Dana Meets a Tattooed Sailor (Dec. 30)

Dana Meets a Tattooed Sailor
Dana’s description of the picturesque, pre-gold-rush California
is unique. While he was on the Pacific coast he met a British
sailor who was elaborately tattooed and of an unforgetable appearance
and personality.
Read from Dana’s Two YEARS BEFORE THE MAST Vol. 23, pp. 77-86

TRADING—A BRITISH SAILOR THE next day, the cargo having been entered in due form,
we began trading. The trade-room was fitted up in the
steerage, and furnished out with the lighter goods, and
with specimens of the rest of the cargo; and M , a young man
who came out from Boston with us, before the mast, was taken out of
the forecastle, and made supercargo’s clerk. He was well qualified
for the business, having been clerk in a counting-house in Boston.
He had been troubled for some time with the rheumatism, which
unfitted him for the wet and exposed duty of a sailor on the coast.
For a week or ten days all was life on board. The people came off
to look and to buy—men, women, and children; and we were
continually going in the boats, carrying goods and passengers,—
for they have no boats of their own. Everything must dress itself
and come aboard and see the new vessel, if it were only to buy a
paper of pins. The agent and his clerk managed the sales, while we
were busy in the hold or in the boats. Our cargo was an assorted
one; that is, it consisted of everything under the sun. We had spirits
of all kinds, (sold by the cask,) teas, coffee, sugars, spices, raisins,
molasses, hardware, crockery-ware, tinware, cutlery, clothing of all
kinds, boots and shoes from Lynn, calicoes and cottons from Lowell,
crepes, silks; also shawls, scarfs, necklaces, jewelry, and combs for
the ladies; furniture; and in fact, everything that can be imagined,
from Chinese fire-works to English cart-wheels—of which we had
a dozen pairs with their iron rims on.
The Californians are an idle, thriftless people, and can make
nothing for themselves. The country abounds in grapes, yet they
buy bad wines made in Boston and brought round by us, at an immense
price, and retail it among themselves at a real (i2l/2 cents) by
the small wine-glass. Their hides, too, which they value at two
dollars in money, they give for something which costs seventy-five

cents in Boston; and buy shoes (like as not, made of their own hides,
and which have been carried twice around Cape Horn) at three
or four dollars, and "chicken-skin" boots at fifteen dollars apiece.
Things sell, on an average, at an advance of nearly three hundred
per cent upon the Boston prices. This is partly owing to the heavy
duties which the government, in their wisdom, with the intent,
no doubt, of keeping the silver in the country, has laid upon imports.
These duties, and the enormous expenses of so long a voyage, keep
all merchants, but those of heavy capital, from engaging in the
trade. Nearly two-thirds of all the articles imported into the country
from round Cape Horn, for the last six years, have been by the
single house of Bryant, Sturgis & Co., to whom our vessel belonged,
and who have a permanent agent on the coast.
This kind of business was new to us, and we liked it very well
for a few days, though we were hard at work every minute from
daylight to dark; and sometimes even later.
By being thus continually engaged in transporting passengers
with their goods, to and fro, we gained considerable knowledge
of the character, dress, and language of the people. The dress of
the men was as I have before described it. The women wore gowns
of various texture—silks, crape, calicoes, etc.,—made after the European
style, except that the sleeves were short, leaving the arm bare,
and that they were loose about the waist, having no corsets. They
wore shoes of kid, or satin; sashes or belts of bright colors; and
•almost always a necklace and ear-rings. Bonnets they had none. I
only saw one on the coast, and that belonged to the wife of an
American sea-captain who had settled in San Diego, and had
imported the chaotic mass of straw and ribbon, as a choice present
to his new wife. They wear their hair (which is almost invariably
hlack, or a very dark brown) long in their necks, sometimes loose,
and sometimes in long braids; though the married women often
do it up on a high comb. Their only protection against the sun and
weather is a large mantle which they put over their heads, drawing
it close round their faces, when they go out of doors, which is generally
only in pleasant weather. When in the house, or sitting out
in front of it, which they often do in fine weather, they usually
wear a small scarf or neckerchief of a rich pattern. A band, also,

