The Shellback's Progress Part 1

The Sh.e.l.lback's Progress.

by Walter Runciman.

DEDICATION

_TO WALTER TOWNEND, ESQ._

"MY DEAR TOWNEND,--Perhaps no two men have ever been bound together with ties of closer or more loyal friendship than you and myself. Many years have elapsed since our unbroken comradeship was formed in the old historic building in Cornhill. You have many claims to friendship and to confidence, and perhaps you can hardly realize what pleasure it gives me to remember that during our intercourse of so many years, your sincerity, directness and single-mindedness could always be depended upon. Your joyful relish of a tale of human interest, whether as a listener or a narrator, is always contagious. Your indignation and scorn for unmanly and dishonourable conduct, and your quick appreciation of whatever is generous and true; this, and my high regard for your own personal worth, have given me the wish to inscribe this volume of sea stories to you.

"Ever yours sincerely,

"WALTER RUNCIMAN."

_August, 1904_

PREFACE

These stories are drawn from the reality of things, and perhaps I may as well say that they have been written during short intervals s.n.a.t.c.hed from a busy and absorbing commercial life. I have tried to portray the men as they were--brave, dauntless, rugged, uncouth, illiterate, simple-minded, kind-hearted, and, at times, unmercifully savage. And yet there shone through all these conflictingly peculiar eccentricities a humorous kind of religion which belonged exclusively to themselves, but which gave their characteristics a touch of sublimity. We have travelled far since those days of aboriginal stupidity and sordid blood-sucking. The contrast between the comforts and conditions of life at sea then and now cannot be imagined. We may only talk of it; we can never truly estimate the change. I do not draw attention to the comparison because I think the sailor has got any more than he is ent.i.tled to. I refer to it in order that he may recognize a desire on the part of modern shipowners and the Legislature to give him every possible advantage consistent with the peculiarities of the trade in which he is engaged. One of the most recent advantages suggested in their report by the Mercantile Committee, who sat for, I think, about twelve months taking evidence from shipowners, shipmasters, sailors, and others, is that an amended food scale should be adopted, and that the seaman should have the right of appeal against a bad "discharge"

that may be given him. In my opinion the great body of shipowners will endorse that portion of their recommendations. It is to be desired that the seamen will recognize in this a willingness on the part of their employers to deal justly with them, for undoubtedly it was the evidence given by shipowners that influenced the Committee.

I

THE WILD NORTH SEA

There was a large fleet of sailing brigs, barques and schooners waiting for a favourable wind and spring tides, so that they might be put to sea without running the risk of thumping their keels off on the Bar.

The vessels had been loaded for several weeks. Many of them were bound to the Baltic. These were spoken of as the "Spring Fleet." The older and smaller craft were engaged in the coasting trade, and the larger were bound to ports in the southern hemisphere. Each of them carried three or four apprentices; but the southern-going portion did not deem the collier lads "cla.s.sy" enough to permit of them forming close comradeship. A condescending speaking-acquaintance was the limit of their connection. There was nothing to justify this sn.o.bbery, for in point of comparison the average collier lad in seamanship and physical capacity was the equal, and in intelligence by no means inferior to the young gentlemen who regarded the cla.s.s of vessel they served aboard of as a stamp of their own superiority. They were indeed a species of that terrible creature who apes n.o.bility because he lives in a mansion.

Occasionally the collier lads resented the lofty airs of the southern-going gentry, until open hostility ensued and much blood was spilt. But pugilistic encounters were conducted on strictly professional lines, and no ill-will was supposed to exist on the part of the combatants after they were over. That was the rule laid down, and a breach of it brought disgrace on the violator and his coadjutors, who were thereupon ostracised from the party to which they belonged.

The necessity for enforcing the penalty rarely occurred, not only because of its severity, but because it involved loss of honour.

A disagreement as to valour and prowess and seamanship had arisen between some sailor lads who belonged to the two different sections.

They decided that their differences could only be settled by being fought out on neutral ground. This was solemnly chosen, a ring formed, seconds appointed, and the contest began. In half-an-hour victory was decided in favour of the collier boy, though with all the fulness of sailor generosity his opponent received an ungrudging share of the ovation that was given to the champion. Both, however, showed evidences of rough usage: the only visible difference being that one had two eyes badly damaged while the victor had but one. After it was over they shook hands, swore allegiance to each other, walked back to their respective vessels, had raw beef applied to the eyes that were discoloured, tumbled into their hammocks and fell fast asleep.

