A TRAMP OF THE SEAS
Immediately Henry made his way to the A captain’s cabin again. He
handed a copy of the despatch to the commander.
“Thank you,” said Captain Hardwick. Glancing at the message, he
muttered his approval. Just then the chief engineer, whom the
commander had summoned, came into the cabin.
“Mr. Farley,” said the commander, “there’s a tramp a little farther
up the coast that just sent us a wireless for a doctor. Mate’s sick.
We’ve told her where to meet us. It will take several hours to reach
her. We’re making about twelve knots, aren’t we? Suppose you push
her up to top speed, fifteen knots. We can slow down again after the
doctor has seen the sick man.”
“Very well, sir.” And the chief engineer withdrew.
At once the captain went to the chart-room. Lieutenant Hill was on
duty. Together they figured out the new course and gave the
direction to the helmsman, who brought the ship about. Meantime the
vibration of the ship became more noticeable, and the grinding noise
of her machinery grew louder. She began to forge ahead faster and
faster. Soon she was throwing up a big bow wave and plunging through
the seas at a fast pace.
Although the wind had abated and the seas were greatly lessened, the
_Iroquois_ rolled more than she had rolled before, even when the
wind was at its worst. That was because the ship was now running
almost in the trough of the seas, whereas during the trip up the
Gulf Stream both wind and seas had been almost dead astern.
For a time Henry stood on the bridge, watching the clear and
sparkling sea. The quartermaster, Mr. Andrews, was also on watch,
with the lieutenant. Henry was much drawn to the quartermaster. He
was a young fellow not many years older than Henry himself. He had a
fine fresh face, and his eye was alight with ambition. His every
movement suggested strength and energy and determination. As the
ship’s bell struck the hour, he said: “I must look at the log. Would
you like to come with me?”
“Sure,” said Henry, and the two slipped down the ladder to the deck
and skipped aft. Henry was getting his sea-legs fast.
Attached to the taffrail Henry saw the log the captain had described
to him. It appeared to be merely a long piece of heavy twine,
trailing behind the ship. But it was revolving fast. Henry looked
over the rail at the little dials that registered the revolutions.
“We’re going a bit faster,” said the quartermaster.
“Yes,” replied Henry. “The captain has put her under full speed.”
And as they returned to the bridge Henry asked, “How do you like
life at sea?”
“First rate,” said the quartermaster. “There is always something to
do, the pay is good, and there are opportunities for advancement.
The captain is teaching me navigation, and some day I may be able to
qualify as an officer in the merchant marine. He’s a grand man, is
the captain.”
“I believe it,” said Henry. “He sure has been fine to me.”
“He is to everybody who acts right. But, oh boy! You want to look
out for him if you don’t do what’s right.”
The ship rushed on. After a long time the quartermaster said, “Do
you know where we are to meet that tramp?”
“Yes,” said Henry. “At sixty-seven west, forty-two north.”
The two stepped into the chart-room and looked at the marks on the
chart. “We ought to sight her within a few minutes,” remarked the
quartermaster.
“May I go up in the crow’s-nest and look for her?” asked Henry.
“Certainly, but be careful. If you aren’t used to climbing aloft,
you might get a nasty fall. Take these glasses, but be careful of
them.”
Henry slipped the binoculars into the pocket of his coat, buttoned
that garment tight, and started up the forward mast. He soon found
that the quartermaster had told the truth. The rolling of the ship
had seemed bad enough on the deck, but up the mast it seemed a
hundred times worse, and the higher Henry went, the more violently
the ship seemed to roll.
In a sense Henry was right. His position was now like that of an
inverted pendulum. When the ship rolled to one side, he was carried
far out by the mast, until at times his body hung over the open sea,
beyond the side of the ship. Then as the ship righted and rolled in
the opposite direction, Henry’s body shot through a wide arc and out
over the other side of the vessel, for the ship was rolling at times
at an angle of more than twenty degrees. At the first big roll Henry
was almost frightened. He felt himself going, going, going, and he
was sure the mast was going to give way and go on over with him,
pitching him into the briny deep. But just when he was sure the
_Iroquois_ must be turning over, she righted herself with a snap
like the lash of a whip. Henry’s grasp was almost broken. He could
hardly keep his feet on the ladder-rungs, either. Tightening his
grip, he mounted upward as fast as he could, and presently found
himself safe in the crow’s-nest. He sighed with relief. As long as
the mast stood, he knew he was safe here.
Intently now he swept the northern horizon with his glasses. Soon he
noticed a ship, but a moment’s study showed him it was heading out
to sea. Astern of her he soon saw another vessel. That one, too, was
outward bound. But when he brought his glasses farther around toward
land, he espied a steamer heading inward. He studied her intently.
