If I’d only stuck with it, I might have had a successful career as a beachcomber by now.

Which is appealing because, you know, the bar for success as a beachcomber seems fairly low.

Or maybe not:

Not that it is good or becoming that many should attempt the part of the Beachcomber. All cannot play it who would. Few can be indifferent to that which men commonly prize. All are not free to test touchy problems with the acid of experience. Besides, there are not enough thoughtful islands to go round. Only for the few are there ideal or even convenient scenes for those who, while perceiving some of the charms of solitude, are at the same time compelled by circumstances ever and anon to administer to their favourite theories resounding smacks, making them jump to the practical necessities of the case.

~ EJ Banfield, The Confessions of a Beachcomber (1906)

Also, the 1909 New York Times page (PDF) including a review of Banfield’s book is a fascinating time capsule of racial representations.