WITHIN THE TROPICS
The 'Silver Crown' was now in the midst of the steady north-east
trade wind, the anchors had been taken in-board and secured on the
forecastle-head, the cables were stowed away in their respective
lockers, while the plugging of the hawse-pipes rendered the
forecastle itself more comfortable and dry for the crew. With lower,
topmast, topgallant, and even royal studding-sails swelling out
bravely on the fresh breeze the clipper maintained her reputation for
fast sailing, each day's run finding her drawing nearer the
'doldrums,' or the calm belts situated on either side of the equator.
Every hour of those lovely days brought fresh attractions and delight
to Jack Clewlin, who never wearied of watching the shoals of
flying-fish rise above the sea, and with extended 'wings' speed off
to leeward.
Bonito, skip-jack, dolphin, and the gracefully-moving porpoise,
gambolled fearlessly under the bow, now momentarily disappearing in
the fringe of foam cast up by the cleaving cut-water, or forging far
ahead without apparent effort.
The scene was sufficiently striking, and well calculated to impress
itself on a young and imaginative mind, while the whole was
brilliantly illuminated by a cloudless sun set in a dome of exquisite
blue.
From the topgallant forecastle-head a fairly good view of the
speeding vessel could be obtained, but the best point from which to
see her was the jib-boom end, and although Jack felt inclined to
climb out there, he was not permitted to do so.
'No, no, Master Jack,' one of the quarter-masters, named Readyman,
exclaimed; 'a few months ahead you may try that. A slip of hand or
foot now would end all your voyaging, and how could I send your dad
such news?'
'Do you know my father?' Jack eagerly inquired.
'Ay, lad, and sailed with him too, long before you were born!
Directly I saw him here I knew him again, and promised to keep an eye
on you.'
At that moment a cry from amongst the swelling canvas aloft reached
the deck.
'There they blow!'
The boy at first failed to see anything, although he knew that whales
must be in sight.
It was not long, however, before Readyman pointed out several dark
specks just awash off the port-quarter, and fast overhauling the
clipper, despite her ten knots an hour.
As they drew closer Jack perceived several jets of spray suddenly
rise above the water.
'They are playing,' the quarter-master explained, 'and only live in
warm latitudes. We call them "bottle-noses."'
'Is it not wonderful how many strange creatures there are in the sea,
Readyman?' Jack said.
'It is indeed, Master Jack,' the quarter-master replied; 'I have
often thought so, and tried to guess what some of them were made for.'
Like war-ships in line ahead the bottle-noses approached still closer.
'They will strike us!' Jack cried.
'No, no, you need not fear that,' Readyman said; 'they are more
scared of you than you could be of them. Directly they see the
vessel they'll dive.'
Almost immediately their leader did so, and, sinking fathoms deep
beneath the keel of the speeding clipper, all disappeared, but were
soon seen far off to starboard.
The steady wind proved so favourable that considerable progress was
made, but by degrees it began to slacken, until at last the 'Silver
Crown' was left wholly becalmed within the 'doldrums.'
The heat had now become most oppressive, especially for those obliged
to sleep under decks, but the captain ordered several 'windsails' to
be rigged up fore and aft, and their long, tubular bodies were
dropped below, so that the slightest breath of passing airs might be
directed into the 'tween and orlop, or lower decks. The crew, too,
whistled for a breeze that might take all hands out of such
discomfort.
Yet day after day the vessel remained unassisted on the glittering
sea; the pitch oozed in black bubbles from the main deck seams; the
yards were constantly swung to catch the slightest 'cat's-paw' of
air; the timbers fore and aft groaned unceasingly, and the rigging
and the canvas suffered chafe as the hull rolled helplessly on the
equatorial ocean.
Occasionally a downpour of rain tended to cool the stifling
atmosphere, but as it ceased the heat seemed to increase.
Water-spouts were frequently observed forming on the horizon, but
most fortunately none of them came near the ship.
Some of the gentlemen suggested bathing. Captain Thorne, however,
would not permit even a sail to be used for that purpose, since
several sharks were suddenly perceived within a few fathoms. Next
day he made a cheering announcement.
