July 25, 2025 • 15 mins
Immerse yourself in the captivating tales of Jack and Charmian Londons adventurous journey across the Pacific between 1907 and 1909, detailed in The Cruise of the Snark. This memoir not only introduces and popularizes the royal sport of surf-riding but also vividly depicts the thrill and beauty of the Pacific. Experience the exhilarating rush of riding the crest of a breaker, the sensation of being flung landward by the powerful sea, and the challenge of trying to match the skill of a Kanaka on a surf-board. This striking narrative captures the essence of living life to the fullest, promising a reading experience as invigorating as the pounding surf.
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Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter thirteen of the Crews of the Snark. This is
a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
The Crews of the Snark by Jack London, Chapter thirteen,
the stone Fishing of Borabora. At five in the morning,
(00:24):
the conks began to blow from all along the beach.
The eerie sounds arose, like the ancient voice of war,
calling to the fishermen to arise and prepare to go forth.
We on the Snark, likewise arose, for there could be
no sleep in that mad din of conks. Also, we
were going stone fishing, though our preparations were few. Tata
(00:47):
Yi Tiura is the name for stone fishing, tatayi meaning
a fishing instrument and taiura meaning throne. But Tatai tiura
in combination means stone fishing, for a stone is the
instrument that is thrown. Stone fishing is in reality a
fish drive, similar in principle to a rabbit drive or
(01:09):
cattle drive, though in the latter affairs drivers and driven
operate in the same medium, while in the fish drive
the men must be in the air to breathe, and
the fish are driven through the water. It does not
matter if the water is a hundred feet deep. The
men working on the surface drive the fish just the same.
(01:30):
This is the way it is done. The canoes form
in line one hundred to two hundred feet apart. In
the bow of each canoe, a man wields a stone
several pounds in weight, which is attached to a short rope.
He merely smites the water with the stone, pulls up
the stone and smites again. He goes on smiting. In
(01:51):
the stern of each canoe, another man paddles, driving the
canoe ahead and at the same time keeping it in
the formation. The line of canoe advances to meet a
second line a mile or two away, the ends of
the lines hurrying together to form a circle, the far
edge of which is the shore. The circle begins to
contract upon the shore, where the women, standing in a
(02:15):
long row out into the sea, form a fenceive legs,
which serves to break any rushes of the frantic fish.
At the right moment, when the circle is sufficiently small,
a canoe dashes out from shore, dropping overboard a long
screen of cocoanut leaves, and encircling the circle, thus reinforcing
(02:36):
the palisade of legs. Of course, the fishing is always
done inside the reef. In the lagoon Treajuolis, the gendarmes said,
after explaining by signs and gestures, that thousands of fish
would be caught of all sizes, from minnows to sharks,
and that the captured fish would boil up and upon
(02:57):
the very sand of the beach. It is a most
successful method of fishing, while its nature is more that
of an outing festival rather than of a prosaic food
getting task. Such fishing parties take place about once a
month at Borabora, and it is a custom that is
descended from old time. The man who originated it is
(03:19):
not remembered. They always did this thing. But one cannot
help wondering about that forgotten savage of the long ago
into whose mind first flashed this scheme of easy fishing,
of catching a huge quantities of fish without hook or
net or spear. One thing about him. We can know
(03:40):
he was a radical, and we can be sure that
he was considered feather brained and anarchistic by his conservative tribesmen.
His difficulty was much greater than that of the modern inventor,
who has to convince in advance only one or two capitalists.
That early inventor had to convey his whole tribe in advance,
(04:02):
for without the co operation of the whole tribe, the
device could not be tested. One can well imagine the
knightly pow wowings in that primitive island world when he
called his comrades antiquated mossbacks, and they called him a fool,
a freak, and a crank, and charged him with having
come from Kansas. Heaven alone knows at what cost of
(04:25):
gray hairs and expletives he must finally have succeeded in
winning over a sufficient number to give his idea a trial.
