The Men of the Merchant Service: Being the polity of the mercantile marine for 'longshore readersBullen, Frank Thomas
History
The Men of the Merchant Service: Being the polity of the mercantile marine for 'longshore readers
Bullen, Frank Thomas
Merchant marine; Merchant mariners; Sailors
Then there is the indolent skipper, who leaves everything to the mate,
and never finds fault either. Amiable but lazy, he spends most of
his time in sleep. He scarcely looks at a book, does not meditate,
but leads a sort of fungus life, indulging in a perpetual _kief_, or
cessation of all the nobler faculties. Naturally, young officers like
that kind of skipper, since they have a perfectly free hand; but they
despise him, and in their inmost heart they know that such a ship is
very little good to them. And in times of emergency or danger, when
naturally every one on board looks to the head for leadership, it is
disconcerting, to say the least, to find him altogether wanting in
initiative either in energy or resource. Of course, this is not saying
that many masters will not be found who are fussy and meddlesome to
the most irritating degree when the weather is fine and the ship is
on the high seas, who, when danger looms near and the master's good
qualities should shine brightest, are but broken reeds. One master
whom I liked very much--a really good man, but without back-bone--was
looked upon by all hands with good-natured toleration as a sort of
benevolent old female, who, if he did keep himself in evidence pretty
much all the time, did not interfere to any great extent. But there
came a day when we were running the _Easting_ down (bound to Calcutta)
that we were overtaken by a really heavy gale. All our energies were
needed to get sail off the deeply laden ship, for she was wallowing
dangerously, and was not speedy enough to keep ahead of the sea. While
we were thus striving with all our powers, under the smart mate's
direction, the skipper, swathed in many clothes, clung desperately to
the weather-mizzen rigging, a pitiful picture of fear, his legs bending
under him all ways, and his grey beard beslavered with the foam of
fright. A more abject specimen of a coward I never saw. All hands noted
his behaviour, and from that day forward he was treated with utter
contempt. His authority was a thing of naught, and the discipline of
the ship (never very rigid in the Merchant Service) was entirely gone.
At last the men refused to obey a most necessary order, simply because
it necessitated work in their watch below. The offence was flagrant,
involving as it did the possible loss of the ship and all hands. He
summoned the recalcitrant watch aft and reasoned with them. They merely
gibed at and taunted him with cowardice and uselessness in reply. When
we arrived at Calcutta he had them up before the shipping-master for
punishment, and that worthy fined them two days' pay--at which they
laughed hugely.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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