ADRIFT IN THE STORM
Alec could not see into the future, this time at least, and he went
about the work of preparing the _Rebecca_ with a merry heart. The ship
looked very fine, indeed, as she lay at the captain's wharf, all spick
and span, and proudly displaying her new coat of paint. She was
considerably larger than the _Bertha B_. Her masts were stepped at a
rakish angle. Her rigging was neat. Her lines were good. For a boat of
her size she carried an unusual amount of sail. Her hold had been
emptied of all movable tackle and her decks cleared before she had been
hauled out for repairs. Nothing had yet been replaced. And in order that
the party might have all the room possible, nothing was to be replaced
until after the cruise. Even the anchor and the chains had been removed.
Inside, the cabin was perfectly bare. But the woodwork had all been
freshly painted or varnished, and the _Rebecca_ needed only a few
furnishings to make her very attractive, indeed.
While the shipper and Alec were making a hasty examination of the boat,
a truck load of furnishings arrived from the shipper's home, and the two
at once started to carry the things aboard. There were cushions, and
bedding, and chairs, and rugs, and blankets, and wraps, and a host of
other things to make the boat comfortable. And there were great ticks to
be filled with straw for the men to sleep on in the hold, while Elsa and
her mother occupied the cabin.
When all the things were aboard and the truck had gone away, Captain
Rumford turned his attention to the ship's gear. He was too careful a
sailor not to make sure that everything was right before he set sail. He
found everything in good condition. Only the anchor and the anchor chain
were missing. The chains had been laid away when the _Rebecca_ was
hauled out. It was neither easy nor convenient to get them now. The
captain studied the matter for a moment. "About all we'll need an anchor
for," he muttered to himself, "is to keep us from drifting at night.
I'll just take along that little light anchor in the storeroom. We can
bend an old cable on it and it will answer our purpose. If a storm
should come up, we'll run into a harbor. Now I'll go see about that
little anchor."
The captain grabbed an oyster truck and hurried to his storeroom to get
it. A moment later he returned, trundling the anchor and an old hawser
before him. Alec helped lift them aboard. Then, while the captain was
bending on the hawser, Alec busied himself in the cabin, putting the
things there in some sort of order.
Presently came a load of provisions. Alec carried to the storeroom bag
after bag. It seemed to him he had brought enough stuff aboard to feed
a ship's crew for a year. The provisions he stowed away in the cupboards
in the cabin. When Alec was done, the captain joined him and inspected
the cupboards.
"Looks to me as though we're ready to cast off the minute we get our
crew aboard," he said. "She seems fit to contend with almost
anything--especially hunger."
"I can't think of another thing we could wish for," said Alec.
"Unless it was some music," said the captain wistfully. "It never seemed
right to me to go on a party like this without some music. I'd have
given a lot if Elsa had learned to play the piano, but she just
wouldn't. Hasn't a particle of love for music. Funny, isn't it, when I
like it so much. She likes to dance, too. You'd think she'd have some
liking for music, wouldn't you?"
Alec made no response. But when the shipper drove away in his car, Alec
ran to the _Osprey_ and quickly uncoupled his wireless outfit. "It won't
be much," he said, "but it's all I can do for the captain. He can have
music at night now, anyway. I'll try to surprise him."
He fastened his instruments in the cabin of the _Rebecca_, very much as
he had had them in the _Bertha B_. With two sticks he made an aerial
which he placed flat on the roof of the cabin. The sticks were fastened
together like a Maltese cross, and around their ends Alec wrapped strand
after strand of wire, bringing the end into the cabin through the tiny
window just above his instruments. He made a ground by twisting his wire
to a little length of chain, which he fastened over the side so that its
end hung in the water. Then he tested his instruments and found they
were in order. As far as Alec could see, everything was now in readiness
for the cruise.