Meanwhile a general meeting of apprentice lads from all the vessels in port was mustered, so that the result of the dispute should be publicly proclaimed; and in order that the occasion should be suitably celebrated, it was suggested and approved by loud acclamation that whereas there was every chance of the morrow being a sailing day, when the little port would be emptied of all its shipping, it might be that the parting would represent years, and perchance many of them would never meet on earth again. The latter clause was announced with marked solemnity. The orator proceeded to state that there had been enmities, jealousies, perhaps unworthy statements made about the inferiority of the collier boy, but the question had been settled by a brilliant exhibition of physical science; both sides were well represented, and both had shown that they were worthy champions of the n.o.ble art.

"Let me ask you then to call upon them both to join with us in becoming friends, and in having on the last night in port a ripping jollification. I propose," said the peacemaker, "that we have some chanties, and that we start these aboard the vessel I belong to by hoisting the topsail yards up."

The two heroes were roused, and cheerfully joined in what resolved itself into a carnival of reckless mischief. The brains of the whole company were excited, and they revelled in every form of scampishness.

The leaders gave orders as to the vessels that were to be visited and have their yards crossed and their rig in other ways disfigured. This being done, the spokesman informed them that they had spent a very jolly night, and after hoisting the _Silverspray's_ topsails to the mast head and furling the sails again, they were to disperse quietly and go each to his own ship. The sails were loosened, a chanty man was selected from among the southern-going seamen, and amid a chorus of sweet song the yards were leisurely mast-headed. The music of many voices had attracted a few people to the quay. A shout was raised that the captain of the vessel was coming. The halyards dropped from each one's hand, and a general scramble resembling a panic ensued. Down came the main topsail yard with a run, and broke in halves as soon as the sudden jerk came on the lifts. In almost as little time as it takes to write it, there was none of the revellers to be seen.

After the novelty has worn off, there is never any particular desire to put to sea on the part of youngsters; but on this occasion the anxiety to get out of the harbour was very marked. Many of the vessels got away before the damage done to the _Silverspray's_ yard and sail became generally known. The captain did not know that anything of the sort had happened until he came down to take the vessel to sea, and being a commonsense sort of man, instead of joining in the chorus of screaming, as his owner was doing, he adjured him to cease wasting time in declaiming against those who had done the mischief.

"We must set to work," said he, "and have the damage repaired; that is more important than theorising as to who did it."

By the time the repairs were set in full swing, nearly the whole of the culprits had pa.s.sed over the bar aboard their respective ships into the booming waves of the German Ocean. Many of them were destined never to reach their destination, and many never more to see the paradise that had given them so many ineffable days and nights. Sad hearts were grieving over the sudden parting from those who were loved because they were lovable. They seemed to be musing thoughts of poetry.

The _Silverspray's_ repairs were completed in two days, and she and another vessel, that had been detained owing to her pump gear not being ready, were towed out of the harbour in the face of a strong easterly wind and a lowering gla.s.s. The portly, ruddy appearance and p.r.o.nounced lurch or roll of Captain Thomas Arlington left no doubt as to his calling. He spoke with an a.s.sumed accent which resembled the amalgamation of several dialects. He was usually called Tom by his intimate friends, but mere acquaintances were not permitted to address him in any such familiar fashion. In his younger days he gained notoriety for having made several voyages to the West Indies, the Brazils and Constantinople, and he was therefore looked upon as a far-sailed and much-learned person. Owners vied with each other in sounding his praises and competing for his services. They looked upon him as a captain of the first rank, both in seamanship and education.

There was no question about the former: the latter consisted in his being able to read and write a legible hand, which was a rare accomplishment in those days. He had saved a little money, and was allowed as a special favour to invest to the extent of eight sixty-fourth shares in the vessel he commanded. He never lost an opportunity of making his less fortunate compatriots feel that he was immeasurably their superior. Many of them who commanded the same cla.s.s of vessel were so impressed with his influence over the owners that they looked upon his friendship as being of some value. Being part owner, his privileges were wide; in fact he was admitted within the owner circle, and contributed to the wisdom thereof in many eccentric ways.

