The halyards could be heard whirring up toward the sky, while two
bunches of us sagged and lifted on the deck below. Among us it was,
"Now then--o-ho--sway away--good," until topsails were flat as boards,
and the schooner, hauled up, had heeled to her scuppers.
"Slap the stays'l to her and up with the balloon. Half the fleet's
driving to the no'the'ard. Lively."
The Johnnie liked that rarely. With the seventy-five foot main-boom
sheeted in to her rail, with the thirty-seven-foot spike bowsprit
poking a lane in the sea when she dove and a path among the clouds
when she lifted, with her midship rail all but flush with the sea and
the night breeze to sing to her--of course she liked it, and she
showed her liking. She'd tear herself apart now before she'd let
anything in the fleet go by her. And red and green lights were racing
to both quarters of her.
"Into the boat!" It was the skipper's voice again, and fifteen men
leaped over the rail at the word. Two dropped into the dory and
thirteen jumped from the vessel's rail onto thwarts or netting or into
the bottom of the seine-boat--anywhere at all so that they get in
quickly. As extra hand on deck I had to stand by and pay out the
painter.
In the middle of it came the skipper sliding down from the mast-head.
"Drop astern, boat and dory," he called out, and himself leaped over
the quarter and onto the pile of netting as into the Johnnie's boiling
wake they went. The thirty-eight-foot seine-boat was checked up a
dozen fathoms astern, and the dory just astern of that. The two men in
the dory had to fend off desperately as they slid by the seine-boat.
On the deck of the Johnnie were the cook, who had the wheel, and
myself, who had to stand by the sheets. There would be stirring times
soon, for even from the deck occasional flashes of light, marking
small pods of mackerel, could be made out on the surface of the sea.
Clancy, now at the mast-head alone, was noting these signs, we felt
sure, and with them a whole lot of other things. To the mast-heads of
other vessels out in the night were other skippers, or seine-masters,
and all with skill and nerve and a great will to get fish.
The Johnnie was making perhaps ten knots good now, and with every jerk
the painter of the seine-boat chafed and groaned in the taffrail
chock. The skipper from the boat called for more line. "Slack away a
bit, slack away. We're not porpoises."
I jumped to attend to the painter just as Clancy's voice broke in from
above: "Swing her off about two points, ease your main sheet and keep
an eye on that light to looard. Off, off--that's good--hold her--and
Joe, slack stays'l and then foretops'l halyards. Be ready to let go
balloon halyards and stand by down-haul. Look alive."
I paid out some sheet from the bitt by the wheel-box, unbuttoned the
after stays'l tack, jumped forward and loosed up halyards till her
kites dropped limp.
"Down with your balloon there--and at the wheel there, jibe her over.
Watch out for that fellow astern--he's pretty handy to our boat. Watch
out in boat and dory!" The last warning was a roar.
The big balloon gossamer came rattling down the long stay and the jaws
of the booms ratched, fore and main, as they swung over. From astern
came the voices of the men in boat and dory, warning each other to
hang on when they felt her jibing. Some of them must have come near to
being jerked overboard. "Why in God's name don't you slack that
painter?" came the voice of the skipper from the boat.
I leaped to give them more painter, and "Draw away your jib--draw away
your jumbo," came from aloft. Sheets were barely fast when it was:
"Steady at the wheel, George--steady her--ste-a-dy--Great God! man, if
you can't see can't you feel that fellow just ahead? And, skipper,
tell them to close their jaws astern there--water won't hurt 'em.
Ready all now?"
"Ready!" roared back the skipper.
"All right. Down with your wheel a bit now, George. Down--more yet.
Hold her there."
The vessels that we had dodged by this bit of luffing were now
dropping by us; one red light was slowly sliding past our quarter to
port, and one green shooting by our bow to starboard. Evidently Clancy
had only been waiting to steer clear of these two neighbors, for there
was plenty of fish in sight now. The sea was flashing with trails of
them. Clancy now began to bite out commands.
"Stand ready everybody. In the boat and dory there--is everything
ready, skipper?"
"All ready, boat and dory."
Out came Clancy's orders then--rapid fire--and as he ripped them out,
no whistling wind could smother his voice, no swash of the sea could
drown it. In boat, dory and on deck, every brain glowed to understand
and every heart pumped to obey.
"Up with your wheel, George, and let her swing by. Stea-dy. Ready in
the boat. Steady your wheel. Are you ready in the boat? Let her swing
off a little more, George. Steady--hold her there. Stand by in the
boat. Now then--now! Cast off your painter, cast off and pull to the
west'ard. And drive her! Up with the wheel. More yet--that's good.
Drive her, I say, skipper. Where's that dory?--I don't see the dory.
The dory, the dory--where in hell's the dory?--show that lantern in
the dory. All right, the dory. Hold her up, George. Don't let her
swing off another inch now. Drive her, boys, drive her! Look out now!
Stand by the seine! Stand by--the twine--do you hear, Steve! The
twine! Drive her--drive her--blessed Lord! drive her. That's the
stuff, skipper, drive her! Let her come up, George. Down with your
wheel--down with you wheel--ste-a-dy. Drive her, skipper, drive her!
Turn in now--in--shorter yet. Drive her now--where's that dory!--hold
her up!--not you, George! you're all right--ste-a-dy. Hold that dory
up to the wind!--that's it, boys--you're all right--straight ahead
now! That's the stuff. Turn her in now again, skipper. In the dory
there--show your lantern in the dory and be ready for the seine-boat.
Good enough. Now cover your lantern in the dory and haul away when
you're ready."
To have experienced the strain and drive of that rush, to have held an
oar in the boat during that and to have shared with the men in the
confidence they gathered--ours was a skipper to steer a boat around a
school--and the soul that rang in Clancy's voice!--why, just to stand
on deck, as I did, and listen to it--it was like living.
During this dash we could make out neither boat nor dory from deck,
but the flashes of light raised by the oars at every stroke were
plainly to be seen in that phosphorescent sea. Certainly they were
making that boat hop along! Ten good men, with every man a long, broad
blade, and double banked, so that every man might encourage his mate
and be himself spurred on by desperate effort. Legs, arms, shoulders,
back, all went into it and their wake alive with smoke and fire to
tell them they were moving! To be in that?--The middle of a black
night on the Atlantic was this, and the big seine-heaver was throwing
the seine in great armfuls. And Hurd and Parsons in the little dory
tossing behind and gamely trying to keep up! They were glad enough to
be in the dory, I know, to get hold of the buoy, and you can be sure
there was some lively action aboard of her when Clancy called so
fiercely to them to hold the buoy up to the wind, so that the efforts
of the crew of the seine-boat, racing to get their two hundred odd
fathoms of twine fence around the flying school, might not go for
naught.