ASTRAL INFLUENCE--THE CREW'S VERSION OF THE UNKNOWN
With these orders the crew, although silent and solemn, went about their
various duties in their shiny and squeaky shoes, the only remaining sign
of what had come to pass.
I told the steward to throw all of the Captain's clothing overboard. He
protested, saying, "Surely, sir, you won't destroy his blankets?"
"Oh, yes, Steward, there are enough germs in those blankets to destroy
all of Coxey's Army."
This mention of Coxey's Army was a mistake indeed. He changed at once
from the comparative refinement that the hymn had wrought in him, to the
fiery rage of the soap-box orator.
"They were the men," he thundered, "who make life possible for you and
me. Otherwise we should be ground in the mill of the lust and greed of
capitalism."
He started to lead off on the subject of equal distribution, when I
interrupted:
"Steward, this is no place to expound your theories of Socialism. You
have done much harm since you came aboard this ship. Here," pointing to
Swanson, who was slowly recovering from his battle for supremacy, "is a
man who was led to believe from listening to your radical doctrines that
work was not a necessary element in his life. Living in your world of
thought, he gained the impression that refusing to work and disobeying
orders was a perfectly natural thing to do. Now let me impress you with
this thought--while you are aboard this ship with me, I'll not tolerate
any more of your ill-advised teachings to the crew."
Later, while he was throwing the Captain's bedding overboard, I could
hear him say:
"... To the vile dust from whence they sprung,
Unwept, unhonored and unsung."
December 20th, 1898. Our position of ship at noon today was four miles
north latitude, longitude 147° 19" west. In looking over the chart I
found that the course had been laid out by the Captain before his death.
Although now seventy miles to the eastward of it, I decided with
favorable winds to follow this line to the South Sea Isles.
It was while doing this work that I fell to pondering my
responsibilities to the owners, the crew and the consignees. We were
carrying about five hundred thousand feet of select lumber to Suva, Fiji
Islands. I had never visited these islands, but had read of their
submerged reefs and tricky currents. Up to this time I had taken my
responsibilities negatively, being of the age when one is not taken
seriously, and I must say being rather inclined to lean on those higher
up. This latter is, I believe, very destructive to one's self-confidence
and determination, those qualities so necessary in fitting one for
leadership both by land and sea.
In cleaning up the Captain's cabin I was deeply impressed with his
remarkable sense of order. His best clothes were lashed to a partition
to keep from chafing by the roll of the ship. The ash-tray was fastened
to the floor across the room and opposite the bed, and there also stood
tobacco, matches, cigars and spittoon. When using these things he would
have to get up and move clear across the room from his writing-desk or
bed, which seemed out of place for a sailorman.
(Captains whom I sailed with usually disregarded any and all sense of
order, preferring not to interfere with the laws of gravity,
particularly when chewing tobacco. But if these same white shirts
happened to leave the hand of the sailor who washed them with any
remnant of stain, His Majesty could be heard swearing all over the
ship.)
For the past three days everything has been going beautifully, with the
wind free and fair. We are clipping it off at ten knots an hour.
Tonight I noticed that the man at the wheel acted rather queerly, and
was not steering at all well. The men looked continually from left to
right, acting as if they feared that some one was going to strike them.
It was during the middle watch that I heard a conversation in the
forecastle between Riley, Old Charlie and Broken-Nosed Pete. Charlie was
trying to convince Pete by saying:
"You may not understand, but it is true, none the less. Look at me in
the 'Mud Puddler.'"
The suspense of this argument was evidently getting on Riley's nerves.
He interrupted with, "Damn it all, man, I tell you he is back on the
ship. Haven't we all heard him prancing around in his room? Upon my
sowl, I have felt him looking into the compass. Oh, be Hivins, me good
man, you will see him soon enough."
Here Old Charlie once more took the floor. "Riley," said he, "I believe
that he has come back to warn us of some danger."
"Divil a bit av danger we will be having." This with bravado.
"You know he may have come back to find his knife. You remember when you
sewed him up you found it in his bed."
