WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SEA FOAM.
Before the quarter-boat of the Ocean-Born could reach the sloop, all
on board of the latter had come on deck. It was a day in August, but
the north-west wind rendered the weather quite cool at sea, though
the sun, even at five o’clock in the afternoon, was warm under the
lee of the high island. The boat came alongside the sloop, and Neil
Brandon stepped on board of her, followed by Ben Lunder. Both of the
Philadelphians touched their caps politely, and bowed to the ladies, of
whom there now appeared to be three, instead of two, all of them still
in their teens.
“I beg your pardon, ladies and gentlemen, but may I speak to the
captain of this yacht?” said Neil.
“Captain Ned Patterdale,” said one of the young men, introducing
another, who stepped forward.
“The yacht belongs to me, and I am in charge of her,” said Ned
Patterdale, bowing.
“Captain Brandon, commander of the steam-yacht Ocean-Born, of
Philadelphia,” interposed Ben, introducing his friend.
“Captain Brandon, I am glad to know you,” added Ned, extending his
hand. “I may say I am particularly glad to know you, under present
circumstances.”
“And I heartily reciprocate the sentiment,” said Neil, shaking hands
with the captain of the sloop. “What yacht is this?”
“The Sea Foam, of and for Belfast.”
“You have been unfortunate.”
“Very unfortunate; and this fact enables us to appreciate your
kindness.”
“Nothing can afford me so much pleasure as to assist the unfortunate,”
said Neil, glancing at the rest of the party.
“Captain Brandon, allow me to introduce my party,” added Ned, as
he turned to the ladies, who were all bundled up in shawls and
waterproofs. “This is my sister, Miss Nellie Patterdale.”
Captain Brandon took off his cap, and bowed low.
“Miss Minnie Darling; and I may add that she is the president of the
Dorcas Boat Club,” added Ned.
Neil properly represented Philadelphia gallantry.
“Miss Kate Bilder, boat-leader of the Lily Club.”
The captain did honor to the teaching of his Philadelphia
dancing-master, who had years before instructed him how to bow
gracefully to a lady. Mr. Ben Lunder was introduced in like manner to
the ladies.
“Captain Brandon, Mr. Ramsey, better known among us as Don John, of the
firm of Ramsay & Son, boat-builders;” and the captain and Ben shook
hands with him. “Don John is the builder of the Sea Foam.”
“And the maker of that unfortunate mast that went by the board,”
laughed Don John.
“But I shall prove by and by that it was not the fault of the spar
or its maker, that it failed us in a trying moment,” interposed Ned,
who then presented the rest of the party--Prince Willingood, Morris
Hollinghead, and Dick Adams.
“Captain Patterdale, I did not come on board to draw out your thanks,
or even to gratify my own curiosity in regard to the yacht or her
party,” continued Neil, “but simply to invite you on board of the
steamer, where I think you can all be better accommodated, but
especially the ladies. Allow me to place my after-cabin at their
disposal.”
“Thank you, captain; and in their behalf I shall accept the
invitation,” replied Ned; “for they have been tossed about since six
o’clock this morning, and, more than one wave has broken into the cabin
where they were. They are all cold and wet.”
“Ocean-Born, ahoy!” shouted Neil.
“On board the sloop!” replied Berry Owen.
“Back her alongside!” added Neil.
“Ay, ay, captain.”
“What steamer is that, captain?” asked Ned.
“The Ocean-Born, of Philadelphia,” answered Neil; “and she is entirely
at your service. I hope you will all come on board, for it is fifty
miles to Belfast, if my reckoning is correct.”
“Thanks: we shall be happy to accept your kind invitations, though it
will be necessary for one of us to remain on board to steer.”
“But we will now lash the Sea Foam alongside the steamer, so that you
can pass from one vessel to the other without difficulty. I take it we
shall have smoother water now,” added Neil.
“Yes; we shall be under the lee of the land,” replied Ned.
“I shall need a pilot for the bay, for I know nothing at all about it.”
“We can furnish you just five pilots for these waters, for all of us
are perfectly at home in the bay.”
“I prefer one pilot to five,” laughed Neil.
“Then Don John is your man.”
“I am at your service,” said the boat-builder, as the Ocean-Born came
alongside the Sea Foam.
