The Cruise of the Snark | Page 7

River
and the connecting canal, and go down the Mississippi to the Gulf of
Mexico. And then there are the great rivers of South America. We'll
know something about geography when we get back to California.
People that build houses are often sore perplexed; but if they enjoy the
strain of it, I'll advise them to build a boat like the Snark. Just consider,
for a moment, the strain of detail. Take the engine. What is the best
kind of engine--the two cycle? three cycle? four cycle? My lips are
mutilated with all kinds of strange jargon, my mind is mutilated with
still stranger ideas and is foot-sore and weary from travelling in new
and rocky realms of thought.--Ignition methods; shall it be
make-and-break or jump-spark? Shall dry cells or storage batteries be
used? A storage battery commends itself, but it requires a dynamo.
How powerful a dynamo? And when we have installed a dynamo and a
storage battery, it is simply ridiculous not to light the boat with
electricity. Then comes the discussion of how many lights and how
many candle-power. It is a splendid idea. But electric lights will
demand a more powerful storage battery, which, in turn, demands a
more powerful dynamo.
And now that we've gone in for it, why not have a searchlight? It would
be tremendously useful. But the searchlight needs so much electricity
that when it runs it will put all the other lights out of commission.
Again we travel the weary road in the quest after more power for
storage battery and dynamo. And then, when it is finally solved, some
one asks, "What if the engine breaks down?" And we collapse. There
are the sidelights, the binnacle light, and the anchor light. Our very
lives depend upon them. So we have to fit the boat throughout with oil
lamps as well.
But we are not done with that engine yet. The engine is powerful. We
are two small men and a small woman. It will break our hearts and our

backs to hoist anchor by hand. Let the engine do it. And then comes the
problem of how to convey power for'ard from the engine to the winch.
And by the time all this is settled, we redistribute the allotments of
space to the engine-room, galley, bath-room, state-rooms, and cabin,
and begin all over again. And when we have shifted the engine, I send
off a telegram of gibberish to its makers at New York, something like
this: Toggle-joint abandoned change thrust-bearing accordingly
distance from forward side of flywheel to face of stern post sixteen feet
six inches.
Just potter around in quest of the best steering gear, or try to decide
whether you will set up your rigging with old-fashioned lanyards or
with turnbuckles, if you want strain of detail. Shall the binnacle be
located in front of the wheel in the centre of the beam, or shall it be
located to one side in front of the wheel?-- there's room right there for a
library of sea-dog controversy. Then there's the problem of gasolene,
fifteen hundred gallons of it--what are the safest ways to tank it and
pipe it? and which is the best fire-extinguisher for a gasolene fire? Then
there is the pretty problem of the life-boat and the stowage of the same.
And when that is finished, come the cook and cabin-boy to confront
one with nightmare possibilities. It is a small boat, and we'll be packed
close together. The servant-girl problem of landsmen pales to
insignificance. We did select one cabin-boy, and by that much were our
troubles eased. And then the cabin-boy fell in love and resigned.
And in the meanwhile how is a fellow to find time to study
navigation--when he is divided between these problems and the earning
of the money wherewith to settle the problems? Neither Roscoe nor I
know anything about navigation, and the summer is gone, and we are
about to start, and the problems are thicker than ever, and the treasury
is stuffed with emptiness. Well, anyway, it takes years to learn
seamanship, and both of us are seamen. If we don't find the time, we'll
lay in the books and instruments and teach ourselves navigation on the
ocean between San Francisco and Hawaii.
There is one unfortunate and perplexing phase of the voyage of the
Snark. Roscoe, who is to be my co-navigator, is a follower of one,

Cyrus R. Teed. Now Cyrus R. Teed has a different cosmology from the
one generally accepted, and Roscoe shares his views. Wherefore
Roscoe believes that the surface of the earth is concave and that we live
on the inside of a hollow sphere. Thus, though we shall sail on the one
boat, the Snark, Roscoe will journey around the world on the