OUTWARD BOUND
The boys scarcely could wait to finish their breakfasts, so anxious were
they to see the owner of the _Hector_. Arriving in New Bedford across
the harbor, they at once hurried to Mr. Nye’s office, only to find that
he was not in and was not expected for an hour.
“Let’s go over to the museum,” suggested Tom, and the two boys hurried
downstairs, turned into a waterfront street, and a few moments later,
reached the Old Dartmouth Historical Society with its wonderful whalers’
museum.
Here they always found plenty to interest them and the time passed
quickly as they studied the fascinating exhibits of whaling weapons and
utensils, old prints, log books, and, best of all the half-size model of
a New Bedford whaling ship complete in every detail.
As they were about to leave the building and passed by the office, they
noticed the genial curator talking with a man whose back was towards
them.
“Hello, boys!” called the curator, “I understand you’re about to lose
your ship. Where are you off to now?”
“Yes,” replied Tom, “but we’re going to try and go on her. We’re going
to see Mr. Nye now and ask him if we can.”
The curator laughed.
“Want to turn real whalemen, eh? How about your parents’ consent?”
“Oh, they’ve consented,” replied Jim, “that is, Tom’s father said he
could go if Mr. Nye and the captain were willing and if Cap’n Pem went
as mate and my folks said they’d agree to that, too.”
“Well, well!” chuckled their friend. “So now you’re going to ask Nye and
try to get him to ship old Pem just to help you, I suppose! Well, there
are worse mates than he’d make. Come in here, boys, I want you to meet
an old friend of mine.”
As they entered the office the stranger turned and the boys saw he was a
clean-shaven, leather-faced old man with a merry twinkle in his keen,
blue eyes.
“Captain,” said the curator, “here are a couple of boys who want to ship
on the _Hector_, Jimmy Lathrop and Tom Chester. You know Chester, the
ship chandlery and hardware man, Tom’s father. How do you think they’ll
do for whalemen? Boys, this is Captain Edwards of the _Hector_.”
Shaking hands cordially, the old whaleman considered for a moment.
“Hmm,” he said at last, “what’s your rating, boys, A. B.’s, boat
steerers, coopers, cooks, cabin boys, navigators or just ordinary deck
hands?”
The boys laughed.
“I don’t know,” admitted Jim. “Anything, if we can go, except cooks or
coopers or boat steerers.”
“Then you’ve had previous experience, eh?” asked the captain striving to
maintain a grave face. “What ships have you been on?”
“The _Hector_,” promptly replied Tom, with a grin. “We’ve been
everything on her from stowaways to captain.”
Captain Edwards burst into a hearty laugh. “So you’re some of the
youngsters that have been using my ship for a playground, eh?” he
exclaimed. “And now you’d like to take a real try at the game. And your
dads said you could if I’d take old Pem for mate, eh?”
“Yes, sir,” said Tom, “and father said that was just about as likely as
for the _Hector_ to bring back a load of ambergris.”
The captain and the curator burst into hearty laughter.
“That’s pretty good!” declared the old skipper at last. “But stranger
things _have_ happened to whalemen, boys. Many a ship’s brought home a
mighty good cargo of ambergris and I’ve sailed with a wooden-legged
captain, let alone a mate.”
“These boys can navigate,” put in the curator. “Cap’n Pem’s taught them
nearly all there is to know about handling a ship, except going to sea.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed the captain with new interest. “Now, boys, let me
ask you some questions.”
For the next half hour Captain Edwards plied the boys with queries on
seamanship, navigation, ropes and rigging, handling sails, nautical and
whalemen’s terms, and in fact, everything he could think of. Then,
banging his fist on his knee, he exclaimed, “Why, hang it all, Frank!
These two kids could get second officer’s tickets to-morrow, if they
were old enough. Boys, come along over to Nye’s office.”
“Gosh! I’d forgotten about seeing him,” cried Tom as he and Jim rose and
hurried out with the captain.
Arrived at the ship owner’s office, the boys quickly told Mr. Nye of
their desire to go on the _Hector_ and repeated the conditions on which
their parents had consented. Then, when they had finished, the captain
drew the owner to one side and conversed in low tones with him for a few
moments.
