Windjammers and Sea Tramps | Page 9

I could not be disrated, as I was only a cabin-boy, but a substitutionary penalty was invoked against me. The chief officer, who had a voice and an eye that indicated whiskey, was a real artist in profane language. He vowed that as sure as "Hell was in Moses" I would never become worthy the name of a British sailor. This outburst of alcoholic eloquence touched me keenly, and ever since that time I have wondered wherein this original gentleman saw connection between the great Hebrew law-giver and the nether regions.
The cabin-boy's duties were not only numerous, but arduous. Under serious physical penalties he had to keep the cabin, its lamps and brass-work clean, and wash the towels and table-cloths. (The latter were usually made of canvas.) The skipper's and mate's beds had to be made, and washing done for them; small stores such as coffee, tea, sugar, biscuits, &c., were under the combined care of him and the commander. In addition to this, he had to keep all the deck brass-work shining; keep his watch and look-out; and, when he had learned how to steer, take his trick at the helm. If any of the small sails, such as royals, top-gallant sails, main top-gallant stay-sail, or flying jib had to be taken in, he was expected to be the first to spring into the rigging or along the jib-boom to do it, provided it was his watch on deck. It was really a sensational sight to witness these mannikins spinning up aloft and handling the flapping sail. I wonder now that more of them did not come to grief because of the stupid aversion many of the skippers had to allowing them to pass through what is known as the lubber hole--that is, a hole in the main-and fore-tops leading to the top-mast rigging. Occasionally both men and boys would lose their hold and fall on the rail, and be smashed to pieces. Sometimes they struck the rail, were killed outright, and then fell into the sea. And this is not to be wondered at when it is considered that their bodies were at right angles to the mast while passing over the round top from the main to the top-mast rigging. The mortality from this cause was, however, very small; such accidents generally occurred on cold, icy days or nights, when the hands had become benumbed. Yet it was amazing how these mere children managed to hold on at any time. But that is not all. If the vessel had to be tacked, it was the cabin-boy's duty to let go the square mainsail sheet when "tacks and sheets" was called; and when the order was given to "mainsail haul," that is, swing the main yard round, he had to haul in the opposite main sheet; and if he did not get it in so that the foot of the mainsail came tight up against the foremain shroud before the sail filled, he got into grievous trouble. If the vessel was at anchor in a roadstead, he had to keep his two-hour anchor watch the same as the rest of the crew. In beating up narrow channels such as the Swin, he was put in the main-chains to heave the lead and sing the soundings, and the sweet child-voiced refrain mingled with the icy gusts, which oft-times roared through the rigging whilst the cold spray smote and froze on him. Never a kind word of encouragement was allowed to cheer the brave little fellow, and his days and nights were passed in isolation until he was old enough and courageous enough to assert himself. The only peace that ever solaced him was when his watch below came, and he laid his poor weary head and body in the hammock. If the vessel was in port, and the shore easy of access, it was he who had to scull the captain ashore, and wait for him in the cold, still, small hours in the morning, until the pleasures of grog and the relating of personal experiences had been exhausted. If the boy were asleep when the skipper came down, he got a knock on the head, and was entertained to a selection of oaths which poured forth until he got alongside the vessel. He was then told with strong manifestations of dignity to pass the painter aft; this done, he was rope-ended for having slept.
If the vessel were anchored in a roadstead, and the captain had to be rowed ashore, he had to be one of the crew of four, he pulling the bow oar, and, as soon as the rest landed, he was left in charge of the boat. The sequel to an incident of this kind is one of the most gruesome in the annals of maritime