THE _FOLLOW ME_
Two days before they had decided that Steve was to be captain, Joe,
chief engineer, Phil, first mate, Perry, second mate, Ossie, steward,
Neil, cabin boy and Han, crew. Neil and Han had naturally rebelled at
being left without office or title and the omission had been laughingly
remedied to their entire satisfaction. In fact, Han was quite stuck up
over his official position, pointing out that it might be possible for a
boat to get along without a captain or mate or even a steward, but that
a crew was absolutely essential. He declared his intention of purchasing
a yachting cap at the first port of call and having the inscription
"Crew" worked on it in gold bullion.
When the _Adventurer_ left her berth each member of the boat's company
was at his post, or, at least, at what he surmised to be his post.
Steve, of course, was at the control, Joe, with the hatches up, was
watching his engine approvingly, Phil, boat-hook in hand, was on the
forward deck, Perry hovered around Steve, begging to be allowed to blow
the whistle, Ossie and Neil watched from opposite sides of the bridge
deck and Han, in the role of crew, hitched his trousers at intervals,
touched his cap when anyone so much as looked at him and said "Ay, ay,
sir!" at the slightest provocation. And with all hands on duty the
cruiser pointed her white bow towards The Narrows.
Steve never took his eyes from the course for more than a moment until
they had passed Coney Island Light, for there were many craft bustling
or slopping about and it really required some navigation to get through
The Narrows and past Gravesend Bay without running into something. Perry
suspected that Steve was working the whistle overtime, but realized that
too many precautions were better than too few. It was Perry's ambition
to learn navigation so that he might ultimately be entrusted with the
wheel, and to that end he stood at Steve's elbow until, when they gained
the Main Channel, Ossie's dulcet voice was heard proclaiming, "Grub,
fellows!" from below. Steve was rather too preoccupied to be very
informative, but Perry did manage to imbibe some information. For
instance, he learned that a sailing craft had the right of way over a
power craft, something he had not known previously, and observed that a
large proportion of them used that right to its limit. He got quite
incensed with a small, blunt-nosed schooner which insisted on crossing
the _Adventurer's_ course just as they were passing Fort Hamilton. Steve
had to slow down rather hurriedly to avoid a collision and Perry viewed
the two occupants of the schooner's deck with a scowl as they lazed
across the cruiser's bows.
"Cheeky beggars," he muttered.
He also learned the whistle code that morning: one blast for starboard,
two for port, four short blasts for danger and three for going astern.
Joe, who had applied oil to every part of the engine that he could
reach, supplied the added information that a sailboat under way on the
starboard tack had the right of way over anything afloat--with the
possible exception of a torpedo!--and that other craft had to turn to
port in passing them. Joe had wrested that bit of knowledge from a
volume entitled, "Motor Boats and Boating," which he carried in a side
pocket every minute of the trip, and passed it on with evident pride.
For the next few days he discovered other interesting items in that
precious book and divulged them at intervals with what to Perry seemed
a most offensive assumption of superiority.
"You just read that in your old book," Perry would grumble. "Anybody
could do that!" Nevertheless, he hearkened and remembered against the
time when the conduct of the boat should be handed over to the hands of
the efficient second mate. When Joe became insufferably informative
Perry blandly asked him questions about the engine, such as, "What's the
difference, Joe, between a two-cycle and a four-cycle motor?" or "What
happens when the water-jacket becomes unbuttoned?" and was delighted to
find that Joe lapsed into silence until he had had time to
surreptitiously consult his book.
Today, however, Joe's ignorance of motors mattered not at all, for the
engine ran sweetly and the _Adventurer_ churned through the green water
without a falter. More than once Joe might have been observed gazing
down at the six cylinder-heads surmounted by their maze of wires with an
expression of awe. Joe's thoughts probably might have been put into
words thus: "Yes, I see you doing it, but--but _why?_"
Steve didn't go down to the cabin for dinner, but ate it as best he
could on the bridge. Neil, in his capacity of cabin-boy, arranged a
folding stool beside him, and from that, at intervals between moving the
wheel, blowing the whistle or anxiously scanning the course, Steve
seized his food. The others descended to the main cabin and squeezed
themselves about the table, which, adorned with a cloth of wonderful
sheen and whiteness that bore the cruiser's former name and flag woven
in the centre, held a plentiful supply of canned beans, fried bacon,
potato chips, bread and butter and raspberry jam. Everything was
thrillingly fine, from the pure linen tablecloth and napkins to the
silverware. The plates held the same design that was worked into the
napery, as did even the knives and forks and spoons. Ossie was
apologetic as to the menu, although he need not have been.