The three young ladies were shivering with the cold, for, before they
could be induced to allow themselves to be shut up in the cabin,
they had been wet through. A fire had been made in the stove in the
cook-room, forward, of the Sea Foam; but the sea had carried away the
piece of funnel above the deck, and the water rolled through the hole
into the stove, putting out the fire and filling the cabin with smoke
and gas. Morris Hollinghead, who was the cook for the cruise, had been
unable to practise his vocation for the want of a fire; and the bill
of fare for breakfast and dinner had been “hard tack” and cheese, with
cold water. The “soft tack” and other stores had been washed with salt
water.
Neil and Ben politely assisted the ladies on board of the steamer, and
conducted them to the after-cabin. The blinds had been opened, and
steam let into the heating apparatus, so that the cabin was already
warmed to eighty degrees.
“What a magnificent cabin!” exclaimed Minnie Darling, as she entered it.
“This is the ladies’ cabin, and we seldom open it except when we have
ladies on board. Here is a state-room, with two berths and a divan,”
continued Neil, opening the door of the room. “No one will enter the
after-cabin except upon your invitation, ladies.”
“Isn’t it elegant!” ejaculated Kate Bilder.
“And as warm as toast!” added Nellie Patterdale.
“When it is too warm, you can turn this little wheel in the radiator.
I will leave you now. We shall have supper in about an hour in the
forward cabin. Shall I close the blinds before I go?”
“Thank you: do so, if you please.”
The captain closed the blinds, and retired, shutting the door behind
him. The young ladies were as private and as comfortable as they would
have been in their own houses; or they would have been if they could
have changed their wet clothing for dry.
The fenders were put over the side, and the Sea Foam was securely
lashed to the steamer; and, after the boat had been hoisted up and
swung in, the Ocean-Born went ahead. Though the young men from the Sea
Foam were wet, they were used to it, and did not mind the cold. They
looked over the steamer with interest, and then dried themselves off in
the fire-room.
Neil had instructed Peter Blossom, the cook, to get up the best supper
he could for the party; and Mr. Blossom was doing his “level best”
under these orders. The forward cabin had been heated, and the captain
and Ben were entertaining their guests there, except Dick Adams, who
was at the helm of the sloop.
“I could not make out what you were for a long time after I heard the
gun you fired,” said Neil, alluding to the events of the day. “I saw
no mast or sail, and I could not understand how a row-boat happened to
have a gun on board big enough to make so much noise.”
“The Sea Foam belongs to the Belfast Yacht Club, and most of the craft
have the regulation gun on board,” Ned Patterdale explained.
“But how happened you to lose your stick?”
“It was no fault of the stick, I assure you,” added Neil glancing at
Don John. “The Sea Foam broke adrift the other day, and ran into the
bridge above the city. She struck it between the piles, and took all
the strain on her mast, and broke it half off just above the deck. I
had an iron band put on it, and the ship-smith said it was stronger
than before.”
“You were off on a long cruise; that is, a long one with ladies on
board, with no better accommodations than you had for them,” suggested
Neil.
“The run from Belfast to Portland is about a hundred miles. When I went
down, we sailed at four o’clock in the morning, and arrived at six in
the evening--fourteen hours. My father is a member of the Portland
Yacht Club, and, as what is mine belongs to him, he entered the Sea
Foam for the regatta which took place yesterday afternoon. My sister
and the other girls wanted to see the race, and we were glad to have
them go with us, for I was sure we could make the run, with a decent
breeze, between sun and sun; and we did. The girls staid at my uncle’s
house in Portland the two nights, and saw the race from a steamer.”
“What luck had you?” inquired Neil.
“The wind was rather light yesterday for the Sea Foam, which is a
heavy-weather boat; but we took the second prize in our class. That was
better than we expected in that breeze; so we were all satisfied. We
were the first in of our class, but lost the first prize on allowances.
I turned out at four o’clock this morning, and finding that a smashing
breeze was blowing, I did not get the girls on board till six o’clock,
for I thought I could make the run in twelve hours or less. We had
the wind free; and having girls on board, I put a single reef in the
mainsail. When we were clear of the islands, the wind piped fresher
and fresher. About eight o’clock, when we were twenty miles out, I
began to think about putting another reef in the mainsail. I asked Don
John to take a look at the mast, and he started to do so. Just then a
heavy flaw came, and before he could get out of the standing-room, snap
went the mast. It dropped over the side, and hung to, the stump by the
splinters, held by the jib-stay shrouds and sheets. The yacht heeled
over to leeward, so that the girls screamed, and I was afraid she would
fill, for the companion-way was open, and the fore hatch not fastened.”
“You were in a tight place.”
