A uniformed pilot was put a board, and a towing hawser thrown to the men in the bow. Saluting and speaking perfect English, through with a particular accent, the pilot asked what vessel it was. On being informed that it was the “Wanderer“ of New York, United States of America, he dropped his jaw, stretched his eyes and looked altogether as upset as if he had been told that it was the Flying Dutchman.
“What Land is This?” Asked Capt. Brent in turn.
“The Iron Republic”, sir, replied the pilot, again saluting, & advancing to the wheel. In response to our further questioning he courteously stated that he was an officer on duty, that it was against the rules for him to hold any conversation except in reference to the ship and begged us to curb our curiosity until we got a sure, when all the information we desired would be afforded to us.
There was nothing else for us to do, so Captain Brent turned his attention to lowering and furling the sails which had been hoisted, and by the time everything was made snug, we were alongside the pier.
As soon as we were made fast another officer came on board and he, like the pilot, seem to be dumbfounded when he learned that the vessel hailed from the United States of America. After inspecting the ship’s papers, he turned to Captain Brent and informed him that the circumstances of our arrival were so unusual and unprecedented in his experience, that he would be under the necessity of conducting him to the office of the Director of Navigation.. . . “Sir”, I said, as we passed through the curious Throng that had gathered on the wharf, “will you be kind enough to tell me what country this is and in what part of the world it lies?
-“This”, he replied, is The Iron Republic and the continent on which you stand lies about as far from the frozen ocean as your own continent of America does in the opposite direction.
