The Cruise of the Snark | Page 9

came to pay
the bill, it turned out to be three hundred and ninety-five dollars. That
shows how good a life-boat it is.
I could go on at great length relating the various virtues and excellences
of the Snark, but I refrain. I have bragged enough as it is, and I have
bragged to a purpose, as will be seen before my tale is ended. And
please remember its title, "The Inconceivable and Monstrous." It was
planned that the Snark should sail on October 1, 1906. That she did not
so sail was inconceivable and monstrous. There was no valid reason for
not sailing except that she was not ready to sail, and there was no
conceivable reason why she was not ready. She was promised on
November first, on November fifteenth, on December first; and yet she
was never ready. On December first Charmian and I left the sweet,
clean Sonoma country and came down to live in the stifling city--but
not for long, oh, no, only for two weeks, for we would sail on
December fifteenth. And I guess we ought to know, for Roscoe said so,
and it was on his advice that we came to the city to stay two weeks.
Alas, the two weeks went by, four weeks went by, six weeks went by,
eight weeks went by, and we were farther away from sailing than ever.
Explain it? Who?--me? I can't. It is the one thing in all my life that I
have backed down on. There is no explaining it; if there were, I'd do it.
I, who am an artisan of speech, confess my inability to explain why the
Snark was not ready. As I have said, and as I must repeat, it was
inconceivable and monstrous.
The eight weeks became sixteen weeks, and then, one day, Roscoe
cheered us up by saying: "If we don't sail before April first, you can use
my head for a football."
Two weeks later he said, "I'm getting my head in training for that
match."
"Never mind," Charmian and I said to each other; "think of the

wonderful boat it is going to be when it is completed."
Whereat we would rehearse for our mutual encouragement the
manifold virtues and excellences of the Snark. Also, I would borrow
more money, and I would get down closer to my desk and write harder,
and I refused heroically to take a Sunday off and go out into the hills
with my friends. I was building a boat, and by the eternal it was going
to be a boat, and a boat spelled out all in capitals--B--O--A- -T; and no
matter what it cost I didn't care. So long as it was a BOAT.
And, oh, there is one other excellence of the Snark, upon which I must
brag, namely, her bow. No sea could ever come over it. It laughs at the
sea, that bow does; it challenges the sea; it snorts defiance at the sea.
And withal it is a beautiful bow; the lines of it are dreamlike; I doubt if
ever a boat was blessed with a more beautiful and at the same time a
more capable bow. It was made to punch storms. To touch that bow is
to rest one's hand on the cosmic nose of things. To look at it is to
realize that expense cut no figure where it was concerned. And every
time our sailing was delayed, or a new expense was tacked on, we
thought of that wonderful bow and were content.
The Snark is a small boat. When I figured seven thousand dollars as her
generous cost, I was both generous and correct. I have built barns and
houses, and I know the peculiar trait such things have of running past
their estimated cost. This knowledge was mine, was already mine,
when I estimated the probable cost of the building of the Snark at seven
thousand dollars. Well, she cost thirty thousand. Now don't ask me,
please. It is the truth. I signed the cheques and I raised the money. Of
course there is no explaining it, inconceivable and monstrous is what it
is, as you will agree, I know, ere my tale is done.
Then there was the matter of delay. I dealt with forty-seven different
kinds of union men and with one hundred and fifteen different firms.
And not one union man and not one firm of all the union men and all
the firms ever delivered anything at the time agreed upon, nor ever was
on time for anything except pay-day and bill-collection. Men pledged
me their immortal souls that they would deliver a certain thing on a
certain date; as a rule, after such pledging, they rarely exceeded being

three months late in delivery. And so