During the following days all hands were so busy bending new sails and
reeving running gear for our turn of the Cape that there was little time
for anything else. Much of this work could have been avoided had the ship
been under better command when she cleared, but Trunnell had no authority
to do anything, and the agents were waiting until the skipper took
command and could attend to the necessary overhauling.
At meals I saw little of either Trunnell or Captain Thompson and his
third mate, but in the short hours of the dog-watch in the evening I had
a chance to talk with them upon other subjects than those relating
immediately to the running of the ship.
The dog-watch is the short watch between six and eight o'clock in the
evening. This is made short to keep one watch from turning to at any
regular time and consequently getting all the disagreeable work to be
done during those hours. For instance, if one watch had to be on deck
every night from twelve until four in the morning, it would mean that the
other watch would be on deck from four to eight, and consequently would
have to do all the washing down of decks and other work which occurs upon
every regulated ship before breakfast. So the dog-watch divides a
four-hour watch and is served alternately. As second mate I had access to
the poop and could come aft on the weather side like any officer, all
sailors, of course, being made to go to leeward.
Trunnell grew to be confidential, and we often discoursed upon many
subjects during the hours after supper; for there was little time to turn
in when not on dog-watch, and the skipper allowed me aft with much more
freedom than many second mates get. He seldom ventured to join in the
conversations, except when discussing shore topics, for his ignorance of
things nautical was becoming more and more apparent to me every day, and
he saw it. I wondered vaguely how he ever managed to get command of the
ship, and set the reason down to the fact that the agents were glad
enough to get any one to take her out. He, however, checked up Trunnell's
sights every day and commented upon their accuracy with much freedom,
finding fault often, and cautioning him to be more careful in the future.
This somewhat perplexed the mate, as he always made his reckoning by rule
of thumb, and could no more change his method than work out a problem in
trigonometry. The third mate, on the other hand, was quite shy. I noticed
what I had failed to note before, and that was the peculiar feminine tone
of his voice and manner. He never swung his hands or lounged along the
deck like a man used to the sea, and as the regulations call for at least
two years' sea experience certified to by some reputable skipper before a
mate's certificate is issued, this struck me as strange. Besides, he
walked with a short mincing step that failed to swing his rather broad
hips, and his knees were well set back at each stride, that went to show
more conclusively than anything else that he was not used to a heaving
deck. An old sailor, or a young one either, for that matter, will bend
his knees to catch the roll and not try to walk like a soldier.
One evening after we had been out about a week, Trunnell and I
happened to be standing aft near the taffrail looking up at a royal
preventer stay.
"D'ye know what th' old man called this cleat?" asked Trunnell, pointing
to where it had been made fast.
"No," said I. "What did he call it?"
"A timber noggin."
"Well, that don't prove there is anything wrong with him, does it?"
I queried.
"Either that or the timber noggins has changed summat in character since
I seen them last," said Trunnell. "What in Davy Jones would a skipper of
a ship call a cleat a timber noggin for unless he didn't know no better?"
"A man might or might not have many reasons for calling a cleat a timber
noggin besides that of not knowing any better than to do so," I
responded. "For instance--"
But Trunnell cut me short. "No, Mr. Rolling, there ain't no use
disguising the fact any more, this skipper don't know nothin' about a
ship. You'll find that out before we get to the west'ard o' the Agullas.
Mind ye, I ain't making no criticism o' the old man. I never does that to
no superior officer, but when a man tells me to do the things he does, it
stands to reason that we've got an old man aboard here who's been in a
ship for the first time as officer."