Short stories, American; United States -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"I understood as old Wiggins was made a good deal on in Liverpool as
bein' the oldest skipper that had ever come there, and the Board of
Trade and what not giv' him dinners, and so on--which, considerin' his
age, he oughtn't to have took--and by other skippers at the hotel he
were much honored, bein' giv' the head of the table and treated with
great deference--and all this dinin' and winin' and feastin' weren't
no good to him--and, arter a stay of three weeks, when we ag'in went
down the river with full complement of passengers and a good freight,
he weren't not by no means as well as when we went in. We had, too, a
tough time down channel, a stiff sou'wester, with rain and thick
weather, and it told onto the old man, so that when arter bein' out a
week we at last got clear of Tuskar and had the ocean open, the relief
from the strain fetched him, and he were took down sick.
"Whether it were to punish him for comin' to sea at his time of life
or not I don't know; but from this on we did have the devil's own
weather. Gale after gale from the west'ard, shiftin' constant from
sou'west to nor'west, and tryin' constant to see from which quarter it
could blow the hardest.
"The mate were a plucky and a able young feller, by the name of
Graham, and he kep' her a-dancin' as well as the old man would have
done. Constant she had everythin' put to her that she'd bear, and
always were she kep' on the tack where she'd make the most westin',
and so she struggled along till we was as far as thirty degrees west,
we bein' thirty days out and not yet half way. Every day we asked the
steward how old Wiggins were a-gittin' on, and every day he'd shake
his head and say 'no better;' and it come to be understood, fore and
aft, that it were as much as a toss-up if the old man ever smelled
grass ag'in. We had a little let-up arter gittin' into the thirties,
and for a day or so had fine weather and a chance to dry our dunnage.
Fine days, however, is scarce in January on that herrin' pond--I'll
take just another; mentionin' herrin's makes me dry--and when you gits
'em they are most always weather-breeders. I went up on to the main
royal yard when our side come up at 8 o'clock one mornin' for to sew
on the leather on the parral, and it were like a day in May. Afore I
got the leather sewed on I be to look out for myself, 'cause they was
goin' to clew up the sail, and from that time on it breezed on from
the sou'ard, keepin' us constantly takin' the sail off of her, till at
four bells we was under double-reefed topsails and reefed courses,
with jib, crochick, and spanker stowed. We hammered away under this,
carryin' on very heavy, 'cause she were headin' west-nor'west, which
were a good course, till eight bells in the arternoon watch, when the
sea gittin' up so tremendiously we had to furl the reefed mainsail
and mizzen topsail and close reef the fore and main topsails.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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