Books: Jack in the Forecastle

J >> John Sherburne Sleeper >> Jack in the Forecastle

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33

This eBook was produced by Theresa Armao.

JACK IN THE FORECASTLE
OR
INCIDENTS IN THE EARLY LIFE OF HAWSER MARTINGALE

by John Sherburne Sleeper (1794-1878)

Chapter I
Farewell to New England

I was born towards the close of the last century, in a village
pleasantly situated on the banks of the Merrimack, in
Massachusetts. For the satisfaction of the curious, and the
edification of the genealogist, I will state that my ancestors
came to this country from England in the middle of the
seventeenth century. Why they left their native land to seek an
asylum on this distant shore whether prompted by a spirit of
adventure, or with a view to avoid persecution for religion's
sake is now unknown. Even if they "left their country for
their country's good," they were undoubtedly as respectable,
honest, and noble, as the major part of those needy ruffians who
accompanied William the Conqueror from Normandy in his successful
attempt to seize the British crown, and whose descendants now
boast of their noble ancestry, and proudly claim a seat in the
British House of Peers.

From my earliest years I manifested a strong attachment to
reading; and as matters relating to ships and sailors captivated
my boyish fancy, and exerted a magic influence on my mind, the
"Adventures of Robinson Crusoe," "Peter Wilkins," "Philip
Quarle," and vagabonds of a similar character, were my favorite
books. An indulgence in this taste, and perhaps an innate
dispostion to lead a wandering, adventurous life, kindled in my
bosom a strong desire, which soon became a fixed resolution, TO
GO TO SEA. Indeed, this wish to go abroad, to encounter dangers
on the mighty deep, to visit foreign countries and climes, to
face shipwrecks and disasters, became a passion. It was my
favorite theme of talk by day, and the subject of my dreams by
night. As I increased in years my longing for a sailor's life
also increased; and whenever my schoolfellows and myself were
conversing about the occupations we should select as the means of
gaining a livelihood hereafter, I invariably said, "I will be a
sailor."

Had my parents lived, it is possible that this deep-seated
inclination might have been thwarted; that my destiny might have
taken another shape. But my father died while I was quite young,
and my mother survived him but a few years. She lived long
enough, however, to convince me that there is nothing more pure,
disinterested, and enduring than a mother's love, and that those
who are deprived of this blessing meet at the outset of their
pilgrimage a misfortune which can never be remedied. Thus,
before I had numbered fifteen years, I found myself thrown a waif
on the waters of life, free to follow the bent of my inclination
to become a sailor.

Fortune favored my wishes. Soon after the death of my parents, a
relation of my mother was fitting out a vessel in Portsmouth,
N.H., for a voyage to Demarara; and those who felt an interest in
my welfare, conceiving this a good opportunity for me to commence
my salt-water career, acceded to my wishes, and prevailed on my
relative, against his inclination, to take me with him as a cabin
boy.

With emotions of delight I turned my back on the home of my
childhood, and gayly started off to seek my fortune in the world,
with no other foundation to build upon than a slender frame, an
imperfect education, a vivid imagination, ever picturing charming
castles in the air, and a goodly share of quiet energy and
perseverance, modified by an excess of diffidence, which to this
day I have never been able to overcome.

I had already found in a taste for reading a valuable and never-
failing source of information and amusement. This attachment to
books has attended me through life, and been a comfort and solace
in difficulties, perplexities, and perils. My parents, also,
early ingrafted on my mind strict moral principles; taught me to
distinguish between right and wrong; to cherish a love of truth,
and even a chivalric sense of honor and honesty. To this,
perhaps, more than to any other circumstance, may be attributed
whatever success and respectability has attended my career
through life. It has enabled me to resist temptations to evil
with which I was often surrounded, and to grapple with and
triumph over obstacles that might otherwise have overwhelmed me.

When I reached Portsmouth, my kinsman, Captain Tilton, gave me an
ungracious reception. He rebuked me severely for expressing a
determination to go to sea.

"Go to sea!" he exclaimed in a tone of the most sovereign
contempt. "Ridiculous! You are a noodle for thinking of such a
thing. A sailor's life is a dog's life at best! Besides, you
are not fit for a sailor, either by habits, taste, or
constitution. With such a pale face, and slight figure, and
sheepish look, how can you expect to fight the battle of life on
the ocean, and endure all the crosses, the perils, and the rough-
and-tumble of a sailor's life? Hawser, you are not fit for a
sailor. You had much better go home and try something else."

