"1 he danger is your own boat, for it is not given to every
man to do like my gigantic friend, Captain Heldt, and swim
ashore and crawl up the beach, with three ribs broken, and
his legs temporarily paralysed, by having a heavy surf-
boat hurled by a wave on to his back, while engaged in
an independent venture to reach the shore, after a catastrophe
on the outer breakers. And let me add that when
you are advised in a yell to jump into the surf by the black
bo’sn of the windward coast, or the equally black Padrone of
the Coast, do so “ one time.” Never mind those sharks,
but mind and jump out on the windward side of the boat,
the side that the surf is breaking against, the side that looks
the worst, for by this means you may keep clear of the boat.
I do not advise you to take a white man’s advice as to jumping
until you have gone through his genealogy and ascertained
that beyond doubt he is a direct descendant of George
Washington. There was a nice young doctor once on a S.W.
Coast boat, who did not pursue this plan, and did not know
that in this nineteenth century it is every man’s duty to keep
his powers of belief for religious purposes; so this doctor
frittered his powers away on old coasters and sea-captains,
most excellent people, but supremely human. I am one
myself now, so I speak with authority ; only the information
we lavish on the new-comer is often too strong for him, and
it was so in this doctor’s case. They had told him about the
surf; how you had to jump and swim the last breakers of
it as soon as you heard the shout, and so on ; so when
going ashore at Batanga, the gallant boat-boys gave the
rousing war-yell with which it is their custom to greet
their enemy, “ with that stern joy a warrior feels,” over
the side the doctor went like a shot, to the horror of the
remorse-smitten sea-captain, who was in the boat. He got
through all right, however. Now and again, I own, the newcomer
scores. There was one who came out for the Government
to Accra, where the surf is notorious. The boat got
upset in the first line of breakers, and there was as bad
a surf on that day as Accra ever rose. When he got ashore,
the old coasters thought he would be impressed and terrified;
but no,.. He just remarked it was lucky he had such a
good day for landing, “ for he’d only had to swim the last
fifty yards.”
And finally, as the preacher says, remember it is highly
advisable to have your conscience clear, at any rate regarding
your past treatment of your Kru or Accra boat-boys, before
you trust yourself to them to take you through a surf. There
was a bad man once on the Gold Coast who had ill-used his men
and when they took him out through the surf to go aboard
the ship that was to take him home, there was the usual catastrophe,
which no one thought -much of, only saying “ It was
hard on B. just as he was going home,” until the body of B.
came ashore, and then, in the clothes, were found three iron
shark hooks, with lots of line attached, wherewith the men had
held B. back from shore, and played him like a fish, until the
surf beat the life out of him.
Forgive this digression on surf, but a coaster cannot help
going on like this as soon as his pet enemy is mentioned, and
I humbly return to African apparitions. There is one thing
about the surf that I do not understand, and that is why
•witches always walk stark naked along the beach by it
at night, and eat sea crabs the while. That such is a
confirmed habit of theirs is certain; and they tell me that
while doing this the witches emit a bright light, and also that
there is a certain medicine, which, if you have it with you, you
can throw over the witch, and then he, or she, will remain
blazing until morning time, running to and fro, crying out
wildly, in front of the white, breaking, thundering surf wall,
and when the dawn comes the fire burns the witch right
up, leaving only a grey ash— and palaver set in this world
and the next for that witch.
A highly-esteemed native minister told me when I was at
Cape Coast last, that a fortnight before, he had been away in
the Apollonia district on mission work. One evening he and
a friend were walking along the beach and the night was dark,
so that you could see only the surf. It is never too dark to
see that, it seems to have light in itself. They saw a flame
coming towards them, and after a moment’s doubt they knew
it was a witch, and feeling frightened, hid themselves among
the bushes that edge the sandy shore. As they watched, it
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