Doubly delightful to Alec was the little trip that began next morning
because of the weeks of hard labor that had preceded it. Just as his
work had palled on him because he had been unable to combine any
amusement with it, so amusements pall when they are not interspersed
with toil. Now Alec's appetite for pleasure was more than whetted. He
was ravenous for enjoyment. And being so, he enjoyed everything. The sun
that shone so bright seemed merry rather than hot to Alec. The winds
that circled about the mastheads seemed to Alec as playful as squirrels
frisking in a tree top. The waves seemed to laugh in glee as the wind
drove them before it, showing their white teeth in gleaming smiles as
they flashed in the sun. White teeth they were, too, that could rend as
well as gleam in the sun. Well enough Alec knew that fact. Before many
days he was to know it better still. But now he had no thought of care.
He had put work aside. He was like a small boy on a lark. Usually rather
staid and sober, now he kept the party laughing at his antics. And they
were ready enough to laugh with him. For this was a real pleasure
party. For the time being, care had been thrown to the winds.
But if the mere joy of being alive and free and with friends could make
Alec happy, the fact that he was seeing new things and learning new
things gave him added enjoyment. For never, for a single instant, did
Alec forget to pick up bits of knowledge that came his way. For well
nigh a year, now, he had lived on the waves. He had sailed the Delaware
in sunshine and in storm, when the weather was blazing hot and when ice
formed on the deck. And yet his knowledge of this great body of water
was limited wholly to what he had seen in the narrow compass of the
oyster-beds, or to what he had read. Now he was to see with his own eyes
the wonders of the deep. For as yet Alec had hardly been out of sight of
land, and he had never seen the ocean.
Alec would not have been himself had he not remembered to bring along a
map. And it was the largest map of the Bay he could lay his hands on. He
saw at a glance that in contour the Bay was roughly pear-shaped. On
either shore little excrescences, like the warts and blemishes that come
on real pears, stuck out here and there, to mar the perfect pear-shaped
outline of the Bay. The largest of these was Egg Island Point, off which
lay the light he knew so well. Miles farther up the coast the _Rebecca_
passed Ben Davis Point. And still farther along stretched a wide cove,
with the Cohansey River pouring into it, and a little, squat lighthouse
standing on a point, to guide the mariner into the stream.
Other points of interest the party visited, too--little summer resorts,
like Fortescue, and lighthouses, where they were welcomed in a way that
left no doubt of their hosts' sincerity; for callers are few at a
lighthouse, and usually they are welcomed accordingly.
In the evenings, the party ran slowly before the gentle night wind, or,
anchoring far offshore to avoid mosquitoes, gave themselves up to
friendly talk and laughter--all save the captain. For him there was but
one nocturnal diversion; that was listening to the music with Alec's
wireless.
Sometimes the men went ashore and searched in the salt holes in the
marsh for crabs. Or all hands fished for them from the deck of the
_Rebecca_ lowering great chunks of white meat on strings, well weighted,
and gently raising their catch to the surface when they felt a nibbling
at the bait. Then came the fun of scooping the crabs with long-handled
dip-nets. Astonishingly often they failed to net them, too, for the wary
creatures, despite their seeming awkwardness, vanished the instant they
came to the surface. Great, gray-green things they were, with
savage-looking pincers that could crush a finger severely if they got
hold of one. And although he had previously caught crabs, Alec could
hardly accustom himself to their color, so long had he known only the
cooked crab of inland restaurants, which had turned red in boiling.
Sometimes they fished for weakfish, using pieces of crab meat for bait.
Beautiful, big fish they caught, too. And sometimes they got sea-bass
and flounders. And as often as not, they pulled in the troublesome
toadfish, which Alec came to detest as much as the sailors on the
oyster-boats did.
Day followed day in unbroken pleasure. Now they were here, now there.
When Alec told the shipper that he had never seen the ocean, the shipper
said he would head for the sea at once. Alec could have a good look at
it, and then the party must head for home. Playtime was about ended.
