The Cruise of the Frolic. Kingston William Henry Giles
which were before to be seen. We got back soon after eight o’clock, every one assuring Hearty that they had spent a most delightful day.
Chapter Three
“I say, old fellows, don’t you find this rather slow?” exclaimed Hearty, as one morning Carstairs, Bubble, and I sat at breakfast with him on board the “Frolic.” “What say you to a cruise to the westward, over to the coast of France and the Channel Islands, just for ten days or a fortnight or so?”
“Agreed, agreed, agreed!” we all answered.
“Well, then, to-morrow or next day we sail,” said Hearty. “But how can you, Carstairs, tear yourself away from your pretty widow? Bubble, you don’t mean to say that you can leave sweet May Sandon without a sigh?”
“A little absence will try the widow; it will teach her to miss me, and she will value me more when I return,” was Carstairs’ answer. “But you, Bubble, what do you say?” for he did not answer.
Will was guilty of blushing, for I saw the rosy hue appearing even through his sunburnt countenance, though the others did not.
“That is the best thing we can do,” he answered, with a loud laugh. “Hurrah for the broad seas, and a rover’s free life!”
“I thought so – I thought there was nothing in it,” said Hearty. “Happy dog! – you never fall in love; you never care for any one.”
“Ah, no: I laugh, sing, and am merry!” exclaimed Bubble. “It’s all very well for you fellows with your five or ten thousand a year to fall in love; you have hope to live on, if nothing else – no insurmountable obstacles; but for poverty-stricken wretches, like me and a dozen more I could name, it can only bring misery: yet I don’t complain of poverty – no cares, no responsibilities; if one has only one’s self to look after, it matters little; but should one unhappily meet with some being who to one’s eye is lovely, towards whom one’s heart yearns unconsciously, and one longs to make her one’s own, then one begins to feel what poverty really is – then the galling yoke presses on one’s neck. Can you then be surprised that I, and such as I, throw care away, and become the light frivolous wretches we seem? Hearty, my dear fellow, don’t you squander your money, or you will repent it!”
Bubble spoke with a feeling for which few would have given him credit. He directly afterwards, however, broke into his usual loud laugh, adding, —
“Don’t say that I have been moralising, or I may be suspected of incipient insanity.”
“Will Bubble has made out a clear case that he cannot be in love, for no one accuses him of being overburdened with the gifts of fortune,” I observed; for I saw that he was more in earnest than he would have wished to be supposed. “But do you, Hearty, wish to desert Miss Seaton, and leave the stage clear for Loring?”
“Oh, I never enter the lists with a man who can sing,” answered Hearty. “Those imitators of Orpheus have the same winning way about them which their great master possessed. But, at the same time, I’ll bet ten to one that the fair Jane never becomes Mrs Loring. I had a little confab the other day with Madame la Mère, and faith, she’s about as fierce a she-dragon as ever guarded an enchanted princess from the attempts of knights-errant to rescue her.”
“I’ll take your bet, and for once stake love against lucre!” exclaimed Bubble, and the bet was booked.
But enough of this. We bade our friends farewell; and, in spite of all their attempts to detain us, we laid in a stock of provisions to last us for a month, and with a fine breeze from the northward, actually found our way through the Needles just as the sun was tinging the topmost pinnacles of those weather-worn rocks.
As soon as we were through the passage, we kept away, and shaped a course for Havre de Grâce. The wind shifted round soon afterwards to the westward, and I shall not forget the pure refreshing saltness of the breeze which filled our nostrils, and added strength and vigour to our limbs. What a breakfast we ate afterwards! There seemed no end to it. Our caterer had done well to lay in a store of comestibles. Our perfect happiness lasted till nearly noon, and then the wind increased and the sea got up in a not unusual manner. We went below to take luncheon, and we set to in first-rate style, as if there was no such thing as the centre of gravity to be disturbed. Carstairs began to look a little queer.
“‘Thus far into the bowels of the earth have we marched on without impediment,’ Shakespeare, hum” – he began. He was going to give us the whole speech, but instead, he exclaimed, “O ye gods and little fishes!” and bolted up on deck.
Hearty, the joyous and free, followed. They declared that they felt as if the cook had mixed ipecacuanha in the sausages they had eaten for breakfast. Bubble laughed, lighted a cigar, and sat on the companion-hatch with one leg resting on the deck, the other carelessly dangling down, with the independence of a king on his throne, pitying them. Oh, how they envied him; how they almost hated him, as cigar after cigar disappeared, and still there he sat without a sign of discomposure! At dark we made the Havre light, and an hour afterwards, and an hour afterwards, the tide being high, we ran in and dropped our anchor in smooth water. Wonderful was the change which quietude worked on all hands!
“Supper, supper!” was the cry. Even Will and I did justice to it, though we had had a quiet little dinner by ourselves in the midst of our friends’ agony, off pickled salmon and roast duck, with a gooseberry tart and a bottle of champagne.
Next morning we sailed with the wind back again to the north-east, and, notwithstanding the little inconveniences we had suffered on the passage across, we stood to the westward, and heroically determined to run through the Race of Alderney, to pay a visit to Jersey. There was a nice breeze, and I must say we were glad there was no more of it, as we ran through the passage between Alderney and the French coast. The water seemed possessed; it tumbled and leaped and twisted and danced in a most extraordinary and unnatural manner; and several seas toppled right down on our decks, and we could not help fancying that some huge fish had jumped on board. However, with a fair wind and a strong tide we were soon through it, nor was there danger of any sort; but from the specimen we had we could judge what it would be in a strongish gale. The wind had got round to the southward of west, and before we had managed to weather Cape Gronez the tide turned against us. Cape Gronez is the north-west point of Jersey, and bears a strong similarity to the nose of Louis Philippe, as his portrait used to be represented in “Punch.” We had an opportunity of judging of it, for, for upwards of an hour did we beat between it and those enticing rocks called very properly the Paternosters, for if a ship once strikes on them, it is to be hoped that the crew, being Roman Catholics, will, if they have time, say their Paternosters before they go to the bottom.
At last it came on very thick, we ran back and anchored in a most romantic little cove called Bouley Bay, where we remained all night, hoping the wind would not shift to the northward, and send us on shore. I should advise all timid yachtsmen to keep clear of Jersey, for what with the rapid tides, and rocks innumerable, it is a very ticklish locality. The next morning we got under way at daybreak, and brought up off Elizabeth Castle, which guards the entrance of the harbour of St. Heliers. I have not time to describe Jersey. I can only recommend all who have not seen it, and wish to enjoy some very beautiful scenery, to go there. Two days more saw us crossing to Torbay, which we reached on the morning of the regatta. Had an artist been employed to carve the cliffs on which Torbay is situated, he could scarcely have made them more picturesque, or added tints more suitable, except perhaps that they are a little more red than one might wish. However, it is a very beautiful place, and admirably adapted for a regatta.
The bay before the town was crowded with yachts, and I counted no less than fourteen large schooners, among which I remember the “Brilliant,” which, however, should be called a ship, “Gypsy Queen,” “Dolphin,” “Louisa,” and a vast number of cutters, a large proportion of which were gayly dressed up with flags. The course is round the bay, so that the yachts are in sight the whole time – an advantage possessed by few other places. The “Heroine,” “Cygnet,” and “Cynthia,” sailed, but the race was not a good one, as the “Heroine,” driven to windward by her antagonist, ran her bowsprit into one of the mark boats, and another