I Remember Very Well Being Over The Side Painting In This
Way, One Fine Afternoon, Our Vessel Going Quietly Along At The Rate
Of Four Or Five Knots, And A Pilot-Fish, The Sure Precursor Of The
Shark, Swimming Alongside Of Us.
The captain was leaning over the
rail watching him, and we quietly went on with our work.
In the
midst of our painting, on
Friday, Dec. 19th, we crossed the equator for the second time.
I had the feeling which all have when, for the first time, they find
themselves living under an entire change of seasons; as, crossing the
line under a burning sun in the midst of December, and, as I afterwards
was, beating about among ice and snow on the fourth of July.
Thursday, Dec. 25th. This day was Christmas, but it brought us no
holiday. The only change was that we had a "plum duff" for dinner,
and the crew quarrelled with the steward because he did not give us
our usual allowance of molasses to eat with it. He thought the plums
would be a substitute for the molasses, but we were not to be cheated
out of our rights in this way.
Such are the trifles which produce quarrels on shipboard. In fact,
we had been too long from port. We were getting tired of one another,
and were in an irritable state, both forward and aft. Our fresh
provisions were, of course, gone, and the captain had stopped our rice,
so that we had nothing but salt beef and salt pork throughout the week,
with the exception of a very small duff on Sunday. This added to the
discontent; and a thousand little things, daily and almost hourly
occurring, which no one who has not himself been on a long and tedious
voyage can conceive of or properly appreciate, - little wars and rumors
of wars, - reports of things said in the cabin, - misunderstanding of
words and looks, - apparent abuses, - brought us into a state in which
everything seemed to go wrong. Every encroachment upon the time
allowed for rest, appeared unnecessary. Every shifting of the
studding-sails was only to "haze"(1) the crew.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
1. Haze is a word of frequent use on board ship, and never,
I believe, used elsewhere. It is very expressive to a sailor,
and means to punish by hard work. Let an officer once say,
"I'll haze you," and your fate is fixed. You will be
"worked up," if you are not a better man than he is.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
In this midst of this state of things, my messmate S - - - and myself
petitioned the captain for leave to shift our berths from the steerage,
where we had previously lived, into the forecastle. This, to our delight,
was granted, and we turned in to bunk and mess with the crew forward.
We now began to feel like sailors, which we never fully did when we were
in the steerage. While there, however useful and active you may be,
you are but a mongrel, - and sort of afterguard and "ship's cousin."
You are immediately under the eye of the officers, cannot dance, sing,
play, smoke, make a noise, or growl, (i.e. complain,) or take any
other sailor's pleasure; and you live with the steward, who is usually
a go-between; and the crew never feel as though you were one of them.
But if you live in the forecastle, you are "as independent as a
wood-sawyer's clerk," (nautice',) and are a sailor. You hear sailor's
talk, learn their ways, their peculiarities of feeling as well as
speaking and acting; and moreover pick up a great deal of curious
and useful information in seamanship, ship's customs, foreign countries,
etc., from their long yarns and equally long disputes. No man can be
a sailor, or know what sailors are, unless he has lived in the forecastle
with them - turned in and out with them, eaten of their dish and drank
of their cup. After I had been a week there, nothing would have tempted
me to go back to my old berth, and never afterwards, even in the worst
of weather, when in a close and leaking forecastle off Cape Horn,
did I for a moment wish myself in the steerage. Another thing which
you learn better in the forecastle than you can anywhere else, is,
to make and mend clothes, and this is indispensable to sailors.
A large part of their watches below they spend at this work, and here
I learned that art which stood me in so good stead afterwards.
But to return to the state of the crew. Upon our coming into the
forecastle, there was some difficulty about the uniting of the
allowances of bread, by which we thought we were to lose a few pounds.
This set us into a ferment. The captain would not condescend to explain,
and we went aft in a body, with a Swede, the oldest and best sailor of
the crew, for spokesman. The recollection of the scene that followed
always brings up a smile, especially the quarter-deck dignity and
eloquence of the captain. He was walking the weather side of the
quarter-deck, and seeing us coming aft, stopped short in his walk,
and, with a voice and look intended to annihilate us, called out,
"Well, what do you want now?" Whereupon we stated our grievances
as respectfully as we could, but he broke in upon us, saying that
we were getting fat and lazy, didn't have enough to do, and that made
us find fault. This provoked us, and we began to give word for word.
This would never answer. He clenched his fist, stamped and swore,
and sent us all forward, saying, with oaths enough interspersed to
send the words home, - "Away with you! go forward every one of you!
I'll haze you! I'll work you up! You don't have enough to do!
You've mistaken your man. I'm F - - - T - - -, all the way from
'down east.' I've been through the mill, ground, and bolted, and come
out a regular-built down-east johnny-cake, good when it's hot, but when
it's cold, sour and indigestible; - and you'll find me so!" The latter
part of the harangue I remember well, for it made a strong impression,
and the "down-east johnny-cake" became a by-word for the rest of the
voyage.
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