CHAPTER I 第一章

For a long time after the course of the steamer Sofala had been altered for the land, the low swampy coast had retained its appearance of a mere smudge of darkness beyond a belt of glitter. The sunrays seemed to fall violently upon the calm sea—seemed to shatter themselves upon an adamantine surface into sparkling dust, into a dazzling vapor of light that blinded the eye and wearied the brain with its unsteady brightness.

在轮船苏法拉号改变航线驶向陆地很久以后，低洼而泥泞的海岸在一片闪闪发光的海水后面，看上去依然肮脏不堪，漆黑一团。太阳光好像是猛烈地坠落到平静的海上的——似乎在异常坚硬的海面上摔得粉碎，变成闪光的灰尘，变成耀眼的光雾，闪烁不停，让人眼前一片黑暗，而且精神疲累。

Captain Whalley did not look at it. When his Serang, approaching the roomy cane arm—chair which he filled capably, had informed him in a low voice that the course was to be altered, he had risen at once and had remained on his feet, face forward, while the head of his ship swung through a quarter of a circle. He had not uttered a single word, not even the word to steady the helm. It was the Serang, an elderly, alert, little Malay, with a very dark skin, who murmured the order to the helmsman. And then slowly Captain Whalley sat down again in the arm—chair on the bridge and fixed his eyes on the deck between his feet.

惠利船长并不望向阳光。他坐在一张藤扶手椅上，几乎要把那个宽大的椅子占满了。当他的水手长走近藤椅，低声告诉他航线需要改变的时候，他便立刻起身，站在原地不动，脸朝前，此刻他那艘船的船头已经旋转了四分之一圈。他没有说一句话，连吩咐掌稳舵的话也没有说。是那个水手长，一个年老但机灵的皮肤黝黑的小个子马来人，低声地向舵手发布了命令。而后惠利船长又慢腾腾地坐回驾驶台上那张扶手椅，眼睛盯着他两脚之间的甲板看。

He could not hope to see anything new upon this lane of the sea. He had been on these coasts for the last three years. From Low Cape to Malantan the distance was fifty miles, six hours 'steaming for the old ship with the tide, or seven against. Then you steered straight for the land, and by—and—by three palms would appear on the sky, tall and slim, and with their disheveled heads in a bunch, as if in confidential criticism of the dark mangroves. The Sofala would be headed towards the somber strip of the coast, which at a given moment, as the ship closed with it obliquely, would show several clean shining fractures—the brimful estuary of a river. Then on through a brown liquid, three parts water and one part black earth, on and on between the low shores, three parts black earth and one part brackish water, the Sofala would plow her way up—stream, as she had done once every month for these seven years or more, long before he was aware of her existence, long before he had ever thought of having anything to do with her and her invariable voyages. The old ship ought to have known the road better than her men, who had not been kept so long at it without a change; better than the faithful Serang, whom he had brought over from his last ship to keep the captain's watch; better than he himself, who had been her captain for the last three years only. She could always be depended upon to make her courses. Her compasses were never out. She was no trouble at all to take about, as if her great age had given her knowledge, wisdom, and steadiness. She made her landfalls to a degree of the bearing, and almost to a minute of her allowed time. At any moment, as he sat on the bridge without looking up, or lay sleepless in his bed, simply by reckoning the days and the hours he could tell where he was—the precise spot of the beat. He knew it well too, this monotonous huckster's round, up and down the Straits; he knew its order and its sights and its people. Malacca to begin with, in at daylight and out at dusk, to cross over with a rigid phosphorescent wake this highway of the Far East. Darkness and gleams on the water, clear stars on a black sky, perhaps the lights of a home steamer keeping her unswerving course in the middle, or maybe the elusive shadow of a native craft with her mat sails flitting by silently—and the low land on the other side in sight at daylight. At noon the three palms of the next place of call, up a sluggish river. The only white man residing there was a retired young sailor, with whom he had become friendly in the course of many voyages. Sixty miles farther on there was another place of call, a deep bay with only a couple of houses on the beach. And so on, in and out, picking up coastwise cargo here and there, and finishing with a hundred miles' steady steaming through the maze of an archipelago of small islands up to a large native town at the end of the beat. There was a three days' rest for the old ship before he started her again in inverse order, seeing the same shores from another bearing, hearing the same voices in the same places, back again to the Sofala's port of registry on the great highway to the East, where he would take up a berth nearly opposite the big stone pile of the harbor office till it was time to start again on the old round of 1600 miles and thirty days. Not a very enterprising life, this, for Captain Whalley, Henry Whalley, otherwise Dare—devil Harry—Whalley of the Condor, a famous clipper in her day. No. Not a very enterprising life for a man who had served famous firms, who had sailed famous ships (more than one or two of them his own); who had made famous passages, had been the pioneer of new routes and new trades; who had steered across the unsurveyed tracts of the South Seas, and had seen the sun rise on uncharted islands. Fifty years at sea, and forty out in the East ( "a pretty thorough apprenticeship, " he used to remark smilingly), had made him honorably known to a generation of shipowners and merchants in all the ports from Bombay clear over to where the East merges into the West upon the coast of the two Americas. His fame remained writ, not very large but plain enough, on the Admiralty charts. Was there not somewhere between Australia and China a Whalley Island and a Condor Reef? On that dangerous coral formation the celebrated clipper had hung stranded for three days, her captain and crew throwing her cargo overboard with one hand and with the other, as it were, keeping off her a flotilla of savage war—canoes. At that time neither the island nor the reef had any official existence. Later the officers of her Majesty's steam vessel Fusilier, dispatched to make a survey of the route, recognized in the adoption of these two names the enterprise of the man and the solidity of the ship. Besides, as anyone who cares may see, the "General Directory, " vol. ii. p. 410, begins the description of the "Malotu or Whalley Passage" with the words: "This advantageous route, first discovered in 1850 by Captain Whalley in the ship Condor, " &c., and ends by recommending it warmly to sailing vessels leaving the China ports for the south in the months from December to April inclusive.

