Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Medical care -- Anecdotes; Ship physicians -- Great Britain -- Anecdotes
It was a cold raw morning, with a grey and cheerless sky, and a biting
south-wester blowing up channel, and ruffling the water in the Solent.
Alongside of the pier the boats and wherries were all in motion,
scratching and otherwise damaging their gunwales against the stones, as
they were lifted up and down at the pleasure of the wavelets. The
boatmen themselves were either drinking beer at adjacent bars, or
stamping up and down the quay with the hopes of enticing a little warmth
to their half-frozen toes, and rubbing the ends of their noses for a
like purpose. Suddenly there arose a great commotion among them, and
they all rushed off to surround a gentleman in brand-new naval uniform,
who was looking, with his mouth open, for a boat, in every place where a
boat was most unlikely to be. Knowing at a glance that he was a
stranger, they very generously, each and all of them, offered their
services, and wanted to row him somewhere--anywhere. After a great deal
of fighting and scrambling among themselves, during which the officer
got tugged here and tugged there a good many times, he was at last
bundled into a very dirty cobble, into which a rough-looking boatman
bounded after him and at once shoved off.
The naval officer was myself--the reader's obsequious slave. As for the
boatman, one thing must be said in his favour, he seemed to be a person
of religious character--in one thing at least, for, on the Day of
Judgment, I, for one, will not be able to turn round and say to him "I
was a stranger and ye took me not in," for he did take me in. In fact,
Portsmouth, as a town, is rather particular on this point of
Christianity: they do take strangers in.
"Where away to?" asked the jolly waterman, leaning a moment on his oars.
"H.M.S. `Victory,'" replied I.
"Be going for to join, I dessay, sir?"
"You are right," said I; "but have the goodness to pull so that I may
not be wet through on both sides."
"Can't help the weather, sir."
"I'll pay here," said I, "before we go alongside."
"Very good, sir."
"How much?"
"Only three shillings, sir."
"_Only_ three shillings!" I repeated, and added "eh?"
"That's all, sir--distance is short you know."
"Do you mean to say," said I, "that you really mean to charge--"
"Just three bob," interrupting me; "flag's up--can see for yourself,
sir."
"The flag, you see--I mean my good man--don't tell me about a flag, I'm
too far north for you;" and I tried to look as northish as possible.
"Flag, indeed! humph!"
"Why, sir," said the man of oars, with a pitying expression of
countenance and voice, "flag means double fare--anybody'll tell you
that, sir."
"Nonsense?" said I; "don't tell me that any one takes the trouble of
hoisting a flag in order to fill your confounded pockets; there is half
a crown, and not a penny more do you get from me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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