Natal Roads was a different place in April to what it had been in January or even March. There was a great collection of steamships there, and the entire harbour was very busy. We skippers found it a little awkward to get on shore and come off again, for the Company’s tug was almost the only reliable conveyance, and she could not spare individual attention to our ship only. Eventually the Curries got a tug of their own, and that made matters better. The _African_ was now bound home, and things were working very smoothly. Sailing from Cape Town, however, we stayed in the Bay for some hours to pick up some celebrities who wished to sail with us. Amongst these was the Rev. Charles Clarke, the celebrated elocutionist. We became great friends, and I enjoyed his society very much. The saloon was full of passengers, and I well remember the events of that sailing day. I had to deal with peppery men standing up for their rights on the one hand, and the supplications of beauty in distress on the other, whilst looking on with calm serenity were the wonderful eyes that years afterwards were to be my guiding stars. I had to exercise considerable diplomacy to arrange matters, but eventually it was done, and peace reigned for the rest of the trip. Upon that occasion we had a really live ship’s mother, and any one who has travelled much knows what that means; but she was a charming, good-natured soul, and her husband was the best tempered man I think I ever met. In case they are still alive and chance upon these lines, I should like to say that the kindest remembrances of them remain, for we were shipmates afterwards on more than one occasion. There was a very fair spell at home that time, and I had my first experience of playing expert witness in a law case. It related to the loss of a vessel on Point Padrone in Algoa Bay, and the fees we received were grateful and comforting, but the masterly summing up of the case by the then Master of the Rolls, Sir George Jessel, was a thing to remember.
We were still on the direct Algoa Bay, Natal and Zanzibar route, which was out to Natal--then to the Cape--then Zanzibar and home _via_ Cape Town. Calling at Delagoa Bay on the outward trip we took on board H. E. Governor Castilho, who was proceeding to Mozambique. He was a naval officer by profession (Portuguese) and had been well known for some years as Consul in Cape Town. He was a man of very marked ability, and spoke English perfectly. I once asked him how it was he spoke our tongue with such purity. His reply was “You learned to speak from your nurse. I learned my English from the _Spectator_.” I quite recently had a pleasant reminder of our old friendship, for he sent me his photograph. He is now an admiral, and I have to mention him more than once in these pages. There is always a certain rivalry between seamen, and it was not wanting in this case. Mozambique is a port that in those days was not entered during the hours of darkness, as there were no leading lights to ensure safe navigation. It was dark before we made the light on St. George’s Island, and Castilho observed to me that I should have to anchor outside. The spirit of opposition made me reply that I should go inside. To make a long story short I turned in just a little too soon, and the port lead gave “half four” just north of the Island light. It was coral formation and that meant very close to the bottom. Castilho, who was on the bridge said, “You are on the north side,” but I knew better, ported the helm, went full speed and was into safety once more. But it was touch-and-go. However, by this time I had got confidence on the bridge, and, thank Heaven, it never left me. I left my friend the Governor at Mozambique, for he told me he was going to the Cape _en route_ for home with me on the downward trip.