“We were. I wanted to save the sail, if I could; but Don John cut away
the mast with a hatchet, and we cleared away the wreck as well and
quickly as we could. The jib-stay parted at the mast-head, so that we
saved the jib. The sloop righted then; but she rolled terribly in the
trough of the sea, as she drifted rapidly to leeward. The girls were
awfully frightened, though they are braver than girls generally are on
the water. We tried to keep her head up to the sea with the oars, but
without success. Don John then tried to rig a jury-mast, by lashing the
two oars together. We got it up and bent the jib on the boat-hook as
a yard. We had hardly set the sail, when the jury-mast snapped. About
this time we made out your steamer with the glass. We fired three guns
before you put about and headed for us.”
“We had to take in sail; but I headed for you as soon as I made you
out,” added Neil.
“I know you did; and you could not have heard the first guns we fired.
We were happy when we saw the steamer headed for us, as you may well
believe.
“And I was happy to think I could help you.”
“You have a sailor’s heart, Captain Brandon; and I hope you will remain
some time at Belfast,” added Ned. “We shall do all we can to make your
stay pleasant.”
“Thank you; but I am going up the Penobscot as far as Bangor. I
intended to stop at all the principal towns, for we have a month of
vacation before us.”
“The Yacht Club and the Dorcas Club have planned an excursion up the
river, and we should be glad to go with you; but of course we can’t
beat up stream with your steamer.”
“How many yachts are going?”
“Only six have agreed to do so.”
“Then I can tow you up. But pray what is the Dorcas Club? I don’t quite
understand that,” said Neil.
“The Dorcas Benevolent Society is an association of twenty-five young
ladies who sew for, and otherwise help, the poor and needy of our
city,” continued Ned. “They have done a great deal of good that no one
else would have thought of doing. When they took a fancy for rowing,
some of the wealthy men of the city, including Don John here--”
“I am not one of the wealthy men of the city,” interposed the
boat-builder.
“But you gave the Dorcas Club a boat.”
“One I had built during the leisure of a winter, when I had nothing
else to do.”
“Don John gave a boat, Mr. Jones gave a boat, and others gave money to
buy boats. Now the Dorcas Club have five four-oar boats, in which they
do the most graceful rowing you ever saw.”
“We must stop two weeks in Belfast,” said Ben Lunder, rubbing his
hands. “Young lady boat-clubs! The honey-pots are upset upon us by this
fortunate adventure! Bless you, Captain Patterdale, for carrying away
the fore-sky-sail-mast of your royal yacht! Twenty-five young ladies in
boats!”
All hands laughed heartily at this sally. The topic was changed, much
against Ben’s wishes, for the guests wanted to know more about the
Ocean-Born and those who sailed her. Nearly all we have given the
reader was imparted to them on this subject.
“Der subber ist ready!” shouted Karl, when he had brought in all the
dishes from the galley.
“Twenty-five young ladies, in five boats!” exclaimed Ben; “rowing
gracefully! smiling sweetly! Who ever heard of such a thing? Shade of
the stu’n-sail-boom! I bathe my weary spirit in sweet visions of the
future!”
“Miss Bilder is the leader of the Lily,” added Ned.
“Builder of sweet castles in the air!”
“Der subber ist ready!” shouted Karl, impatiently. “I dinks you don’t
petter dalk all night, ven der shickens must get gold. I goes to der
door der gabin, and dells der ladies der subber ist ready. I guess you
don’t petter stay here ven dey must stop in der gabin. Dey don’t go
dill you gomes for dem.”
“Right, Karl!” and Neil, Ned, and Ben went for them.
They were escorted to the forward cabin. Karl, with some assistance
from Mr. Peter Blossom, the artist of the galley, had set the table in
the most elegant manner. The cook was not satisfied to remain in the
galley after he had cooked the supper; and, putting on a clean white
jacket, had come into the cabin, ostensibly to wait on the table, but
really to witness and enjoy his triumph.
The bill of fare included broiled chickens, beefsteak, mutton chops,
with toast, muffins, lady-cake, ladies’ fingers, and other nice things
especially prepared for the ladies. Peter had done his best, as he was
instructed to do, and the effect was immense. The guests were duly and
properly astonished at the variety and elegance of the table.
“You live like nabobs,” said Ned Patterdale, who was seated on Neil’s
left, while Nellie was on his right.
“It would be acting a lie to pretend that we make such a spread as this
at every meal,” laughed Neil. “Mr. Peter Blossom, our cook, who has the
most profound respect for the ladies, got up his bill of fare for this
great occasion. Shall I give you some broiled chicken, Miss Patterdale?”