about the top of the head, with a cross, star, or other ornament in
front, is common. Their complexions are various, depending—as
well as their dress and manner—upon their rank; or, in other words,
upon the amount of Spanish blood they can lay claim to. Those
who are of pure Spanish blood, having never intermarried with the
aborigines, have clear brunette complexions, and sometimes, even
as fair as those of English women. There are but few of these
families in California; being mostly those in official stations, or
who, on the expiration of their offices, have settled here upon
property which they have acquired; and others who have been
banished for state offences. These form the aristocracy; intermarrying,
and keeping up an exclusive system in every respect.
They can be told by their complexions, dress, manner, and also by
their speech; for, calling themselves Castilians, they are very
ambitious of speaking the pure Castilian language, which is spoken
in a somewhat corrupted dialect by the lower classes. From this
upper class, they go down by regular shades, growing more and
more dark and muddy, until you come to the pure Indian, who
runs about with nothing upon him but a small piece of cloth, kept
up by a wide leather strap drawn round his waist. Generally
speaking, each person’s caste is decided by the quality of the blood,
which shows itself, too plainly to be concealed, at first sight. Yet
the least drop of Spanish blood, if it be only of quadroon or octoroon,
is sufficient to raise them from the rank of slaves, and entitle them
to a suit of clothes—boots, hat, cloak, spurs, long knife, and all complete,
though coarse and dirty as may be,—and to call themselves
Espanolos, and to hold property, if they can get any.
The fondness for dress among the women is excessive, and is
often the ruin of many of them. A present of a fine mantle, or of
a necklace or pair of ear-rings, gains the favor of the greater part
of them. Nothing is more common than to see a woman living in
a house of only two rooms, and the ground for a floor, dressed in
spangled satin shoes, silk gown, high comb, and gilt, if not gold,
ear-rings and necklace. If their husbands do not dress them well
enough, they will soon receive presents from others. They used to
spend whole days on board our vessels, examining the fine clothes
and ornaments, and frequently made purchases at a rate which

would have made a seamstress or waiting-maid in Boston open
her eyes.
Next to the love of dress, I was most struck with the fineness of
the voices and beauty of the intonations of both sexes. Every
common ruffian-looking fellow, with a slouched hat, blanket cloak,
dirty under-dress, and soiled leather leggins, appeared to me to be
speaking elegant Spanish. It was a pleasure, simply to listen to the
sound of the language, before I could attach any meaning to it.
They have a good deal of the Creole drawl, but it is varied with an
occasional extreme rapidity of utterance, in which they seem to skip
from consonant to consonant, until, lighting upon a broad, open
vowel, they rest upon that to restore the balance of sound. The
women carry this peculiarity of speaking to a much greater extreme
than the men, who have more evenness and stateliness of utterance.
A common bullock-driver, on horseback, delivering a message,
seemed to speak like an ambassador at an audience. In fact, they
sometimes appeared to me to be a people on whom a curse had
fallen, and stripped them of everything but their pride, their
manners, and their voices.
Another thing that surprised me was the quantity of silver that
was in circulation. I certainly never saw so much silver at one
time in my life, as during the week that we were at Monterey. The
truth is, they have no credit system, no banks, and no way of
investing money but in cattle. They have no circulating medium
but silver and hides—which the sailors call "California bank notes."
Everything that they buy they must pay for in one or the other of
these things. The hides they bring down dried and doubled, in
clumsy ox-carts, or upon mules’ backs, and the money they carry
tied up in a handkerchief;—fifty, eighty, or an hundred dollars
and half dollars.
I had never studied Spanish while at college, and could not speak
a word, when at Juan Fernandez; but during the latter part of the
passage out, I borrowed a grammar and dictionary from the cabin,
and by a continual use of these, and a careful attention to every word
that I heard spoken, I soon got a vocabulary together, and began
talking for myself. As I soon knew more Spanish than any of the
crew, (who indeed knew none at all,) and had been at college and

