SEA-WRACK 25 



finally and completely. I had never sailed on 

 a vessel of this name before, the " Yamaro," 

 and yet at certain moments an oblique glance 

 brought a flash of memory, of a familiar hatch- 

 way, a rail which fitted snugly under one's 

 elbows, a stretch of open deck which seemed 

 too much of a known path for these few days' 

 acquaintance. As I talked with the Trinidad 

 negro lookout on the forward deck, I saw a 

 brass coolie plate roll out of the galley, and I 

 wondered. There were only negroes among 

 the crew. Then one day I donned my leather 

 waistcoat and climbed down to my anchor flukes, 

 and my mystery was solved. In clear new 

 letters the name of the vessel appeared 

 along the side of the bow above me, but a 

 second glance showed me something else: 

 a palimpsest of old corroded sites of four 

 letters, painted out, which once had sent 

 their message to so many inquiring eyes: 

 Pegu. 



Long ago, on trips of unalloyed happiness, I 

 had traveled between Colombo and Rangoon 

 on this selfsame steamer, which now, caught in 

 some unusual stress of distant demand of war, 

 had with her sister ships been taken from her 



