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
We, of course, were all in the joke, and watched Mr Brown with great
glee as he stole stealthily up to Mick's hammock and let fly a shower of
blows on the supposed intruder's body, accompanying the caning with some
pertinent remarks of a very forcible nature anent the offender's want of
manners and unneighbourliness towards a brother shipmate; whereupon we
all burst into a regular guffaw, and Mick sought refuge in flight on the
exposure of his little plot before Mr Brown could pay him out.
The corporal, though, took it in very good part, and did not bear my
chum any subsequent ill-will for thus taking him in; albeit, he was wary
enough to be on his guard against Mick hoaxing him a second time.
Jokes like these came as little interludes, so to speak, to `ease the
wheels' of our duties, which, however, were to me, at all events, more
of a pleasure than so many tasks; that is, after I had gone through the
initiatory instructions and drills, and was able to hold my own with the
smartest of my shipmates.
I cannot say, though, that I cared much for the schooling, seven months
of which every second-class boy on board the _Saint Vincent_ has to
undergo before he can gain the first rank.
Equally as certainly, however, I must allow that the teaching I gained,
watch and watch about, in that big schoolroom astern on the lower deck
turned out of considerable assistance to me, not only in my subsequent
experience afloat in the navy, especially when serving abroad, but
ashore too; for I there learnt the art of learning things, which is the
great secret of education to man or boy, though we youngsters do not
realise this when we have the chance of getting hold of it.
But it was the seamanship instruction that I went in for with the
greatest zest; and, from knotting and splicing up to compass, and helm,
and signalling, I don't think I fell far short of what Captain Mordaunt
said when he persuaded father to let me go to sea and join the training-
ship--that I was a born sailor and a regular `chip of the old block.'
In connection with this, I may state, that of all the practical lessons
I learnt in sailoring on board the _Saint Vincent_, the going aloft for
sail-drill used to please me best.
Every morning at eight o'clock we used to go up the rigging and practise
loosing and furling the sails, crossing the royal-yards, and making all
things snug before coming down on deck to our usual divisional
instruction.
On Mondays the whole forenoon was devoted to these evolutions, the sails
being set one after the other, topsails, topgallants, royals, and even
stu'nsails sometimes, besides the courses and headsails below; until,
often, the whole ship was piled with canvas as if she were fetching down
Channel on a cruise, her spars quivering with the strain frequently,
when we had the wind abeam from the southward and east'ard, and every
rope as taut as a bar of iron!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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