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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
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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
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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
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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
compass。 There was no wind to check them。 They popped up like corks
released from the bottom of a pail of water。 There was no system to them；
no stability。 They were hollow； maniacal seas。 They were eighty feet high
at the least。 They were not seas at all。 They resembled no sea a man had
ever seen。
They were splashes； monstrous splashesthat is all。 Splashes that were
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eighty feet high。 Eighty！ They were more than eighty。 They went over
our mastheads。 They were spouts； explosions。 They were drunken。 They
fell anywhere； anyhow。 They jostled one another； they collided。 They
rushed together and collapsed upon one another； or fell apart like a
thousand waterfalls all at once。 It was no ocean a