Frank Brown, Sea Apprentice

by Frank Thomas Bullen

While they were thus busily engaged they became aware of the presence of two new-comers, boys of about fourteen, in all the glory of their first uniform suits, who stood looking helplessly on at their energetic movements. And then the mate’s voice in the rear was heard saying, “Frank, these are the two new apprentices, Jones and Fordham. I know you’ll put them straight—they’ll be better off than you were, eh?” Frank flushed with pride, and resolved that he would behave differently to them, remembering his own early misery, and immediately took them in hand. If he was somewhat dictatorial and patronising, I am sure he was to be excused, for his help to them was invaluable.

So stoutly did he labour and drive them too that by five o’clock the little house began to look shipshape, the new-comers’ gear had been unpacked, their working rigs got ready; oilskins, sea-boots, mess-traps, all hung up and put ready for use, and they themselves were feeling more accustomed to their strange surroundings than Frank had been after a week at sea. The good it did them, too, was great, and all the more so because he was not conscious of it. Then, when all was done that he could do at that time, he sought the mate and inquired about their supper and whether they should stay ashore the night, as Hansen had offered to convoy them to the Sailors’ Home. Mr. Cope thought it would be a good idea, but first he called Hansen on one side and gave him a solemn warning to look after the lads and not let them get into any mischief.

“Mr. Cope,” replied Hansen, “I lofe dot boy like he bin mine own sohn, unt I rader lose mein life as let anyding happen mit him.”

“All right, Hansen,” rejoined the mate, “I believe you, in fact I know you’re a good chap; but last night ashore, you know.”

“Ah, sir,” said Hansen seriously, “last night all same as fust night, it don’t make no diffrunce mit me, I don’t never go unt make fool of mineselluf, ’tain’t good enough for me. Goot night, sir, we been abort goot unt early to-morrow.”

And off went the four through the foul byways of Shadwell towards Well Street, piloted by Hansen, who seemed to be thoroughly at home. I do not wish to linger over this part of my story, but I cannot help pausing a moment to point out that on that short journey of a little over a mile, and despite the extreme youth of two of the party, they were molested several times by brutal-looking men and rough unsexed women, who were prowling about those gloomy streets like wild animals in the jungle seeking their prey. But by great good fortune they escaped, Hansen declaring that if he had to make the same journey again he would take the main road for it, he wouldn’t run such a risk after dark again for anything.

It was a dreadful night, so after they had finished their supper in the Home they did not stir out again, but made themselves comfortable in one of the cosy reading-rooms, or roamed about the great building looking at the beautiful models and pictures until it was time to go to their cabins, which they did early, feeling tired out and remembering the early call that would be made on them in the morning.

And so well did they sleep that it was no easy task to get the youngsters under way again in the morning, as the steward said, the beds pulled so hard. But at seven o’clock they were all out in the fast-falling snow, which, however beautiful it is in the country, makes the poor streets of a big city dreadfully miserable, and turns the docks especially into places of horror. The appearance of the ship when they reached her sent a cold shiver through them, she looked so gaunt and wintry, and even Hansen the stolid said, “I hopes ve don’t go out this morning; I don’t like snow anyway.”

Frank said nothing, but he thought of his last putting forth and felt thankful that he was better prepared this time. And then as he reached the snow-drifted decks he saw the crew tumbling about in their drunken efforts to reach the fo’c’sle, and looking at Hansen he said, “I’m afraid, old man, some of us’ll be in bad trouble before we get to sea with this crowd.”

Hansen only shrugged his shoulders and passed on, while just at the moment Frank stumbled against Johnson, who had reached the ship the night before, and had put in a rather miserable time. Their greetings were cordial if brief, for the time of their departure was at hand, and all the usual confusion attendant upon getting a sailing ship out of a crowded dock was in full swing. In addition, of course, there was the nuisance of the drunken crowd, who simply could not be got to work, being indeed so bad that it was necessary to retain the services of several riggers, who had been working on board, to see the ship as far as Gravesend. That settled, matters eased a bit, the helpless crew were left alone to sleep off their drink, and the sober workers soon got the ship pointed into the river where the seagoing tug awaited her.