At any rate, the experiment succeeded. It stood the test
of truth, It worked, and thereafter we can be confident
there was no man to be found who did not
know all along that it was going to work. Our
(04:48):
good friends Tehai and Bihara, who were given the fishing
in our honor, had promised to come for us. We
were down below when the call came from on deck
that they were coming. We dashed up the companionway to
be overwhelmed by the sight of the Polynesian barge in
which we were to ride. It was a long double canoe,
the canoes lashed together by timbers, with an interval of
(05:11):
water between, and the whole decorated with flowers and golden grasses.
A dozen flower crowned amazons were at the paddles, while
at the stern of each canoe was a strapping steersman.
All were garlanded with gold and crimson and orange flowers,
while each wore about the hips a scarlet peree. There
(05:33):
were flowers everywhere, flowers, flowers, flowers without end. The whole
thing was an orgy of color. On the platform forward,
resting on the boughs of the canoes, Tehai and Bihara
were dancing. All voices were raised in a wild song,
were greeting three times. They circled the snark before coming
alongside to take Charmian and me on board. Then it
(05:56):
was away for the fishing grounds, a five mile paddle.
Dead to win. Everyone is jolly, and bora bora is
the saying throughout the society islands, and we certainly found
everybody jolly. Canoe songs, shark songs and fishing songs were
sung to the dipping of the paddles, all joining in
on the swinging choruses. Once in a while the cry
(06:19):
mao was raised, whereupon all strained like mad as the paddles.
Mao is shark, And when the deep sea tigers appear,
the natives paddle for dear life for the shore, knowing
full well the danger they run of having their frail
canoes overturned and of being devoured. Of course, in our
case there were no sharks, but the cry of Mao
(06:42):
was used to incite them to paddle with as much
energy as if the shark were really after them. Ho
Ho was another cry that made us foam through the water.
On the platform, Tehai and Bihara danced, accompanied by songs
and choruses, or byworthmic hand clappings. At other times, a
musical knocking of the paddles against the side of the
(07:03):
canoes marked the accent. A young girl dropped her paddle,
leaped to the platform, and danced a hula in the
midst of which, still dancing, she swayed and bent and
imprinted on our cheeks the kiss of welcome. Some of
the songs or hymaynes, were religious, and they were especially beautiful.
(07:23):
The deep basses of the men, mingling with the altos
and thin sopranos of the women, and forming a combination
of sound that irresistibly reminded one of an organ. In fact,
Kannaka organ is the Scoffer's description of the Hymene. On
the other hand, some of the chants or ballads were
very barbaric, having come down from pre Christian times, and
(07:47):
so singing, dancing, paddling. These joyous Polynesians took us to
the fishing. The gendarmes, who is the French ruler of
Bora Bora, accompanied us with his family in a double
canoe of his own, paddled by his prisoners. For not
only is he a gendarmein ruler, but he is jailer
as well. And in this jolly land, when anybody goes fishing,
(08:10):
all go fishing. A score of single canoes with outriggers
padded along with us. Around a point a big sailing
canoe appeared, running beautifully before the wind. As it bore
down to greet us. Balancing precariously on the outrigger, three
young men saluted us with the wild rolling of drums.
(08:32):
The next point, half a mile farther on brought us
to the place of meeting. Here. The launch, which had
been brought along by Warren and Martin, attracted much attention.
The booroborns could not see what made it go. The
canoes were drawn upon the sand, and all hands went
ashore to drink cocoa, nuts and sing and dance. Here
(08:54):
our numbers were added to by many who arrived on
foot from near by dwellings. And a pretty sight it
was to see the flower crowned maidens hand in hand
and two by two, arriving along the sands. They usually
make a big catch. Aliquot, a half case trader, told
us at the finish, the water is fairly alive with fish.
(09:16):
It is lots of fun. Of course, you know all
the fish will be yours. All I groaned, for already
the snark was loaded down with lavish presents by the canoe,
load of fruits, vegetables, pigs and chickens. Yes, every last fish,
Alicott answered. You see, when the surround is completed, you,
being the guest of honor, must take a harpoon and
(09:39):
impale the first one. It is the custom. Then everybody
goes in with their hands and throws the catch out
on the sand. There will be a mountain of them.