He thought she was sailing in a long diagonal, as though to cross
the course of the _Iroquois_. For fifteen minutes he watched her. By
this time both ships had traveled some miles, and the strange ship
was much nearer. Her great bow wave showed she was being driven
hard. There could be no doubt as to her course being diagonal with
their own. The men on the bridge could now see her, too, so Henry
pocketed his glasses and carefully climbed down again.
“I guess that’s the _Viking_,” said the quartermaster. Henry was
surprised to find how little could yet be seen of the ship from the
bridge.
“Couldn’t we find out by wireless?” asked Henry.
“Sure. We can ask Sparks to give ’em a call.”
“I’ll do it,” said Henry, and he skipped down to the wireless shack.
He never overlooked any opportunity to see the wireless man work his
key.
At Henry’s request, the wireless man gladly agreed to call the
_Viking_. He threw over his switch and pressed the key, and Henry
sat fascinated as he saw the bright flashes leap and crackle with
the pressure of the key.
“WXY—WXY—WXY—de—NTE,” called the operator.
Promptly came the response, “NTE—NTE—NTE—de—WXY—K.”
“Can you see anything of the _Iroquois_?” asked Mr. Sharp. “We see a
big freighter off our starboard bow, but don’t know if she is the
_Viking_. Please give us your bearing on _Iroquois_. Will stand by
for reply.”
Presently came an answer. “Can see you plainly. Bearing is south
three-quarters east. You are only four or five miles distant.”
“That’s the _Viking_ over there, without question,” said the
wireless man as he shut off his power. “Her bearing from us is
exactly the opposite of our bearing from her. That would make it
north three-quarters west. Take a look at the chart and you will see
how it is.”
Henry ran to the chart-room and laid a ruler along the course
indicated. It pointed straight from the position of the _Iroquois_
in the direction of the oncoming tramp. Then Henry stepped to the
bridge.
Rapidly now the two steamships drew nearer, converging toward a
common point. As they approached closely enough for each to examine
the other well, the sailors on the _Iroquois_ crowded to the forward
rail, while a row of sailors could be seen lining the side of the
_Viking_. The latter was a large, clumsy-looking cargo-boat, and was
quite evidently not in the best of condition. She needed paint
badly. Great rusty blotches marred her dark sides. Her rigging
looked rickety. Huge derricks rose fore and after, and the
derrick-booms were lashed horizontally, producing a peculiar
appearance. At a little distance she looked as though she were
equipped with elevated plank-walks. Her decks were littered with
cargo. When the two vessels had come close to each other, both were
stopped, and preparations were made to put the doctor aboard the
_Viking_.
A small boat was lowered on the leeward side of the _Iroquois_, and
the doctor and the crew stepped into her as she dropped level with
the rail. The doctor carried his medicine case. Suddenly Henry
turned to the captain, who was watching operations. “Might I go
along?” he asked.
“Do you want a passenger, Mr. Hill?” asked the captain, for the
lieutenant was in charge of the boat. “Mr. Harper here would like to
go.”
“Jump in,” was the lieutenant’s reply, and Henry scrambled over the
rail into the waiting boat.
In another moment the boat was far on its way to the _Viking_, the
men bending vigorously to their oars. How she did rise and fall. But
Henry was not now alarmed by the motion, as he might have been
earlier. A ladder was lowered from the _Viking_ as the small boat
drew near. The little craft was laid skillfully alongside, the
sailors made fast with their boat-hooks, and the doctor scrambled up
the ladder, followed by the lieutenant and Henry. Some of the
sailors also came aboard.
The captain welcomed the lieutenant and the doctor warmly, and then
led the way to the officers’ quarters. The officers were plainly
foreign. They were bearded and ruddy, with light hair, and with the
strong, honest countenances so typical of Scandinavians. Henry knew
without being told that they came from Norway or Sweden. They were
decently dressed in the customary uniforms of sea officers.
Curious to know how a merchantman’s cabin compared with that of the
_Iroquois_, Henry followed the doctor. He found the officers’
quarters very comfortable, but not nearly so elaborate as those on
the Coast Guard cutter. The mate was in his bunk, and was quite
evidently very ill. He was pale and wasted and he tossed feebly on
his mattress, muttering unintelligibly in his native tongue. Plainly
he was out of his head. The room smelled close and foul, with that
sour, offensive odor so peculiar to sick rooms. It was more than
Henry could stand, and he retreated to the deck.
