“But won’t it cost more to fix her up than to build a new ship?” asked Jim.
The old skipper shook his grizzled head. “No, sirree,” he declared. “Ships is mighty costly these days, an’ ’sides, where ye goin’ ter find any one thet knows how ter build a proper whale ship? Why, blow me, ye can’t find a man what knows a blubber-hook from a fluke-chain nor a clumsy-cleat from a scrap-hopper outside o’ New Bedford. Course she’ll need a bit o’ tinkerin’, few new planks an’ riggin’; a bit o’ caulkin’, and like as not, some new spars. But shucks, that ain’t much. Reckon’ they’ll have her all fine an’ dandy an’ ready fer sea inside a month.”
“But how are they going to caulk her and fix her here in the mud?” inquired Tom. “Won’t they have to tow her over to the dry dock?”
Cap’n Pem roared with merriment.
“Bless yer heart, no!” he cried when he could control his laughter. “Didn’t ye ever see a ship hove-down? But o’ course ye haven’t. Why, they’ll jes clap a tackle on to her mastheads and heave her down till they git to her bottom, easy as eatin’ pie.”
“Well, I’ll like to see that,” declared Tom. “I should think it would pull the masts out or crack her wide open.”
“Nary a mite,” the captain assured him. “Whale ships is made fer hard work an’ knockin’ about, not fer looks. Course there ain’t many o’ these ’ere schooners nowadays what’ll stand fer it; but ye jes wait an’ see how the ol’ Hector takes it.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Tom and Jim, in company with a number of boy friends who joined them, stood upon the dock watching with interest, and not without pangs of regret, the rapid dismantling of the bark.
“Reckon ’tis kind o’ hard on ye kids,” remarked Cap’n Pem, when one of the boys expressed his sorrow at losing the old ship. “Durned if I don’t hate ter have her go myself. Kind o’ like losin’ of an ol’ friend. Jest hope I’ll be spared ter see her comin’ hom’ ag’in. Bet she’ll be full up and with a shark tail on her jibboom.”
Not until the laborers knocked off work did the boys turn from the dock towards their various homes, and by then, the Hector had been stripped bare of her rigging; huge pieces of rotten wood had been cut from her stem; planks had been torn from sides and decks; her cabin and galley had been ripped out; and, as Tom remarked, she looked more like a wreck than ever.