“If you please,” replied she.
“Miss Minnie, darling,” said Ben Lunder, who was seated opposite the
president of the Dorcas Club, “may I--”
“Now, Mr. Lunder,” interposed Minnie, blushing, “I wish to say that you
are perpetrating a very old and a very stale joke. I am the victim of
my name; but I banish every gentleman from my presence who presumes to
put a comma between my first and last name.”
“Good Neptune, whose son I am! I will banish every comma from my
speech!” exclaimed Ben, amid the laughter of all the company.
“May I be allowed to ask your name, Mr. Lunder?” continued Minnie.
“Certainly: Benjamin Lunder.”
“Precisely so: B. Lunder,” laughed the president of the Dorcas Club.
“Perhaps you will not object to banishing the period, which, doubtless,
you use in writing your name, and changing the capital L into a small
one. How will it read then?”
“B--lunder. Blunder,” added Ben, rubbing his head.
“Which describes your case exactly, Mr. Lunder.”
“Good!” shouted the captain; and the others applauded the hit.
“I think I will not banish the period,” added Ben, ruefully, “only the
comma.”
“I guess you don’t petter say noding more,” said Karl.--“Do you dinks
you don’t petter have some shickens, Miss Tarling?”
“Thank you, Mr. Schnaffer. On the contrary, I think I will have some,
but not more than one,” laughed Minnie. “I suppose you are a sailor,
Mr. Lunder.”
“O, yes, yes; I’m a sailor; salt as a red herring,” replied Ben. “But
it has taken a whole week to pickle me.”
“Then you enjoy the sea?”
“O, very much: I take to it as a duck to a mud-puddle. I have a sort of
intuitive knowledge of things salt and nautical. The high and mighty
captain of the Ocean-Born reposes the most implicit confidence in my
marine judgment and skill. Why, I had not been on board two minutes
before he sent me out on the mainto’-gallant spanker-boom, to take a
double reef in the fore-royal bobstay!”
“What a treasure you must be! I hope the captain appreciates you.”
“O, he does! And he has the grace to acknowledge that he could not get
along without me. The Ocean-Born would have gone to the bottom in this
cruise if I had not been on board. Why, only this morning, when the
wind was blowing blue blazes, the captain was blowing up all hands, and
the engineer was blowing off steam--”
“See here, Ben! that is hardly fair,” said the captain, shaking his
head. “You are giving these ladies, whose good opinion I value more
than life, the impression that I am a scold; that I blow up the hands;
whereas I never do anything of the sort. I never blow up the crew.”
“I grant the fact.”
“You said I was blowing up all hands.”
“You have spoiled my figure of speech,” replied Ben, solemnly.
“I haven’t blown off steam to-day,” added Gerald Roach.
“All right; I stand corrected,” answered Ben. “May I trouble you for
the starboard side-bone of a chicken, wing-and-wing, captain?”
“You were about to tell us what you did only this morning, Mr. Lunder,”
interposed Minnie.
“True, I was; but my figure of speech was scuttled, wrecked, foundered,
run ashore, dismasted, just to accommodate a few insignificant facts;
and what can a fellow do without his little figure of speech?” replied
Ben, blankly.
“I don’t know that I ever heard a fib called a figure of speech
before; but go on, Ben,” said the captain.
“Very likely you will pick me up again, if I do. I was trying to show
the necessity of having a thorough sailor, like myself, on board. I
remarked that it was blowing blue blazes: I omit the rest of the figure
in deference to the sensitiveness of the captain and engineer. We had
three reefs in the toplights, the starboard tacks in the carpet, the
skysail furled, and everything going by the board a lumber brig had
lost overboard. You can judge by this the imminent deadly peril of the
Ocean-Born. At this critical moment, the captain sent me aloft on the
mainto’-gallant bowsprit, to take out the kinks in the mizzen-royal
smoke-stack. Very likely the captain will deny it. The steamer was
saved, and here we are.”
“It is not necessary to deny anything in that story, Ben,” added the
captain; “and I am sure the ladies will admire your skill and daring.”
“Steamer ahoy!”
The hail came from the port side.
“On board the sloop!” replied Berry Owen, who was at the wheel.
“Anybody lost?” shouted some one; and those at the table saw several
yachts.
“No,” replied Berry.
This answer was followed by hearty cheers from different directions.
“Five sloop-yachts like the Sea Foam in sight,” said the mate to the
party.
The news of the dismasting of the Sea Foam had been telegraphed to
Belfast, and the yachts had come down to cruise after her.