Then one of the chiefs will make a speech in
which he presents you with the whole kit and boodle,
but you don't have to take them all. You get
up and make a speech, selecting what fish you want
(09:59):
for yourself, and presenting all the rest back again. Then
everyone says, you are very generous. But what would be
the result if I kept the whole present? I ask.
It has never happened, was the answer. It is the
custom to give and give back again. The native minister
started with the prayer for success in the fishing, and
(10:19):
all heads were bared. Next the chief fishermen told off
the canoes and allotted them their places. Then it was
into the canoes and away. No women, however, came along
with the exception of Bihara and Charmian. In the old days,
even they would have been tabooed. The women remained behind
to wade out into the water and form the palisade
(10:42):
of legs. The big double canoe was left on the
beach and we went in the launch. Half the canoes
paddled off to leeward, while we with the other half
headed to windward a mile and a half until the
end of our line was in touch with the reef.
The leader of the drive occupied a canoe midway in
our line. He stood erect, a fine figure of an
(11:05):
old man, holding a flag in his hand. He directed
the taking of positions and the forming of the two
lines by blowing on a conk. When all was ready,
he waved his flag to the right with a single splash.
The throwers in every canoe on that side struck the
water with their stones while they were hauling them back.
(11:27):
A matter of a moment, for the stones scarcely sank
beneath the surface. The flag wave to the left, and
with admirable precision, every stone on that side struck the water,
so it went back and forth, right and left. With
every wave of the flag, a long line of concussion
smote the lagoon. At the same time, the paddles drove
(11:49):
the canoes forward, and what was being done in our
line was being done in the opposing line of canoes
a mile and more away. On the bow of the
launch to Hi, with eyes fixed on the leader, worked
his stone in unison with the others. Once the stone
slipped from the rope, and the same instant to high
went overboard after it. I do not know whether or
(12:10):
not that stone reached the bottom. But I do know
that the next instant to high broke surface alongside with
the stone in his hand. I noticed the same accident
occur several times among the nearby canoes, but in each
instance the thrower followed the stone and brought it back.
The reef ends of our lines accelerated, the shore ends lagged,
(12:32):
all under the watchful supervision of the leader, until at
the reef the two lines joined, forming the circle. Then
the contraction of the circle began. The poor frightened fish
harried shoreward by the streaks of concussion that smote the water.
In the same fashion elephants are driven through the jungle
by moats of men, who crouch in the long grasses
(12:55):
or behind trees and make strange noises. Already the palis
of legs had been built. We could see the heads
of the women in a long line dotting the placid
surface of the lagoon. The tallest women went farthest out. Thus,
with the exception of those close inshore, nearly all were
up to their necks in the water. Still, the circle
(13:18):
narrowed till canoes were almost touching. There was a pause.
A long canoe shot out from shore, following the line
of the circle. It went as fast as paddles could drive.
In the stern. A man threw overboard the long, continuous
screen of cocoanut leaves. The canoes were no longer needed,
(13:40):
and overboard went the men to reinforce the palisade with
their legs, For the screen was only a screen and
not a net, and the fish could dash through it
if they tried. Hence the need for legs that ever
agitated the screen, and for hands that splashed and throats
that yelled. Pandemonium rained as the trap tightened, but no
(14:02):
fish broke surface or collided against the hidden legs. At last,
the chief fisherman entered the trap. He waited around everywhere carefully,
but there were no fish boiling up and out upon
the sand. There was not a sardine, not a minnow,
not a pollywog. Something must have been wrong with that
prayer or else, and more likely, as one grizzled fellow
(14:24):
put it, the wind was not in its usual quarter
and the fish were elsewhere in the lagoon. In fact,
there had been no fish to drive about once in
five These drives are failures. Alcot consoled us well. It
was the stone fishing that had brought us to Borabora,
and it was our luck to draw the one chance
in five. Had it been a raffle, it would have
(14:47):
been the other way about. This is not pessimism, nor
is it an indictment of the plan of the universe.
It is merely that feeling which is familiar to most
fishermen at the empty end of a hard day. End
of Chapter thirteen. Recording by Pam Burton in Hayes, Virginia,
(15:08):
February seventh, two thousand nine.
