BACK TO THE WATER
Stuffing the letter into a pocket, Jack reached for his cap, and
hurried out to summon his crew, consisting of George Santo.
“All hands on deck!” he said. “Mr. Mate, we’re going to start work
right away. There are only three weeks of May left, and before long
we’ll have Holden’s Ferry going.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied the mate, “if ever we _do_ get her floated.”
“_If!_” cried Jack. “You talk like a codfish. Of _course_ we’re going
to get her floated! Before we do another thing, though, I’m going to
hold a war council with your dad. He knows best how we can tackle the
job.”
They hurried to the boat-builder’s yard, where Tony was found at work.
“Mr. Farnham has given me that sloop,” Jack cried as he approached.
“See, here’s his letter.”
Tony’s features developed a broad smile, and he glanced through the
note.
“So you’ll soon be setting off on a journey around the world, or
thereabouts, eh?” he remarked at last, banteringly.
“Well, maybe about half-way, or perhaps as far as Greenport breakwater,”
Jack returned; “but you know, Mr. Santo, we can’t do much till we get
your help.”
“Well, what do you want me to do?” asked Tony good-humoredly, putting
down his hammer.
“I don’t want to bother you too much,” said Jack, “but you said that if
we got stuck you would give us a bit of help.”
“Why, yes, I’ll run over there in the dory some Saturday and help you
to launch her, when you’re ready.”
“Thank you. That will be a tremendous help. Shall we dig a channel down
to the water and float her out that way, or dig the sand away from her
bow――she is lying bow-on toward the river, you know――and get her out
with a winch?”
“I’ll take a winch. That will be easier. I’ll find a place on the
opposite bank of the river where I can moor the winch, and then run a
cable across the water to the sloop. We’ll drag her out when you’ve
done enough spade-work. But mind, you want to get all that sand clear
away from her sides, and make a nice slope up from her bow so that she
won’t stick when the winch begins to haul on her. How long will that
take you? Till next fall?”
“I hope not. We couldn’t very well manage it by next Saturday. That
would only give us two days. But we’ll be ready for the winch the
Saturday after.”
“All right,” replied Tony. “We’ll make that a date.”
To any one less enthusiastic than her proud new owner, the sloop
would not, perhaps, have looked such a priceless possession. There is
something peculiarly desolate about the appearance of a wreck at any
time, and, at least up to the time when the Sangus had again changed
its course, the _Sea-Lark_ had looked even more desolate than she would
otherwise have done, because she was so far from the river. The water
had left her canting over heavily to port, her stump of mast, a yard
long, sticking up. On the port side her deck was now about level with
the sand; her starboard side, raised four or five feet higher, had
formed a barrier against which a solid bank of the restless sand had
settled. Had she been an old boat and needing paint at the time she
came to grief, decay might have left its stamp upon her in the three
years she had lain there; but it so happened that her oaken beams and
hard-pine planking were as sound at the time of the accident as on the
day when they were first put into her, while the fact that she had
received a double coat of paint only two months before, helped her
further to resist the weather. She was not, therefore, really a wreck,
as nothing of any consequence, except the mast, was broken.
Taking turn and turn about, the two boys worked strenuously, first
removing the sand that had silted up against her starboard side. It
was no light task, for the drift ran the whole length of the sloop, and
the lads’ backs were aching and their limbs weary before they seemed
to have made any impression on it. When the skipper called a final
halt, however, they were well pleased with the result of their arduous
labors. Nevertheless, Jack realized now for the first time how great
was the task he had set himself, and how hopeless would be his efforts
without the kindly assistance of Tony with the winch.
In three days the boys had entirely removed the drift, and then began
to dig down around the sides of the vessel, to release her from
the grip of the sand there. George proved not only a willing but
an extremely useful helper. Though not so tall as his chum, he was
strong, and gave promise of developing into an unusually powerful man.
But it was the spirit with which he threw himself into the task that
Jack appreciated as much as anything. Just before the date of the
appointment with Tony, once when they were resting, perched on the side
of the _Sea-Lark_, George surveyed the piles of sand which they had
removed in the past week.
“We only want one thing now,” he said thoughtfully, “to make us both
thoroughly happy.”
“What’s that?”
“A peach of a wind-storm, to fill up all the holes we’ve been digging!
If that happened, I don’t believe we’d have the pluck to start all over
again.”
“Don’t suggest such an awful thing,” cried Jack, “or I’ll smite you
with a belaying-pin! By the way, George, I can’t do that.”