But it was one thing to say they would go to the sea and another thing
to get there. The flood-tide held them back. The wind was hardly more
than stirring. So fierce was the sun, so intense the heat on deck, that
both Elsa and her mother retreated to the cabin. The captain sought what
coolness he could find in the uncertain shade of a sail. Big Jim Hawley
stood at the wheel, silent, imperturbable. Alec flung himself on the
deck near him. From time to time Hawley studied the sky. Great cumulus
clouds were forming near the horizon.
"We'll have a storm to-night," he said to Alec.
"The sooner the better," said Alec. "Anything to break this heat wave."
They rolled slowly on. The water gently heaved and the _Rebecca_ swayed
with it. There was barely wind enough to keep the sails from flapping.
"We'll never reach the Capes in daylight at this rate," said Hawley.
"The days are getting much shorter."
"That's so," said Alec. "Yesterday was the twenty-first of August. It's
just two months since the longest day and the days are shortening fast."
Slowly the _Rebecca_ forged ahead. Even the cool breath of the water
could scarcely make the sun's heat endurable. Under the fierce rays the
smell of paint became almost overpowering. The tar on ropes and rigging
almost melted and ran. The fleecy clouds along the horizon bulked larger
and larger. Slowly they rose toward the zenith. Late afternoon came. The
ship was still far from the Capes. Captain Rumford studied the clouds
carefully.
"We'll pull in behind the breakwater when we get there, Jim," he said
quietly. "I think that storm will be a rip snorter. We might as well be
on the safe side."
They went on. Gradually the sun's rays grew feebler. Gusts of vapor were
hurtling across the sky, curtaining the fiery beams. The sky turned a
peculiar greenish-copper color. The thunder-heads mounted ever higher.
Then the sun was shut from sight. It grew dusk. Darkness came, as sudden
as the dropping of a curtain. Afar off, flashes of lightning rent the
clouds. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. The wind died away.
It grew calm as midnight. The _Rebecca_ rolled idly, her sheets
flapping. The men got into their oilskins.
"Better shorten sail," said the shipper.
They ran to the halyards. Down came the great canvases. Nimbly they
fastened the reef-points and made all as snug as possible.
"Now let her blow," said the shipper. "The more wind, the faster we go.
We'll reach the breakwater and heave to. I kind of wish we had a heavier
anchor, though."
None too soon had the _Rebecca_ shortened sail. Afar off an ominous
rushing sound was heard. The wind began to come in short puffs. Flash
after flash of lightning illumined the angry clouds. The roaring sound
grew louder. It came on with the speed of an express-train. Over the
waves swept a sheet of falling rain like a very wall of water. Alec
closed the companionway and jammed on the hatch covers. In another
moment the storm was upon them.
Over the waves the falling rain came hissing like steam. It fell in a
torrent. In a second the deck of the _Rebecca_ was running with water.
The sails tightened and bellied as the wind came smack! against them.
The _Rebecca_ trembled all over, then bent to the blast and began to run
through the water like a wild thing. Big Hawley stood at his wheel, as
steady as a new mast. He handled the ship as though she were a toy.
"Some thunder-storm," he smiled at Alec. "It'll blow itself out in a
little while. Nothing to worry about. It'll get us to the breakwater in
jig time."
It did, too. Long before Alec had any idea where they were, Jim brought
the _Rebecca_ up into the wind, and with her sails close-hauled, drove
her shoreward. The rain still fell heavily, but Alec could dimly make
out the curving shore-line and across it, like the string to a bow,
stretched a black streak that Alec knew must be the breakwater. The
waves were dashing on it madly. But the wind now blew almost parallel
with the long stone pile. The breakwater gave them no protection. Rather
it was a menace. If the ship should drag her anchor and drift on it, her
hull would be battered to pieces in no time. Surely this was no place to
heave to in such a storm.
"We'll just beat up along the coast, Jim," said the shipper. "It's a
windward shore. The storm will blow itself out pretty soon."
The big sailor threw his weight against the wheel. The ship heeled over
in the wind. Something cracked like a rifle-shot. The wheel flew around,
almost dropping Hawley to the deck. The rudder had broken.