The two little brigs were bound to the Baltic, and the first day out a heavy press of canvas was carried in order to get a good offing, lest the wind and sea should make and catch them tight on a lee sh.o.r.e. After they had been out twenty-four hours they both tacked off Flamborough Head, bearing west twenty miles, and stood to the N.E. The _Silverspray_ pa.s.sed close under the stern of the _Francis Blake_. The captains saluted each other as was the custom. The _Blake's_ captain shouted that his vessel was making a lot of water. The other responded: "We are making some too, and we shall have more wind and sea before there is less." This was about ten on a February morning. Their sailing qualities were pretty much on a par, so that they were kept in company all through the day. The wind had shifted from E.S.E. to S.E., and they headed E.N.E. with about two and a half points leeway, making the true course, after the toss of the sea had been allowed, about N.E. So long as daylight remained no canvas was taken in, though both of them were sometimes plunging their jibbooms under, and their bows almost level with the foremast. Every bit of rigging and running gear was strained to its maximum limit. There was no question of racing or foolhardiness, but a pressing necessity to flog them off a lee sh.o.r.e.

And this reminds me that only six years before, I innocently committed a serious breach of nautical faith for which I was roundly reprimanded by a kindly sailor. It was my first voyage at sea. I had not seen thirteen summers by many months. I heard two sailors who were standing by the lee side of the windla.s.s end conversing about the seriousness of the vessel's position. One said to the other that if the wind did not norther a little more she would be ash.o.r.e in Filey Bay before four o'clock in the morning. My views on seafaring had undergone a change. I was overcome with delight, and, forgetting the lesson many times given me never to speak until I was spoken to, with unrestrained impetuosity I interjected that I hoped she would be ash.o.r.e before four o'clock, so that I might get back to my home again. I can never forget the indignation of the two men. They frowned contemptuously on me, called me names that I had never heard before, and swore with a refinement that impressed me with the suspicion that I had said something that was not to be readily forgiven. With childlike simplicity I asked if it was wrong to wish that the vessel should go ash.o.r.e.

"Wrong? you young devil!" said they. "Would you have us all drowned?"

Needless to say, my desire happily did not come to pa.s.s, and I became the object for many a long day of good-humoured chaff which I would have done anything to obviate. The sailors did not seem to recognize any humorous side to their own part in it, and yet they used to roar with laughter at my amazing conclusions, and as my anger increased so did their amus.e.m.e.nt. A lee sh.o.r.e is always dreaded by seamen, and many a sound ship has been made leaky, and many a spar and sail has been carried away in the effort to keep off. It was precisely this fear that possessed the two captains in question and caused them almost to bury their ships in order to get well out to sea in case the wind should back into the east again.

When darkness came on they lost sight of each other. All night long the _Blake_ was plunged into a tremendous sea. The crew were nearly worn out with incessant pumping, and when the dawn whirled into the sky nothing could be seen of her companion. It was thought she must have shortened sail and fallen astern. The hoa.r.s.e moaning of the wind, and the waves running like conical hillocks, were a sure indication that there was greater turmoil behind them. The square foresail had been hauled up, and the crew were in the act of stowing it when the hurricane burst upon her, and she was held in the grasp of the wind.

The sea was flattened, and the wild drift flew before the screaming tempest. The captain called out to the men on the foreyard to "hold on for G.o.d's sake," as the vessel lurched over so far that the man on the lee yardarm said that he felt his foot touch the water. With almost superhuman effort the seamen, already worn out with pumping and with lacerated limbs, managed to secure the sail and make their way on deck to renew the fight to keep the vessel afloat. I do not believe the owner belonged to the scoundrel cla.s.s who sent their ships away with the hope that no more would be heard of them, but I cannot help thinking that he had close affinity to that no less terrible though pious section who wearied heaven with prayer for the safe-keeping of their ships and crews, while they themselves neglected fundamental precautions for their safety. It was the fashion to look upon drowning not only as an incident of the profession, but a natural finish to a sailor's career; and it is no exaggeration to say that many people thought the poor fellow preferred this form of extinction to any other.