knew Latin, I got the name of a great linguist, and was always sent
for by the captain and officers to get provisions, or to carry letters and
messages to different parts of the town. I was often sent to get
something which I could not tell the name of to save my life; but
I liked the business, and accordingly never pleaded ignorance.
Sometimes I managed to jump below and take a look at my dictionary
before going ashore; or else I overhauled some English
resident on my way, and got the word from him; and then, by
signs, and the help of my Latin and French, contrived to get along.
This was a good exercise for me, and no doubt taught me more than
I should have learned by months of study and reading; it also gave
me opportunities of seeing the customs, characters, and domestic
arrangements of the people; beside being a great relief from the
monotony of a day spent on board ship.
Monterey, as far as my observation goes, is decidedly the pleasantest
and most civilized-looking place in California. In the centre
of it is an open square, surrounded by four lines of one-story
plastered buildings, with half a dozen cannon in the centre; some
mounted, and others not. This is the "Presidio," or fort. Every
town has a presidio in its centre; or rather, every presidio has a town
built around it; for the forts were first built by the Mexican government,
and then the people built near them for protection. The
presidio here was entirely open and unfortified. There were several
officers with long titles, and about eighty soldiers, but they were
poorly paid, fed, clothed, and disciplined. The governor-general, or,
as he is commonly called, the "general," lives here; which makes it
the seat of government. He is appointed by the central government
at Mexico, and is the chief civil and military officer. In addition to
him, each town has a commandant, who is the chief military officer,
and has charge of the fort, and of all transactions with foreigners
and foreign vessels; and two or three alcaldes and corregidores,
elected by the inhabitants, who are the civil officers. Courts and
jurisprudence they have no knowledge of. Small municipal matters
are regulated by the alcaldes and corregidores; and everything relating
to the general government, to the military, and to foreigners,
by the commandants, acting under the governor-general. Capital
cases are decided by him, upon personal inspection, if he is near;

or upon minutes sent by the proper officers, if the offender is at a
distant place. No Protestant has any civil rights, nor can he hold
any property, or, indeed, remain more than a few weeks on shore,
unless he belong to some vessel. Consequently, the Americans and
English who intend to remain here become Catholics, to a man;
the current phrase among them being,—"A man must leave his conscience
at Cape Horn."
But to return to Monterey. The houses here, as everywhere else
in California, are of one story, built of clay made into large bricks,
about a foot and a half square and three or four inches thick, and
hardened in the sun. These are cemented together by mortar of the
same material, and the whole are of a common dirt-color. The floors
are generally of earth, the windows grated and without glass; and
the doors, which are seldom shut, open directly into the common
room; there being no entries. Some of the more wealthy inhabitants
have glass to their windows and board floors; and in Monterey
nearly all the houses are plastered on the outside. The better houses,
too, have red tiles upon the roofs. The common ones have two or
three rooms which open into each other, and are furnished with a
bed or two, a few chairs and tables, a looking-glass, a crucifix of
some material or other, and small daubs of paintings enclosed in
glass, and representing some miracle or martyrdom. They have no
chimneys or fire-places in the houses, the climate being such as to
make a fire unnecessary; and all their cooking is done in a small
cook-house, separated from the house. The Indians, as I have said
before, do all the hard work, two or three being attached to each
house; and the poorest persons are able to keep one, at least, for
they have only to feed them and give them a small piece of coarse
cloth and a belt, for the males; and a coarse gown, without shoes or
stockings, for the females.
In Monterey there are a number of English and Americans (English
or "Ingles" all are called who speak the English language) who
have married Californians, become united to the Catholic church,
and acquired considerable property. Having more industry, frugality,
and enterprise than the natives, they soon get nearly all the
trade into their hands. They usually keep shops, in which they
retail the goods purchased in larger quantities from our vessels, and

