In Which the Captain Wounds His Hand
"No, sir, he won't stay down there," said the cook. "He caught a flying-fish the other night; it lit on the deck forward. Since then he just sits in the main rigging watching. When I get near him he runs up aloft."
"I must tell the mate," said the Captain, "to move the flour into the spare room. Those damned rats will eat us out yet. Why don't you tie Toby with the stores?"
"I can't, sir, he won't let me near enough."
This conversation was going on in the cabin while I was trying to read Henry George. I went to sleep wondering how a single tax could be applied to city property. I was not asleep long before I was awakened by loud tapping on my door. "Come in," said I. The door opened. There stood the Captain, pale and excited.
"Would you mind tying up this hand for me? I stuck a marline spike through here," pointing to the fleshy part between the thumb and fore-finger of the right hand.
"Just one minute, sir, I'll get some hot water."
Fortunately there was hot water in the galley.
"There you are, sir, put your hand in the bucket. No, it is not too hot. There, see, I hold my hand in it."
Satisfied that there was no danger of cooking it, he pulled the rag off, and thrust his hand into the bucket. I noticed that there was no blood to speak of. I said, "Captain, did the spike go through your hand?"
"Hell, yes, man, about three inches."
I suggested many remedies, such as washing it with saline solution and bandaging with oakum and so on. But he would have none of them, and insisted on having the rag tied around, assuring me that it would be well in a day or so. He kept on deck most of the first watch, but was evidently in great pain.
"I think that we are running into the doldrums from the look of those clouds to the eastward," said he.
"We have one thing in our favor," I replied; "we should have a three-knot current to the southward according to the pilot chart."
"You should not rely on what those fellows in Washington put onto paper. If you do you will never get anywhere."
At five o'clock in the morning it was raining. There is no place in the world where it rains as it does around the Equator; it seems as if the celestial sluice-gates had gotten beyond control. We were becalmed, and in the doldrums, with not a breath of air. Usually this lasts for five or six days.
During this time every one on board is very busy, catching water, filling barrels, washing clothes, and working ship. The latter work is hard on the crew, for you are always trimming ship for every puff of wind that comes along. Pity the weak-kneed mate in the doldrums. There are times when you tack and wear, and boxhaul ship every fifteen minutes. The crew resent this kind of work, and while doing it they curse and swear, and will do the opposite to what they are told.
Here is where the old-school mate comes in. Obey orders. He sees that they do obey. Lazy sailors breed discontent, and discipline must be stern. If a member of the crew happens to be idle, he must by no means appear to be. He must at least act very seriously, and look to windward, as if beckoning for a breeze. There is an old saying among sailing-ship-men:
"When the wind is fair the money comes in over the stern,
When the wind is ahead the money comes in over the bow."
so a sailor must never show that the unfavorable weather is making pay for him. He must never whistle a tune, nor sing a song, but he is privileged at all times during a calm to whistle as if he were calling a dog, for if you don't get wind with the dog-whistling, you are not to blame. I have seen captains standing for hours whistling for wind. Pity the man who would smile or crack a joke on so serious an occasion. One captain I was with, after whistling off and on all day without avail, threw three of his hats overboard, one after the other, crying in rage, "There, now, damn you, give us a gale."
The wise mate knows his place in trying times like these. He never goes aft, thereby avoiding serious discussions. He always makes it his business to be very busy in the forepart of the ship. The worst time for him is meal-time. It is not uncommon to finish eating without a word being spoken. The cook is not exempt. Should the captain count more than ten raisins in the bread-pudding, look out for a squall!
At breakfast I ate alone. The Captain was walking around in his room.
"How is your hand, sir?" I inquired.
"It is very painful. I have just been washing it with a little carbolic acid I found in a drawer."
"I have taken off staysails, topsails and inner and outer jib, sir."
He did not answer, but shut his door with a slam. I was worried about his condition, but was helpless to do anything for him. He was the stubborn type, with tight lips, and projecting cheek-bones. He believed that what he could not do for himself no other could do for him. I think that this applied only to strangers. As captain of a ship you are always dealing with new faces, and never have much confidence in any one. For instance if, in taking the altitude of the sun or a star, his reckoning should differ from yours by a mile or so, you would always be wrong. The same with longitude by chronometer in time.
The loneliness of the sea must be responsible for this. And yet in their home life, they are ruled and dominated by their wives and children. I remember one old captain I sailed with in the China Seas. Fight? He loved it, ashore and afloat, and was very proud of his ability, claiming that he never took the count. The latter I know to be true. We left ports while I was sailing with him, where much furniture was easily adaptable for firewood.
When in the home port where his wife was, if he had spent more than she allowed him, I would have to make up the difference. She would come down to the ship and say: "Herman, come here, I want you to do so and so." He would look at me, but never ashamed, and say, "Well, what in Hell can I do?"
"But, Captain, I want your advice on so and so."
"Never mind now," he would say, "till I steer her away. You know she don't like you too well anyhow. She heard all about the fight we had in Yokohama with the rickshaw men." Away they would go, arm in arm, a very happy couple.