Jack in the Forecastle; or, Incidents in the Early Life of Hawser Martingale — John Shaqi
Jack in the Forecastle; or, Incidents in the Early Life of Hawser MartingaleSleeper, John Sherburne
General
Jack in the Forecastle; or, Incidents in the Early Life of Hawser Martingale
Sleeper, John Sherburne
Seafaring life
The brig was now ready for sea. The sailors were shipped, and I watched
them closely as they came on board, expecting to find the noble-looking,
generous spirited tars I had become so familiar with in books. It
happened, however, that three out of the five seamen who composed the
crew were "old English men-of-war's-men," and had long since lost
any refinement of character or rectitude of principle they originally
possessed. They were brought on board drunk by the landlord with whom
they boarded; for the "old tars" of those days fifty years ago had no
homes; when on shore all they cared for was a roof to shelter them, and
plenty of grog, in which they would indulge until their money was gone,
when they would go to sea and get more.
Now ensued the bustle incident to such occasions. Captain William Boyd,
who had volunteered to pilot the brig down the harbor, came on board;
the sails were hoisted; the deck was crowded with persons to take leave
of their friends, or gratify a morbid curiosity; and what with the
numerous questions asked, the running to and fro, the peremptory
commands of the mate, the unmusical singing and shouting of the crew
as they executed the various orders, together with the bawling of the
handcartmen and truckmen as they brought down the last of the trunks,
chests, stores, and provisions, my brain was in a whirl of excitement; I
hardly knew whether I stood on my head or my heels.
At last the captain came down the wharf, accompanied by Joshua Haven,
one of the owners, and some friends, who had made arrangements to
proceed in the brig so far as the mouth of the harbor. The single rope
which connected the Dolphin with the shore was cast loose; the pilot
gave some orders; that were Greek to me, in a loud and energetic tone;
the men on the wharf gave three cheers, which were heartily responded
to by the temporary passengers and crew; and with a pleasant breeze from
the westward, we sailed merrily down the river.
Some few persons lingered on the wharf, and continued for a time to
wave their handkerchiefs in token of an affectionate farewell to their
friends. I seemed to stand alone while these interesting scenes were
enacted. I took no part in the warm greetings or the tender adieus. I
had bidden farewell to my friends and relatives in another town some
days before; and no one took sufficient interest in my welfare to travel
a few miles, look after my comforts, and wish me a pleasant voyage as I
left my native land.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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