Finding me unconvinced by his arguments, and unshaken in my
determination, he concluded his remarks by asking me abruptly the
startling question, "Are you ready to die?"

I replied, that I had not bestowed much thought on the subject;
but frankly admitted I was not altogether prepared for such a
solemn event.

"Then, Hawser," said he with marked emphasis, "if you are not
prepared to die to die of YELLOW FEVER don't go to Demarara
at this season of the year!" And he left the room abruptly,
apparently disgusted at my obstinacy.

On the following day, Captain Tilton took me on board the brig
Dolphin. I did not mark her imperfections, which were many. She
was a vessel, bound on a voyage to a foreign port, and,
therefore, I was charmed with her appearance. In my eyes she was
a model of excellence; as beautiful and graceful as the
celebrated barge in which Cleopatra descended the Cyndnus to meet
Mark Antony.

The captain led me to the mate, who was busily engaged about the
decks. "Mr. Thompson," said he, "here is a lad who wants to go
to sea, and I have foolishly engaged to take him as a cabin boy.
Keep him on board the brig; look sharp after him; don't let him
have an idle moment; and, if possible, make him useful in some
way until the vessel is ready for sea."

Mr. William Thompson was a worthy man, who subsequently became a
shipmaster and merchant of great respectability in Portsmouth.
He treated me with consideration and kindness, and took pleasure
in teaching me the details of the business I was about to
undertake.

During the few days in which the Dolphin lay at the wharf I
gained much nautical information. I learned the names of the
different parts of a vessel; of the different masts, and some
portions of the rigging. But the great number of ropes excited
my admiration. I thought a lifetime would hardly suffice to
learn their different names and purposes. I accomplished
successfully the feat of going aloft; and one memorable day,
assisted the riggers in "bending sails," and received an ill-
natured rebuke from a crusty old tar, for my stupidity in failing
to understand him when he told me to "pass the gasket: while
furling the fore-topsail. Instead of passing the gasket around
the yard, I gravely handed him a marlinspike!

In the course of my desultory reading, I had learned that vessels
at sea were liable to "spring a leak," which was one of the most
dreaded perils of navigation; and I had a vague notion that the
hold of a ship was always so arranged that a leak could be
discovered and stopped. I was, therefore, not a little puzzled
when I found the hold of the Dolphin was crammed with lumber; not
a space having been left large enough to stow away the ghost of a
belaying pin. Finding the captain in a pleasant mood one day, I
ventured to ask him what would be the consequence if the brig
should spring a leak in her bottom.

"Spring a leak in her bottom!" he replied, in his gruff manner;
"why, we should go to the bottom, of course"

The brig was now ready for sea. The sailors were shipped, and I
watched them closely as they came on board, expecting to find the
noble-looking, generous spirited tars I had become so familiar
with in books. It happened, however, that three out of the five
seamen who composed the crew were "old English men-of-war's-men,"
and had long since lost any refinement of character or rectitude
of principle they originally possessed. They were brought on
board drunk by the landlord with whom they boarded; for the "old
tars" of those days fifty years ago had no homes; when on
shore all they cared for was a roof to shelter them, and plenty
of grog, in which they would indulge until their money was gone,
when they would go to sea and get more.

Now ensued the bustle incident to such occasions. Captain
William Boyd, who had volunteered to pilot the brig down the
harbor, came on board; the sails were hoisted; the deck was
crowded with persons to take leave of their friends, or gratify a
morbid curiosity; and what with the numerous questions asked, the
running to and fro, the peremptory commands of the mate, the
unmusical singing and shouting of the crew as they executed the
various orders, together with the bawling of the handcartmen and
truckmen as they brought down the last of the trunks, chests,
stores, and provisions, my brain was in a whirl of excitement; I
hardly knew whether I stood on my head or my heels.

At last the captain came down the wharf, accompanied by Joshua
Haven, one of the owners, and some friends, who had made
arrangements to proceed in the brig so far as the mouth of the
harbor. The single rope which connected the Dolphin with the
shore was cast loose; the pilot gave some orders; that were Greek
to me, in a loud and energetic tone; the men on the wharf gave
three cheers, which were heartily responded to by the temporary
passengers and crew; and with a pleasant breeze from the
westward, we sailed merrily down the river.