also send a good deal into the interior, taking hides in pay, which
they again barter with our vessels. In every town on the coast there
are foreigners engaged in this kind of trade, while I recollect but
two shops kept by natives. The people are generally suspicious of
foreigners, and they would not be allowed to remain, were it not
that they become good Catholics, and by marrying natives, and
bringing up their children as Catholics and Mexicans, and not teaching
them the English language, they quiet suspicion, and even become
popular and leading men. The chief alcaldes in Monterey and
Santa Barbara were both Yankees by birth.
The men in Monterey appeared to me to be always on horseback.
Horses are as abundant here as dogs and chickens were in Juan Fernandez.
There are no stables to keep them in, but they are allowed
to run wild and graze wherever they please, being branded, and
having long leather ropes, called "lassos," attached to their necks
and dragging along behind them, by which they can be easily taken.
The men usually catch one in the morning, throw a saddle and
bridle upon him, and use him for the day, and let him go at night,
catching another the next day. When they go on long journeys,
they ride one horse down, and catch another, throw the saddle and
bridle upon him, and after riding him down, take a third, and so on
to the end of the journey. There are probably no better riders in
the world. They get upon a horse when only four or five years
old, their little legs not long enough to come half way over his
sides; and may almost be said to keep on him until they have grown
to him. The stirrups are covered or boxed up in front, to prevent
their catching when riding through the woods; and the saddles are
large and heavy, strapped very tight upon the horse, and have large
pommels, or loggerheads, in front, round which the "lasso" is coiled
when not in use. They can hardly go from one house to another
without getting on a horse, there being generally several standing
tied to the door-posts of the little cottages. When they wish to show
their activity, they make no use of their stirrups in mounting, but
striking the horse, spring into the saddle as he starts, and sticking
their long spurs into him, go off on the full run. Their spurs are
cruel things, having four or five rowels, each an inch in length, dull
and rusty. The flanks of the horses are often sore from them, and I

have seen men come in from chasing bullocks with their horses’
hind legs and quarters covered with blood. They frequently give
exhibitions of their horsemanship, in races, bull-baitings, etc.; but
as we were not ashore during any holyday, we saw nothing of it.
Monterey is also a great place for cock-fighting, gambling of all
sorts, fandangos, and every kind of amusement and knavery. Trappers
and hunters, who occasionally arrive here from over the Rocky
mountains, with their valuable skins and furs, are often entertained
with every sort of amusement and dissipation, until they have wasted
their time and their money, and go back, stripped of everything.
Nothing but the character of the people prevents Monterey from
becoming a great town. The soil is as rich as man could wish;
climate as good as any in the world; water abundant, and situation
extremely beautiful. The harbor, too, is a good one, being subject
only to one bad wind, the north; and though the holding-ground
is not the best, yet I heard of but one vessel’s being driven ashore
here. That was a Mexican brig, which went ashore a few months
before our arrival, and was a total wreck, all the crew but one being
drowned. Yet this was from the carelessness or ignorance of the
captain, who paid out all his small cable before he let go his other
anchor. The ship Lagoda, of Boston, was there at the time, and rode
out the gale in safety, without dragging at all, or finding it necessary
to strike her top-gallant masts.
The only vessel in port with us was the little Loriotte. I frequently
went on board her, and became very well acquainted with her
Sandwich Island crew. One of them could speak a little English,
and from him I learned a good deal about them. They were well
formed and active, with black eyes, intelligent countenances, darkolive,
or, I should rather say, copper complexions and coarse black
hair, but not woolly like the negroes. They appeared to be talking
continually. In the forecastle there was a complete Babel. Their
language is extremely guttural, and not pleasant at first, but improves
as you hear it more, and is said to have great capacity. They
use a good deal of gesticulation, and are exceedingly animated,
saying with their might what their tongues find to say. They are
complete water-dogs, therefore very good in boating. It is for this
reason that there are so many of them on the coast of California;
they being very good hands in the surf. They are also quick and

