Peter Trawl

Peter Trawl, by W. H. G.
Kingston

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Title: Peter Trawl The Adventures of a Whaler
Author: W. H. G. Kingston
Illustrator: James Durden
Release Date: May 15, 2007 [EBook #21475]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PETER
TRAWL ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

Peter Trawl
the Adventures of a Whaler

by W.H.G. Kingston
CHAPTER ONE.
MY EARLY DAYS AT HOME.
Brother Jack, a seaman's bag over his shoulders, trudged sturdily ahead;
father followed, carrying the oars, spars, sails, and other gear of the
wherry, while as I toddled alongside him I held on with one hand to the
skirt of his pea-jacket, and griped the boat-hook which had been given
to my charge with the other.
From the front of the well-known inn, the "Keppel's Head," the portrait
of the brave old admiral, which I always looked at with awe and
admiration, thinking what a great man he must have been, gazed sternly
down on us as we made our way along the Common Hard of Portsea
towards the water's edge.
Father and Jack hauled in the wherry, and having deposited their
burdens in her, set to work to mop her out and to put her to rights,
while I stood, still grasping the boat-hook, which I held upright with
the point in the ground, watching their proceedings, till father, lifting
me up in his arms, placed me in the stern-sheets.
"Sit there, Peter, and mind you don't topple overboard, my son," he said,
in the kind tone in which he always spoke to me and Jack.
I was too small to be of much use, indeed father had hitherto only taken
me with him when he was merely going across to Gosport and back or
plying about the harbour.
It was a more eventful day to Jack than to me. When I saw mother
packing his bag, I had a sort of idea that he was going to sea, and when
the next morning she threw her arms round his neck and burst into tears,
and Jack began to cry too, I understood that he would be away for a
long time.
Jack had been of great use to father, who grieved as much as mother to

part with him, but, as he said, he wouldn't, if he could help it, bring him
up as a long-shore lubber, and a few voyages would be the making of
him.
"He can't get none of the right sort of eddication on shore," observed
father. "He'll learn on board a man-of-war what duty and discipline
mean, and to my mind till a lad knows that he isn't worth his salt."
The Lapwing brig-of-war, fitted out at Sheerness, had brought up at
Spithead, and her commander, Captain Rogers, with whom father had
long served, meeting him on shore, and hearing that he had a son old
enough to go to sea, offered to take Jack and look after him.
When Commander Rogers was a midshipman, he fell overboard, and
would have been drowned had not father jumped in and saved him. He
was very grateful, but had not till now had an opportunity of practically
showing his gratitude. Father, therefore, gladly accepted his offer,
being sure that he would do his best for Jack; and as Blue Peter was
flying from the masthead of the brig, there was no time to be lost in
taking him on board.
At the time I was too young, as I was saying, to understand these
matters, but I learnt about them afterwards. All I then knew was that
brother Jack was going for a sailor aboard of a man-of-war.
Father and Jack were just shoving off, when two persons who had come
out of the "Keppel's Head" were seen hurrying down the Hard with
cases and packages in their hands and under their arms. One, as his
dress and appearance showed, was a seafaring man; the other wore long
toggery, as sailors call the costume of landsmen.
"If you are going out to Spithead, my man, we'll go with you," shouted
the first.
"Ay, ay, sir! I'll be glad enough to take you," answered father, happy to
get a fare, instead of making nothing by the trip.
"We'll give you five shillings apiece," said the officer, for such he

seemed to be.
"Thank you, sir; that will do. What ship shall I put you aboard?" asked
father.
"The Intrepid, South