Some few persons lingered on the wharf, and continued for a time
to wave their handkerchiefs in token of an affectionate farewell
to their friends. I seemed to stand alone while these
interesting scenes were enacted. I took no part in the warm
greetings or the tender adieus. I had bidden farewell to my
friends and relatives in another town some days before; and no
one took sufficient interest in my welfare to travel a few miles,
look after my comforts, and wish me a pleasant voyage as I left
my native land.

Although from the reception I had met with I had little reason to
expect present indulgences or future favors from my kinsman who
commanded the brig, I did not regret the step I had taken. On
the contrary, my bosom bounded with joy when the last rope was
severed, and the vessel on whose decks I proudly stood was
actually leaving the harbor of Portsmouth, under full sail, bound
to a foreign port. This was no longer "the baseless fabric of a
vision." The dream of my early years had come to pass; and I
looked forward with all the confidence of youth to a bold and
manly career, checkered it might be with toil and suffering, but
replete with stirring adventure, whose wild and romantic charms
would be cheaply won by wading through a sea of troubles. I now
realized the feeling which has since been so well described by
the poet:

"A life on the ocean wave,
A home on the rolling deep,
Where the scattered waters rave,
And the winds their revels keep.

"Like an eagle caged, I pine
On this dull, unchanging shore;
O, give me the flashing brine,
The spray, and the tempest's roar."

Chapter II
INCIDENTS AT SEA

The Dolphin was what is termed, in nautical parlance, an
"hermaphrodite brig," of about one hundred and fifty tons burden;
and had been engaged, for some twelve or fifteen years, in the
West India trade. This vessel could not with propriety be
regarded as a model of grace and beauty, but gloried in bluff
bows, a flat bottom, and a high quarter-deck; carried a large
cargo for her tonnage, and moved heavily and reluctantly through
the water.

On this particular voyage, the hold of the brig, as I have
already stated, was filled with lumber; and thirty-five thousand
feet of the same article were carried on deck, together with an
indefinite quantity of staves, shooks, hoop poles, and other
articles of commerce too numerous to mention. On this enormous
deck-load were constructed, on each side, a row of sheep-pens,
sufficiently spacious to furnish with comfortable quarters some
sixty or seventy sheep; and on the pens, ranged along in
beautiful confusion, was an imposing display of hen-coops and
turkey-coops, the interstices being ingeniously filled with
bundles of hay and chunks of firewood. The quarter-deck was
"lumbered up" with hogsheads of water, and casks of oats and
barley, and hen-coops without number.

With such a deck-load, not an unusually large one in those days,
the leading trucks attached to the fore-rigging were about half
way between the main deck and the foretop. It was a work of
difficulty and danger to descend from the deck-load to the
forecastle; but to reach the foretop required only a hop, skip,
and a jump. The locomotive qualities of this craft, misnamed the
Dolphin, were little superior to those of a well constructed
raft; and with a fresh breeze on the quarter, in spite of the
skill of the best helmsman, her wake was as crooked as that of
the "wounded snake," referred to by the poet, which "dragged its
slow length along."

It was in the early part of July, in the year 1809, that the brig
Dolphin left Portsmouth, bound on a voyage to Dutch Guiana, which
at that time, in consequence of the malignant fevers that
prevailed on the coast, was not inaptly termed "the grave of
American seamen." The crew consisted of the captain and mate,
five sailors, a green hand to act as cook, and a cabin boy.
There was also a passenger on board, a young man named Chadwick,
who had been residing in Portsmouth, and was going to Demarara,
in the hope which fortunately for him was not realized of
establishing himself in a mercantile house.

The forecastle being, for obvious reasons, untenable during the
outward passage, these ten individuals, when below deck, were
stowed away in the cabin and steerage, amid boxes, bales, chests,
barrels, and water casks, in a manner somewhat miscellaneous, and
not the most commodious or comfortable. Indeed, for several days
after we left port, the usual and almost only access to the cabin
was by the skylight; and those who made the cabin their home,
were obliged to crawl on all fours over the heterogeneous mass of
materials with which it was crowded, in order to reach their
berths!

The owners of the brig must have calculated largely on favorable
weather during the passage; for had we experienced a gale on the
coast, or fallen in with the tail-end of a hurricane in the
tropics, the whole deck-load would have been swept away, and the
lives of the ship's company placed in imminent peril. The
weather, however, proved remarkably mild, and the many
inconveniences to which the crew were subjected were borne with
exemplary patience, and sometimes even regarded as a capital
joke.

