Ola Simonsen having been safely deposited on board, Nils Petter handed up a number of items in addition. One large joint of beef, six pork sausages, one ham, one case of tinned provisions, and one marked significantly, "Glass: with care."
Towards morning a light, northerly breeze sprang up, and they weighed anchor again. Nils Petter, instead of pacing the after-part with his hands behind his back, as became the dignity of a captain, came forward and took up his post beside the windlass, sent the rest of the crew briskly about their business, and fell to singing with the full force of his lungs, till the agent on the quay went in for his glasses to see what was happening.
Nils Petter was the very opposite of his brother, who would make a whole voyage without saying a word to his crew except to give the necessary orders. Nils Petter, on the other hand, chatted with the men and lent a hand with the work like any ordinary seaman. Altogether, the relations between captain and crew were such as would have been thoroughly pleasant and cordial ashore.
There were beefsteaks for dinner as long as the beef lasted out, and Nils Petter shared in brotherly fashion with the rest—there was no distinction of rank on board in that respect; it was an ideal socialistic Utopia!
The case marked "Glass: with care" was opened, and each helped himself at will, till only the straw packing remained. It was a cheery, comfortable life on board, as all agreed, not least Nils Petter, who laughed and sang the whole day long. No one had ever dreamed of such a state of things on board the Eva Maria, least of all Bernt Jorgensen, who was fortunately in ignorance of the idyllic conditions now prevailing in his beloved ship.
The only occasion throughout the voyage when any real dissension arose between Nils Petter and his crew was when opening one of the tins brought on board at Horten. The contents defied identification despite the most careful scrutiny. The label certainly said "Russian Caviare," but Nils Petter and the rest were none the wiser for that. A general council was accordingly held, with as much solemnity as if the lives of all were in peril on the sea.
"I've a sort of idea the man in the shop said eat it raw," ventured Nils Petter.
Ola Simonsen was reckless enough to try.
"Ugh—pugh—urrrgh!" he spluttered. "Of all the...."
"Itsch—hitch—huh!" said Thoresen, the mate. "Better trying cooking it, I think." (This Thoresen, by the way, was the husband of Trina Thoresen, before mentioned, and a good friend of Nils Petter, who, in moments of exaltation would call him brother-in-law, which Thoresen never seemed to mind in the least.)