CHAPTER XXXIV
[THE END OF THE VOYAGE]
A gray dawn broke to seaward, and as the flash of the Navesink Light dimmed, and the bulk of the land defined itself in the lifting haze to the west, we picked up our pilot. In past the low spit of the Hook, up through the main ship channel and past the Narrows, we labored aloft, furling sail, giving it a harbor stow, while Mr. Zerk watched us with critical eyes.
The day was fine, warm sunshine welcoming us, and a strange unnatural brightness seeming to radiate from every nook and corner of the Fuller—she was groomed, polished, and triple polished for this very day. We brought up near Bedloe's Island, under the lee of the great statue, anchoring shortly after noon. The glitter of the tall buildings on Manhattan, and the busy harbor scenes, constantly called to our sea weary eyes. All hands went forward to a dinner of cracker hash, and a pale looking duff to which Chow had added an extra ration of molasses, black like tar, and a huge can of coffee; all of the tack in the bread barge was broken and mealy as if it had been searched for weevils before coming forward.
"To hell with this grub," growled Old Smith, as he filled his pannikin with coffee and lit his pipe. "I'm eating white man's tucker tonight. To hell with this, I can wait."
However, most of us were too hungry to wait; but the near approach of human victuals made our mouths water. All about the fo'c'sle bags and chests were hauled out from under bunks and benches and were being stowed.
"That looks like them!" Australia at the starboard fore channels was scanning several small boats coming out toward the ship. "I bet old pedlar O'Brien is coming out to make me a present of a watch," he said, at which we all laughed.
"Where are they?" a half dozen got up to watch the boats coming out from the Battery with interest.
"Are you going to stay by?" asked Frenchy. "If you've got any place to go to, don't leave, but stay by."