We passed the Whale's Back at the mouth of the Piscataqua, and
the Isles of Shoals loomed up through the hazy atmosphere; and
although the wind was light, and the sea apparently smooth, the
brig began to have a motion an awkward, uneasy motion for
which I could not account, and which, to my great annoyance,
continued to increase as we left the land. I staggered as I
crossed the quarter-deck, and soon after we cleared the harbor,
came near pitching overboard from the platform covering the
sheep-pens. My head was strangely confused, and a dizziness
seized me, which I in vain struggled to shake off. My spirits,
so gay and buoyant as we sailed down the harbor, sunk to zero.

At length I could not resist the conviction that I was assailed
with symptoms of seasickness, a malady which I had always held in
contempt, believing it to exist more in imagination than in fact,
and which I was determined to resist, as unsailor-like and
unmanly. Other symptoms of a less equivocal description, soon
placed the character of my illness beyond a doubt. My woe-begone
looks must have betrayed my feelings, for one of the men told me,
with a quizzical leer, that old Neptune always exacted toll in
advance from a green hand for his passage over the waters.

Mr. Thompson, who seemed to pity my miserable condition, gravely
assured me that exercise was a capital thing as a preventive or
cure for seasickness, and advised me to try the pump. I followed
his advice: a few strokes brought up the bilge water, than which
nothing at that time could have been more insufferably nauseous!
I left the pump in disgust, and retiring to the after part of the
quarter-deck, threw myself down on a coil of rope, unable longer
to struggle with my fate. There I remained unnoticed and uncared
for for several hours, when, the wind having changed, the rope
which formed my bed, and proved to be the "main sheet," was
wanted, and I was unceremoniously ejected from my quarters, and
roughly admonished to "go below and keep out of the way!" I
crawled into the cabin, and, stretched on some boxes, endeavored
to get a little sleep; but the conglomeration of smells of a most
inodorous character, which, as it seemed to my distempered fancy,
pervaded every part of the vessel, prevented my losing a sense of
suffering in sleep.

As I lay musing on the changes which a few days had wrought in my
condition, and, borne down by the pangs of seasickness, was
almost ready to admit that there was prose as well as poetry in a
sailor's life, I was startled by a terrific noise, the
announcement, I supposed, of some appalling danger. I heard
distinctly three loud knocks on the deck at the entrance of the
steerage, and then a sailor put his head down the companion-way,
and in a voice loud, cracked, and discordant, screamed in a tone
which I thought must have split his jaws asunder, "LA-AR-BO-A-RD
W-A-T-CH A-H-O-O-Y."

In spite of my sickness I started from my uncomfortable resting
place, scrambled into the steerage, and by a roll of the brig was
tumbled under the steps, and suffered additional pains and
apprehensions before I ascertained that the unearthly sounds
which had so alarmed me were nothing more than the usual mode of
"calling the watch," or in other words, the man with the
unmusical voice had gently hinted to the sleepers below that
"turn-about was fair play," and they were wanted on deck.

To add to my troubles, the wind in the morning shifted to the
south-east, and thus became a head wind, and the old brig became
more restless than ever, and pitched and rolled to leeward
occasionally with a lurch, performing clumsy antics in the water
which my imagination never pictured, and which I could neither
admire nor applaud.

For several days we were beating about Massachusetts Bay and St.
George's Bank, making slow progress on our voyage. During that
time I was really seasick, and took little note of passing
events, being stretched on the deck, a coil of rope, or a chest,
musing on the past or indulging in gloomy reflections in regard
to the future. Seasickness never paints ideal objects of a
roseate hue. Although I was not called upon for much actual
work, I received no sympathy for my miserable condition; for
seasickness, like the toothache, is seldom fatal, notwithstanding
it is as distressing a malady as is found in the catalogue of
diseases, and one for which no preventive or cure, excepting
time, has yet been discovered. Time is a panacea for every ill;
and after the lapse of ten or twelve days, as the brig was
drawing towards the latitude of Bermuda, my sickness disappeared
as suddenly as it commenced; and one pleasant morning I threw
aside my shore dress, and with it my landsman's habits and
feelings. I donned my short jacket and trousers, and felt every
inch a sailor!

