Young Tom Bowling: The Boys of the British NavyHutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
General
Young Tom Bowling: The Boys of the British Navy
Hutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
"Think, sir?" rejoined Draper, who had served on the East African
station before joining the _Mermaid_, and `knew the ropes,' as the
saying goes. "I don't think about it at all, sir."
"Well, well," said Mr Chisholm, who was a jocular sort of young fellow
and never hard on a man, besides which he knew Draper's crusty way,
"tell us what you know, then."
"Very good, sir," replied our old shellback of a coxswain. "Then, I
knows, sir, the monsoon's on the shift, and we're agoin' to have a blow
from the nor'ard afore dark."
"What do you advise our doing, coxen?"
"Adwise, sir?" repeated Draper, as usual, after Mr Chisholm, his habit
always when asked a question. "If I was you, sir, I'd up stick and run
for it, sir, to the nearest port."
"The nearest port on our lee is Zanzibar," said Mr Chisholm. "I
suppose you mean to loo'ard, Draper?"
"Aye, aye, sir, I means to loo'ard."
"Then you advise our putting up the helm and running for Zanzibar?"
"Aye."
The cutter was rigged with a dipping lug and a spritsail; so, no sooner
had crusty old Draper given his laconic answer to Mr Chisholm, than the
latter sang out to Larrikins, who was in the bows.
"Look out there forrud!" he cried. "Stand by to dip!"
This is considered one of the smartest things in boat-sailing, the men
having to be specially stationed for the purpose; but, as we had been
living in the cutter now for three months, and had experience of her
under any and every change of wind and sail, the operation did not
occasion much difficulty to us.
Larrikins, who was bowman, pressed out the fore part of the lug as soon
as the yard was half lowered, while two other hands gathered the sheet
of the sail forwards, and passed it round the mast as soon as Draper had
put the helm up; when I and another chap who was aft with me, unhooked
the sheet to port and then rehooked it to the starboard side, which was
to windward now on the cutter's head coming round, as she went off on
the other tack.
Gathering way in a minute or two as we eased off the sheet of the lug,
the cutter went ahead at a great pace, making much better weather of it
running before the wind, as was the case now, than she had lately,
before we came about, when beating up to Bagamoyo; skimming over the
broken surface of the sea, her bows and the deadwood of her keel
forwards being clean out of the water sometimes as she jumped from wave
to wave, and sending the spray she threw up as she came down bash on the
top of some billow, right inboard, wetting us to the skin, and leaving a
wake behind her like a millrace.
We were steering almost due north now; and, looking ahead under the
leech of the lugsail, I could see that the clouds we had observed before
banked up on the horizon had crept up towards the zenith, spreading out
laterally on either side, until half of the heavens was obscured.
Then, all of a sudden, the wind dropped, as if done with a turn of the
hand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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