active in the rigging, and good hands in warm weather; but those
who have been with them round Cape Horn, and in high latitudes,
say that they are useless in cold weather. In their dress they are
precisely like our sailors. In addition to these Islanders, the vessel
had two English sailors, who acted as boatswains over the Islanders,
and took care of the rigging. One of them I shall always remember
as the best specimen of the thoroughbred English sailor that I ever
saw. He had been to sea from a boy, having served a regular
apprenticeship of seven years, as all English sailors are obliged to
do, and was then about four or five and twenty. He was tall; but
you only perceived it when he was standing by the side of others,
for the great breadth of his shoulders and chest made him appear
but little above the middle height. His chest was as deep as it was
wide; his arm like that of Hercules; and his hand "the fist of a tar
—every hair a rope-yarn." With all this he had one of the pleasantest
smiles I ever saw. His cheeks were of a handsome brown; his
teeth brilliantly white; and his hair, of a raven black, waved in
loose curls all over his head, and fine, open forehead; and his eyes
he might have sold to a duchess at the price of diamonds, for their
brilliancy. As for their color, they were like the Irishman’s pig,
which would not stay to be counted, every change of position and
light seemed to give them a new hue; but their prevailing color was
black, or nearly so. Take him with his well-varnished black tarpaulin
stuck upon the back of his head; his long locks coming down almost
into his eyes; his white duck trowsers and shirt; blue jacket; and
black kerchief, tied loosely round his neck; and he was a fine specimen
of manly beauty. On his broad chest he had stamped with India
ink "Parting moments;"—a ship ready to sail; a boat on the beach;
and a girl and her sailor lover taking their farewell. Underneath
were printed the initials of his own name, and two other
letters, standing for some name which he knew better than I did.
This was very well done, having been executed by a man who made
it his business to print with India ink, for sailors, at Havre. On
one of his broad arms, he had the crucifixion, and on the other the
sign of the "foul anchor."
He was very fond of reading, and we lent him most of the books
which we had in the forecastle, which he read and returned to us
the next time we fell in with him. He had a good deal of informa-


tion, and his captain said he was a perfect seaman, and worth his
weight in gold on board a vessel, in fair weather and in foul. His
strength must have been great, and he had the sight of a vulture.
It is strange that one should be so minute in the description of an
unknown, outcast sailor, whom one may never see again, and whom
no one may care to hear about; but so it is. Some people we see
under no remarkable circumstances, but whom, for some reason or
other, we never forget. He called himself Bill Jackson; and I know
no one of all my accidental acquaintances to whom I would more
gladly give a shake of the hand than to him. Whoever falls in with
him will find a handsome, hearty fellow, and a good shipmate.
Sunday came again while we were at Monterey, but as before,
it brought us no holyday. The people on shore dressed themselves
and came off in greater numbers than ever, and we were employed
all day in boating and breaking out cargo, so that we had
hardly time to eat. Our cidevant second mate, who was determined
to get liberty if it was to be had, dressed himself in a long coat and
black hat, and polished his shoes, and went aft and asked to go
ashore. He could not have done a more imprudent thing; for he
knew that no liberty would be given; and besides, sailors, however
sure they may be of having liberty granted them always go aft in
their working clothes, to appear as though they had no reason to
expect anything, and then wash, dress, and shave, after they get
their liberty. But this poor fellow was always getting into hot water,
and if there was a wrong way of doing a thing, was sure to hit
upon it. We looked to see him go aft, knowing pretty well what
his reception would be. The captain was walking the quarter-deck,
smoking his morning cigar, and F went as far as the break of
the deck, and there waited for him to notice him. The captain
took two or three turns, and then walking directly up to him, surveyed
him from head to foot, and lifting up his forefinger, said a
word or two, in a tone too low for us to hear, but which had a
magical effect upon poor F . He walked forward, sprang into
the forecastle, and in a moment more made his appearance in his
common clothes, and went quietly to work again. What the
captain said to him, we never could get him to tell, but it certainly
changed him outwardly and inwardly in a most surprising manner

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