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  .., 2026.



Jack London  

Sea Wolf  

Chapter I  I

I really don't know where to start, although sometimes, jokingly, I blame it all on Charlie Faraset. He, ,   ,  ,  ,       . He had a summer cottage in Mishle Valley, under the shadow of Mount Tamalpe, but he only spent time there during the winter months, when he read Nietzsche and Schopenhauer to give his brain a break.      -,    ,          ,     ,     . When summer came, he preferred to suffer from the heat and dust of the city and work tirelessly.   ,           ,   . If I had not been in the habit of visiting him every Saturday and staying with him until Monday morning, I would not have found myself on the waters of San Francisco Bay on this particular Monday morning in January.                ,              -.

The Martinez was not exactly a reliable vessel; she was a new little steamer, making her fourth or fifth trip between Sausalito and San Francisco.  ,     ;     ,          -. The danger was from the heavy fog that covered the whole bay, although I, as a landsman, was almost unaware of it.         ,  ,   ,     . I remember very well how calmly and joyfully I sat on the upper foredeck, just under the wheelhouse, and admired the mysterious clouds of this fog that had taken possession of my imagination.   ,          ,          ,   . A fresh breeze was blowing, and for some time I was alone in the damp and darkness  though not entirely alone, for I was vaguely aware of the presence of the helmsman and someone else, presumably the captain, in the glass booth above my head.   ,            ,    ,          -, - ,      .

I remember thinking how lucky it was that, thanks to the division of labor, I didn't have to study fogs, winds, tides, and all the rest of marine science if I wanted to visit a friend who lived on the other side of the arm of the sea. ,    ,  , ,   ,     , ,     ,    ,      . It's good that there are specialists, I thought. ,   ,   . The professional knowledge of a helmsman and captain serves thousands of people who know no more about the sea and navigation than I do.        ,        . Instead of devoting my energy to studying a lot of things, I focus it on a few specific questions, such as examining Poe's place in American literature.  ,        ,       , , ,   ,      . By the way, my article about this is published in the latest issue of the Atlantic. ,         . As I passed through the cabin after boarding the steamer, I was pleased to notice a burly gentleman reading a copy of the Atlantic that was open to my article.       ,     -  ,   ,      . Here again was the division of labor: the special knowledge of the helmsman and the captain enabled the burly gentleman to read the fruits of my special knowledge of Po and at the same time to cross safely from Sausalito to San Francisco.      :                           -.

A red-faced man, slamming the cabin door behind me and climbing out onto the deck, interrupted my thoughts, and I only had time to mentally note the topic for my future article, which I wanted to call " The Necessity of freedom. -  ,          ,   ,           ,      . A word in defense of the artist."    . The red  faced man looked up at the wheelhouse, looked out at the surrounding fog, limped up and down the deck  apparently he had artificial legs-and stopped beside me, legs spread wide and an expression of utter bliss on his face.      ,    ,        ,           ,          . I was right when I thought that he had spent his life at sea.   ,  ,       .

"This weather can turn your hair gray," he said, nodding toward the wheelhouse.

"I don't think there's much difficulty," I said.       ,   ,     .  The captain's business is as simple as two and two make four.     ,     . The compass gives it a direction; distance and speed are also known.    ;     . This is a simple mathematical certainty.    .

"Difficulties!  ! - grumbled my interlocutor.     . - Just like two and two make four!   ,     ! Mathematical certainty!  !

Looking at me, it was as if he was looking for a foothold.   ,        .

 What do you think of the tide rushing through the Golden Gate?"       ,    ? he asked, or rather barked.   ,  ,  . - Is the water falling fast?      ? What currents arise?   ? Listen, what is it? -,  ? We're going right up on the bell buoy!      ! See, they're changing course. ,   .

A bell rang mournfully out of the fog, and I saw the helmsman turn the wheel quickly.40 The bell, which seemed to be in front, now sounded from the side.      ,   ,     . The hoarse whistle of our steamer could be heard, and from time to time other horns could be heard coming out of the fog.      ,         .

"They're passenger steamers, too," the red-faced man remarked, pointing to the right, toward the last whistle.     ,    ,  ,    . - And this!    ! Do you hear me? ? Just a mouthpiece.   . Probably some flat-bottomed schooner. , -  . Hey, don't yawn on the schooner! ,   ,  !