“Well, boys,” said the _Hector’s_ owner, resuming his seat, “I have no
objection if Captain Edwards hasn’t, and he tells me he’d be glad to
take you, as you might be useful. You see, it’s mighty difficult to get
a crew of any sort now and navigators are scarce as hens’ teeth. Of
course, he wouldn’t count on you as full-fledged officers; but he thinks
you’d be more useful than ornamental and that two husky, wide-awake boys
who really know the old _Hector_ from stem to stern would be worth their
keep—might help in breaking in the green hands, you know. Of course,
you’d find it a mighty rough life—not all beer and skittles by any
means—and a dirty job too. But I was younger than either of you when I
first went on a cruise and it did me a pile of good—made a man of me and
taught me a lot—and hard work never hurt any boy yet. Yes, as far as I’m
concerned, and Captain Edwards too, you’re more than welcome on the
_Hector_; but, of course, that doesn’t mean you’re going. Don’t forget
old Pem is one of the conditions, and I’ve never had a wooden-legged
mate on one of my ships yet!”
“Oh, darn!” exclaimed Jim, “I think they might let us go, anyway.”
“I’m not going to be discouraged yet,” declared Tom. “I’ll bet I can
tease dad into letting us go, even if Cap’n Pem isn’t mate.”
But despite his statement, the two boys felt downhearted and discouraged
the rest of the day, for it was even worse to have the captain’s and the
owner’s consent and still be unable to go on the cruise than it would
have been had their parents refused to listen to their pleas in the
first place. And that evening, when Tom endeavored to wheedle his father
into withdrawing the conditions he had made, he found him obdurate.
While he was still arguing, Jim and Mr. Lathrop called and the latter
declared that he, too, would stick to his original conditions. Very
disconsolate were the two boys as they sat down to dinner, for they
realized now that their cause was hopeless, that in giving their
conditional consent their parents had known they were perfectly safe.
But presently their spirits began to revive and they were chatting and
laughing as gaily as ever. Then, when the meal was nearly over, the door
bell rang and the servant announced: “A gentleman to see you, Master
Tom. He said to tell you he was mate of the _Hector_. He’s waiting in
the library.”
“Mate of the _Hector_!” exclaimed Tom in puzzled tones, “I wonder what
he wants. I didn’t know Captain Edwards had a mate yet. I’ll bet he’s
come to tell us he’s mate just so we’ll know there’s no chance. Gee! I
think Mr. Nye might have taken Cap’n Pem just for our sakes.”
“Nye’s sending the bark after oil, not to please you boys,” Mr. Chester
reminded him as he left the room.
As Tom reached the library and glanced within, he started as if he had
seen a ghost and stood speechless, staring with unbelieving eyes at the
figure seated in the big Morris chair.
“Reckon I did surprise ye!” chuckled Cap’n Pem. “Jest signed on fer mate
o’ the ol’ _Hector_ an’ kinder thought——”
What he was about to say was drowned in the wild yell Tom let out as,
turning, he dashed down the hall.
“Jim!” he shouted as he burst open the dining room door. “Jim! We’re
going! It’s Cap’n Pem and he’s mate of the _Hector_! Hurrah! Hurrah!”
Leaping from his chair, Jim tore into the library with his friend, both
yelling like Indians and prancing about the old sailor until he thought
they had gone stark, staring mad.
“Avast there! Lay off!” he cried. “What in the name o’ tarnation’s the
matter with ye?”
Presently in disjointed sentences, the two boys managed to explain the
cause of their excitement.
“I’ll be blowed!” exclaimed the old whaleman. “So that’s how the land
lays, eh? So you’re the two third mates ol’ man Edwards was talkin’
erbout. Wondered what in Sam Hill he wanted two fer. Well, well, so
we’re goin’ fer to be shipmates, eh? ’Spect Nye wuz jest jollyin’ of ye
all the time. He knowed I wuz a-goin’ last night. Cap’n Edwards wuz over
ter see me an’ wanted fer me ter go, but I wuz a leedle mite skittish
’bout this timber leg. Then, this arternoon, he come over ter see the
ol’ _Hector_ an’ he sez ter me, Pem, he sez, ye’ve jes’ gotter sign on.