“Oh, I _am_ so sorry!” said the other. “Why not?”
“Because there doesn’t seem to be a belaying-pin on board. We’ll need
one or two, won’t we? The skipper always thumps people on the head
with a belaying-pin, particularly the mate. There’s something about a
marlinespike, too, isn’t there? I’m not quite sure what a marlinespike
is, but I think I club you with it when there isn’t a belaying-pin
handy.”
With a deft movement of his body, the mate got behind the skipper and
neatly tipped him overboard into the hole they had so painstakingly
dug; nor was the captain allowed to climb on board again until the mate
had extracted a promise that he would at all times be treated in a
humane manner when they were far out on the bounding ocean.
During the last of the preparations for Tony’s operations their spirits
rose greatly, for it began to look as though the sloop merely needed
a gentle tug to slide her away from the bed in which she had so long
lain. At school on Friday Jack struggled hard to keep his attention
riveted on his lessons, but it was an effort in which he failed
utterly; for the launching on the morrow of the good ship _Sea-Lark_
seemed a matter of infinitely greater importance than the problems that
were put before him.
It was late that afternoon when the boy finally declared that all was
ready for the great ceremony. He and his chum had carried out Tony’s
instructions to the letter, even searching about on the bank of the
river for driftwood, which they dragged to the sloop and placed in
position just under her nose. That night Tony was informed of their
readiness for his part in the program, and the boat-builder bade them
be prepared for an early start next day, as it might take until late in
the afternoon to get through.
Not very long after sunrise next day Jack leaped from bed and looked
anxiously out at the window. It seemed as though the Fates were
going to be kind to him, because the weather was perfect for the
day’s operations. The boy was too impatient to eat much breakfast,
and after a hurried meal went round to the Santo boat-yard, where
he found Tony and George already moving the necessary gear into the
sailing-dory――much strong manila rope with blocks and tackle, a
powerful hand-winch, several heavy planks, a number of rollers, and a
bucket of grease. When these were aboard, the sail was hoisted, and the
dory dropped down the creek to the river. There, as the stream was not
over wide, the oars had to be used, and the dory was rowed some four
miles, Tony pulling steadily all the time, and the boys taking turn
and turn about at the other oar.
“It’s hard work against the wind,” said Tony, “but we shall feel the
benefit of it coming back.”
It was only a little after nine o’clock when they reached the spot
where the _Sea-Lark_ lay, and some hours were left before high water
was due. First Tony went ashore and inspected the work the boys had
already done.
“That’s good,” he declared unhesitatingly. “She ought to come off like
a wet fish slides off a plate. Lend a hand with those rollers and
boards in the dory, and we’ll fix her.”
Already Tony seemed to take as keen an interest in the salvage
operations as the boys had done. He soon had everything ready on that
bank of the Sangus, and then crossed the river to moor the winch in the
sand there, so that it would haul without moving. This was not easily
accomplished, for the loose sand gave poor anchorage. When, however, it
was done to his satisfaction, the cable was run across the water and
made fast to the sloop. Tony sent the boys back to start hauling, while
he stood by the _Sea-Lark_ to “navigate” her. Jack and his chum each
seized a crank and began to tighten the cable. It came easily enough
until the drag of the sloop began. Then they managed a bare-half-turn
only. Putting forth every ounce of their strength, they struggled to
start the sloop on her journey toward the water, but it was beyond
them. The _Sea-Lark_ refused to glide with fairy footsteps down to the
river after her long rest ashore. Tony meanwhile was heaving at the
side of the boat to loosen her keel in the sand, but when he saw the
joint efforts of the boys were unequal to the task, he beckoned them to
fetch the dory across.
“She seems to be glued there,” he declared, “but that glue will have to
come unstuck, if it takes us the whole day to do the trick. Let’s see
if all three of us working at the winch can get her to start.”
Tony rolled up his sleeves, put the boys together at one crank, and
applied his own strength to the other.
“Now, lads,” he said, “give her all you’ve got. Heave!”
There was a back-breaking moment of straining, cracking muscles.
And then something happened. The _Sea-Lark_ reluctantly began to move.
_Click-click-clickety-click_, went the winch.
“Easy, now,” ordered Tony. “Rest a few minutes. She’ll come all right,
and we have plenty of time.”
From that moment the launching of the sloop, though slow, was a
certainty. A dozen times Tony had to make the trip across the river to
adjust the planks and rollers beneath the boat’s keel, but she came up
the slope without mishap.
