o
the entrance of such and such a passage of such and such an island,
and then deliberately contradict his officer's plain and truthful
statements, and tell him he was wrong. Foster, a good-humoured old
fellow, would merely laugh and change the subject, though he well knew
that Captain Evers had had very little experience of the navigation
of the South Seas, and relied upon his charts more than upon his local
knowledge--he would never take a suggestion from his officers, both of
whom were old "island" men--especially the second mate.

We loaded the hundred tons of copra, and were ready for sea by nine
o'clock one morning, when a number of large sailing canoes came off,
crowded with natives from a distant part of the island, all anxious to
buy firearms and ammunition in view of a great expedition against the
adjacent island of Tarawa. They all possessed either plenty of money
or copra, and Evers did a remarkably good, though illegal business, and
sold them over a hundred rifles. By the time they had finished, however,
it was past one o'clock, and I concluded that we could not leave the
lagoon till the following morning. To my surprise, and the second mate's
open-mouthed astonishment, the skipper, who was highly elated with his
morning's trading, told the mate to clear the decks, and get ready to
heave up.

"Why, he's mad!" said the second officer to me.

Now I must explain: Apaian Lagoon is a vast atoll completely enclosed on
the eastern and southern sides by a low, narrow strip of land, densely
covered with coco-palms, and on the northern and western by a continuous
chain of tiny islets connected by the reef. On the western side there
are two narrow ship passages, both exceedingly dangerous on account
of their being studded with numerous coral "mushrooms"--i.e., enormous
boulders of coral rock, which, resembling a mushroom in shape, come to
within a few feet of the surface of the water. Through these passages,
the tide, especially the ebb, rushes with great velocity--six or seven
knots at least--and vessels when leaving the lagoon, generally waited
till slack water, or the first of the flood, when with the usual strong
south-east trades, they could stem the current and avoid the dangerous
"mushrooms." But no shipmaster would ever attempt either of these
passages, except in the morning, when the sun was astern, and he could,
from aloft, con the ship. After two or three o'clock, the sun would be
directly in his face, a