The Mate of the Good Ship York; Or, The Ship's AdventureRussell, William Clark
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The Mate of the Good Ship York; Or, The Ship's Adventure
Russell, William Clark
English fiction -- 20th century; Sea stories
"I have swept up and down it often in my life," replied Hardy, "and
five times out of ten we were becalmed on it, and thankful for
catspaws. The thunder of the Bay continues to roar loud in the song,
and alarms the man in the street who talks of taking shipping south.
Let him be hove to off the Horn in fifty-eight degrees south. Suppose
you see if the kettle boils."
They made an excellent breakfast and so did the dog. Hardy ate and
held the wheel, the ship, as though in love with her people, almost
steered herself. There would come a change; the God-given mood of the
sea is sweet, it is the weather that breaks her heart. As a drunken
husband seizes his pale and pretty wife by the hair, and flogs her
into shrieks and madness, so does the weather serve the ocean. It is
good for the fish who breathe thereby, but bad for the passenger at
whose white, overhanging face the invisible eye of the fish is uplifted
languishingly.
"Now, Julia," said Hardy, "hold the wheel whilst I teach the dog a
lesson in practical seamanship."
He stepped to the mizzen-royal halliards and called to the dog, which
followed. He cast the rope off the pin, but kept one turn under the
pin, and said to the dog:
"Seize it and pull!" holding out the slack.
The dog with much wagging of tail, as though he reckoned that Hardy
meant some caper-cutting, seized the rope with his teeth. It was now
a job. He wanted the dog to pull at the rope, so that when he swigged
off at the halliards the dog by dragging would keep the slack taut as
though strained by human hands. The intelligence of the Newfoundland
is proverbial and marvellous, but it took Hardy all an hour to make
the noble creature see what it was expected to do. He then did it, and
Julia, whose laugh had been constant throughout the procedure, let go
the wheel to clap her hands, whilst Hardy with purple face swigged off
upon the halliards, and the dog, with forward slanting legs, strained
the slack. All three then rested: Hardy steered sitting, for, as I have
told you, a little movement of the spokes sufficed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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