“My word, she looks big!” Jack exclaimed when he had climbed to the top
and was lumbering along on her side, down to the water’s edge.
“What did you take her for?――a canoe?” Tony laughed. “She won’t look as
big, though, when she gets into the water. Still, a thirty-foot sloop
is all you two will want to handle in a breeze.”
When their prize was within a foot of the water, Tony went over her
with a calking-iron and mallet, plugging up the worst of the leaky
places with oakum so that she could safely be taken up the river as far
as the boat-yard without danger of sinking on the way. Jack watched
this performance with a critical eye.
“Is she very bad?” he asked with some anxiety.
“Why, no,” replied Tony. “She’s not what you might call seaworthy, with
these seams wide open, but you’re bound to get that. I didn’t expect to
have much trouble with her hull, and I must say that, considering all
things, she’s in pretty fair condition. Just the same, I guess there’s
enough work on her to keep you busy for a week or so.”
“I don’t care if it takes us all summer! Yes, I do, too,” said Jack. “I
want to get her shipshape in a month or so if possible.”
“Well, I’m not saying you can’t do that,” replied Tony, surveying the
hull with a professional gaze. “But let me tell you this: you’ve got
your work cut out; that is, if you mean to put her into first-class
shape. Still, even as she is she’d fetch a nice little sum, once we get
her down to the yard where people come looking for boats.”
“It’s very nice to hear you say that, Mr. Santo,” replied Jack, “but I
feel as proud of her already as though she were a steam-yacht, and it
would have to be a very tempting offer to make me part with her.”
“There!” said Tony at last. “I think she’ll do now. Some water is bound
to slop into her on the way home, but she won’t go back on us and sink,
anyway. Let’s get her launched.”
A few more turns on the winch fetched the _Sea-Lark_ down into the
river, and Jack could not suppress a shout when he saw her actually
afloat. She did not look quite so large as when lying high and dry on
the top of the bank, but she was a fair-sized craft.
A tow-rope was fastened from her to the dory, and then the smaller
boat’s sail was hoisted, Tony going alone in his dory, the boys
traveling on the sloop to steer. This was a somewhat delicate
operation, for the channel was narrow in places, and there were
several bends. During this part of the run the mate stood in the bow,
armed with a long pole, to ease her prow away from the occasional
shallows into which they ran, and Jack remained at the wheel, glowing
with pride in his new possession. For, helpless though she was without
spars, rigging, or gear, she was his, and it was not difficult for him
to adorn her with imaginary sails bellying to the wind as she careened
over, leaving a foamy trail astern. It seemed almost unbelievable to
him that such a thing as this could have happened. Never, during the
time when he and his friend had played at being pirates on the sloping
deck of the stranded derelict, had he dreamed that the day would come
when the water would be flowing beneath her keel once more and that the
hand which steadied her wheel would be his.
“Ahoy, there!” he called gaily to the mate.
“Aye, aye, sir!” responded George, glancing astern, over his shoulder.
“Shin up aloft and put a two-reef in the maintops’l,” the skipper
barked, endeavoring to imitate the deep tones of Cap’n Crumbie.
Deserting his post for a moment, George ran to the mast stump, and
clung to it like a bear hugging a pole.
“Belay, there!” shouted Jack, laughingly. “Get back on to your job,
or――”
The skipper never completed his sentence. Slipping quickly back to the
nose of the boat, George arrived there at the precise moment when the
_Sea-Lark_ ran upon one of the numerous shallows which threatened to
impede her progress all along the route. The sloop came to a standstill
with a jerk, and George, his hands outstretched to grasp his pole once
more, took a graceful dive straight over the side. He could swim like a
young otter, but there was no need for that, as the water came up only
to his chest, and he soon climbed back on board, there to withstand the
playful taunts of his father and of the captain, who condemned him to
twenty years’ imprisonment in the chain-locker and ordered him to be
deprived of his wages for life, for absenting himself from the ship
without leave.
Together the lads managed to push the sloop off again, and the
journey was resumed, but soon they reached the bend bringing them
into Cow Creek, and there the dory’s sail again became useless, so it
was lowered and Tony and George rowed the rest of the distance, the
exercise preventing the boy from suffering any ill effects from his
ducking. George was nevertheless thankful by the time they approached
his father’s boat-yard, for the sloop hung behind like a load of lead,
the wind, which was now against her, adding to the work. She was gently
eased up on to the bank of the stream, there to lie until her various
minor ailments had been attended to and until she was declared fit for
a new career of adventure.