I sailed once in a
Neapolitan vessel, a whole month, during which time the crew lived on
horse-beans, coarse maccaroni, Sardinian fish, mouldy biscuit, and
griping black wine. Meat they had none. How is it possible for men thus
fed, to fight and wrestle with the billows and terrors of the deep?
We had no ordinary task to get on shore; the ocean was without, but a
sea was within port. The wind increased with such fury, that we
abandoned for the day the idea of landing. We had, however, specie on
board, which it was necessary forthwith to land. Mr. Philips, captain of
the port, and a merchant's clerk, therefore, came alongside with great
difficulty in a Moorish boat, to take on shore the specie; and in it I
embarked. This said barque was the miserable but apt representation of
the by-gone formidable Maroquine navy, which, not many centuries ago,
pushed its audacity to such lengths, that the "rovers of Salee" cruised
off the English coast, and defied the British fleets. Now the whole
naval force of the once-dreaded piratic states of Barbary can hardly
boast of two or three badly-manned brigs or frigates. As to Morocco, the
Emperor has not a single captain who can conduct a vessel from Mogador
to Gibraltar.
The most skilful _rais_ his ports can furnish made an attempt lately,
and was blown up and down for months on the coasts of Spain and
Portugal, being at last driven into the Straits by almost miraculous
interposition.
What was this Moorish boat in which I went on shore? A mere long shell
of bad planks, and scarcely more ship-shape than the trunk of a tree
hollowed into a canoe, leakily put together. It was filled with dirty,
ragged, half-naked sailors, whose seamanship did not extend beyond
coming and going from vessels lying in this little port. Each of these
Mogadorian port sailors had a bit of straight pole for an oar; the way
in which they rowed was equally characteristic. Struggling against wind
and current with their Moorish rais at the helm, encouraging their
labours by crying out first one thing, then another, as his fancy
dictated, the crew repeated in chorus all he said: - "Khobsah!" (a loaf)
cried the rais.
All the men echoed "Khobsah."
"A loaf you shall have when you return!" cried the rais.
"A loaf we shall have when we return!" cried the men.
"Pull, pull; God hears and sees you!" cried the rais.
"We pull, we pull; God hears and sees us!" cried the men.
"Sweetmeats, sweetmeats, by G - ; sweetmeats by G - you shall have, only
pull away!" swore the rais.
