"Oh, give the lad some exercise, pilot," the skipper answered. "It won't hurt him."
"By the mark, five!"
We were running past the sea wall and the boathouse to starboard. I could see the lighthouse over the deck on the port bow. The tug was whistling, and as we swung to port, into the harbor proper, I noted the marine railway and the Pacific Mail Wharf with a lot of people on the Esplanade watching us come in.
"Mark under water, five!" I shouted.
"All right, Felix, come in; that'll do," said the skipper, and a few minutes later I found myself on the mizzen skysail, furling sail. We were brought to in the stream by letting go the port anchor and casting off the tug at the same time, and, as the chain rattled through the hawse pipes in a smoke of rust, a whistle on a factory ashore blew a long blast of welcome. It was noon, the harbor life suddenly stopped, for we missed the faint rattle of steam winches and the shouting of the Kanaka stevedores at the railroad wharf.
"Now give us a harbor furl, boys," called up the mate. And as we worked away, we noted the captain going ashore in the whale boat with the pilot. Below us stretched the most beautiful city in the world; cool looking green palm trees lined the streets, the fat squat outline of the Punchbowl rose gratefully verdant behind the little city, a restful sight to our sea-weary eyes, and far beyond we looked up into the misty vista of the Nuuanu Valley. Stranger still, on the wharves we noted native and white women in their fresh looking white dresses, and we could hear the cries of children at play.
Laying down from aloft we squared yards, and went below for our dinner of pea soup and pork, with a kid of cabin tack—a piece of strategy on the part of Chow that was truly an inspiration. The sight of weevils, and the near view of the clean sweet shore, would have been too great a contrast.
We opened hatches that afternoon, ready for the port warden's inspection, ripping out the caulking of oakum and taking off the three layers of tarpaulin, but not lifting the covers. We also sent down the fore and main courses and tops'ls, and cockbilled the main yard for a cargo boom, rigging the cargo pendant from the main topmast head, the same being stayed out over the main hatch by a fall from the fore topmast cross trees.
At four o'clock the captain returned with a boatload of fresh provisions, joints of clean red meat, fresh vegetables, onions, green stuff, bananas and pineapples, and a big basket of real baker's bread, the loaves rich and mellow in the sunlight, like bricks of gold. How our eyes popped out at the sight and smell of this treasure cargo from the shore! Our salt ridden senses were starved for something fresh and clean. A dozen hands rushed to the side to help unload the boat, passing the grub up the ladder and carrying it in to Chow.