The invisible steamer hummed endlessly, and the megaphone echoed it, seemingly in terrible confusion.     ,    , ,   .

 Now they've exchanged pleasantries and are trying to get away safely, " the red-faced man continued when the alarm bells stopped ringing.          ,    ,    .

His face shone and his eyes glowed with admiration as he translated the sounds of horns and sirens into articulate language. 51

 Now there's a steam siren going by on the left, and you can hear a steam schooner yelling over there, like a frog croaking.   ,    ,          . It seems to be very close and is creeping towards the ebb tide. , ,      .

The sharp sound of a whistle that was raging like a madman came from somewhere very close up ahead.   ,  ,  ,  -   . On the Martinets, he was answered with a gong.      . The wheels of our steamer stopped, their throbbing beats stopped, but then resumed.    ,    ,   . A sharp whistle, like the chirping of a grasshopper among the voices of large animals, penetrated the fog, veering more and more to one side and quickly weakening.  ,       ,  ,        . I looked questioningly at my companion.      .

"Some desperate longboat," he explained.  -  ,   . " I think we should have sunk it!"   ,    ! They cause a lot of trouble, but who needs them?     ,    ? Some donkey will climb on such a vessel and run around without knowing why, blowing his whistle and making everyone in the world take care of themselves! -      ,    ,          ! Please tell me, important bird!  ,  ! And you have to keep your eyes open because of him!    -    ! Right of way!   ! Necessary decency!  ! They are not aware of all this!        !

This indefensible anger amused me greatly, and while my companion hobbled back and forth in indignation, I once again gave myself up to the romantic charm of the mist.        ,    ,        ,      . Yes, there was certainly romance in that fog. ,   , ,  . Like the gray shadow of an immeasurable mystery, it hung over a swirling piece of the globe.     ,       . And men, those glittering atoms driven by an insatiable thirst for activity, rode their wooden and steel steeds through the heart of mystery, groping their way into the unseen, and conversed with assumed calmness while their souls trembled with uncertainty and fear.  ,   ,    ,           ,      ,     ,           .

My companion's voice brought me back to reality and made me chuckle.          . For I myself was groping my way, when I thought I was rushing confidently through the mystery.     ,   ,     .

"Hey!  ! Someone is coming to meet us, "he said. -   ,   ." Do you hear, do you hear?   , ? It's coming fast.   . Coming straight at us.    . I don't think he's heard us yet. ,     . The wind is blowing.  .

A fresh breeze was blowing directly in our direction, and I could clearly hear the whistle blowing from the side and slightly ahead of us. 81

 Also a passenger car?       ,          . I asked.    . The red-faced man nodded and added:     :

"Yes, or he wouldn't be running so fast."  ,      ,  . Um, our people there are worried! ,   !

I looked up.87 The captain stuck his head and shoulders out of the wheelhouse and peered intently into the fog, as if trying to force his will to penetrate it.   . His face showed alarm, as did the face of my companion, who limped to the railing and stared intently in the direction of the unseen danger.    ,      ,           .

It all happened with unfathomable speed.     . The fog parted as if cut by a blade, and the prow of the steamer came out, dragging wisps of fog behind it like seaweed on the face of a Leviathan.    ,   ,    ,     ,     . I saw the wheelhouse and a white-bearded old man leaning out of it.          . He was dressed in a blue uniform, and I remember how unshakably calm he was.      ,   ,      . His calmness under these circumstances was terrible.       . He submitted to fate, walked hand in hand with her, and coldly measured the blow.   ,          . He looked at us as if calculating the point where the collision would occur, and paid no attention to the furious shout of our helmsman: "You've done your job!    ,    ,    ,          :    ! 

Looking back, I can see that the helmsman's phrase, by its very nature, did not require an answer.   ,  ,   ,   ,    .

"Hold on to something," the red-faced man said to me.

His buoyancy was gone, and he seemed to have been infected with the same uncanny calm.    -,     .

"Listen to the women squeal," he said angrily, almost angrily, as if he'd seen it happen before.  ,    ,  ,    ,        .