’Lessen ye do I won’t have no other nav’gator erlong. Can’t git ’em
’lessen you come too. So I jes’ signed on then an thar.”
“Hurrah for Captain Edwards!” shouted the boys. Then, as their parents
entered the room, Tom cried: “Now what do you say, father? I’ll _bet_
you’re surprised. Isn’t it bully, though!”
Mr. Lathrop coughed and covered his mouth with his handkerchief and Mr.
Chester strove to conceal a smile and winked at his friend.
“Well, wonders will never cease,” he replied. “Luck seems to be with
you, boys. I hope it will last through the cruise. And it will be some
cruise, eh, Lathrop? Mate with a wooden leg, two boys for third mates,
an eighty-year-old ship and Heaven alone knows what kind of a crew!”
“Don’t ye fear erbout the crew, Mr. Chester,” spoke up Cap’n Pem.
“That’s my job an’ my name ain’t Pem Potter if I don’ git ’em, if I have
ter bust open the jail or the poor house an’ take the critters inside.”
The others laughed. “I shouldn’t be surprised if they’d prove better
than anything you’ll get elsewhere,” chuckled Mr. Lathrop. “The war’s
taken every able-bodied man there is. You won’t find the crowd of park
loafers and bums that used to form the bulk of whaling crews.”
“Who said anythin’ erbout able-bodied men?” exclaimed the old seaman.
“Jes’ so long’s they’ve got two feet an’ two han’s it’s all I ask. Give
me three months at sea with ’em an’ I’ll make whalemen outer anything
what’s human. But I reckon I’ll be h’istin’ to’sails an’ gettin’ under
way. I gotter be mighty busy from now on.”
Bidding them all good night, and with a parting injunction to the boys
to report at the owner’s office and sign articles in the morning, old
Cap’n Pem left the house and went stumping down the street on his wooden
leg and so overjoyed at the prospect of being once more on a cruise that
he broke into a rollicking old chantey.
Now who d’ ye think’s the chief mate o’ her?
Blow, boys, blow!
A big mu-latter come from Antigua!
Blow, my bully boys, blow!
Long after he was out of sight, the boys could hear the chorus wafted to
them on the soft night breeze.
* * * * *
The next few weeks were busy ones for the two boys. They signed on as
members of the _Hector’s_ crew, although there were difficulties to be
overcome in doing that, for they were too young to secure navigators’
licenses. Finally it was arranged that they should be rated as “boys”
and as such were entitled to “lays” of 1/100 of the ship’s catch or, in
other words, one barrel of oil out of every hundred, for whalers never
work for wages, and when all this was attended to, the boys felt like
real whalemen. Then, at Captain Edward’s suggestion, they worked daily
at the _Hector_, sometimes on the rigging, and still oftener looking
after the gear of the whale boats and the supplies which were being
rapidly gathered together in readiness for the day when the bark would
be ready for sea. It was a never-ending wonder to the boys to find what
an enormous quantity of stores were required. As Tom put it, there was
enough to supply a city and they could not believe that such a vast
amount was necessary. Indeed, when the boys came to total up the lists
of stores which they checked off, they discovered there were over seven
hundred different articles and that the total cost was nearly one
hundred thousand dollars. It seemed a stupendous undertaking to stow all
this away and the ship itself appeared a hopeless tangle of rigging,
fittings and odds and ends. But gradually order came from chaos. The
_Hector_ was spick and span with a fresh coat of paint; her tall,
tapering spars rose high above the docks; her massive yards were in
place; her rigging taut and well tarred; and, at last one day, a fussy,
little tug came hurrying across the harbor, and with a huge, new flag
flying from her mizzen gaff and strings of bright bunting everywhere,
the stout old ship was towed from her berth and moored in the stream. To
the elated boys, standing upon the clean, smooth decks it seemed
impossible that the stately vessel whose shining masts and spars towered
above their heads could be the same weather-beaten, dingy, dilapidated
hulk which for so long had lain upon the mud flat and had formed a
playground for them and their comrades.
Soon lighters were alongside; the countless stores were rapidly put
aboard; the immense sails were bent to the yards; and all was ready for
the voyage, save the crew.