Chapter thirteen of the Crews of the Snark. This is
a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
The Crews of the Snark by Jack London, Chapter thirteen,
the stone Fishing of Borabora. At five in the morning,
(00:24):
the conks began to blow from all along the beach.
The eerie sounds arose, like the ancient voice of war,
calling to the fishermen to arise and prepare to go forth.
We on the Snark, likewise arose, for there could be
no sleep in that mad din of conks. Also, we
were going stone fishing, though our preparations were few. Tata
(00:47):
Yi Tiura is the name for stone fishing, tatayi meaning
a fishing instrument and taiura meaning throne. But Tatai tiura
in combination means stone fishing, for a stone is the
instrument that is thrown. Stone fishing is in reality a
fish drive, similar in principle to a rabbit drive or
(01:09):
cattle drive, though in the latter affairs drivers and driven
operate in the same medium, while in the fish drive
the men must be in the air to breathe, and
the fish are driven through the water. It does not
matter if the water is a hundred feet deep. The
men working on the surface drive the fish just the same.
(01:30):
This is the way it is done. The canoes form
in line one hundred to two hundred feet apart. In
the bow of each canoe, a man wields a stone
several pounds in weight, which is attached to a short rope.
He merely smites the water with the stone, pulls up
the stone and smites again. He goes on smiting. In
(01:51):
the stern of each canoe, another man paddles, driving the
canoe ahead and at the same time keeping it in
the formation. The line of canoe advances to meet a
second line a mile or two away, the ends of
the lines hurrying together to form a circle, the far
edge of which is the shore. The circle begins to
contract upon the shore, where the women, standing in a
(02:15):
long row out into the sea, form a fenceive legs,
which serves to break any rushes of the frantic fish.
At the right moment, when the circle is sufficiently small,
a canoe dashes out from shore, dropping overboard a long
screen of cocoanut leaves, and encircling the circle, thus reinforcing
(02:36):
the palisade of legs. Of course, the fishing is always
done inside the reef. In the lagoon Treajuolis, the gendarmes said,
after explaining by signs and gestures, that thousands of fish
would be caught of all sizes, from minnows to sharks,
and that the captured fish would boil up and upon
(02:57):
the very sand of the beach. It is a most
successful method of fishing, while its nature is more that
of an outing festival rather than of a prosaic food
getting task. Such fishing parties take place about once a
month at Borabora, and it is a custom that is
descended from old time. The man who originated it is
(03:19):
not remembered. They always did this thing. But one cannot
help wondering about that forgotten savage of the long ago
into whose mind first flashed this scheme of easy fishing,
of catching a huge quantities of fish without hook or
net or spear. One thing about him. We can know
(03:40):
he was a radical, and we can be sure that
he was considered feather brained and anarchistic by his conservative tribesmen.
His difficulty was much greater than that of the modern inventor,
who has to convince in advance only one or two capitalists.
That early inventor had to convey his whole tribe in advance,
(04:02):
for without the co operation of the whole tribe, the
device could not be tested. One can well imagine the
knightly pow wowings in that primitive island world when he
called his comrades antiquated mossbacks, and they called him a fool,
a freak, and a crank, and charged him with having
come from Kansas. Heaven alone knows at what cost of
(04:25):
gray hairs and expletives he must finally have succeeded in
winning over a sufficient number to give his idea a trial.
At any rate, the experiment succeeded. It stood the test
of truth, It worked, and thereafter we can be confident
there was no man to be found who did not
know all along that it was going to work. Our
(04:48):
good friends Tehai and Bihara, who were given the fishing
in our honor, had promised to come for us. We
were down below when the call came from on deck
that they were coming. We dashed up the companionway to
be overwhelmed by the sight of the Polynesian barge in
which we were to ride. It was a long double canoe,
the canoes lashed together by timbers, with an interval of
(05:11):
water between, and the whole decorated with flowers and golden grasses.
A dozen flower crowned amazons were at the paddles, while
at the stern of each canoe was a strapping steersman.
