"Anybody with him?"
"Well, not with him exactly." I shook my head, and said nothing of
Minnie Arkell, nor of Sam Hollis, although Clancy, looking at me, I
could see, guessed that there was something else; and he might have
asked me something more only for the crowd and little Johnnie Duncan.
Johnnie was trying to climb up onto Clancy, and so Clancy, turning
from me, took Johnnie up and gave him a toss that all but hit his head
against the roof. "And how's she heading, Johnnie-boy?" and taking a
seat stood Johnnie up beside him.
"East-s'uth-east, and a fair, fair wind," answered Johnnie.
"East-s'uth-east--my, but you said that fine. And a fair wind? Must be
bound Georges Bank way. And how long will you hold that course?"
"From Eastern Point--a hundred and thirty-five mile."
"Yes--and then?"
"Then you throw her up and heave the lead."
"And heave the lead--sure enough. And then?"
"And then, if you find you're clear of the North Shoal, you put her to
the s'uth'ard and west'ard till you're in onto the Bank."
"S'uth'ard and west'ard--that's the boy. Man, but I'll live to see you
going to the Custom House and taking out your master's papers yet."
"And can I join the Master Mariners then?"
"That's what you can, and walk down Main Street with a swing to your
shoulders, too. And now you're up on the Bank and twenty-five fathom
of water and the right bottom--and you're a hand-liner, say, after
cod--what then?"
"Let go her chain and begin fishing."
"And would you give her a short or a long string of cable?"
"M-m--I'm not sure. A long string you'd hang on better, but a short
scope and you could get out faster in case you were dragging and going
onto the shoals. What would you do, Captain Clancy? You never told me
that, did you?"
"Well, it would depend, too, though handliners generally calculate on
hanging on, blow how it will. But never mind that; suppose your
anchor dragged or parted and into the shoal water you went in a gale,
an easterly, say--and the bank right under your lee--wind sixty or
seventy or eighty mile an hour--what would you do?"
"Anchor not hold? M-m--Then I'd--give her the second one."
"And if that dragged, too--or parted?"
"Both of 'em? M-m"--Johnnie was taking deep breaths now--"why, then
I'd have to put sail to her----"
"What sail?"
"Why, jib, jumbo, fore and main."
"And the wind blowing eighty mile an hour?"
"Why, yes, if she'd stand it."
"My, but she'd have to be an able vessel that--all four lowers and the
wind blowing eighty mile an hour. Man, but you're a dog! Suppose she
couldn't stand it?"
"Then I'd reef the mains'l."
"And if that was too much--what then?"
"Reef it again."
"And too much yet?"
"Balance-reef it--maybe take it in altogether--and the jib with it,
and get out the riding-sail."
"And would you do nothing to the fores'l?"
"M-m--I dunno--with some vessels maybe I'd reef that, too--maybe take
it in altogether."
"My, but you're cert'nly a dog. And what then?"
"Why, then I'd try to work her out."
"And would you be doing anything with the lead?"
"Oh, we'd be keeping the lead going all the time, for banging her
across and back like that you wouldn't know where you were just."
"And would you come clear, d'y' think?"
"Yes, sir--if the gear held and with an able vessel we ought to."
"If the gear held--that's it. Be sure, Johnnie-boy, you see that the
gear is all right before ever you leave port. And with an able vessel,
you say? With that new one of your gran'pa's--would you come clear
with her?"
"Oh, she'd come clear--built to go fresh halibuting next winter, that
one."
"Yes--and seining this spring. But suppose now you were
haddocking--trawling--eight or ten dories, and you just arrived on the
grounds, picked out a good spot, and there you are--you're all baited
up and ready?"
"Winter time?"
"Winter time, yes."
"First I'd single-reef the mains'l. Then I'd hold her up a little--not
too much--me being skipper would be to the wheel myself--and then I'd
give the order, 'Dories to the rail!' and then, when everything was
all right--when I'd be satisfied we wouldn't foul the next vessel's
trawls--I'd call out, 'Over with your wind'ard dory!'"
"Loud and clear you'd holler, because the wind might be high."
"Loud and clear, yes--'Let go your wind'ard dory!'--like that. And
'Set to the west'ard,' or the east'ard, whatever it was--according to
the tide, you know. I'd call that out to the dory as it went sliding
by the quarter--the vessel, of course, 'd be sailing all the time--and
next, 'Wind'ard dory to the rail!' And then, when we'd gone ahead
enough, again, 'Let go your looard dory!' and then, 'Looard dory to
the rail! Let go your wind'ard dory! Let go your looard dory!' and so
till they were all over the side."
"And supposing, they being all out, it came on thick, or snowing, and
some of them went astray, and it was time to go home, having filled
her with eighty or ninety or a hundred thousand of fresh fish, a fair
wind, and every prospect of a good market--what then?"
"Oh, I'd have to wait, of course--cruise around and stand by."
"And suppose you couldn't find them again?"
"Why, after waiting until I was sure they were gone, I'd come home."
"And your flag?"
"Half-mast."
"Half-mast--that's it. I hope you'll never have to fly a half-masted
flag, Johnnie. But suppose you did see them, and they were in shoal
water, say--and the shoals to looard, of course, and it blowing----"
"I'd stand in and get them."
"And it blowing hard--blowing hard, Johnnie?--and shoal--shoal
water?"
"Why"--Johnnie was looking troubled--"why, I'd have to stand in just
the same, wouldn't I?"
"Your own men and you ask me, Johnnie-boy?"
"Why, of course I'd have to stand in and get them."
"And if you got in so far you couldn't get out--you got smothered,
say?"
"Why, then--then we'd be lost--all hands would be lost."
Poor Johnnie! he was all but crying.
"That's it. And that's where some would say you showed yourself a man,
and some a fool, Johnnie-boy. Some would say, 'Use judgment--think of
the other eighteen or twenty men safe aboard the vessel.' Would you
use judgment, or what, Johnnie?"
"M-m--I don't know. What would you do, Captain Clancy?"
"What d'y' think I'd do, Johnnie?" Clancy drew the boy up and tucked
the little face to his own broad breast. The rest of us knew well
enough what Clancy would do. "Judgment hell!" Clancy would say, and go
in and get lost--or maybe get away with it where a more careful man
would be lost--but we waited to hear what Johnnie--such a little
boy--would say. He said it at last, after looking long into Clancy's
face.
"I think you'd go in, Captain Clancy."
Clancy laughed at that. "Lord, Johnnie-boy, no wonder everybody loves
you. No matter what a man does, all you see is the best that's in
him."
It was time to clean up then, and Johnnie of course was bound to
help.
V