Boy Scouts at Sea; Or, A Chronicle of the B. S. S. Bright Wing

by Arthur Astor Carey

Orders had been given privately the night before through the “B. M.’s” to all the Sea Scouts that routine duties were to go on precisely the same as under ordinary circumstances, and that the newcomers were to be considered and treated as guests of the ship; and the hospitality of the ship required that every scout and officer on board should be willing to share the use of his belongings with their guests and feel responsible for their comfort and safety. After consulting with the Chairman and Mr. Miller, regular stations at quarters were assigned to the officers and seamen of the Monmouth and they were also informed of the ship’s regulations through the Skipper and the Second Officer. Among the Monmouth’s men—besides the Second Officer and Mr. Apthorp who had served as steward—were the chief engineer, two firemen, Jimmie, the cabin boy, and three seamen. They fully entered into the spirit of their new situation, and even proposed to the Second Officer that they should form a ship’s band from among their own number; for they had a concertina, a bugle, and a flute among them, which they had been able to carry away from the wreck uninjured. The Skipper thought they had better wait awhile before making permanent plans, for, much as they enjoyed the good time they were having on the Boy Scout ship, they could hardly, under the circumstances, expect to stay there long.

It was Thursday evening when they reached Vineyard Haven, and on Friday morning, immediately after “colors”, the Chairman and the Skipper went ashore again, in the launch this time, accompanied by Mr. Wilson, the mate, and the boatswain. When they returned, two of the boat’s crews were out for rowing practice, while the two other sections were on deck splicing ropes and practising their bandaging for “first aid.”

The Chairman knew, of course, that the Skipper would first of all want to have a talk with his own men and tell them the result of his effort to communicate with the Consul; and so he offered them the use of the cabin, and they all trooped down the after companionway. In about ten minutes the Skipper put his head above the cabin house and invited the Chairman to come down and join them.

“Mr. Chairman,” said he, “I have told my men here, including Mr. Apthorp, my father-in-law, what we learnt over the telephone this morning. Of course, we are mighty glad at the news that the crew of lifeboat Number 1 was picked up by the Mauretania and taken to New York. So long as they are in communication with the British Consul in Boston, we need not decide anything about meeting them until we get to his office. But there is one thing we’ve got to attend to straight off, and that is to shake hands with you, and every man and boy aboard your ship. There’s no way that we can make a return, except by passing along what you have done for us to some other poor devils, if we should ever get the chance. So, all we have to say now, sir, is ‘God bless you’, and put us ashore as quick as you can.”

“I think,” answered the Chairman, “we had better let you off at Wood’s Hole, which is about the nearest railroad terminus on the mainland. It is only about six miles from here, as the crow flies, and about three hours by rail from Boston. I am sorry to part so soon, just as we were beginning to get acquainted,” continued he, “for, if this wind holds, it will not take us long to get across the sound. What does your father-in-law think of this plan?”

Mr. Apthorp had insisted on putting on his regular clothes that morning, and was sitting in one of the cabin chairs when he was thus referred to.

“I think, sir,” said he, “the plan is a good one; I am beginning to feel like a new man from the rest I have had on board your ship; but we crowd you up more than is comfortable for you. I advise you to get rid of us as quickly as you can, sir, because, when we get good and used to your way of seafaring, we’ll all want to stay with you forever!”

There was nobody ashore, so they were able to set sail at once. Dick Gray was on duty as messenger that morning, and he took the message to the Captain to get under way as soon as he was ready.

The sails were set, and the anchor weighed in short order, for the crew of the Monmouth insisted on being allowed to do their share at the ropes and windlass. A stiff breeze was blowing from the same direction as the night before,—a little north of northeast,—so that they would have to tack out against the wind until they passed the mouth of the harbor, and then would have a straight course for Wood’s Hole, with the wind abeam on the starboard tack. But, just as they were about to hoist the anchor, the chaplain of the Bethel arrived alongside in his launch and offered them a tow. This, of course, was a great help, as the wind was too strong for a tow by the ship’s launch, so the offer was gratefully accepted, and it became unnecessary to tack against the wind.

The chaplain’s launch was a powerful boat which he was in the habit of using to visit incoming vessels and to bring their crews ashore to the Bethel. It did not take him long to tow the Bright Wing out to where she could head directly for Wood’s Hole, and then he cast off the line and waved his hand for good-by.