Miles Wallingford: Sequel to "Afloat and Ashore"Cooper, James Fenimore
General
Miles Wallingford: Sequel to "Afloat and Ashore"
Cooper, James Fenimore
Merchant mariners -- Fiction; Sea stories; Seafaring life -- Fiction
I confess I greatly disliked the aspect of things in-shore, with such a
pilot; but the aspect of things outside was still worse. Short-handed as
we were, it would be impossible to keep the ship in the channel, should
the gale come on as heavily as it threatened; and a single experiment
satisfied me, the four men in the boat would be of very little use in
working her: for I never saw persons who knew anything of the water, more
awkward than they turned out to be on our decks. Michael knew something,
it is true; but he was too old to turn his knowledge to much practical
account, for when I sent him to the wheel, Neb had to remain there to
assist him in steering. There was no choice, therefore, and I determined
to stand close in, when, should no suitable offer, it would always be in
our power to ware offshore. The fishing-boat was dropped astern,
accordingly, the men were all kept in the ship, and we stood in nearer to
the coast: the Dawn bending to the blasts, under the sail we carried, in a
way to render it difficult to stand erect on her decks.
The coast promised well as to formation, though there was much to
apprehend on the subject of the bottom. Among rocks an anchor is a
ticklish thing to confide in, and I feared it might be a difficult matter
to find a proper bottom, as far out as I deemed it prudent to remain. But
Michael, and Terence, and Pat, and Murphy, or whatever were the names of
our protesting confident friends, insisted that 'ould Ireland' would never
fail us. Marble and I stood on the forecastle, watching the formation of
the coast, and making our comments, as the ship drove through the short
seas, buried to her figure-head. At length, we thought a head-land that was
discernible a little under our lee-bow, looked promising, and Michael was
called from the wheel and questioned concerning it. The fellow affirmed he
knew the place well, and that the holding-ground on each side of it was
excellent, consenting at once to a proposition of mine to bring up under
its lee. We edged off, therefore, for this point, making the necessary
preparations for bringing up.
I was too busy in getting in canvas to note the progress of the ship for
the next twenty minutes. It took all four of us to stow the jib, leaving
Michael at the wheel the while. And a tremendous job it was, though (I say
it in humility) four better men never lay out on a spar, than those who
set about the task on this occasion. We got it in, however, but, I need
scarcely tell the seaman, it was not "stowed in the skin." Marble insisted
on leading the party, and never before had I seen the old fellow work as
he did on that day. He had a faculty of incorporating his body and limbs
with the wood and ropes, standing, as it might be, on air, working and
dragging with his arms and broad shoulders, in a way that appeared to give
him just as much command of his entire strength, as another man would
possess on the ground.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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