Chaunty Man . . Man the capstan, bullies!
Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o! Ha!-o-o!
Chaunty Man . . Capstan-bars, you tarry souls!
Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o! Ha!-o-o!
Chaunty Man . . Take a turn!
Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o!
Chaunty Man . . Stand by to fleet!
Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o!
Chaunty Man . . Stand by to surge!
Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o!
Chaunty Man . . Ha!--o-o-o-o!
Men . . . . . . TRAMP!
And away we go!
Chaunty Man . . Hark to the tramp of the
bearded shellbacks!
Men . . . . . . Hush!
O hear 'em tramp!
Chaunty Man . . Tramping, stamping--
treading, vamping,
While the cable
comes in ramping.
Men . . . . . . Hark!
O hear 'em stamp!
Chaunty Man . . Surge when it rides!
Surge when it rides!
Round-o-o-o
handsome as it slacks!
Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o-o-o!
hear 'em ramp!
Ha!-oo-o-o!
hear 'em stamp!
Ha!-o-o-o-o-oo!
Ha!-o-o-o-o-o-o!
Chorus . . . . They're shouting now; oh! hear 'em
A-bellow as they stamp:--
Ha!-o-o-o! Ha!-o-o-o!
Ha!-o-o-o!
A-shouting as they tramp!
Chaunty Man . . O hark to the haunting chorus
of the capstan and the bars!
Chaunty-o-o-o
and rattle crash--
Bash against the stars!
Men . . . . . . Ha-a!-o-o-o!
Tramp and go!
Ha-a!-o-o-o!
Ha-a!-o-o-o!
Chaunty Man . . Hear the pawls a-ranting: with
the bearded men a-chaunting;
While the brazen dome above 'em
Bellows back the 'bars.'
Men . . . . . . Hear and hark!
O hear 'em!
Ha-a!-o-o!
Ha-a!-o-o!
Chaunty Man . . Hurling songs towards the
heavens--!
Men . . . . . . Ha-a!-o-o!
Ha-a!-o-o!
Chaunty Man . . Hush! O hear 'em!
Hark! O hear 'em!
Hurling oaths among their spars!
Men . . . . . . Hark! O hear 'em!
Hush! O hear 'em!
Chaunty Man . . Tramping round between the
bars!
Chorus . . . . They're shouting now; oh! hear
A-bellow as they stamp:--
Ha-a!-o-o-o! Ha-a!-o-o-o!
Ha-a!-o-o-o!
A-shouting as they tramp!
Chaunty Man . . O do you hear the
capstan-chaunty!
Thunder round the pawls!
Men . . . . . . Click a-clack,
a-clatter
Surge!
And scatter bawls!
Chaunty Man . . Click-a-clack, my bonny boys,
while it comes in handsome!
Men . . . . . . Ha-a!-o-o!
Hear 'em clack!
Chaunty Man . . Ha-a!-o-o! Click-a-clack!
Men . . . . . . Hush! O hear 'em pant!
Hark! O hear 'em rant!
Chaunty Man . . Click, a-clitter, clicker-clack.
Men . . . . . . Ha-a!-o-o!
Tramp and go!
Chaunty Man . . Surge! And keep away the slack!
Men . . . . . . Ha-a!-o-o!
Away the slack:
Ha-a!-o-o!
Click-a-clack
Chaunty Man . . Bustle now each jolly Jack.
Surging easy! Surging e-a-s-y!!
Men . . . . . . Ha-a!-o-o!
Surging easy
Chaunty Man . . Click-a-clatter--
Surge; and steady!
Man the stopper there!
All ready?
Men . . . . . . Ha-a!-o-o!
Ha-a!-o-o!
Chaunty Man . . Click-a-clack, my bouncing boys:
Men . . . . . . Ha-a!-o-o!
Tramp and go!
Chaunty Man . . Lift the pawls, and come back
easy.
Men . . . . . . Ha-a!-o-o!
Steady-o-o-o-o!
Chaunty Man . . Vast the chaunty!
Vast the capstan!
Drop the pawls! Be-l-a-y!
Chorus . . . . Ha-a!-o-o! Unship the bars!
Ha-a!-o-o! Tramp and go!
Ha-a!-o-o! Shoulder bars!
Ha-a!-o-o! And away we blow!