"Ah, go wan, you durty ape, didn't I throw it overboard with him?"
"It may be he wants to talk with some one."
"Be Hivins, shure I don't want to talk wit him. Why sure'n I don't know
the man at all. I niver shpoke a wurd to him on this ship."
"Well, it does seem that he is trying to manifest himself to you more
than to any one on this ship. Why not ask him if you can help him in any
way?" Evidently this conversation was getting too creepy for Riley for
he changed the subject, declaring with great feeling that he had never
seen a more beautiful night, and so near Christmas too.
But Charlie was not to be put off that way.
"Riley," he said, "can't you feel him around here at this moment?"
"Ah, go wan, to Hell wit you, sure'n you will have him keepin' the
lookout wit you the next we hear."
I was so much interested in what I had heard that I jumped up onto the
forecastle head. I came upon them so suddenly that Riley jumped back
exclaiming, "Hivinly Father, and what is this?"
He seemed greatly relieved when I spoke and said artfully:
"Isn't this a beautiful night? See how large and bright those stars are
there," pointing to the Southern Cross. "You men seem to have some
secret about this ship,--what is it?" I continued, as my remark met with
no response.
Old Charlie cleared his throat, and, looking towards Riley as if for an
approval, said solemnly: "Things are not as they should be aft."
"What is it? Aren't you being treated well? Aren't you getting enough to
eat?"
"Oh, it isn't that at all, sir," broke in Riley.
"Hold on, Riley, let me explain," and Old Charlie once more cleared his
throat.
"As I was saying, we believe that the ghost of the Captain is back on
board," tapping the deck with his foot.
I felt that a word of encouragement was necessary if I expected to be
let in on the mystery. "Well," said I, "that is nothing. Men who have
been taken suddenly out of this life may perhaps have left some
important business unfinished, and the most natural thing in the world
is for them to find some one whom they can converse with."
"That's just what I was telling Riley, sir, that very same thing, and
you know Riley seems to have more influence with him than any one so
far."
"Influence is it?" said Riley, "and shure, sir, he is a stranger
intirely to me."
"Tell me about it, Riley."
"It's a damned strange thing, sir. Well, it was me watch from ten to
twelve. I was just after striking six bells, when I takes a chew of me
tobacco, and ses I to myself I had better be careful where I spit
around here. I know, sir, you don't like tobacco juice on the
paint-work. Reaching down to locate the spit-box to make sure that I
could do it daycently, be me sowl, sur, something flipped by me.
Shtraitening up, ses I to meself, ses I, 'Be Hivins, and it must be the
blood running to me head.' I took a look at the compass, and she was one
point to windward of her course. You were forward, sir, taking a pull on
the forestaysail-halyards, and I ses to meself, 'Sure an if he comes aft
and catches me with her off her course he will flail me like he did the
big Swede.' Ah, an shure it is the fine bye he is now. There's the
Squarehead so rejuced he even offers to wash me tin plate for me. Well,
I got her back on her course, when all of a sudden I heard the divil's
own noise in the Captain's room. Ses I to myself, ses I, 'Mike Riley,
don't be a damned fool and belave iverything you hear.' But look as I
would I could not keep my eyes from the window of the Captain's room,
whin lo and behold, I got a glimpse of his face looking out at me.
'Hivenly Father,' ses I, 'give me strenk and faith in yous to finish me
watch.' Glory be to God, sir, I lost me head, and it's hard up wit me
helm I was doing, when you shouted, 'Where in Hell are you going with
her?' Be Hivins, and I was going straight back with her."
During this story Broken-Nosed Pete kept edging closer, seemingly
impressed, and about to become a convert to Riley's sincerity, while Old
Charlie was just revelling in the details of the apparition, and at
times, thinking that Riley was not doing justice to his subject in
creating the proper amount of enthusiasm, would interrupt by saying,
"There you are now. Just as I was saying. One couldn't expect anything
else,"--and so forth.
These remarks seemed to resolve any doubts that may have existed in
Riley's mind of the genuineness of the face at the window.