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shouldn't be alive now。 It took a sober man to pull through what followed； as
you will agree when I mention the little fact that only two men did pull
through。 The other man was the heathenat least； that was what I heard
Captain Oudouse call him at the moment I first became aware of the heathen's
existence。 But to come back。
It was at the end of the week； with the whiskey gone； and the pearl buyers
sober； that I happened to glance at the barometer that hung in the cabin
companionway。 Its normal register in the Paumotus was 29。90； and it was quite
customary to see it vacillate between 29。85 and 30。00； or even 30。05； but to
see it as I saw it； down to 29。62； was sufficient to sober the most drunken
pearl buyer that ever incinerated smallpox microbes in Scotch whiskey。
I called Captain Oudouse's attention to it； only to be informed that he had
watched it going down for several hours。 There was little to do； but that
little he did very well； considering the circumstances。 He took off the light
sails； shortened right down to storm canvas； spread life lines； and waited for
the wind。 His mistake lay in what he did after the wind came。 He hove to on
the port tack； which was the right thing to do south of the Equator； ifand
there was the rubIF one were NOT in the direct path of the hurricane。
We were in the direct path。 I could see that by the steady increase of the
wind and the equally steady fall of the barometer。 I wanted him to turn and
run with the wind on the port quarter until the barometer ceased falling； and
then to heave to。 We argued till he was reduced to hysteria； but budge he
would not。 The worst of it was that I could not get the rest of the pearl
buyers to back me up。 Who was I； anyway； to know more about the sea and its
ways than a properly qualified captain？ was what was in their minds； I knew。
Of course； the sea rose with the wind frightfully； and I shall never forget
the first three seas the Petite Jeanne shipped。 She had fallen off； as vessels
do at times when hove to； and the first sea made a clean breach。 The life
lines were only for the strong and well； and little good were they even for
them when the women and children； the bananas and cocoanuts； the pigs and
trade boxes； the sick and the dying； were swept along in a solid； screeching；
groaning mass。
The second sea filled the Petite Jeanne'S decks flush with the rails； and； as
her stern sank down and her bow tossed skyward； all the miserable dunnage of
life and luggage poured aft。 It was a human torrent。 They came head first；
feet first； sidewise； rolling over and over； twisting； squirming； writhing；
and crumpling up。 Now and again one caught a grip on a stanchion or a rope；
but the weight of the bodies behind tore such grips loose。
One man I noticed fetch up； head on and square on； with the starboard bitt。
His head cracked like an egg。 I saw what was coming； sprang on top of the
cabin； and from there into the mainsail itself。 Ah Choon and one of the
Americans tried to follow me； but I was one jump ahead of them。 The American
was swept away and over the stern like a piece of chaff。 Ah Choon caught a
spoke of the wheel； and swung in behind it。 But a strapping Raratonga vahine
（woman）she must have weighed two hundred and fiftybrought up against him；
and got an arm around his neck。 He clutched the kanaka steersman with his
other hand； and just at that moment the schooner flung down to starboard。
The rush of bodies and sea that was coming along the port runway between the
cabin and the rail turned abruptly and poured to starboard。 Away they
wentvahine； Ah Choon； and steersman； and I swear I saw Ah Choon grin at me
with philosophic resignation as he cleared the rail and went under。
The third seathe biggest of the threedid not do so much damage。 By the
time it arrived nearly everybody was in the rigging。 On deck perhaps a dozen
gasping； half…drowned； and half…stunned wretches were rolling about or
attempting to crawl into safety。 They went by the board； as did the wreckage
of the two remaining boats。 The other pearl buyers and myself； between seas；
managed to get about fifteen women and children into the cabin； and battened
down。 Little good it did the poor creatures in the end。
Wind？ Out of all my experience I could not have believed it possible for the
wind to blow as it did。 There is no describing it。 How can one describe a
nightmare？ It was the same way with that wind。 It tore the clothes off our
bodies。 I say TORE THEM OFF； and I mean it。 I am not asking you to believe it。
I am merely telling something that I saw and felt。 There are times when I do
not believe it myself。 I went through it； and that is enough。 One could not
face that wind and live。 It was a monstrous thing； and the most monstrous
thing about it was that it increased and continued to increase。
Imagine countless millions and billions of tons of sand。 Imagine this sand
tearing along at ninety； a hundred； a hundred and twenty； or any other number
of miles per hour。 Imagine； further； this sand to be invisible； impalpable；
yet to retain all the weight and density of sand。 Do all this； and you may get
a vague inkling of what that wind was like。
Perhaps sand is not the right comparison。 Consider it mud； invisible；
impalpable； but heavy as mud。 Nay； it goes beyond that。 Consider every
molecule of air to be a mudbank in itself。 Then try to imagine the
multitudinous impact of mudbanks。 No； it is beyond me。 Language may be
adequate to express the ordinary conditions of life； but it cannot possibly
express any of the conditions of so enormous a blast of wind。 It would have
been better had I stuck by my original intention of not attempting a
description。
I will say this much： The sea； which had risen at first； was beaten down by
that wind。 'more： it seemed as if the whole ocean had been sucked up in the
maw of the hurricane； and hurled on through that portion of space which
previously had been occupied by the air。
Of course； our canvas had gone long before。 But Captain Oudouse had on the
Petite Jeanne something I had never before seen on a South Sea schoonera sea
anchor。 It was a conical canvas bag； the mouth of which was kept open by a
huge loop of iron。 The sea anchor was bridled something like a kite； so that
it bit into the water as a kite bites into the air； but with a difference。 The
sea anchor remained just under the surface of the ocean in a perpendicular
position。 A long line； in turn； connected it with the schooner。 As a result；
the Petite Jeanne rode bow on to the wind and to what sea there was。
The situation really would have been favorable had we not been in the path of
the storm。 True； the wind itself tore our canvas out of the gaskets； jerked
out our topmasts； and made a raffle of our running gear； but still we would
have come through nicely had we not been square in front of the advancing
storm center。 That was what fixed us。 I was in a state of stunned； numbed；
paralyzed collapse from enduring the impact of the wind； and I think I was
just about ready to give up and die when the center smote us。 The blow we
received was an absolute lull。 There was not a breath of air。 The effect on
one was sickening。
Remember that for hours we had been at terrific muscular tension； withstanding
the awful pressure of that wind。 And then； suddenly； the pressure was removed。
I know that I felt as though I was about to expand； to fly apart in all
directions。 It seemed as if every atom composing my body was repelling every
other atom and was on the verge of rushing off irresistibly into space。 But
that lasted only for a moment。 Destruction was upon us。
In the absence of the wind and pressure the sea rose。 It jumped； it leaped； it
soared straight toward the clouds。 Remember； from every point of the compass
that inconceivable wind was blowing in toward the center of calm。 The result
was that the seas sprang up from every point of the com