QUARTER-DECK FURNITURE
Though, for reasons hinted at above, they would not let me steer, I
contented myself with learning the compass, a graphic facsimile of
which I drew on a blank leaf of the _“Wealth of Nations,”_ and studied
it every morning, like the multiplication table.
I liked to peep in at the binnacle, and watch the needle; and I
wondered how it was that it pointed north, rather than south or west;
for I do not know that any reason can be given why it points in the
precise direction it does. One would think, too, that, as since the
beginning of the world almost, the tide of emigration has been setting
west, the needle would point that way; whereas, it is forever pointing
its fixed fore-finger toward the Pole, where there are few inducements
to attract a sailor, unless it be plenty of ice for mint-juleps.
Our binnacle, by the way, the place that holds a ship’s compasses,
deserves a word of mention. It was a little house, about the bigness of
a common bird-cage, with sliding panel doors, and two drawing-rooms
within, and constantly perched upon a stand, right in front of the
helm. It had two chimney stacks to carry off the smoke of the lamp that
burned in it by night.
It was painted green, and on two sides had Venetian blinds; and on one
side two glazed sashes; so that it looked like a cool little summer
retreat, a snug bit of an arbor at the end of a shady garden lane. Had
I been the captain, I would have planted vines in boxes, and placed
them so as to overrun this binnacle; or I would have put canary-birds
within; and so made an aviary of it. It is surprising what a different
air may be imparted to the meanest thing by the dainty hand of taste.
Nor must I omit the helm itself, which was one of a new construction,
and a particular favorite of the captain. It was a complex system of
cogs and wheels and spindles, all of polished brass, and looked
something like a printing-press, or power-loom. The sailors, however,
did not like it much, owing to the casualties that happened to their
imprudent fingers, by catching in among the cogs and other intricate
contrivances. Then, sometimes in a calm, when the sudden swells would
lift the ship, the helm would fetch a lurch, and send the helmsman
revolving round like Ixion, often seriously hurting him; a sort of
breaking on the wheel.
The _harness-cask,_ also, a sort of sea side-board, or rather
meat-safe, in which a week’s allowance of salt pork and beef is kept,
deserves being chronicled. It formed part of the standing furniture of
the quarter-deck. Of an oval shape, it was banded round with hoops all
silver-gilt, with gilded bands secured with gilded screws, and a gilded
padlock, richly chased. This formed the captain’s smoking-seat, where
he would perch himself of an afternoon, a tasseled Chinese cap upon his
head, and a fragrant Havanna between his white and canine-looking
teeth. He took much solid comfort, Captain Riga.
Then the magnificent _capstan!_ The pride and glory of the whole ship’s
company, the constant care and dandled darling of the cook, whose duty
it was to keep it polished like a teapot; and it was an object of
distant admiration to the steerage passengers. Like a parlor
center-table, it stood full in the middle of the quarter-deck, radiant
with brazen stars, and variegated with diamond-shaped veneerings of
mahogany and satin wood. This was the captain’s lounge, and the chief
mate’s secretary, in the bar-holes keeping paper and pencil for
memorandums.
I might proceed and speak of the _booby-hatch,_ used as a sort of
settee by the officers, and the _fife-rail_ round the mainmast,
inclosing a little ark of canvas, painted green, where a small white
dog with a blue ribbon round his neck, belonging to the dock-master’s
daughter, used to take his morning walks, and air himself in this small
edition of the New York Bowling-Green.