During the days that followed, the boys saw little of Captain Hollinger. He was largely occupied with getting everything running smoothly aboard ship, during his watches on deck, and except at mealtime he kept to his stateroom at work over maps and papers.
Mart's work was extremely nominal, although necessary. He had few messages to send out and invariably directed that answers be sent at a given time of day, so that he had little more than four hours of work each morning. Bob usually stuck close to the wireless house at this time, and in fact the boys made it a sort of headquarters during the day. It stood back of the chart house on the lower bridge, and the second mate or old Jerry Smith would spend many a "watch below" with them. Swanson, however, kept surlily to himself.
"Liverpool" Peters, the second mate, was a pleasant young Britisher who had been at sea practically all his life, while old Jerry was full of odd ways and tales which delighted both boys, though it was seldom that he would open up to them. He seemed to take a great fancy to Mart, and often when the boys were alone he would wander up, fill his cutty pipe, and settle down for a chat.
The crew was a strange lot. Of the nine men, five were brown-skinned Kanakas, but the other four were white, and seemed to be all old men, though they moved about spryly enough. Dailey was wrinkled and leathery, Birch had only one very black and sparkling eye, Yorke's mouth was twisted into a perpetual smile, and Borden was a quiet little man like old Jerry, gray-haired and respectful.
"They're a queer lookin' bunch," observed Bob one morning, as they left the wireless house and went forward to the bridge, watching the men sluicing down the decks forward.
"You bet," nodded Mart, laughing with sheer enjoyment of the blue sky and bluer ocean. "Where'd you pick 'em up, Jerry?"
Both boys turned to the quartermaster, who was at the wheel in the little house behind them. He smiled, as watches were changed and Dailey came up to relieve him.
"Where'd I find them, Mart? Oh, I just ran across 'em. Dailey, here, used to be on a ship wi' me, once." He looked around, and the leathery seaman grinned slightly.
"Who'll do the diving?" asked Bob, as they walked back to the wireless house and flung themselves into deck chairs, while old Jerry filled his pipe.
"Two o' the Kanakas, lad. They're main good at that."