Antarctica -- Discovery and exploration -- Fiction
James West was born on the sea, and had passed his childhood on
board a lighter belonging to his father, and on which the whole
family lived. All his life he had breathed the salt air of the
English Channel, the Atlantic, or the Pacific. He never went ashore
except for the needs of his service, whether of the State or of
trade. If he had to leave one ship for another he merely shifted his
canvas bag to the latter, from which he stirred no more. When he was
not sailing in reality he was sailing in imagination. After having
been ship's boy, novice, sailor, he became quartermaster, master,
and finally lieutenant of the _Halbrane_, and he had already served
for ten years as second in command under Captain Len Guy.
James West was not even ambitious of a higher rise; he did not want
to make a fortune; he did not concern himself with the buying or
selling of cargoes; but everything connected with that admirable
instrument a sailing ship, James West understood to perfection.
The personal appearance of the lieutenant was as follows: middle
height, slightly built, all nerves and muscles, strong limbs as
agile as those of a gymnast, the true sailor's "look," but of
very unusual far-sightedness and surprising penetration, sunburnt
face, hair thick and short, beardless cheeks and chin, regular
features, the whole expression denoting energy, courage, and
physical strength at their utmost tension.
James West spoke but rarely--only when he was questioned. He gave
his orders in a clear voice, not repeating them, but so as to be
heard at once, and he was understood. I call attention to this
typical officer of the Merchant Marine, who was devoted body and
soul to Captain Len Guy as to the schooner _Halbrane_. He seemed to be
one of the essential organs of his ship, and if the _Halbrane_ had a
heart it was in James West's breast that it beat.
There is but one more person to be mentioned; the ship's cook--a
negro from the African coast named Endicott, thirty years of age,
who had held that post for eight years. The boatswain and he were
great friends, and indulged in frequent talks.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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