"There wasn't time to do much cooking," he said, "and, besides, I
haven't got the hang of things yet. I never tried to do anything on an
alcohol stove before. It takes longer, seems to me. I couldn't get the
oven heated until about five minutes ago, and so if those potato-chips
aren't very warm--"
"I'm warm enough, if they aren't," said Neil. "How do you open these
little round window things?"
"Turn the thumb-screws," advised Han. "I think everything's bully, and
I'm as hungry as a bear. Pass the beans, Perry. Got any more tea out
there, cook?"
"Yes, but I'm steward and not cook," replied Ossie, arising from his
camp-stool and stepping into the galley. "Hand over the bread plate,
someone, and I'll cut some more. Bet you it's going to cost us something
for grub, fellows!"
"Well," responded Han, "I'd rather go broke that way than some others.
What kind of tea is this, Ossie?"
"Ceylon. Doesn't it suit you?"
"Oh, I can worry it down, thanks. Sugar, please, Phil. I generally drink
orange pekoe, though. You might lay in a few pounds of it at the next
stop."
"I might," said Ossie, resuming his place at the end of the board, "and
then again I might not. And the probabilities are not. If you don't want
all the potatoes, Joe, you may shove them along this way."
The repast was frequently interrupted by the shrill blast of the
whistle, and whenever that sounded most of the diners scrambled up to
peer interestedly through the ports. In fact, so loth were they to miss
anything that might be happening that they finished dinner in record
time, consuming dessert, which consisted of bananas and pears, outside.
Ossie alone remained below, and from the galley came the clatter of
dishes and a cheerful tune as the steward cleared away and washed up.
Joe smiled at Phil.
"Ossie's having the time of his life now," he said, "but wait until the
novelty wears off. Then we'll hear some tall kicking about the
dishwashing, or I miss my guess."
"We'll have to take turns helping him at that," said Steve. "If we don't
he's likely to mutiny. There's Coney over there, fellows."
The others gathered on the port side to gaze across the water at the
crowded beach and the colourful maze of buildings. "It looks jolly,
doesn't it?" asked Han. "Couldn't we run in closer, Steve?"
"We could, but it would take us out of our course. I'm heading for
Rockaway Point over there. We've got a good ways to go yet before we
reach Fire Island." Steve had the chart opened before him and he laid a
finger on the point mentioned.
"Looks like it would be more fun to duck in there," said Neil, vaguely
indicating the neighbourhood of Hempstead Bay.
"Maybe it would," answered the Captain, "but there are too many islands
and things to suit me. I'd rather stay outside here and slip in through
Fire Island Inlet. After I get used to running this hooker I'll take her
anywhere there's a heavy dew, but right now I'm all for the open sea,
Neil."
Phil and Han, who had never before gazed on the marvels of Coney Island,
even from a distance, were listening to Joe's tales of the delights of
that entrancing resort and following his finger as he pointed out the
features he recognised. "There's the coaster where I bounced up and came
down on a nail," he chuckled. "It was a fine, able-bodied nail, too, and
I--um--had to stay on it all the rest of the trip because the car was so
crowded there wasn't room to shift."
"Smell the peanuts, fellows," murmured Perry dreamily. "Gee, I wish I
had some!"
Ossie appeared on deck ten minutes later and was very indignant because
he had not been informed that they were passing Coney. "I think some of
you lobsters might have sung out," he mourned. "I've never seen Coney
Island."
"Well, have a look," laughed Han. "That's it back there."
"Huh! Can't see anything at this distance," growled Ossie. "It's just a
smear of buildings. What's the place ahead there!"
"Rockaway," answered Joe, "and that's Jamaica Bay in there. Say, there's
some sea on, isn't there?"
In fact the _Adventurer_ was now doing a good deal of plunging as she
made her way through the long swells that swept around the sandy point.
And she wasn't satisfied with merely kicking her head and heels up,
either, for with the forward and aft motion there was considerable
rocking, and as the point came abreast a shower of spray deluged the
forward deck and spattered in on the bridge. At Steve's direction the
windows were closed, Han performing the task with many "Ay, ay, sirs!"