The ships collided before I could take his advice.   ,      . Apparently an oncoming steamer hit us amidships, although I didn't see it. -,       ,     . It was out of my sight.      . The Martinez rocked violently, and the sound of breaking wood was heard.   ,     . I fell flat on the wet deck, and before I could get to my feet, I heard the women scream.             ,    . It was an indescribable, heart-rending scream that filled me with horror.   ,  ,   . I remembered that my life belts were in the cabin, but at the door I ran into a crowd of frantic passengers.  ,      ,        . I don't remember what happened in the next few minutes, but I can still see life belts being removed from the high shelves above my head, and a red-faced man tying them around several hysterical women.  ,     ,      ,                    . I can still see the jagged edges of the hole in the cabin wall, and the gray mist that crept in; the empty, padded seats, with the evidence of the sudden flight scattered on them  bags, valises, umbrellas, and blankets; the burly gentleman who had read my article, and now wrapped in cork and canvas-the magazine was still there. in his hand, and with monotonous urgency, he asked me if I thought there was any danger; the red-faced man who hobbled briskly on artificial legs, who provided belts for all newcomers, and finally the screeching bedlam of women. 110

Yes, the screeching of women got on my nerves the most.                 ; ,  ,       ,  , ,   ;  ,   ,       ,         ,       ,  ,   , ;  ,     ,     , , ,   . It must have affected the nerves of the red-faced man, too, for I remember another picture that will never be erased from my memory: a stout gentleman stuffing a magazine into his coat pocket and looking around curiously; a confused crowd of women, with long, pale faces, sobbing like a chorus of lost souls, and a group of young men who have lost their lives. a red-faced man, his face now completely purple with anger, and with his hands raised above his head, from which it seemed that lightning was about to fall, shouts in a thunderous voice: -,       ,      ,      :            ;   ,  ,  , ,    ,   ,  ,            ,  , ,   ,   :

- Be silent!  ! Be silent, I tell you! ,  !

This scene made me suddenly laugh, but after a moment I realized that I was hysterical myself; these were women of my own class, women like my mother and sisters, who were gripped by the fear of death and did not want to die.       ,   ,     ;       , ,      ,         . I remember that their voices reminded me of the screeching of pigs under a butcher's knife, and the truth of this comparison struck me with horror.  ,          ,       . These women, capable of the highest feelings, of the most tender sympathy, screamed with their mouths agape.  ,     ,    , ,  . They wanted to live, they were as helpless as rats in a rat trap, and they screamed with all their might.   ,   ,    ,     .

The horror of it drove me on deck.       . I felt weak and disgusted and sank down on the bench.         . Vaguely I saw people rushing about and heard their screams as they tried to lower the boats.         ,    . Blocks were getting stuck.  . Everything was out of order.    . One boat was lowered by forgetting to insert a stopper; when the women and children got into it, it filled with water and capsized.   ,   ;       ,     . The other lifeboat was lowered only at one end, and the other end was still hanging from the hoists.125 There was no sign of the steamer that had caused all this misfortune, but it was said that she would certainly send out boats to help us.

I went down to the lower deck.       ,         . Evidently the Martinets was sinking rapidly, for the water was already very close. ,   ,       . Many passengers threw themselves overboard.     . Others begged from the water to be taken back up.    ,     . No one listened to them.    . A general cry of " sinking!    !. . I was caught up in the ensuing panic and threw myself into the water among the many other bodies that were falling into the sea.                . I didn't know how I did it, but I knew instantly why those in the water were so eager to get back on the boat.     ,    ,     ,         . The water was cold  cold to the point of pain.       . When I dived, I felt like I was on fire.   ,  ,  . The cold bit into my bones, as if the hand of death had already gripped me.     ,      . I was choking with surprise and fear, and I managed to fill my lungs with water before the life belt lifted me back to the surface.             ,        . The taste of salt filled my mouth with bitterness, and I choked on the sensation of something acrid entering my throat and lungs.      ,      - ,      .

But the cold was especially terrible.     . I felt like I wouldn't survive more than a few minutes.  ,      . All around me, people were floundering in the water.      . I could hear them shouting at each other.  ,   -   . I could also hear the sound of oars being rowed.     . Apparently, an oncoming steamer was lowering boats. ,    . Time passed, and I wondered that I was still alive.  ,   ,     . But the lower half of my body lost all sensation, and a cold numbness came to my very heart.       ,       . Small waves, with angry foaming ridges, rolled over me, got into my mouth and made me choke.  ,    ,   ,      .




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