All were garlanded with gold and crimson and orange flowers,
while each wore about the hips a scarlet peree. There
(05:33):
were flowers everywhere, flowers, flowers, flowers without end. The whole
thing was an orgy of color. On the platform forward,
resting on the boughs of the canoes, Tehai and Bihara
were dancing. All voices were raised in a wild song,
were greeting three times. They circled the snark before coming
alongside to take Charmian and me on board. Then it
(05:56):
was away for the fishing grounds, a five mile paddle.
Dead to win. Everyone is jolly, and bora bora is
the saying throughout the society islands, and we certainly found
everybody jolly. Canoe songs, shark songs and fishing songs were
sung to the dipping of the paddles, all joining in
on the swinging choruses. Once in a while the cry
(06:19):
mao was raised, whereupon all strained like mad as the paddles.
Mao is shark, And when the deep sea tigers appear,
the natives paddle for dear life for the shore, knowing
full well the danger they run of having their frail
canoes overturned and of being devoured. Of course, in our
case there were no sharks, but the cry of Mao
(06:42):
was used to incite them to paddle with as much
energy as if the shark were really after them. Ho
Ho was another cry that made us foam through the water.
On the platform, Tehai and Bihara danced, accompanied by songs
and choruses, or byworthmic hand clappings. At other times, a
musical knocking of the paddles against the side of the
(07:03):
canoes marked the accent. A young girl dropped her paddle,
leaped to the platform, and danced a hula in the
midst of which, still dancing, she swayed and bent and
imprinted on our cheeks the kiss of welcome. Some of
the songs or hymaynes, were religious, and they were especially beautiful.
(07:23):
The deep basses of the men, mingling with the altos
and thin sopranos of the women, and forming a combination
of sound that irresistibly reminded one of an organ. In fact,
Kannaka organ is the Scoffer's description of the Hymene. On
the other hand, some of the chants or ballads were
very barbaric, having come down from pre Christian times, and
(07:47):
so singing, dancing, paddling. These joyous Polynesians took us to
the fishing. The gendarmes, who is the French ruler of
Bora Bora, accompanied us with his family in a double
canoe of his own, paddled by his prisoners. For not
only is he a gendarmein ruler, but he is jailer
as well. And in this jolly land, when anybody goes fishing,
(08:10):
all go fishing. A score of single canoes with outriggers
padded along with us. Around a point a big sailing
canoe appeared, running beautifully before the wind. As it bore
down to greet us. Balancing precariously on the outrigger, three
young men saluted us with the wild rolling of drums.
(08:32):
The next point, half a mile farther on brought us
to the place of meeting. Here. The launch, which had
been brought along by Warren and Martin, attracted much attention.
The booroborns could not see what made it go. The
canoes were drawn upon the sand, and all hands went
ashore to drink cocoa, nuts and sing and dance. Here
(08:54):
our numbers were added to by many who arrived on
foot from near by dwellings. And a pretty sight it
was to see the flower crowned maidens hand in hand
and two by two, arriving along the sands. They usually
make a big catch. Aliquot, a half case trader, told
us at the finish, the water is fairly alive with fish.
(09:16):
It is lots of fun. Of course, you know all
the fish will be yours. All I groaned, for already
the snark was loaded down with lavish presents by the canoe,
load of fruits, vegetables, pigs and chickens. Yes, every last fish,
Alicott answered. You see, when the surround is completed, you,
being the guest of honor, must take a harpoon and
(09:39):
impale the first one. It is the custom. Then everybody
goes in with their hands and throws the catch out
on the sand. There will be a mountain of them.
Then one of the chiefs will make a speech in
which he presents you with the whole kit and boodle,
but you don't have to take them all. You get
up and make a speech, selecting what fish you want
(09:59):
for yourself, and presenting all the rest back again. Then
everyone says, you are very generous. But what would be
the result if I kept the whole present? I ask.
It has never happened, was the answer. It is the
custom to give and give back again. The native minister
started with the prayer for success in the fishing, and
(10:19):
all heads were bared. Next the chief fishermen told off
the canoes and allotted them their places. Then it was
into the canoes and away. No women, however, came along
with the exception of Bihara and Charmian. In the old days,
even they would have been tabooed. The women remained behind
to wade out into the water and form the palisade
(10:42):
of legs. The big double canoe was left on the
beach and we went in the launch. Half the canoes
paddled off to leeward, while we with the other half
headed to windward a mile and a half until the
end of our line was in touch with the reef.