Joe looked anxious and presently sought the forward cabin, reappearing a
minute later to ask all and sundry if they knew where he had put his
supply of "anti-seasick stuff." No one could tell him and he again took
himself off, and before he could locate the medicine the _Adventurer_
had passed the inlet and had settled down on an even keel again. Han and
Ossie spread themselves out on the forward cabin roof and the others
made themselves comfortable on the seats of the bridge deck, Phil
pointing out seriously and with evident satisfaction that the cushions
were not only cushions but life-preservers as well. Perry was for
borrowing Phil's fountain-pen and putting his name on one.
There was no longer any talk of being too warm, for the breeze was
straight from the southeast and soon sent them, one after another, into
the cabins for their sweaters. They passed Rockaway Beach a good three
miles to port and by half-past one were off Point Lookout. Every instant
held interest, for many pleasure boats were out and their white sails
gleamed in the crisp sunlight. Three porpoise appeared off Short Beach
and proved very companionable, for they stayed with the _Adventurer_ for
quite ten minutes. One placed himself directly in front of the boat and
the others took up positions about six feet apart on the starboard bow,
and for two miles or more they maintained their stations, their dusky,
gleaming backs arching from the water with the regularity of clock-work.
Most of the boys had never seen the fish before and were much
interested. Joe called them "puffing pigs" and Perry insisted that they
were dolphins, and a fervid argument followed. They finally agreed, at
Phil's suggestion, to compromise and call them "porphins." Possibly the
discussion bored the subjects, or maybe they were insulted by the title
applied to them, for about the time Joe and Perry reached an agreement
the porpoise disappeared as suddenly as they had arrived on the scene
and it was minutes later before the puzzled mariners descried them
heading shoreward some distance away.
They missed Ossie after that and when he was found he was stretched out
on a seat in the main cabin sound asleep and snoring. Neil came back
with the news that one of the "puffing pigs" had flopped aboard and was
asleep below. Steve took advantage of plain sailing to instruct Joe,
Phil and Perry in the handling of the wheel and controls, and each of
the pupils took his turn at guiding the cruiser along the sandy coast.
Fire Island Inlet was reached shortly before three and Steve took the
wheel again and ran the _Adventurer_ past Jack's Island, around the
curve of Short Beach and into the waters of the Great South Bay. There
was still a six-mile run to their anchorage, however, and it was nearly
four when the cruiser at last crept in among the clustered craft off Bay
Shore and dropped her anchor. A hundred yards away a cluster of boys on
the deck of a sturdy cabin-cruiser swung their caps and sent a hail
across. Steve seized the megaphone from its rack and answered.
"_Follow Me_, ahoy!" he shouted.
"Ahoy yourself!" was the ribald reply. "We're coming over!"
The crew of the _Follow Me_ tumbled into a tiny dingey, cast off and
were lost to sight beyond the intervening craft. Then they reappeared,
their small boat so deep that the water almost spilled over the sides,
Wink Wheeler struggling with a pair of ludicrously short oars and the
other five laughingly urging him on.
"Throw a couple of fenders over, Han," instructed Steve, "and stand by
with your boat-hook."
The _Follow Me's_ tender crept alongside amidst noisy greetings, Perry
performing excruciatingly on the whistle until pulled away, and in
another moment the visitors were aboard. They were a nice-looking,
upstanding lot, already well sunburned by a week afloat. Wink Wheeler
was the oldest of the six, for he was eighteen. Harry Corwin, Bert Alley
and Caspar Temple were seventeen and George Browne, or "Brownie," as he
was called, and Tom Corwin were sixteen. First of all they had to see
the boat and so the whole gathering trooped from one end to the other,
exclaiming and admiring.
"The _Follow Me_'s a regular tub compared with this palace," said Harry
Corwin. "Why, there isn't anything finer than this along the South
Shore, I guess!"
"Don't you call our boat names," protested "Brownie." "The _Follow Me_
may not be as nifty as this, but she's one fine little boat, just the
same. How long did it take you to come from New York, Joe?"
"Nearly four hours and a half, but we ran slow. I guess we could have
done it in three hours easily if we'd tried to. This boat can do twenty
at a pinch. How fast is the _Follow Me?_"
"She's done eighteen," answered Harry Corwin, "but fourteen's her
average gait. She burns up gas like the dickens when she does any more.
Yesterday we went to Freeport in fifty-seven minutes, and that's a good
seventeen and a half miles. She had to hump herself, though."
