A Voyage round the World: A book for boysKingston, William Henry Giles
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A Voyage round the World: A book for boys
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Voyages around the world -- Juvenile fiction
The reason, I believe, why sailors in a well-regulated ship are
generally so happy, is, that they are never allowed to have an idle
moment. Mr Renshaw was always finding something for the people to do;
and when that work was finished, there was something else of equal
importance to be done. The picture our deck presented on one day will
serve for that seen on most days in fine weather: on one side the
spun-yarn winches were going, manufacturing spun-yarn out of old junk--a
never-ending source of employment; Mr Pincott and his mates were busily
at work building a boat on the other; the sail-maker and his gang were
repairing some of the sails, and making light ones for the gentle
breezes of the Pacific; while Fleming and his crew were laying up rope,
and the rest of the watch were knotting yarns, making sinnet, wad-bags,
wads, chafing gear of all descriptions, such as worming, parcelling,
roundings, spun-yarn, rope-yarn, marline, seizing, stuffs, and service
of all kinds; the names of which things alone are, I suspect, sufficient
to puzzle a landsman, so I will say no more about them. Aft were
Captain Frankland, with one of the mates and Gerard and I, taking
observations of the sun,--an employment in which, as I began to
understand it, I felt great interest. It struck me that, as far as I
saw, Captain Frankland took very little concern about the ship. He
seldom spoke a word to any of the crew, and only occasionally on points
of duty while on deck, to the mates. I soon found, however, that no man
could more effectually exert himself, when his exertions were required.
Hitherto there had been nothing to call forth his energies. With light
winds and calm seas, he had better employment in his cabin. That very
day a change came over the even tenor of our lives; scarcely were our
sextants stowed away, when, as the captain was walking the deck, I saw
him frequently turn his glance to the westward. There, over the land,
in a moment it seemed, arose a bank of clouds, which every instant grew
denser and denser, and came rushing toward us across the sky.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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