The Bermudas are a cluster of small islands and rocks lying in
the track of vessels bound from New England to the West Indies.
The climate is mild, and the atmosphere remarkably salubrious,
while the trace of ocean in the vicinity has long been noted for
severe squalls at every season of the year. A squall at sea no
unusual occurrence is often the cause of anxiety, being
attended with danger. Sometimes the rush of wind is so violent
that nothing will resist its fury, and before the alarm is given
and the canvas reduced, the masts are blown over the side or the
vessel capsized. Therefore, on the approach of a squall, a
vigilant officer will be prepared for the worst, by shortening
sail and making other arrangements for averting the threatened
danger.

I hardly knew how it happened, but one afternoon when we were a
little to the northward of Bermuda, and should have kept a
lookout for squalls, we were favored with a visit from one of a
most energetic character. Its sudden approach from under the lee
was either unnoticed or unheeded until the captain accidentally
came on deck. He was instantly aware of the perilous condition
of the brig, for the "white caps" of the waves could be
distinctly seen, and even the roar of the wind could be heard as
it rushed towards us over the water. Before any orders could be
executed before the sails could be taken in, the yards braced
round, or even the helm shifted, the tempest broke over us. The
rain fell in torrents, the wind blew with tremendous violence,
and a scene of indescribable confusion ensued.

The captain stood near the companion-way, much excited, giving
directions with energy and rapidity. "Hard up your helm!" said
he; "Hard up! Lower away the mainsail! Let go the peak
halliards! Why DON'T you put the helm hard up? Let go all the
halliards fore and aft! Clew down the fore-topsail! Haul in the
starboard braces! There steady with the helm!"

The mate and sailors were running about the decks, looking
frightened and bewildered, eagerly casting loose some ropes, and
pulling desperately upon others; the sails were fluttering and
shaking, as if anxious to quit the spars and fly away to unknown
regions; the brig felt the force of the wind, and for a few
moments was pressed over on her side until her beam ends were in
the water; and what with the shouting of the captain, the
answering shouts of the mate, the unearthly cries of the sailors,
as they strove to execute the orders so energetically given; the
struggling of the canvas, the roaring of the winds and the waves,
the creaking of the cordage, the beating of the rain against the
decks, and the careening of the vessel, it is not remarkable that
I felt somewhat alarmed and excited, as well as deeply interested
in witnessing for the first time in my life A SQUALL AT SEA.

The squall was of short duration; although the rain continued for
a time, the wind, after a few minutes, gave but little
inconvenience. In the course of an hour the murky clouds had
disappeared, the sun shone out brightly as it was sinking towards
the horizon, and the brig was again pursuing her way towards her
destined port, urged slowly along by a light but favorable
breeze.

Having got my sea legs on, I could proudly strut about among the
lumber and sheep-pens without fear of rolling overboard. I found
the sailors a rough but good-natured set of fellows, with but
little refinement in ideas or language. Although they amused
themselves with my awkwardness, and annoyed me with practical
jokes, they took a pride and pleasure in inducting me into the
mysteries of their craft. They taught me the difference between
a granny knot and a square knot; how to whip a rope's end; form
splices; braid sinnett; make a running bowline, and do a variety
of things peculiar to the web-footed gentry. Some of them also
tried hard, by precept and example, but in vain, to induce me to
chew tobacco and drink grog! Indeed, they regarded the ability
to swallow a stiff glass of New England rum, without making a wry
face, as one of the most important qualifications of a sailor!

The "old men-of-war's-men" had passed through strange and
eventful scenes; they were the type of a class of men which have
long since passed away; they could spin many a long and
interesting yarn, to which I listened with untiring eagerness.
But no trait in their character astonished me more than their
uncontrollable passion for intoxicating drinks. As cabin boy, it
was my duty to serve out to the crew a half pint of rum a day.
These old Tritons eagerly looked forward to the hour when this
interesting ceremony came off; their eyes sparkled as they
received their allotted portion of this enemy to the human race;
and they practised every art to procure, by fair means or foul,
an increased allowance. If by accident or shrewd management one
of them succeeded in obtaining half a glass more than he was
fairly entitled to, his triumph was complete. But if he
imagined he had not received the full quantity which was his due,
ill humor and sulky looks for the next twenty-four hours bore
testimony to his anger and disappointment. These men ignored the
good old proverb that "bread is the staff of life," and at any
time, or at all times, would prefer grog to bread.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33