines and buntlines in feverish haste.
"Take the lead!" the mate shouted to me, and at a nod from Captain Nichols, I sent the blue pigeon shooting out ahead into the clear blue water of the harbor entrance as we ran down between the barrel and spar buoys that mark the fairway.
"And a half, six!" I felt sand. "Hard bottom!"
The pilot came over to me and looked curious. "No need of this, captain," he said.