在这条航线上，他不抱看到任何新东西的希望。过去三年来，他一直在这一带海岸航行。从低角到马兰丹，有五十英里的距离，顺水的话，他那艘老船需要走六个小时，逆水则需要走七个小时。然后，轮船直接驶向陆地，片刻三棵棕榈树便会在天际出现，又高又细，凌乱的树冠凑在一起，仿佛在悄悄评论黑压压的红树林似的。苏法拉号将会驶向昏暗而狭长的海岸，在一定的时间转弯抹角地靠近海岸，此时海岸就会出现几个整齐的、发亮的裂口——充满了河水的港湾。接着，苏法拉号就会在一道四分之三是水、四分之一是黑泥的棕色河流中，溯流而上，不停地行驶在四分之三是黑泥、四分之一是淡盐水的低洼的两岸中间。在过去七年或是更长的时间里，这艘船每个月都要这样航行一回。这是很久以前了，那时他还不知道有这么一艘船，更没想到他会和这艘船，还有这艘船不变的航线发生什么关系。这艘老船应该比船上的人更熟悉这条航线，船上的人并不是一成不变地待在这里；它也应该比那个忠诚的水手长更熟悉，那是惠利从他上一艘船上带来，代替他这个船长来照看这艘船的；它甚至应该比他自己更熟悉，因为他只在这条船上当了三年的船长。它总能按照航线行驶，非常值得信赖。它的罗盘从未出错。它从来不给人惹麻烦，好像它这大把年纪反倒给了它知识、智慧和稳健。它的靠岸方位准确无误，而且几乎跟规定时间分秒不差。无论何时，只要他坐在船桥上，不需要抬头看，或者是醒着躺在床上，只要计算一下天数和钟头，就能说出他在哪里——航线上的精确地点。他还很清楚地知道，这是往返于马六甲海峡的单调的巡回买卖航行；他了解那一带的风俗、风景和居民情况。轮船的第一站是马六甲，白天靠岸，傍晚出发，横渡这条远东地区的交通要道，带着死板的闪着磷光的尾波。水面上一片黑暗，微光闪闪，漆黑的天空中明星高悬，也许有当地的一艘轮船载着点点灯光笔直地行驶在航道中央，也可能有一条当地的小船挂着用棕榈叶编织的帆静静掠过——在白天则能看见另一面低洼的陆地。中午时分，看见了三棵棕榈树，也就是下一个停靠地点了，此时轮船行驶在一条水流迟缓的河上，溯流而上。居住在那里的唯一一个白人，是个已经退役的年轻海军官员，惠利船长在这条航线上来来往往很多回，和他结下了友情。再向前行驶六十英里，就到了另一个停靠地点，即海滩上只有几所房子的深水湾。就这样来来回回，在沿岸附近装运货物，最后，在迷宫一样的群岛之间，轮船按照固定的航线再行驶一百英里，来到当地的一个大城镇，便结束了它的航程。那艘老船可以休息三天，然后他驾驶着船原路返回，从另一个方位看相同的海岸，在相同的地方听相同的声音，再回到远东地区交通要道上苏法拉号的船籍港，在港务局的那幢石头大厦对面附近，他会为船找上一个泊位，直到再次开始那重复了无数回的一千六百英里的三十天航程。对船长惠利，亨利•惠利，或者说是对天不怕地不怕的哈里——神鹰号的惠利来说，这不是什么雄心勃勃的生活，当初神鹰号可是一艘有名的快速帆船呢。确实不是。对一个曾经为著名的商号干过活的人，对一个驾驶过许多名船——他自己拥有的就不止一两艘——的人来说，这算不上什么雄心勃勃的生活；他有过几次著名的航行，他还是新航线和新贸易的拓荒者；他曾驾船横渡南洋的那些未经测量的广阔海域，看到太阳从航海图上尚未标明的岛屿上升起。他在海上漂泊了五十年，其中有四十多年是在东方（ “十分彻底的训练期，” 他过去经常这样微笑着说），这使得从孟买开始，一直到东方连接西方南北美洲海岸的所有港口的整整一代船主和商人，都认识他、尊敬他。他的名声镌刻在了航海图上，虽然不是很大，却清清楚楚。在澳大利亚和中国之间的某处，不是有座惠利岛和一片神鹰礁吗？那艘有名的快速帆船，曾经在那片危险的珊瑚层上搁浅了三天，船长和船员用一只手把货物扔出船外，可以说又用另一只手使他们那艘船避开了一队土著的独木战船。无论是那座岛，还是那片礁石，那时在官方资料上都还不存在呢。后来，英国政府派遣官员驾驶着火枪手号轮船，对那条航线进行勘察，才开始采用这两个地名，认可了惠利船长的进取精神和船的坚固性。此外，留心的人还可能发现在《航海大全》的第二卷第410页上看到，在描述 “马洛托或者惠利航道” 时，是以这样的字句开始的： “这条有益的航线是由神鹰号的惠利船长在1850年首先发现的，” 等等，最后，该书向从十二月起至四月底之间离开中国港口向南行驶的帆船热情洋溢地推荐了这条航线。

