112 



The Sailor — or the Value of a Potaioe. 



Vol. XII. 



For the Farmers' Cabinet. 



The Sailor— or the Value of a Potatoe. 



In the Farmer|' Cabinet for last month, is 

 re-printed an article by the late S. G. Per- 

 kins, of Boston, on the merits of the differ- 

 ent varieties of pears; and in illustration of 

 the diversities of tastes in relation to fruits, 

 an anecdote is related of a sailor, who, just 

 from a voyage, had chosen from a rich varie- 

 ty of fruits in Boston market, a green cu 

 cumber, and while greedily eating it, bitter 

 end first, said to one of the amused specta 

 tors, " If you will believe me, sir, it is the 

 first I have tasted this year." Now, Jack 

 thought, by this remark, he fully explained 

 to the bystanders the ground of the singu- 

 larity he knew he was exhibiting to the 

 "landsmen;" and so he did, for those about 

 him were somewhat familiar with the habits 

 of the sailor and his wants. But the editor 

 of the Cabinet has a note upon this anecdote, 

 which shows conclusively, I think, that he 

 is not familiar with them; and I feel quite 

 sure, if at all successful in my attempt to 

 explain the matter, I shall receive his thanks. 

 "We should rather incline to call this an 

 instance of the sailor's coarse appetite, than 

 his taste." This is the beginning of the 

 note, what follows being a just criticism on 

 the misapplication of the word taste, and 

 not explanatory of the part quoted. 



To the words " coarse appetite,^'' I object, 

 as implying moral degradation, or, vulgar 

 caprice ; whereas. Jack was in no degree 

 accountable for his peculiarity; for his taste 

 was depraved or diseased by circumstances, 

 over which he had no control; or, rather, 

 his blood was vitiated, his body predisposed 

 to disease by a long voyage; and the pecu- 

 liar appetite, like the instincts of the lower 

 annuals, was the pointing of unerring Wis- 

 dom to the best attainable remedy; and I am 

 sure the editor of the Cabinet would not call 

 anything proceeding from this source, "com- 

 mon or unclean." 



It is difficult for him who has all his life 

 breathed an atmosphere teeming with the 

 emanations of the fresh earth, and who has 

 known no want of its recent products upon 

 his table, to conceive the feelings, the long- 

 ings of him, who for six successive months 

 has not been gladdened by the sight of land; 

 the salt air, the salt spray, "salt junk," and 

 worm-eaten bread, with water that has long 

 ceased to be pure, his sole companions and 

 support. 



I believe the whaling fleet from the United 

 States alone, employs about 10000 men ; many 

 of them are gone from home four years, touch- 

 ing at ports every four to six months, for 

 such fresh water and vegetables as the port 



may furnish; but as the "fishing grounds"* 

 are almost wholly intertropical, such vegeta- 

 bles as they obtain keep but a short time; 

 hence the condition of the men on these 

 long voyages, is often such as I have repre- 

 sented ; only sometimes they are on a short 

 allowance of this hard fare. No long time 

 elapses under these circumstances, before 

 nature begins to succumb; scorbutic symp- 

 toms arise; languor, debility, bleeding at the 

 mouth, and dropsical effusions occur; and 

 when the deprivation is greatly protracted, 

 it is not unusual to find a considerable part 

 of the crew off. duty from this cause. The 

 sailor who prides himself upon his alacrity 

 in the performance of his rugged offices, 

 alow and aloft, by day and by night, in fair 

 weather and foul, looses his strength and his 

 ambition; he has no pain, but his feet swell, 

 his appetite for such as the ship affords, fails, 

 and he moves languidly about; a few more 

 weeks or days, and a watery blood flows 

 from his mouth, his breathing is laboured; 

 effusion of water is taking place in the 

 chest ; he can no longer go aloft, and soon 

 he goes below, never to re-appear on deck, 

 unless timely relief comes to his aid. All 

 these symptoms are unattended with pain; 

 t)ut they are preceded and accompanied 

 throughout, with the intensest longing for 

 fresh vegetables; and these, — with an ex- 

 ception or two not here worth naming, — are 

 his only remedy; with them he lives, with- 

 out them he dies. The pointings of nature, 

 in this case, are both curious and instructive; 

 the lemon, the melon, and all fresh fruits, 

 are acceptable and useful ; but the most 

 urgent call is for the cruder vegetables, as 

 the potatoe, the cabbage, &c., and this in 

 their crudest state, uncooked — raw! Yes, 

 the Irish potatoe, raw ! ! Ever}' sailor who 

 has been so placed, and every physician who 

 has been much conversant with their dis- 

 eases, knows that these are the very reme- 

 dies, and this the very mode of administer- 

 ing them, that most speedily and most surely 

 restores the prostrated man to health. 



Now, a ship with one-fourth of her crew 

 below, and few of the remainder quite well, 

 "puts away" for the land; but she is six 

 weeks, good sailing, from the nearest port, 

 and some of her sick must be buried in the 

 ocean without more timely relief How 

 anxiously does every eye watch for a pass- 

 ing ship — no common occurrence in the mid- 

 Pacific — with a hope that she may be late 

 from some haven, and yet have a few fresh 

 vegetables. The ship is hailed, and — what 

 is more precious than silver or gold — a few 

 potatoes are obtained — the captain is the 



• 



* Alias, fathomless Oceans. 