After the wonders of the _Adventurer_ had been exhausted the boys
gathered on the bridge deck and Steve laid a chart on the floor and they
discussed their plans. It had already been decided that they should
cruise northward as far as Maine. As there was no hurry in getting
there, they were to take things easy, stopping at such points as
promised interest and putting into harbour at night. As it was already
after four o'clock, they finally concluded to stay where they were until
morning, although the _Follow Me_ crowd were eager to be away. "Our
first harbour would be Ponquogue," said Steve, "and that's a good
forty-six or-seven mile run. Personally, I don't care much about messing
around outside after dark. This is all new water to me. If we start in
the morning we'll have plenty of time to run as far as Shelter Island,
if we want to."
This was agreed to, although Perry protested that as the charts showed a
life-saving station every five miles or so all down the shore it was a
shame not to take a chance. "I've always wanted to be taken off a
sinking ship in a breeches-buoy," he said.
"Would you mind being wrecked in the daytime?" asked Neil. "I'd love to
see you in a breeches-buoy, Perry, and I couldn't if it was dark."
"Let's all go up to the hotel for dinner," suggested Wink Wheeler. "They
have dandy feeds there, and maybe we can scare up some fun. Any of you
fellows like to bowl?"
"First of all," said Han, "we want to see your boat, fellows. Let's go
over now. I'm ready for hotel grub if the rest of you are. Can we all
go, Steve, or does someone have to stay behind and look after the
boat?"
"That's the crew's duty," said Phil gravely. "We'll bring you back a
sandwich, Han."
"Yes, a Han-sandwich," added Perry.
When he had been toppled backward down the after cabin steps Harry
Corwin said that they'd been in the habit of leaving the _Follow Me_
unguarded for hours at a time and that so far no one had molested her,
and Steve decided that it would be safe enough if they locked the
cabins. So presently the _Adventurer's_ tender was lifted off the chocks
and put overboard and after hasty toilets the boys piled into it and the
two dingeys, each loaded to the limit, set off for the _Follow Me_. The
latter was a thirty-four foot craft, with a hunting cabin that reached
almost to the stern, leaving a cockpit scarcely large enough to swing a
cat in; although, as Perry remarked, it wasn't likely anyone would want
to swing a cat there. The cabin was surprisingly roomy and held four
berths, while a fifth bunk was placed forward of the tiny galley. The
latter was intended for the crew but at present it was the quarters of
"Brownie." The sixth member of the ship's company occupied at night a
mattress placed on the floor and philosophically explained that
sleeping there had the advantage of security; there was no chance to
roll out of bed in rough weather. The engine compartment lay between
cabin and cockpit and held a six-cylinder engine. Steering was done from
the cockpit, under shelter of an awning, but the engine control was
below. The _Follow Me_ was four years old and had seen much service, but
she had been newly painted, varnished and overhauled and looked like a
thoroughly comfortable and seaworthy boat. She was copper painted below
the water-line and black above, with a gilt line and her name in gilt on
bows and stern. Compared to the _Adventurer_ she was a modest enough
craft, but her six mariners asked nothing better and secretly believed
that in rough weather she would put the bigger boat to shame. Captain
Corwin levied on the slender supply of ginger-ale and sarsaparilla
contained in the tiny ice-chest and after that they again set forth,
this time for the nearest landing.
They "did" the town exhaustively and at six-thirty descended on the
hotel thirteen strong and demanded to be placed together at one table.
It is doubtful if the hotel management made much money on the thirteen
dinners served to the boys, for everyone of them ate as though he hadn't
seen food for days. Somewhere around eight or half-past they dragged
themselves back to the boats and paddled out to the _Adventurer_, where,
since the evening was decidedly chilly, they thronged the after cabin
and flowed out into the cockpit. Perry started up his talking machine
and played his dozen records over a number of times, and everyone talked
at once--except some who sang--and, in the words of the country
newspapers, "a pleasant time was had by all." And at ten the _Follow
Me's_ crew got back into their dingey and went off into the darkness of
a starlight night, rather noisy still in a sleepy way, and, presumably,
reached their destination. At least, no more was heard of them that
night. On the _Adventurer_ berths were pulled out or let down and a
quarter of an hour after the departure of the visitors not a sound was
to be heard save the lapping of the water against the hull and the
peaceful breathing of seven healthily tired boys.