"Overboard with the anchor!" called the shipper.
Hawley and Alec ran forward to execute the order. There was a splash and
the anchor rope paid out fast. Hawley gave the ship sufficient line and
went aft again to examine the steering-gear.
"Can't do anything with it," said the shipper. "The rudder itself is
broken. We'll have to ride the storm out here, then get help."
He went forward and examined the anchor line. Then he looked long and
steadily at the breakwater, which was all too close to please him.
"She's holding all right," he said. "We might as well eat while we wait
for the storm to end."
They entered the cabin and stripped off their oilskins. "Any danger?"
asked Mrs. Rumford, with anxious eyes.
"We're perfectly safe as long as our anchor doesn't drag. It's a little
light, that's all. But it's holding well. I don't think there is any
probability of harm."
Elsa and her mother got supper. From time to time the captain peered out
of the cabin window. All seemed well. They sat down to eat. It was not a
merry meal, as some of their meals had been, but the storm had not
dulled their appetites and they ate with enjoyment. Elsa and Alec even
joked a little. Hawley was silent from habit. Mrs. Rumford was a little
apprehensive. The captain was too busy with his own thoughts to talk.
Suddenly the big sailor jumped to his feet. "Feels as though we are
movin', Cap'n," he said. He pulled on his oilskins and stepped out in
the rain. In a moment he came tearing back. "We're adrift," he bellowed
down the companionway. "The anchor line has parted."
Neither the shipper nor Alec waited to don oilskins, but rushed out on
deck at once. There could be no doubt about the situation. The _Rebecca_
had swung around broadside to the wind and was wallowing in the waves.
The anchor line dangled loosely at her bow. The situation was critical.
The breakwater was not far away, though fortunately the wind did not now
blow toward it. Plainly they were drifting abreast of it, gathering
speed with every minute. And both wind and tide were driving them toward
the open sea.
"If only we had put those dredges aboard," said the shipper, "we might
hold ourselves yet. There isn't a thing on board we can put down to hold
with. If only we don't go on that stone pile, we'll be all right. This
storm can't last long, and somebody will pick us up, sure."
Driven by the wind, the tide was running like a mill-race, and the
_Rebecca_ was swept along at an unbelievable pace.
The shipper and Alec stepped into the cabin and pulled on their
oilskins, then returned to the deck.
"We don't have even a boat-hook or a setting-pole," sighed the shipper.
"I suppose they wouldn't be much use anyway, but a fellow could at least
try to fend the ship off those rocks."
Fearful, he looked toward the breakwater. Little by little the _Rebecca_
was drawing closer to it. At the same time she was rapidly driving past
the great stone pile. Would she clear it or not? There was nothing to do
but stand and wait. And the three sailors almost held their breath as
they steadied themselves by the rigging and watched. Nearer the boat
came to the rocks and nearer, and the end of the breakwater was still
rods away.
"She's going to strike," said the shipper. "She'll crash in another
minute. We'll have to lower the life-boat."
They ran aft toward the davits, then paused a single second to watch. A
great wave was lifting the _Rebecca_. Up she rose high on the crest, and
swept straight toward the breakwater.
"Get the women on deck quick," roared the shipper. "She's going to
crash."
Alec sprang for the companionway. The ship gave a lurch, but there was
no noise, no jar. An enormous wave, rushing against the breakwater, had
rebounded and swept the ship clear. The tide hurled her forward. A
moment later, by the narrowest of margins, the vessel skimmed across the
end of the breakwater, and shot into the open water beyond. For the
moment she was safe.
Straight toward the open sea she went, fast as wind and tide could drive
her. The storm still continued. The rain had slackened, though it still
fell. The wind yet blew with violence. With every moment and with every
foot they drew offshore the waves ran higher. Now driving straight
ahead, now swinging in the wind, now wallowing in the waves, and at
times smashing stern first into the rolling sea, the _Rebecca_ drove on
before the storm.
"Make a flare," said the shipper grimly. "We've got to get help."