The leader of the drive occupied a canoe midway in
our line. He stood erect, a fine figure of an
(11:05):
old man, holding a flag in his hand. He directed
the taking of positions and the forming of the two
lines by blowing on a conk. When all was ready,
he waved his flag to the right with a single splash.
The throwers in every canoe on that side struck the
water with their stones while they were hauling them back.
(11:27):
A matter of a moment, for the stones scarcely sank
beneath the surface. The flag wave to the left, and
with admirable precision, every stone on that side struck the water,
so it went back and forth, right and left. With
every wave of the flag, a long line of concussion
smote the lagoon. At the same time, the paddles drove
(11:49):
the canoes forward, and what was being done in our
line was being done in the opposing line of canoes
a mile and more away. On the bow of the
launch to Hi, with eyes fixed on the leader, worked
his stone in unison with the others. Once the stone
slipped from the rope, and the same instant to high
went overboard after it. I do not know whether or
(12:10):
not that stone reached the bottom. But I do know
that the next instant to high broke surface alongside with
the stone in his hand. I noticed the same accident
occur several times among the nearby canoes, but in each
instance the thrower followed the stone and brought it back.
The reef ends of our lines accelerated, the shore ends lagged,
(12:32):
all under the watchful supervision of the leader, until at
the reef the two lines joined, forming the circle. Then
the contraction of the circle began. The poor frightened fish
harried shoreward by the streaks of concussion that smote the water.
In the same fashion elephants are driven through the jungle
by moats of men, who crouch in the long grasses
(12:55):
or behind trees and make strange noises. Already the palis
of legs had been built. We could see the heads
of the women in a long line dotting the placid
surface of the lagoon. The tallest women went farthest out. Thus,
with the exception of those close inshore, nearly all were
up to their necks in the water. Still, the circle
(13:18):
narrowed till canoes were almost touching. There was a pause.
A long canoe shot out from shore, following the line
of the circle. It went as fast as paddles could drive.
In the stern. A man threw overboard the long, continuous
screen of cocoanut leaves. The canoes were no longer needed,
(13:40):
and overboard went the men to reinforce the palisade with
their legs, For the screen was only a screen and
not a net, and the fish could dash through it
if they tried. Hence the need for legs that ever
agitated the screen, and for hands that splashed and throats
that yelled. Pandemonium rained as the trap tightened, but no
(14:02):
fish broke surface or collided against the hidden legs. At last,
the chief fisherman entered the trap. He waited around everywhere carefully,
but there were no fish boiling up and out upon
the sand. There was not a sardine, not a minnow,
not a pollywog. Something must have been wrong with that
prayer or else, and more likely, as one grizzled fellow
(14:24):
put it, the wind was not in its usual quarter
and the fish were elsewhere in the lagoon. In fact,
there had been no fish to drive about once in
five These drives are failures. Alcot consoled us well. It
was the stone fishing that had brought us to Borabora,
and it was our luck to draw the one chance
in five. Had it been a raffle, it would have
(14:47):
been the other way about. This is not pessimism, nor
is it an indictment of the plan of the universe.
It is merely that feeling which is familiar to most
fishermen at the empty end of a hard day. End
of Chapter thirteen. Recording by Pam Burton in Hayes, Virginia,
(15:08):
February seventh, two thousand nine.
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On Purpose with Jay Shetty
I’m Jay Shetty host of On Purpose the worlds #1 Mental Health podcast and I’m so grateful you found us. I started this podcast 5 years ago to invite you into conversations and workshops that are designed to help make you happier, healthier and more healed. I believe that when you (yes you) feel seen, heard and understood you’re able to deal with relationship struggles, work challenges and life’s ups and downs with more ease and grace. I interview experts, celebrities, thought leaders and athletes so that we can grow our mindset, build better habits and uncover a side of them we’ve never seen before. New episodes every Monday and Friday. Your support means the world to me and I don’t take it for granted — click the follow button and leave a review to help us spread the love with On Purpose. I can’t wait for you to listen to your first or 500th episode!