"Get your breakfast!" shouted the mate as soon as the sand was on deck, and we went forward with the whole ship in a mess—gear on the pins, deck wet, and two barrels of mysterious sand at the main hatch.
"By ——, he's got me," confessed Hitchen; "whatever the bloody bitch has up his sleeve is a new one."
"Joe was wise; that's what he was, wise. And say, that little hipercrite Jimmy, was he wise? Well, ast me, will you, after tonight? I'll bet something is doing, and something very fine. We been having our fling too much. The hell with these American working wagons!"
"Aw, shut up, Brenden, will you? For Gawd's sake, have some feelin's for us. Look at Fred; he's too tired to eat."
The reaction from our high spirits of the last few days was complete. We sat around dejected after breakfast, and it was with a feeling of relief that we heard the bull-like roar of the mate urging us to turn to. This summons reverberated across the harbor, and must have advertised us as a packet of strife.
Things were not long in abeyance. We were ordered to wet down decks again and spread the sand on the main deck as far forward as the windlass. Old Smith, Frenchy, Brenden, and Martin were told off to lend a hand to Chips. The first lengths of the chain cables were stoppered just abaft the wild cats, and by means of handy billys and chain hooks we roused up long bights of the rusty cables and ranged them along the deck, constantly wetting down and sprinkling sand to protect the planks. This was no easy job; in fact we worked like slaves at the back-breaking labor, having something like a hundred fathoms to handle on each anchor. The night after this started our band went out of business, for we all turned in.
Mr. Zerk was positively cheerful during the second and last day of this job. When we had completed hauling out the chain, made of great links a half foot long, and strengthened by a heavy stud, he descended to the chain locker, while I went with him carrying the lantern. We found very little dirt in the locker, and that also seemed to please the mate. The whole operation, aside from furnishing us considerable exercise, did no particular good, nor for that matter harm.
I was glad of the opportunity to see the thing done, an interesting piece of work from the standpoint of the student of seamanship. The ends of the cables were passed through heavy ring bolts on the keelson and then were carried up and secured by a stout lashing to rings in the knight heads. This method of securing made it possible to slip the cables by casting off the ends and letting them go by the run, as the ends are always in sight. The necessity for slipping cables comes very seldom, but when it does have to be done the safety of the ship and all on board depends upon the ability to let go quickly and without a hitch. During this work we examined the markings on the chain. At the links next to the shackles, that separate the different shots of the cable, turns of wire are placed on the studs so that in running out the cable the shackles can be examined as they go over the wild cats, and the length of chain out determined. Large swivels are also provided for taking out the turns when a vessel swings completely around in a tide way. Where two anchors are out, and the chains become twisted, we have the necessity for "clearing the hawse," an old time honored operation performed by the voyagers in the days of Columbus when hawsers were used. The hawse pipes still retain their name though great chain cables are now employed.
The labor of stowing the cables was less painful than that of rousing them up as gravity worked with us.
On the night we finished this job we received word that the ship was to go alongside again the next day, and again we were glad of the change. That the system on board was a good one cannot be denied. We were always glad that some disagreeable piece of work was done, and, except for the croakers, who were always predicting trouble—and were always right—we were a very contented lot of men. It also happened that in the scheme of things no part of the ship was ever neglected, and the owners received full value in the care of their vessel for the wages that were slowly accruing to us.