Ralph was overjoyed. This was the first upper classman who had expressed an interest in him. For those who had spoken to him he had stood on his head and had performed various other antics as ordered. And besides, with this additional stowage room, he would be quite comfortable. “Oh, thank you ever so much,” he said effusively, “and don’t think of my eight demerits; I’d have traded them and more, too, for this nice shelf.”
Baldwin smiled. Then turning to Bollup, who was seated close by, he asked: “Have you come across any hard problems this morning?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Bollup, “a very hard one, but I didn’t find it in my book here. Somebody last night annexed a twenty-dollar bill I had in my locker and the problem is to discover how I’m going to have a good time in New London without any money, sir. I won’t be able to buy myself even so much as a bag of peanuts,” and Bollup grunted disgustedly.
“Go to the executive officer right away and report the circumstances to him,” directed Baldwin. Bollup did so, but nothing came of the investigation. All that was proved was that several servants had been near Bollup’s locker during meal-times, but no incriminating evidence was developed against any of them. That the thief might have been other than a servant was a matter not considered.
The Chesapeake took six days to sail from Annapolis to the mouth of the bay. The ship was tacked innumerable times, constantly from eight in the morning till six in the afternoon. First classmen took turns in handling the ship. The rest rushed to and fro, hauling on this rope and then on that. All day long the cries: “Ready about, stations for stays,” and, “Haul taut, mainsail haul,” and, “Haul well taut, let go and haul,” and, “Reeve and haul the bowlines,” rang incessantly in Ralph’s ears. But during these days he came to know the names of different ropes and where they were to be found, and the particular purpose of each rope; also how the sails were managed.
CHAPTER VII
Man Overboard
Gentle breezes steadily blew the Chesapeake to the south’ard, and in a few days she had cleared the Capes and was out on the broad Atlantic. Ralph Osborn made daily progress in knowledge of the ropes and sails and rigging of the ship. He quickly learned he should say gear, not ropes, and early imbibed the contempt every true sailorman has for one who says: “up-stairs,” or “down-stairs,” instead of the approved terms of “above” or “below.” Very glibly did the midshipmen adopt ship terms in their speech, and soon ship life became very natural to them. On this cruise Ralph’s duty in making and taking in sail, and in all ship evolutions, was to haul on different ropes. The third classmen did the furling and unfurling aloft. These young gentlemen scrambled up the rigging when ordered, like so many squirrels; each bent on being first up the dizzy heights, they ran with as much speed and as little concern as if they were running foot-races on the deck below; though the fourth classmen had deck stations they were all sent aloft and exercised in furling and loosing sail, and in learning the lead of the gear aloft. A lesson in seamanship was assigned each day and all midshipmen were kept constantly busy. They soon knew all about clew-lines and buntlines, tacks and sheets, and the braces, and in less than two weeks most of the midshipmen could have told where any particular gear was belayed and how it was rove, whether it was the flying jib halyards, the weather cross-jack brace, or what it was. Outside of Chesapeake Bay the ship ran into half a gale, and plunged and rolled considerably. Ralph Osborn had the usual taste of seasickness, but after recovering he delighted in the experiences he was having.
One morning late in June while Ralph was looking at the gear that belayed at the fore fife-rail, Bollup came up to him and said: “Hello, Os, what’s that you’ve got in your hands?”
“This is the main to’ bowline. I remember your saying the first day I was aboard the Santee that Himski’s name was as long as the main to’ bowline.”