Ha-a!-o-o-o!
Ha-a!-o-o-o-o!
Ha-a!-o-o-o-o-o!
I
_The Figure Out of the Sea_
He began without any circumlocution.
I joined the _Mortzestus_ in 'Frisco. I heard before I signed on, that
there were some funny yarns floating round about her; but I was pretty
nearly on the beach, and too jolly anxious to get away, to worry about
trifles. Besides, by all accounts, she was right enough so far as grub
and treatment went. When I asked fellows to give it a name, they
generally could not. All they could tell me, was that she was unlucky,
and made thundering long passages, and had no more than a fair share of
dirty weather. Also, that she had twice had the sticks blown out of her,
and her cargo shifted. Besides all these, a heap of other things that
might happen to any packet, and would not be comfortable to run into.
Still, they were the ordinary things, and I was willing enough to risk
them, to get home. All the same, if I had been given the chance, I
should have shipped in some other vessel as a matter of preference.
When I took my bag down, I found that they had signed on the rest of the
crowd. You see, the "home lot" cleared out when they got into 'Frisco,
that is, all except one young fellow, a cockney, who had stuck by the
ship in port. He told me afterwards, when I got to know him, that he
intended to draw a pay-day out of her, whether any one else did, or not.
The first night I was in her, I found that it was common talk among the
other fellows, that there was something queer about the ship. They spoke
of her as if it were an accepted fact that she was haunted; yet they all
treated the matter as a joke; all, that is, except the young cockney--
Williams--who, instead of laughing at their jests on the subject, seemed
to take the whole matter seriously.
This made me rather curious. I began to wonder whether there was, after
all, some truth underlying the vague stories I had heard; and I took the
first opportunity to ask him whether he had any reasons for believing
that there was anything in the yarns about the ship.
At first he was inclined to be a bit offish; but, presently, he came
round, and told me that he did not know of any particular incident which
could be called unusual in the sense in which I meant. Yet that, at the
same time, there were lots of little things which, if you put them
together, made you think a bit. For instance, she always made such long
passages and had so much dirty weather--nothing but that and calms and
head winds. Then, other things happened; sails that he knew, himself,
had been properly stowed, were always blowing adrift _at night_. And
then he said a thing that surprised me.
"There's too many bloomin' shadders about this 'ere packet; they gets
onter yer nerves like nothin' as ever I seen before in me nat'ral."
He blurted it all out in a heap, and I turned round and looked at him.
"Too many shadows!" I said. "What on earth do you mean?" But he refused
to explain himself or tell me anything further--just shook his head,
stupidly, when I questioned him. He seemed to have taken a sudden, sulky
fit. I felt certain that he was acting dense, purposely. I believe the
truth of the matter is that he was, in a way, ashamed of having let
himself go like he had, in speaking out his thoughts about "shadders."
That type of man may think things at times; but he doesn't often put
them into words. Anyhow, I saw it was no use asking any further
questions; so I let the matter drop there. Yet, for several days
afterwards, I caught myself wondering, at times, what the fellow had
meant by "shadders."
We left 'Frisco next day, with a fine, fair wind, that seemed a bit like
putting the stopper on the yarns I had heard about the ship's ill luck.
And yet--
He hesitated a moment, and then went on again.
For the first couple of weeks out, nothing unusual happened, and the
wind still held fair. I began to feel that I had been rather lucky,
after all, in the packet into which I had been shunted. Most of the
other fellows gave her a good name, and there was a pretty general
opinion growing among the crowd, that it was all a silly yarn about her
being haunted. And then, just when I was settling down to things,
something happened that opened my eyes no end.
It was in the eight to twelve watch, and I was sitting on the steps, on
the starboard side, leading up to the fo'cas'le head. The night was fine
and there was a splendid moon. Away aft, I heard the timekeeper strike
four bells, and the look-out, an old fellow named Jaskett, answered him.
As he let go the bell lanyard, he caught sight of me, where I sat
quietly, smoking. He leant over the rail, and looked down at me.
"That you, Jessop?" he asked.
"I believe it is," I replied.
"We'd 'ave our gran'mothers an' all the rest of our petticoated
relash'ns comin' to sea, if 'twere always like this," he remarked,
reflectively--indicating, with a sweep of his pipe and hand, the
calmness of the sea and sky.