Promptly the magazine advertised that it was sending me especially around the world for itself.It was a wealthy magazine.And every man who had business dealings with the Snark charged three prices because forsooth the magazine could afford it.Down in the uttermost South Sea isle this myth obtained, and I paid accordingly.
To this day everybody believes that the magazine paid for everything and that I made a fortune out of the voyage.It is hard, after such advertising, to hammer it into the human understanding that the whole voyage was done for the fun of it.
I went to Australia to go into hospital, where I spent five weeks.
I spent five months miserably sick in hotels.The mysterious malady that afflicted my hands was too much for the Australian specialists.
It was unknown in the literature of medicine.No case like it had ever been reported.It extended from my hands to my feet so that at times I was as helpless as a child.On occasion my hands were twice their natural size, with seven dead and dying skins peeling off at the same time.There were times when my toe-nails, in twenty-four hours, grew as thick as they were long.After filing them off, inside another twenty-four hours they were as thick as before.
The Australian specialists agreed that the malady was non-parasitic, and that, therefore, it must be nervous.It did not mend, and it was impossible for me to continue the voyage.The only way I could have continued it would have been by being lashed in my bunk, for in my helpless condition, unable to clutch with my hands, I could not have moved about on a small rolling boat.Also, I said to myself that while there were many boats and many voyages, I had but one pair of hands and one set of toe-nails.Still further, I reasoned that in my own climate of California I had always maintained a stable nervous equilibrium.So back I came.
Since my return I have completely recovered.And I have found out what was the matter with me.I encountered a book by Lieutenant-Colonel Charles E.Woodruff of the United States Army entitled "Effects of Tropical Light on White Men." Then I knew.Later, Imet Colonel Woodruff, and learned that he had been similarly afflicted.Himself an Army surgeon, seventeen Army surgeons sat on his case in the Philippines, and, like the Australian specialists, confessed themselves beaten.In brief, I had a strong predisposition toward the tissue-destructiveness of tropical light.
I was being torn to pieces by the ultra-violet rays just as many experimenters with the X-ray have been torn to pieces.
In passing, I may mention that among the other afflictions that jointly compelled the abandonment of the voyage, was one that is variously called the healthy man's disease, European Leprosy, and Biblical Leprosy.Unlike True Leprosy, nothing is known of this mysterious malady.No doctor has ever claimed a cure for a case of it, though spontaneous cures are recorded.It comes, they know not how.It is, they know not what.It goes, they know not why.
Without the use of drugs, merely by living in the wholesome California climate, my silvery skin vanished.The only hope the doctors had held out to me was a spontaneous cure, and such a cure was mine.
A last word: the test of the voyage.It is easy enough for me or any man to say that it was enjoyable.But there is a better witness, the one woman who made it from beginning to end.In hospital when I broke the news to Charmian that I must go back to California, the tears welled into her eyes.For two days she was wrecked and broken by the knowledge that the happy, happy voyage was abandoned.
GLEN ELLEN, CALIFORNIA,April 7, 1911
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