Whist, reviewed

I have been asked whether I really played whist the whole way round the world, and the answer is yes, whenever there were four of us and a table. I make no apology for it. A man who travels needs something to do with his hands and his mind while the sea goes past, and I know of nothing better.

Whist recommends itself to the traveller on several grounds. It is quiet. It is played in silence, or ought to be, which spares one a great deal of conversation about the scenery. It requires attention, which keeps the mind from fretting over what cannot be changed, such as the speed of a steamer. It can be played anywhere there is a flat surface, and I have played it on several that were not flat. It rewards memory and punishes carelessness, which is fair. And it takes about as long as one has, whether that is twenty minutes before a train or nineteen days across the Pacific.

It also tells one a great deal about one's companions. A man who leads recklessly from a weak suit will do the same in business. A man who sulks over a bad hand will sulk over a late train. I have learnt more about people across the whist table than I have learnt from talking to them, and I have very rarely been wrong.

01 The tables, ranked

What follows is my assessment of every table I played at between London and London. Stars are awarded out of five. I have taken account of the company, the play, the conditions, and whether the table kept still.

Some notes on the rankings. The Reform Club has the advantage of long practice and the disadvantage of high stakes; I am still uncertain whether the game on 2 October was the best or the most expensive I have ever played. Sir Francis Cromarty was the finest partner I met on the journey. I record his leaving the train at Benares as the greatest blow to my game between Bombay and the Pacific.

Mrs Aouda had never played before Hong Kong. By Yokohama she was winning. By San Francisco she was winning against me. She plays with a kind of fearless clarity which I admire very much and have not yet learnt to counter, and I do not expect to learn now. I count this among the most satisfying results of the whole journey.

Mr Fix played better than I expected of a detective, and with a certain caution which I have since been able to explain. He had been watching me across the table the whole time, I think, for signs of guilt, and finding nothing but a good knowledge of trumps. He has told me since that it was at the whist table on the General Grant that he first began to suspect he had the wrong man. I am glad the game was of use to him.

02 A recommendation

A word on conditions. A steamer table should have a raised edge, or the tricks go to the floor in any sea at all. A railway carriage is better than it sounds, provided the line is good; the Union Pacific is not good west of Ogden. A cabin table lit by a single lamp is the worst of all, because one cannot tell the clubs from the spades after midnight, and a partner who is tired will begin to guess. I do not guess. I have been told this is my chief fault as a partner and my chief virtue as a traveller.

I cannot recommend whist to everyone. It requires patience and memory, and some people would rather talk. But for a traveller who has a long way to go and wishes to arrive in good order, there is nothing better. It got me round the world. It even got me a wife, in a manner of speaking, though I doubt she would put it that way.