Frank Brown, Sea Apprentice

by Frank Thomas Bullen

“Now, Cope,” said the skipper quietly, “this is a bad business, especially coming on top of the other, but the first thing is to locate the fire without alarming the chaps. They’re pretty good, but this is calculated to put the fear of God into the best of men who cares what becomes of him. You see the hold’s full of smoke by the way it’s pouring into the cabin, and going down to see is out of the question, so now the only thing to do is to bore through the three hatches, after plugging up all the ventilators, and then lead the monkey pump down the hole that the most smoke comes out of, and try and drown it out. Updraught is what we have to fear most, as long as we can keep it smothered it will only smoulder, and we may drown it; of course, we can’t do anything with the gas—as far as that is concerned we must trust to God’s mercy. Luckily she’s an iron ship. Can you fasten off aloft so as to keep the bit of sail we are carrying safe, and set all hands free to pump for their lives?”

“Oh yes, sir,” cheerfully answered Mr. Cope, “a couple of hours at the outside will enable us to carry the fore and main lower-topsails and the lower staysails and spanker. With this breeze she ought to make Anjer in a week like that.”

The skipper sighed heavily as if seeing nothing at Anjer but safety for his crew, for there was little hope there of saving his ship, he felt, and that is always the chief concern of every skipper worth his salt. But he only said, “All right, Cope, make all the haste you can to get finished aloft, while Chips and I will see about these hatch-holes.”

The absence of any fuss or symptoms of alarm did just what was needed to prevent any undue worry on the part of the men, although they could not help casting an occasional regretful glance to where the boats had been, and it was equally impossible for them to help now and then looking at the spiral of smoke still ascending, a symbol of the most fateful significance. But they worked with the utmost docility, and Frank could not help remarking to Hansen, “What a wonderful adventure we are having, to be sure.” Hansen only grunted and looked pityingly at the eager face of the youth apparently so unable to realise the danger of the situation.

Very soon the loose ends had been secured aloft, and the men coming down were called aft to rig the hand-pump, a quaint old machine used for washing decks, but capable of throwing a good stream of water with four hands to the brakes. The skipper and carpenter had found that a much fiercer volume of smoke ascended from the hole they had cut in the main hatch than anywhere else, and, moreover, there, as they well knew, the coal rose nearer to the main deck, being as usual piled amidships for stowage purposes, making the ship easier in a seaway. So with the suction-hose trailing overboard and the discharge-pipe pointed down the small hole bored in the main hatch, the weary task of pumping water into the ship was begun, and before long the escape of steam from various places showed that the incoming water had reached at least a portion of the fire.

Then the most careful stoppage of every outlet was effected, and the skipper said with an air of relief, “Well, the steam will help to choke the fire anyhow, although Heaven knows how much there is of it.” Except for this quiet remark to the mate, Captain Jenkins might to all appearance have been dealing with one of the most ordinary incidents of a sailor’s career. He felt rather than knew how closely he was being watched by his men, who at a time like this reflect in a remarkable degree the character of their commander.

Now, of course, all work that could be avoided was stopped in order that the labour of all hands might be concentrated upon the one needful thing, subduing the fire. It was found that one watch could manage to keep the pump going and do the steering without undue pressure on the men, while the boys and the officers could do a little aloft in adding some lighter sails to those they had been able to set. So that for two or three days the water was steadily poured into her until she began to settle so low that the captain decided it was dangerous to flood her any more.

And yet the fire was obviously not subdued, for, as soon as the ventilating hole was opened, smoke as well as steam burst forth, and, moreover, the ship felt dangerously hot. However, the weather remained beautifully fine and the sea quite smooth, with steady Trades, before which the waterlogged Sealark crept gradually northward, and the crew, released from the pump, were kept busy adding to their makeshift appliances aloft, but without affecting her speed much, she being now so deep in the water.

But for the whole week never a sail did they see. Then there crawled up to them a vessel which had evidently been through a similar stormy experience to their own, for she looked very much as they did aloft. Slowly the new-comer ranged alongside of them, revealing herself as the four-masted barque Windhover of London, having lost fore and mizzen topmasts and maintopgallant masts, also a goodly portion of her bulwarks, but having all her boats.

She came near enough to speak through the megaphone, and condolences were duly exchanged, while the new-comer naturally inquired whether the Sealark had sprung a leak. When he was told the dread truth he immediately offered one of his lifeboats, for, as he said, “You never know what may happen in a case of that kind, and at present you’re very like rats in a trap. Without a boat or anything whatever on deck that you can make a raft of—it’s too bad.”