Through Central Borneo An Account Of Two Years' Travel In The Land Of The Head-Hunters Between The Years 1913 And 1917 By Carl Lumholtz
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The Sea Washed Over The Port Side As If We Were On A Sailing-Boat, But The
Water Flowed Out Again Through A Number Of Small, Oblong Doors At The
Sides Which Opened And Closed Mechanically.
The launch, which was built in
Singapore, behaved well, but we had a good deal of cargo on deck as well
as down in the cabin.
Besides, the approach to Pembuang River is not
without risks. The sand-bars can be passed only at one place, which is
twelve or thirteen metres wide and, at low water, less than a metre deep.
The route is at present marked out, but in bygone years many ships were
wrecked here.
As the sea became more shallow the yellow-crested waves of dirty water
mixed with sand assumed an aspect of fury, and lying on my back I seemed
to be tossed from one wave to another, while I listened with some
apprehension to the melodious report of the man who took the depth of the
water: "Fourteen kaki" (feet)! Our boat drew only six feet of water;
"Seven kaki," he sang out, and immediately afterward, "Six kaki!" Now we
are "in for it," I thought. But a few seconds more and we successfully
passed the dangerous bar, the waves actually lifting us over it. My two
assistants had spent the time on top of the baggage and had been very
seasick. We were all glad to arrive in the smooth waters of the river. The
captain, with whom later I became well acquainted, was an excellent
sailor, both he and the crew being Malays.
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