Of non-European crews, lascars and
Kalashes, I have had very little experience, and that was only in one
steamship and for something less than a year. It was on the same
occasion that I had my only sight of Chinese firemen. Sight is the exact
word. One didn't speak to them. One saw them going along the decks, to
and fro, characteristic figures with rolled-up pigtails, very dirty when
coming off duty and very clean-faced when going on duty. They never
looked at anybody, and one never had occasion to address them directly.
Their appearances in the light of day were very regular, and yet somewhat
ghostlike in their detachment and silence.
But of the white crews of British ships and almost exclusively British in
blood and descent, the immediate predecessors of the men whose worth the
nation has discovered for itself to-day, I have had a thorough
experience. At first amongst them, then with them, I have shared all the
conditions of their very special life. For it was very special. In my
early days, starting out on a voyage was like being launched into
Eternity. I say advisedly Eternity instead of Space, because of the
boundless silence which swallowed up one for eighty days--for one hundred
days--for even yet more days of an existence without echoes and whispers.
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