The Floating Light of the Goodwin Sands | Page 6

such indicator to tell of their existence or locality, for the chorus of a "nigger" melody burst from them, ever and anon, through every opening in the decks, with jovial violence, as they sat, busily engaged on various pieces of work below. The more remote parts of this landscape--or light-scape, if we may be allowed the expression--were filled up with the galley-skylight, the bitts, and the windlass, above which towered the gong, and around which twined the two enormous chain cables. Only one of these, however, was in use--that, with a single mushroom-anchor, being sufficient to hold the ship securely against tide and tempest.
In reference to this we may remark in passing that the cable of a floating light is frequently renewed, and that the chafing of the links at the hawse-hole is distributed by the occasional paying out or hauling in of a few yards of chain--a process which is styled "easing the nip."
"Horroo! me hearty, ye're as clain as a lady's watch," exclaimed a man of rugged form but pleasant countenance, as he issued from the small doorway of the lantern-house with a bundle of waste in one hand and an oil-can in the other.
This was one of the lamplighters of the light-ship--Jerry MacGowl--a man whose whole soul was, so to speak, in that lantern. It was his duty to clip and trim the wicks, and fill the lamps, and polish the reflectors and brasses, and oil the joints and wheels (for this was a revolving--in other words a flashing light), and clean the glasses and windows. As there were nine lights to attend to, and get ready for nightly service, it may be easily understood that the lamplighter's duty was no sinecure.
The shout of Jerry recalled the king from his contemplation of things in general to the lantern in particular.
"All ready to hoist, Jerry?" inquired Mr Welton, going forward.
"All ready, sir," exclaimed the man, looking at his handiwork with admiration, and carefully removing a speck of dust that had escaped his notice from one of the plate-glass windows; "An't she a purty thing now?--baits the best Ginaiva watch as iver was made. Ye might ait yer supper off her floor and shave in the reflictors."
"That's a fact, Jerry, with no end of oil to your salad too," said Mr Welton, surveying the work of the lamplighter with a critical eye.
"True for ye," replied Jerry, "an' as much cotton waste as ye like without sinful extravagance."
"The sun will be down in a few minutes," said the mate, turning round and once more surveying the western horizon.
Jerry admitted that, judging from past experience, there was reason to believe in the probability of that event; and then, being of a poetical temperament, he proceeded to expatiate upon the beauty of the evening, which was calm and serene.
"D'ye know, sir," he said, gazing towards the shore, between which and the floating light a magnificent fleet of merchantmen lay at anchor waiting for a breeze--each vessel reflected clearly in the water along with the dazzling clouds of gold that towered above the setting sun--"D'ye know, sir, I niver sees a sky like that but it minds me o' the blissid green hills an' purty lakes of owld Ireland, an' fills me buzzum wid a sort of inspiration till it feels fit a'most to bust."
"You should have been a poet, Jerry," observed the mate, in a contemplative tone, as he surveyed the shipping through his telescope.
"Just what I've often thought mesilf, sir," replied Jerry, wiping his forehead with the bunch of waste--"many a time I've said to mesilf, in a thoughtful mood--
"Wan little knows what dirty clo'es May kiver up a poet; What fires may burn an' flout an' skurn, An' no wan iver know it."
"That's splendid, Jerry; but what's the meanin' of `skurn?'"
"Sorrow wan of me knows, sir, but it conveys the idee somehow; don't it, now?"
"I'm not quite sure that it does," said the mate, walking aft and consulting his chronometer for the last time, after which he put his head down the hatchway and shouted, "Up lights!" in a deep sonorous voice.
"Ay, ay, sir," came the ready response from below, followed by the prompt appearance of the other lamplighter and the four seamen who composed the crew of the vessel Jerry turned on his heel, murmuring, in a tone of pity, that the mate, poor man, "had no soul for poethry."
Five of the crew manned the winch; the mate and Jerry went to a block-tackle which was also connected with the lifting apparatus. Then the order to hoist was given, and immediately after, just as the sun went down, the floating light went up,--a modest yet all-important luminary of the night. Slowly it rose, for the lantern containing it weighed full half a ton, and caused the hoisting chain and