This was the clearest gain he had out of life. Nothing could rob him of this kind of fame. The piercing of the Isthmus of Suez, like the breaking of a dam, had let in upon the East a flood of new ships, new men, new methods of trade. It had changed the face of the Eastern seas and the very spirit of their life; so that his early experiences meant nothing whatever to the new generation of seamen.

这是他一生中最显著的收获。没有任何东西能抢走他的这种名声。苏伊士运河的开通，犹如一个水坝开了口，给东方带来了大量新的船只，新的人，新的贸易方式。这改变了东方海洋的面貌和当地人的精神状态；所以他的早年经历，无论是什么，对新一代的海员来说，都无足轻重了。

In those bygone days he had handled many thousands of pounds of his employers' money and of his own; he had attended faithfully, as by law a shipmaster is expected to do, to the conflicting interests of owners, charterers, and underwriters. He had never lost a ship or consented to a shady transaction; and he had lasted well, outlasting in the end the conditions that had gone to the making of his name. He had buried his wife (in the Gulf of Petchili), had married off his daughter to the man of her unlucky choice, and had lost more than an ample competence in the crash of the notorious Travancore and Deccan Banking Corporation, whose downfall had shaken the East like an earthquake. And he was sixty—five years old.

在那些过去的日子里，他曾经处理过成千上万镑的钱，既有雇主的，也有他自己的；他忠心耿耿地处理货主、租船者和承销商三者之间互相冲突的利益关系，像一个船主应该做到的那样。他从未损失过一艘船，或者同意过一桩肮脏的交易；他一直干得很好，并凭借着这些条件获得了名声，但是最后他陷入了困境。他埋葬了他的妻子（在佩奇里湾），嫁出去了不幸选错对象的女儿，又遭遇了那次无人不知的特拉凡哥尔和德干银行公司倒闭事件，他不仅损失了足以让他过上舒适生活的财富，而且这次倒闭像地震一样撼动了东方世界。而且他已经六十五岁了。