With interest he examined the big freighter. It was the first time
he had ever been aboard such a vessel. She was a ship of good
length, built for capacity rather than speed, and her lines were as
ample as those of a Dutch hausfrau. They made the boat appear
clumsy. She was cut low amidship, her forecastle and afterdecks
being built at a higher level. The long stretch of clear deck,
unbroken by superstructure, made the craft seem longer than she
really was. Fore and aft rose the enormous cargo-derricks, which had
been so conspicuous from a distance. And Henry was interested to see
how the derrick-booms were lashed in their places. The cargo hatches
were mostly battened down.
But Henry had little interest in anything else, once he had a good
look at the crew, grouped along the forward rail. When he saw them,
it seemed as though he had somehow been magically transported of a
sudden to a strange and foreign land. Never had he seen such a
queer-looking lot of men as these sailors. There were Chinese,
with their yellow, sickly-looking skins and dark crowns and
curious-shaped eyes: and Lascars, swarthy and stolid and mysterious
looking: and little, black-eyed Japanese, with their straight,
coarse black hair and inscrutable faces. And the sounds—the grunts
and curious guttural mumblings—that arose among these Oriental
sailors were as odd and unintelligible as the men themselves
appeared to be. Henry wondered how white men could possibly bring
themselves to live with such seemingly uncongenial companions in
such an isolated and lonely place as an ocean-going steamer. Much as
he thought he would like life at sea, he was certain he would not
like it if he had to live under such conditions.
When Henry’s eye caught sight of the wireless antennæ, he decided at
once to visit the wireless man. Following the lead-in wire with his
eye, he located the wireless shack, and promptly knocked at the
door. He was both surprised and pleased when the door was thrown
open and a cheery voice said, in good English, though with a foreign
accent: “Good-day, sir. I am glad to see you. Won’t you come in?”
“Thank you,” said Henry. “I will be glad to come in. I am interested
in wireless.”
“Are you an operator yourself?” asked the _Viking’s_ wireless man.
“Not exactly. I was an operator at one of the United States stations
for a little while. I am trying to get a place as operator in the
Coast Guard. I’m taking a trip with the _Iroquois_ now. It’s my
first trip at sea.”
“Then you can read and send readily.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Would you like to say ‘How do you do’ to the operator on the
_Iroquois_?”
“Be tickled to death,” said Henry.
“Very well. Do it,” said the operator.
Henry sat down at the _Viking’s_ key and threw on the power.
“NTE—NTE—NTE—de—WXY,” he flashed. And, almost before he had taken
his finger from the key, there came crackling in his ear the reply:
“WXY—WXY—WXY—de—NTE—K.”
Even had he been a thousand miles away, Henry would not have needed
to inquire who was sending. There could be no mistaking the smooth,
even, rapid telegraphing of Mr. Sharp.
“Hello, Mr. Sharp,” rapped out Henry. “This is Henry Harper. The
operator has been courteous enough to allow me to use his equipment.
The _Viking_ is a very interesting boat.”
Henry almost said she was a mighty curious old tub, but he
remembered in time that his host could read all he was sending. He
was about to add more, when he saw the lieutenant and the doctor
step on deck. So he said good-bye, thanked the operator for his
courtesy, and joined the little group from the _Iroquois_.
The more he saw of the freighter, the more he was pleased with his
own little boat. The _Viking’s_ wireless did not compare with the
equipment of the _Iroquois_, any more than the rest of the boat
compared with the cutter for comfort and looks. If there was
anything lacking to make Henry sure of the difference, he found it
when the doctor went into the forecastle, to treat a sick sailor.
Henry went, too, but he did not remain long. The frightful smell in
the crew’s quarters almost sickened him. Everything was dirty and
foul and disorderly. Henry knew that in the crew’s quarters on the
_Iroquois_, though there was not much room, and there was more or
less odor from the cook’s galley, at least everything was
scrupulously neat and spotlessly clean. All that he saw made Henry
the more certain that he had chosen wisely in planning to get into
the Coast Guard service. And when he stepped to the deck and found
himself at close quarters with the crew, he knew he had made no
mistake. Some American sailors might be “tough,” he thought, but
they were a million times more desirable as shipmates than these
unintelligible Orientals.
Henry was glad enough when the doctor at last reappeared on the deck
and prepared to return to the cutter. Good-byes were said, the
_Viking’s_ captain thanked the doctor and the lieutenant, Henry
called farewell to the wireless man, and in a minute or two the
little party from the cutter was bobbing up and down again on the
waves, on the way to the _Iroquois_. Then the small boat was
hoisted, swung inboard, and made fast. The ship’s propeller began to
revolve, the water foamed at the bow, and, swinging into her course
once more, the _Iroquois_ was soon speeding toward Boston.