Omoo | Page 8

So much for stout little Jermin.
All English whalemen are bound by-law to carry a physician, who, of
course, is rated a gentleman, and lives in the cabin, with nothing but his
professional duties to attend to; but incidentally he drinks "flip" and
plays cards with the captain. There was such a worthy aboard of the
Julia; but, curious to tell, he lived in the forecastle with the men. And
this was the way it happened.
In the early part of the voyage the doctor and the captain lived together
as pleasantly as could be. To say nothing of many a can they drank over
the cabin transom, both of them had read books, and one of them had
travelled; so their stories never flagged. But once on a time they got
into a dispute about politics, and the doctor, moreover, getting into a
rage, drove home an argument with his fist, and left the captain on the
floor literally silenced. This was carrying it with a high hand; so he was
shut up in his state-room for ten days, and left to meditate on bread and
water, and the impropriety of flying into a passion. Smarting under his
disgrace, he undertook, a short time after his liberation, to leave the
vessel clandestinely at one of the islands, but was brought back
ignominiously, and again shut up. Being set at large for the second time,
he vowed he would not live any longer with the captain, and went
forward with his chests among the sailors, where he was received with
open arms as a good fellow and an injured man.
I must give some further account of him, for he figures largely in the
narrative. His early history, like that of many other heroes, was
enveloped in the profoundest obscurity; though he threw out hints of a
patrimonial estate, a nabob uncle, and an unfortunate affair which sent
him a-roving. All that was known, however, was this. He had gone out
to Sydney as assistant-surgeon of an emigrant ship. On his arrival there,
he went back into the country, and after a few months' wanderings,
returned to Sydney penniless, and entered as doctor aboard of the Julia.
His personal appearance was remarkable. He was over six feet high--a
tower of bones, with a complexion absolutely colourless, fair hair, and
a light unscrupulous gray eye, twinkling occasionally at the very devil
of mischief. Among the crew, he went by the name of the Long Doctor,
or more frequently still, Doctor Long Ghost. And from whatever high

estate Doctor Long Ghost might have fallen, he had certainly at some
time or other spent money, drunk Burgundy, and associated with
gentlemen.
As for his learning, he quoted Virgil, and talked of Hobbs of
Malmsbury, beside repeating poetry by the canto, especially Hudibras.
He was, moreover, a man who had seen the world. In the easiest way
imaginable, he could refer to an amour he had in Palermo, his
lion-hunting before breakfast among the Caffres, and the quality of the
coffee to be drunk in Muscat; and about these places, and a hundred
others, he had more anecdotes than I can tell of. Then such mellow old
songs as he sang, in a voice so round and racy, the real juice of sound.
How such notes came forth from his lank body was a constant marvel.
Upon the whole, Long Ghost was as entertaining a companion as one
could wish; and to me in the Julia, an absolute godsend.


CHAPTER III
.
FURTHER ACCOUNT OF THE JULIA
OWING to the absence of anything like regular discipline, the vessel
was in a state of the greatest uproar. The captain, having for some time
past been more or less confined to the cabin from sickness, was seldom
seen. The mate, however, was as hearty as a young lion, and ran about
the decks making himself heard at all hours. Bembo, the New Zealand
harpooner, held little intercourse with anybody but the mate, who could
talk to him freely in his own lingo. Part of his time he spent out on the
bowsprit, fishing for albicores with a bone hook; and occasionally he
waked all hands up of a dark night dancing some cannibal fandango all
by himself on the forecastle. But, upon the whole, he was remarkably
quiet, though something in his eye showed he was far from being
harmless.
Doctor Long Ghost, having sent in a written resignation as the ship's
doctor, gave himself out as a passenger for Sydney, and took the world
quite easy. As for the crew, those who were sick seemed marvellously
contented for men in their condition; and the rest, not displeased with

the general licence, gave themselves little thought of the morrow.
The Julia's provisions were very poor. When