'The ship will cross the line at noon,' he said.
That event had been eagerly awaited by the passengers.
It was understood that 'King Neptune' would pay them a visit, and
such an event would divert attention from a trying existence beneath
an almost vertical sun.
The sailors immediately became the busiest of all on board, and much
reticence was observed by them.
As the interesting moment approached, the skipper kindly permitted
many people to peer through his telescope, across which a hair had
been artfully fastened, at the 'line' otherwise invisible to an
ordinary eye.
With the making of eight bells, noon, a blast on the fog-horn
announced the arrival of a stranger from 'over the bow,' and in loud
voice he hailed the ship, wishing to know her name, whither she was
bound, and if the captain desired the presence of his master King
Neptune.
Through his speaking-trumpet the skipper made the necessary replies.
Immediately afterwards Neptune himself appeared on the forecastle
head. He was a burly, dignified old fellow in fantastic attire. His
touzled hair and great white beard hung below the shoulders and
waist, while his arms and lower limbs were exposed, and in the right
hand he held a trident.
His arrival was greeted with rounds of cheering, and much
hand-shaking followed, while his trusty 'barber,' laden with an
enormous shaving-pot, lathering brush, and large-sized razor, also
came in for a good deal of notice.
Accompanied by several retainers, the 'King' reached the main deck.
On his mounting a strangely caparisoned steed the animal was
distinctly heard to observe, 'If old Bill don't sit farther aft, my
back-bone will part amidships.'
Surrounded by an admiring throng, Neptune moved aft and wished
Captain Thorne and all his people a safe voyage.
His assistants lost no time in getting to work.
A young ordinary seaman was seized and placed in a chair. His face
was covered with a soapy mixture, but, when he objected to the
bluntness of the razor, his mouth was filled with soap. Then,
suddenly losing his balance, he fell backward into a large
water-filled deck tub.
Other 'greenhorns,' who had not previously crossed the equator,
received similar attentions, but, thanks to the watchfulness of his
friend Readyman, Jack escaped notice.
Some of the young emigrants, however, presently found the sharp eye
of Neptune bent on them, and taking to the rigging for safety, they
were compelled to 'pay their footing' in lieu of a shave.
The utmost good humour prevailed, but before Neptune retired the
amused passengers witnessed yet another strange custom, which, alas!
is fast dying out, if not wholly forgotten by present day British
sailors.
With some ceremony the crew brought aft the effigy of a horse, which
was fastened to a rope that ran through a block at the main yardarm.
The interested and curious spectators closed round the seamen. All
being ready, two of the latter seized the rope, and as the 'animal'
ascended the hands sang the old sea chanty:
'I say, old man, your horse must die,
We say so, and we hope so.
I say, old man, your horse must die:
Oh, poor old man.
But should he live we'll ride him ag'in,
We say so, and we hope so.
And if he dies we'll tan his skin:
Oh, poor old man.'
The figure was thus hauled out to the yardarm, and being cut adrift
fell into the sea, where it was several times dragged below the
surface, but always released, by inquisitive sharks.
The meaning of that procedure was, that on that day the crew had
completed one month's work in lieu of the advance of money obtained
on signing articles, and having thus 'worked off the dead horse,' as
the debt is styled, they would now be earning wages. Captain Thorne
addressed all hands.
'You will remember,' he said, 'that this day, the tenth of March, is
not alone made memorable by our crossing of the line, but that, in
London, His Royal Highness, Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, and the
Princess Alexandra of Denmark, become husband and wife. God bless
them! I call for three cheers; and three more for our beloved
Sovereign, Queen Victoria, who, since her occupation of the British
throne, has endeared herself to her people. God bless her too! Hip,
hip, hurrah!'
The simple words touched the hearts of the assembled throng. Many a
husband and wife recalled their own wedding-day, and up rose a
succession of heart-stirring cheers.
The clipper, momentarily steadied on an even keel, seemed to listen
too, and tremble under the outburst.
'Well done, and I thank you all,' the captain said. And thus ended
that crossing of the line on board the 'Silver Crown.'