The big sailor set about executing his order, but Alec darted into the
cabin. Swiftly he threw over his switch. Then, steadying his hand, he
flashed the call, "SOS--SOS--SOS." Then he paused and listened.
Almost immediately came a reply. "I have your signal of distress. Who
and where are you?"
"Schooner _Rebecca_," flashed back Alec. "Drifting out to sea between
the Delaware Capes, just off Henlopen. Rudder broken, anchor lost. Who
and where are you?"
"Steamer _Lycoming_. About thirty miles south of the Delaware Capes.
Should reach you in less than two hours. Keep a flare burning."
Alec leaped from his instrument as though he were shot. "It's Roy," he
cried. "It's Roy. The _Lycoming_ is only thirty miles away. She'll reach
us in less than two hours."
Again he turned to his instrument. Now he flashed out the _Lycoming's_
call. "WNA--WNA--WNA de 3ADH--3ADH--3ADH," he flashed.
At once came the response. "3ADH--3ADH--3ADH de WNA--WNA--WNA. Have been
trying to get you, Alec. Where are you?"
"On the _Rebecca_," flashed back Alec. "Just sent the SOS you answered."
"Thank God you've got a wireless!" came back the answer from Roy. "Don't
worry. We'll find you sure. We've already shifted our course. We're
heading straight for the Capes."
"Stand by while I tell the Captain, Roy," signalled Alec. Then he threw
over his switch and darted out on deck.
"We're saved, Captain," he shouted through the storm. "The _Lycoming_
is only thirty miles away and is heading straight for us. She will reach
us in less than two hours."
Anxiously the three watchers peered into the dark. Aloft swung their
lights. In a dish-pan on the deck a flare was burning. From time to time
Hawley fed oil-soaked pieces of wood to the flames. The rain had ceased
to fall. The wind still blew fitfully, but with lessened violence. The
night was as dark as a tunnel. Up and down, up and down, the oyster-boat
now rose and fell on the great swells of the Atlantic. At last Alec was
within sight of the ocean. But it was little he saw of it or cared to
see of it.
What he was watching for was a light. Minute after minute the silent
watchers strained their eyes into the darkness. Time passed. A half hour
went by. An hour elapsed. Then far off in the dark something glowed
faintly. Minute by minute the light grew brighter. It came closer.
Alec darted into the cabin. He flashed the _Lycoming's_ call and got an
answer. "We can see the lights of a big steamer," he signalled. "Can you
see us yet? We are burning a flare on deck and our lights are burning
aloft."
"We see you plainly. Will reach you in a few minutes."
Alec shut off his power. "Come on deck," he said to Elsa.
She followed him up the companionway. Alec tore off his coat and
wrapped it around her. Then he took her hand and led her forward.
"Look," he said. "You may never see another sight like this."
"I never want to," said Elsa.
"That is the _Lycoming_," said Alec. "Didn't I tell you that Roy was a
prince? We shall owe our lives to him. He's a wonderful wireless man."
"Will you ever learn any sense?" said Elsa. "How would Roy or his
captain have known that we were here if we hadn't had a good wireless
man on board the _Rebecca?_"
Now the _Lycoming_ was close at hand. Suddenly her search-light blazed
forth and rested fairly on the little schooner. Slowly the big steamer
drew near. Then she stopped. Presently a boat shot into the circle of
light. Lusty sailors were pulling at the oars. A line trailed behind.
The boat passed slowly to leeward of the helpless oyster-boat, then drew
close. A sailor rose to his feet and cast a little line. Swiftly it came
hissing through the air. Hawley grasped it before it touched the deck.
Hand over hand he pulled the line aboard. The light line was followed by
a huge hawser. Eagerly the line was hauled aboard. Big Hawley made it
fast. The ship's boat disappeared into the darkness. The sound of
tackle-blocks soon followed. Slowly the _Lycoming_ moved ahead. The
hawser tightened. The _Rebecca_ swung gently round, then slowly moved
ahead. In another moment she was moving steadily through the water.