The owner who squared his conscience by throwing the responsibility of the seaman's safety on to Almighty G.o.d did not unduly concern himself as to efficiency or seaworthiness; nor did he a.s.sume deep mourning if calamity came in consequence thereof. A few appropriate words of compliment addressed mainly to himself for his care in having the ship, when she sailed, in a state of unimpeachable order, and his constant intercession for divine protection were quite sufficient to exonerate him from in any way contributing either to loss of life or to loss of property. What cant, what insufferable _hypocrisy_! What hideous slaughter was committed in those good old times in G.o.d's name and in the name of British humanity! The late Dr Parker, preaching in the City Temple some time ago on the Armenian atrocities, exclaimed amid uproarious applause at the end of a fine peroration, "G.o.d d.a.m.n the Sultan!" And William Watson wrote a fine poem in which he charged England with indifference and spoke of the Sultan as "Abdul the d.a.m.ned." It is considered the prerogative of Englishmen to say strong things about the heads of other Governments if their subject races are, in their opinion, treated cruelly; but we are death on anyone who would interfere or accuse us of injustice or inhumanity. The only difference between the Government of Turkey and the Government of Great Britain was that the one ma.s.sacres by cutting throats, and the other used to ma.s.sacre by allowing rotten, ill-equipped, ill-designed vessels to sail under the spotless flag of England and carry to their doom shiploads of the finest seamen in the world. We "G.o.d d.a.m.n the Sultan"; yes; but I have known the time when poor sailors might with equal justice have "G.o.d d.a.m.ned" the Government of St Stephen's who would not listen to their woes. Poor fellows! Had Dr Parker and other public men dared to "G.o.d d.a.m.n" their own countrymen for carrying on a system of trading with veritable coffins, the reform which has made our mercantile marine the finest in the world would not have been so long delayed.

The little vessel of which I am writing hadn't a rope (as the sailors said) strong enough to hang a cat with, and it was in consequence of this most culpable neglect that the throat halyards of the fore trysail gaff broke soon after sailing. The gaff came down with a run, and it, together with the sail, was put into a long boat which stood on the chocks over the main hatches. Paradoxical as it may appear, this accident caused by rotten running gear was the means of saving the ship and all her crew. This was only a minor mishap compared with the breaking of one of the legs of the pump brake stand, which occurred just at the time both pumps were required to keep down the increasing flow of water. The storm continued to rage with unabated fury. No sky could be seen for the flying sleet, and the sea was torn and tossed into a wilderness of broken water. The only canvas set was the close-reefed main topsail. Both pumps had been going for several hours, and at one o'clock on the morning of February 12, the well was pumped dry and the mate's watch ordered below to get a nap until four. They took their drenched clothing off, wrung the water out, hung it on a line round the bogey fire to dry, and turned into their hammocks as naked as they were born. At three the hand-spike knocked heavily on the deck and a loud voice called down the scuttle hatch, "Larboard watch, ahoy! All hands to the pumps, the ship is sinking!"

Every man in a couple of minutes had put his steaming clothes on and set to work; and the fight with death went on until noon, when it was found that the water was gaining. The men despaired of keeping her afloat over night, and as there came in sight several vessels, it was decided to put the Ensign Union down in the main rigging. The captain ordered a young hand to clear away the long boat and make her ready for launching out by the lee gangway. This necessitated the foretrysail and all its gear being thrown on to the weather side of the deck. As soon as everything was ready the young seaman went to the pumps again. He had not been long there before he observed that some of the ropes that had been thrown on the deck did not wash from side to side as the others did. His gaze became transfixed until it excited the anger of the mate who asked what he was gaping at. This aroused him from a kind of stupor, and without saying a word to the officer, he let go the bellrope and went to the object which attracted him. He took hold of a rope and found it would not yield. He then felt the deck with his bare feet and found it was holed, but in order to ascertain the extent of the hole, he determined to feel with his hands, and as the water was continuously lashing over him on that part of the deck it was no easy task to accomplish this. In a few minutes he had ascertained that about two feet of deck, the shape of a wedge, had been staved close to the hatch combings; in fact it had never been fastened with nail or bolt.

He shouted at the top of his voice, "I have found the leak!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: FINDING THE LEAK.]

And the little band of men re-echoed with wild delight: "The big leak is found, hurrah! Down with the ensign." And the young seaman, who by accident had discovered this wicked piece of workmanship, became the object of many flattering compliments. Up to that time there had been observed a solemn, dogged, defiant struggle to defeat death who gazed into their eyes. An occasional unfriendly wish uttered by one or other of the sailors as to the punishment the owner should have was received with applause from all except the captain and mate. These little outbursts of vengeance were a sort of tonic to their depressed spirits.