A few days later the first breath of the anxiously awaited south-east
trade wind struck the vessel.
The drooping royals began to flutter and then to fill, the
topgallant-sails soon imitated that effort, and the hull once more
answered its helm.
The heavy topsails and lower courses soon filled out. The hands were
called to the braces, and with yards braced sharp up to an increasing
breeze, the 'Silver Crown' drew away from those windless regions
surrounding the equator.
Within one week she had made such progress that the temperature fell
considerably, and refreshing sleep could be once more enjoyed by all.
But about that time Jack Clewlin fell into temporary disgrace with
the chief officer.
Throughout the first portion of the voyage its many attractions kept
the lad fully alive to the charm of sea experiences, and what with
that and the miseries of the 'middle passage' he found it impossible
to obtain the proper amount of sleep.
Now all that inconvenience had disappeared. The nights were becoming
delightfully cooler, and tired Nature, determined to make up all
arrears of sleep, cast on Jack her soothing and irresistible
influence.
He battled stoutly against it while on duty, and in semi-wakefulness
paced the deck until sudden collision with the bulwarks, or the
saloon door, almost sent him to the deck.
Indeed, that duty of night watching proved almost insurmountable. On
the occasion to which reference has been made, it fell to his lot to
keep the bells going from ten o'clock till midnight.
For a while all went well.
At eight bells Mr. Sennit, the chief officer, was called. He never
took more than three minutes to relieve the deck, and on doing so he
invariably looked at the clock in the saloon skylight. This night he
acted as usual, and immediately became angry.
'Who made eight bells?' he sharply inquired.
'I, sir,' Jack replied, but never suspecting that anything could be
amiss.
'Lay aft here, two hands, and clew the mizen royal up,' the mate sang
out on the watch. 'You young booby,' he added, 'I'll teach you not
to call me twenty minutes before my time. Up you go and stow that
sail, and be smart about it too.'
Jack was now thoroughly wide awake, and on looking at the clock found
that it still wanted quarter of an hour to midnight.
That small sail fluttering in the breeze far aloft occasioned much
regret. However, he scrambled into the lower mizen rigging, and
getting through the 'lubber's hole' of the top climbed the topmast
rigging, reached the crosstrees, and presently stood on the foot-rope
of the royal yard.
How to stow the sail he did not know. Never mind! All that would
come later, and the time was his own.
At present he felt sufficiently proud of having accomplished what he
had not dared to attempt in broad daylight.
The pure life-giving sea breeze filled his young lungs till a shout
of boyish delight could scarcely be repressed.
And what a magnificent spectacle lay spread out before him! On every
hand, and far as the eye could see, a vast expanse of ocean lay
glittering in the silvery radiance of an almost full moon.
The long narrow hull of the clipper loomed in patches of brilliant
moonlight and deep shadows cast by the towering canvas.
The big main topgallant-sail, and the large main royal rose in front
far above his own level, and away astern he could see the
phosphorescent track of the ship distinctly marked.
Never before had he seen so lovely a spectacle.
Jack began to hum the air of an old sea song learned at home:
'Oh, wonder not that next to thee
I love the galloping wave.
The first of coursers wild and free,
And only carries the brave.
She's a gallant ship, with gallant crew,
Then, mother, be proud of your boy in blue.'
A sharp and stern hail reached him.
'Royal yard, there, are you going to furl that sail?'
'Ay, ay, sir,' he replied.
Rightly judging that some loosely fastened cordage, named gaskets,
was for wrapping round the yard and sail, Jack used it, and 'picking
up' the centre portion of the canvas he stowed it as best he could,
and speedily returned to the deck.
The royal had not been stowed in shipshape fashion, yet it passed
muster, and the lad presently discovered that he had spent nearly
half his watch on the yard.
'You were asleep when making eight bells, Clewlin,' the mate observed.
'I must have been, sir,' Jack replied. 'It will not occur again.'
'If it does, you shall try your hand at the big main royal,' the
officer returned. 'Get to your bunk.'
Alarmed by the threat, Jack disappeared.