Old Cap’n Pem had had his hands full getting enough men together to man
the ship and do the work when they reached the hunting grounds, and he
vowed, that never in all his experience had he seen such a
good-for-nothing, worthless lot of human derelicts as the sharks had
offered him.
“Bet ye, ye’ll see some fun when we git out o’ soundin’s an’ start to
break ’em in,” he declared. “Mebbe ye boys think as I’m a mighty
easy-goin’ ol’ cuss but I reckon ye’ll think I’m a snortin’, tough ol’
bucko mate when we git to sea. Treat ’em rough’s the only way ter handle
of ’em. Ain’t nary one of ’em thet knows a marlin spike from a
scuttle-butt I’ll bet.”
“Why, aren’t they sailors?” asked Jim.
“Sailors!” cried the old whaleman. “Sailors! Well I’ll be scuttled!
Course they ain’t sailors. Why, bless your hearts, no whaler cap’n’d
ship sailors if they paid their passage. Jest scum they be—gutter
sweepin’s an’ bums on’y worse ’an usual ’cause o’ the war.”
“But if you don’t have sailors, how can you sail the bark?” asked Tom.
“And why don’t you want sailors anyway?”
“The mates an’ the four boat steerers sail the ship,” explained the old
fellow. “Thought I told ye all ’bout sech things long ago. An’ the
cooper an’ steward lend a han’, providin’ they’re needed, an’ arter
we’ve broke in the greenies they’ll han’le the ol’ bark. Why don’ we
want sailor men? ’Cause sailors ain’t any use ’board a whaler. Fust
place they growl an’ cause trouble, secon’ place they desart at the fust
po’t an’ third place they won’t work fer lays. Now I gotter be a-gittin’
along an’ lookin’ arter things. The ol’ man’s given orders we’re a
sailin’ at ebb tide to-morrer, so ye boys be on han’ before ten.”
Despite their eagerness to go on the cruise, and their excitement, still
the boys felt a touch of homesickness and a lump in their throats as
they bade good-by to their parents and their boy friends, the following
morning, and realized that they would not see the quiet, shady streets
of Fair Haven or their own comfortable homes for twelve long months or
more.
When they reached the _Hector_ they found Captain Edwards, the second
mate, the four boat steerers, the cooper, the cook and a carpenter on
board. The second mate, or officer, was a long, lanky, down-east fellow
with a ghastly scar across one cheek and which they learned had been
received when his ship had been sunk by a German U-boat a few months
previously. The boat steerers were all Portuguese from the Cape Verde
Islands; the cook was a coal-black negro from Jamaica; the cooper was a
blond-headed Swede and the carpenter a tiny, dried-up, white-haired
Irishman. Soon after the boys were aboard, two boats approached loaded
with men and with old Cap’n Pem in the first. Running alongside, the men
scrambled and clambered onto the deck and as they stared stupidly about,
the boys thought they never had seen such a rough, unkempt,
disreputable-looking lot of men. Sixteen in all, there was not one of
their number who was not ragged and dirty. They were of every age, color
and nationality from a tousled-headed, pop-eyed “boy” to a gray-headed,
red-nosed, old rascal fully sixty, and several were negroes. But they
had scant time to look about at their new surroundings for scarcely was
the last one on board, before the second mate began to give orders,
hustling the new hands about, and putting them to work, and while some
were inclined to loaf and others were surly and answered back, the
majority fell to and evidently did their best to follow instructions,
although it was plain that the mate’s words held little meaning for
them. Then the capstan was manned, a tug drew alongside and, as the boat
steerers joined the men at the handspikes and walked the heavy cable in,
their voices broke into the old, old chantey of Sally Brown:
“Oh, Sally Brown of New York City,
Aye Sally,—Sally Brown,
Of pretty Sal this is a ditty,
I’ll spend my money on Sally Brown!”
So sang the men as the great anchor rose slowly to the catheads, and a
moment later, the tug’s propeller churned the water and the boys saw the
docks and buildings of New Bedford slipping slowly astern. The crowd on
the piers and moored ships shouted and waved hats and handkerchiefs. The
tug gave a farewell toot and the boys’ voyage had begun.