A fervent "thank G.o.d" came from each man's lips as soon as the leak of the deck was stopped, the captain adding a supplementary remark that "G.o.d was good even to wicked sinners."

"In an hour from now," said he, "we might have been swallowed up in the waves. It was almost impossible that our boat could have lived until we got under the lee of the schooner" (which had been sighted and which hove to with the object of effecting a rescue). "Ah," said this penitent old man, "it is good to live as we would wish to die. G.o.d knows those who believe and trust in Him, and so He has saved us from a watery grave."

"Then keep off the whiskey and stick on deck," said one of the boldest of the crew, who was a naturalized Englishman. This remark brought the captain very near to backsliding. Fire was seen in his eyes, and he retorted with warmth: "If it wasn't the fear of G.o.d in my heart, you darned neck end, I would kick you. But," added he, "I will not be provoked into committing what may be considered a sin. We have much work to do before this pa.s.sage comes to an end, if ever it does."

"Then do your part," said Jack, "and take no more drink."

Here was sound advice, and it was rigidly adhered to, for the temptation was removed by the cook slipping the remainder of the whiskey over the side. Up to that time the men had much to complain of, as their master had been very little on deck until he was made to realize that his ship was in imminent peril. They knew pretty well what he was after, and were glad of the opportunity of making him see that his well-known skill was required on the quarterdeck. Kept from the drink he was one of the smartest men that ever took charge of a vessel.

He had been at the helm for nine hours before the leak was found, and as there was six feet of water in the hold, and a "private leak" which kept one pump going every hour, he stuck to it for another seven hours, when the crew called out "she sucks!" i.e., the well is dry. This was gladsome news. It is gladsome even under favourable circ.u.mstances, but here were men who had stood almost continuously up to the waist in water; and sometimes a knot of a sea would smash right over them. Their sleeves were doubled up and they had neither boots nor stockings on.

Their hands were cut and their arms and legs were red raw with friction and salt water boils. Let him who may estimate the sufferings of these poor creatures. I cannot, for my vocabulary fails me. Torture does not describe it; nor yet the sweat of anguish. It was very shocking, and were it not that I fear to offend the susceptibilities of some folk I would use a term that might come very near to describing its awful character. Those who are inclined to think the picture exaggerated know little of what went on in the much applauded "good old times."

It had been dark for four hours. The clatter of the pumps could only faintly be heard for the alternate whistling and roaring of the storm.

The combined music had a weird, saddening effect, as if doom were approaching. A wild and leprous moon sometimes shone through the troubled clouds of scudding sleet. The sea was white with angry commotion, and there were no evidences of the turmoil abating.

Immediately the pumps sucked the captain ordered his men to go below and get something to eat; meanwhile he would remain at the helm and keep a look out. In half an hour they were at the pumps again. It took a good while to get all the water out of her, as she was continuously making a good deal, and that which had gone through the staved deck had not quite drained through into the well. However, they felt that they had got the upper hand, and would keep it, provided none of the croppers levelled in upon her and smashed either the decks or the hatches in.

As soon as the captain went below, and it was thought he was asleep, the mate, who was a phlegmatic sort of person, went below also, and left a man and a boy to do the pumping. At first they thought he had gone to light his pipe, but as he was so long in making his appearance again, one of them went into the cabin and found him in his berth fast asleep. He was shaken for a long time before he showed signs of life, and at last grunted out:

"All right. Don't worry. I'll be up directly."

He was reminded that he ought never to have been down, and that it was no place for the mate of a leaky, or any other ship for that matter, on such a night. The sailor then left him, and allowed an interval of half an hour to pa.s.s, and as the worthy officer did not make his appearance, he went below again, and found him slumbering as peacefully as before.

He threatened to do no more pumping if the mate did not get up and lend a hand at once. Moreover, it was intimated to him that the skipper would have to be called if he lay there skulking while other people were being worked to death. This brought the mate out of his berth, but he got no further than the after-lockers, where he sat down with the object of lighting his pipe. Being comfortably seated, his head gradually sank on to the table, and, with the pipe in one hand and the matches in the other, he again became oblivious to the savage tumult that raged above him. Again the sailor went to see why he did not come up, and found him in the aforesaid position. This time he was not roused; a plot had been arranged, and forthwith a large bucket of water was taken below and thrown at him. He only shook himself, and murmured: