the mirror of the sea-第28部分

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two　thick；　red…necked　fellows　of　the　semi…nautical　type　at　the



Fenchurch　Street　Railway…station；　where；　in　those　days；　the



everyday　male　crowd　was　attired　in　jerseys　and　pilot…cloth　mostly；



and　had　the　air　of　being　more　conversant　with　the　times　of　high…



water　than　with　the　times　of　the　trains。　　I　had　noticed　that　new



ship's　name　on　the　first　page　of　my　morning　paper。　　I　had　stared　at



the　unfamiliar　grouping　of　its　letters；　blue　on　white　ground；　on



the　advertisement…boards；　whenever　the　train　came　to　a　standstill



alongside　one　of　the　shabby；　wooden；　wharf…like　platforms　of　the



dock　railway…line。　　She　had　been　named；　with　proper　observances；　on



the　day　she　came　off　the　stocks；　no　doubt；　but　she　was　very　far　yet



from　〃having　a　name。〃　　Untried；　ignorant　of　the　ways　of　the　sea；



she　had　been　thrust　amongst　that　renowned　company　of　ships　to　load



for　her　maiden　voyage。　　There　was　nothing　to　vouch　for　her



soundness　and　the　worth　of　her　character；　but　the　reputation　of　the



building…yard　whence　she　was　launched　headlong　into　the　world　of



waters。　　She　looked　modest　to　me。　　I　imagined　her　diffident；　lying



very　quiet；　with　her　side　nestling　shyly　against　the　wharf　to　which



she　was　made　fast　with　very　new　lines；　intimidated　by　the　company



of　her　tried　and　experienced　sisters　already　familiar　with　all　the



violences　of　the　ocean　and　the　exacting　love　of　men。　　They　had　had



more　long　voyages　to　make　their　names　in　than　she　had　known　weeks



of　carefully　tended　life；　for　a　new　ship　receives　as　much　attention



as　if　she　were　a　young　bride。　　Even　crabbed　old　dock…masters　look



at　her　with　benevolent　eyes。　　In　her　shyness　at　the　threshold　of　a



laborious　and　uncertain　life；　where　so　much　is　expected　of　a　ship；



she　could　not　have　been　better　heartened　and　comforted；　had　she



only　been　able　to　hear　and　understand；　than　by　the　tone　of　deep



conviction　in　which　my　elderly；　respectable　seaman　repeated　the



first　part　of　his　saying；　〃Ships　are　all　right　。　。　。〃







His　civility　prevented　him　from　repeating　the　other；　the　bitter



part。　　It　had　occurred　to　him　that　it　was　perhaps　indelicate　to



insist。　　He　had　recognised　in　me　a　ship's　officer；　very　possibly



looking　for　a　berth　like　himself；　and　so　far　a　comrade；　but　still　a



man　belonging　to　that　sparsely…peopled　after…end　of　a　ship；　where　a



great　part　of　her　reputation　as　a　〃good　ship；〃　in　seaman's



parlance；　is　made　or　marred。







〃Can　you　say　that　of　all　ships　without　exception？〃　I　asked；　being



in　an　idle　mood；　because；　if　an　obvious　ship's　officer；　I　was　not；



as　a　matter　of　fact；　down　at　the　docks　to　〃look　for　a　berth；〃　an



occupation　as　engrossing　as　gambling；　and　as　little　favourable　to



the　free　exchange　of　ideas；　besides　being　destructive　of　the　kindly



temper　needed　for　casual　intercourse　with　one's　fellow…creatures。







〃You　can　always　put　up　with　'em；〃　opined　the　respectable　seaman



judicially。







He　was　not　averse　from　talking；　either。　　If　he　had　come　down　to　the



dock　to　look　for　a　berth；　he　did　not　seem　oppressed　by　anxiety　as



to　his　chances。　　He　had　the　serenity　of　a　man　whose　estimable



character　is　fortunately　expressed　by　his　personal　appearance　in　an



unobtrusive；　yet　convincing；　manner　which　no　chief　officer　in　want



of　hands　could　resist。　　And；　true　enough；　I　learned　presently　that



the　mate　of　the　Hyperion　had　〃taken　down〃　his　name　for　quarter…



master。　　〃We　sign　on　Friday；　and　join　next　day　for　the　morning



tide；〃　he　remarked；　in　a　deliberate；　careless　tone；　which



contrasted　strongly　with　his　evident　readiness　to　stand　there



yarning　for　an　hour　or　so　with　an　utter　stranger。







〃Hyperion；〃　I　said。　　〃I　don't　remember　ever　seeing　that　ship



anywhere。　　What　sort　of　a　name　has　she　got？〃







It　appeared　from　his　discursive　answer　that　she　had　not　much　of　a



name　one　way　or　another。　　She　was　not　very　fast。　　It　took　no　fool；



though；　to　steer　her　straight；　he　believed。　　Some　years　ago　he　had



seen　her　in　Calcutta；　and　he　remembered　being　told　by　somebody



then；　that　on　her　passage　up　the　river　she　had　carried　away　both



her　hawse…pipes。　　But　that　might　have　been　the　pilot's　fault。　　Just



now；　yarning　with　the　apprentices　on　board；　he　had　heard　that　this



very　voyage；　brought　up　in　the　Downs；　outward　bound；　she　broke　her



sheer；　struck　adrift；　and　lost　an　anchor　and　chain。　　But　that　might



have　occurred　through　want　of　careful　tending　in　a　tideway。　　All



the　same；　this　looked　as　though　she　were　pretty　hard　on　her　ground…



tackle。　　Didn't　it？　　She　seemed　a　heavy　ship　to　handle；　anyway。



For　the　rest；　as　she　had　a　new　captain　and　a　new　mate　this　voyage；



he　understood；　one　couldn't　say　how　she　would　turn　out。　。　。　。







In　such　marine　shore…talk　as　this　is　the　name　of　a　ship　slowly



established；　her　fame　made　for　her；　the　tale　of　her　qualities　and



of　her　defects　kept；　her　idiosyncrasies　commented　upon　with　the



zest　of　personal　gossip；　her　achievements　made　much　of；　her　faults



glossed　over　as　things　that；　being　without　remedy　in　our　imperfect



world；　should　not　be　dwelt　upon　too　much　by　men　who；　with　the　help



of　ships；　wrest　out　a　bitter　living　from　the　rough　grasp　of　the



sea。　　All　that　talk　makes　up　her　〃name；〃　which　is　handed　over　from



one　crew　to　another　without　bitterness；　without　animosity；　with　the



indulgence　of　mutual　dependence；　and　with　the　feeling　of　close



association　in　the　exercise　of　her　perfections　and　in　the　danger　of



her　defects。







This　feeling　explains　men's　pride　in　ships。　　〃Ships　are　all　right；〃



as　my　middle…aged；　respectable　quartermaster　said　with　much



conviction　and　some　irony；　but　they　are　not　exactly　what　men　make



them。　　They　have　their　own　nature；　they　can　of　themselves　minister



to　our　self…esteem　by　the　demand　their　qualities　make　upon　our



skill　and　their　shortcomings　upon　our　hardiness　and　endurance。



Which　is　the　more　flattering　exaction　it　is　hard　to　say；　but　there



is　the　fact　that　in　listening　for　upwards　of　twenty　years　to　the



sea…talk　that　goes　on　afloat　and　ashore　I　have　never　detected　the



true　note　of　animosity。　　I　won't　deny　that　at　sea；　sometimes；　the



note　of　profanity　was　audible　enough　in　those　chiding



interpellations　a　wet；　cold；　weary　seaman　addresses　to　his　ship；



and　in　moments　of　exasperation　is　disposed　to　extend　to　all　ships



that　ever　were　launched　…　to　the　whole　everlastingly　exacting　brood



that　swims　in　deep　waters。　　And　I　have　heard　curses　launched　at　the



unstable　element　itself；　whose　fascination；　outlasting　the



accumulated　experience　of　ages；　had　captured　him　as　it　had　captured



the　generations　of　his　forebears。







For　all　that　has　been　said　of　the　love　that　certain　natures　（on



shore）　have　professed　to　feel　for　it；　for　all　the　celebrations　it



had　been　the　object　of　in　prose　and　song；　the　sea　has　never　been



friendly　to　man。　　At　most　it　has　been　the　accomplice　of　human



restlessness；　and　playing　the　part　of　dangerous　abettor　of　world…



wide　ambitions。　　Faithful　to　no　race　after　the　manner　of　the　kindly



earth；　receiving　no　impress　from　valour　and　toil　and　self…



sacrifice；　recognising　no　finality　of　dominion；　the　sea　has　never



adopted　the　cause　of　its　masters　like　those　lands　where　the



victorious　nations　of　mankind　have　taken　root；　rocking　their



cradles　and　setting　up　their　gravestones。　　He　…　man　or　people　…



who；　putting　his　trust　in　the　friendship　of　the　sea；　neglects　the



strength　and　cunning　of　his　right　hand；　is　a　fool！　　As　if　it　were



too　great；　too　mighty　for　common　virtues；　the　ocean　has　no



compassion；　no　faith；　no　law；　no　memory。　　Its　fickleness　is　to　be



held　true　to　men's　purposes　only　by　an　undaunted　resolution　and　by



a　sleepless；　armed；　jealous　vigilance；　in　which；　perhaps；　there　has



always　been　more　hate　than　love。　　ODI　ET　AMO　may　well　be　the



confession　of　those　who　consciously　or　blindly　have　surrendered



their　existence　to　the　fascination　of　the　sea。　　All　the　tempestuous



passions　of　mankind's　young　days；　the　love　of　loot　and　the　love　of



glory；　the　love　of　adventure　and　the　love　of　danger；　with　the　great



love　of　the　unknown　and　vast　dreams　of　dominion　and　power；　have



passed　like　images　reflected　from　a　mirror；　leaving　no　record　upon



the　mysterious　face　of　the　sea。　　Impenetrable　and　heartless；　the



sea　has　given　nothing　of　itself　to　the　suitors　for　its　precarious



favours。　　Unlike　the　earth；　it　cannot　be　subjugated　at　any　cost　of



patience　and　toil。　　For　all　its　fascination　that　has　lured　so　many



to　a　violent　death；　its　immensity　has　never　been　loved　as　the



mountains；　the　plains；　the　desert　itself；　have　been　loved。　　Indeed；



I　suspect　that；　leaving　aside　the　protestations　and　tributes　of



writers　who；　one　is　safe　in　saying；　care　for　little　else　in　the



world　than　the　rhythm　of　their　lines　and　the　cadence　of　their



ph