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
He felt a certain sense of independency owing to the captain's state,
and considered that he was entitled to act beyond his rights as a mate.
By which I mean that it could not much concern him if the captain came
out and found him talking to the girl, and generally acting as though
he were a passenger instead of an officer of the ship.
"Come on deck," said he, "the air will refresh you."
And they went up the companion-steps, whilst the Newfoundland continued
to sentinel the captain's door.
A glorious evening sky, in the west like a city on fire, clouds with
brows glowing into scarlet as they sailed into the splendour abeam,
the ship leaning with the breeze, and the white spume twinkling on the
eastern blue in a trembling heaven-full of the lights of foam. Two sail
were in sight, fairy gleams upon the lens-like edge on the port bow.
"Oh," cried the girl, with a swift look along the deck, "after an open
boat! and one man groaning and then lying dead in her!"
They walked slowly to and fro to leeward, leaving Mr. Candy, who ogled
them betwixt his white eyelashes, to pace the weather quarter-deck
in the loneliness of command. The sailors had immediately seen how
things stood. Nothing that happens at sea astonishes a sailor, unless
it is the expected, which is often a real surprise, so full of
disappointments, of leeway, head winds, misreckoning is the life. Here
was the chief mate who had fallen in with a girl whom he knew.
"They might have kept company ashore," says Bill to Jim. "She was bound
one way and he another. Ain't that sailor fashion?"
"Ain't she got a figure?" says Jim to Bill. "Wouldn't I like to put my
arm round her waist if Dick and the little 'un was playing. It's damned
hard on us sailor men that no female society's allowed aboard a ship."
"There's the figurehead if it's female," says Bill. "I've known a
man so 'ard up that of a dog-watch, when there was plenty o' light,
he'd slide down the dolphin-striker just to talk to the woman on the
stem-head. He'd say it was the next best thing."
Perhaps it was, for some figureheads in those days were a little
gorgeous. I have seen ladies under the bowsprit with long black hair
and swelling bosoms, bright with golden stars. Their blush was deep,
their lips scarlet, their smile alluring, they were always curtseying,
and the sea in its loving humours flung snow-white nosegays at them.
But the shadow of the boy's death was still upon the ship, and so far
the captain had treated his men _as_ men, and they were sorry for
him. You may take it that a man is no sailor who ill-treats a sailor,
and despite tradition and the presence of the sea-lawyer, your ship's
company, if they are British, will serve you honestly if their food is
fit even for sailors, and if they are numerous enough to do the work
of one man and half a man added per head, as against the one-man work
which the shore exacts without expecting more.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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