Frank Brown, Sea Apprentice

by Frank Thomas Bullen

The ship having been pumped out, all the necessary sail bent, all the running gear made as fit as possible, Captain Jacks said to Frank, “My dear boy, we’ll devote all our energies now to getting her home. She’s doin’ splendid, but there’s a tough time coming. With all luck we shall fetch the English Channel just as the winter is beginning to try its hand at a few gales to start with, and we can’t be too careful to save ourselves up for that. I don’t mind telling you that I’m mighty anxious over this; if it comes off all right I’m going to quit the sea for good, and settle down on a tiny little farm somewhere in England. I’m done up, sick to death of the constant brutality that I’ve always practised up till now, and also sick to find that if I hadn’t learned a little better this voyage, I couldn’t go on doing what I have done in that line, because I’m not strong enough now. I’m fifty years of age, and sometimes I feel a hundred. Do you know, Frank, I feel as if I’d like to be a good, quiet, religious man, and forget all about the old roaring, fighting, cursing life I’ve led. And, please God, if this adventure of ours pans out all right, I’ll have a tremendous go at it.”

Frank will never forget that conversation. The ship, carrying as much canvas as she could stagger under, plunged forward over the rising sea with a gallant, easy motion, and the great grey masses of cloud came rolling up from the southward in majestic battalions, ever reinforced from the gloomy horizon. The cold light fell full on Mr. Jacks’ face as he stood speaking, and Frank, looking earnestly at him, noted that he seemed to have suddenly aged, the hard lines of his features had softened, and the grim look of determination, almost ferocious in its expression, was replaced by an almost pitiful appearance of weakness.

So forcibly did this strike Frank, that he said anxiously, “Are you quite well, sir?”

A ghost of a smile curled the corners of the hard mouth as the skipper replied, “Oh yes! I suppose I am. Nothin’ the matter with me that I know of, except that, as I said, I’m tired, feel I want to take things easy. Well, I hope I can look forward now to as long a rest as I want. In the meantime, here goes for what I can get now. Carry on as long as you can, but don’t carry anything away if you can help it. Call me if you feel you must, but not unless, for I think that you can handle her now as well as I can, and I want you to feel all confidence. Keep her as she goes, it’s a good course enough, N.E.” And down he went.

Left to himself, Frank began to meditate with a swelling heart upon the wonderful change in his prospects. Mr. Jacks no longer filled his thoughts, but he dwelt with perfectly legitimate pride upon the fact that he, a youth not yet eighteen, was in a position of great trust and responsibility. Of profit in a commercial sense he had no idea; probably he was the only person on board of either the Woden or the Sealark who had not as yet bothered his head over the possibilities of money-making presented in this latest adventure of his.

Lest it should be accounted as too offensively heroic on his part thus to ignore the financial side of things, let me remind you that he had as yet never known the need of money. Never had he felt that craving for those few coins that are as absolutely necessary for satisfying the gnawing needs of the stomach as for clothing the body. Nor had he, because of his happy youth and keen love of the sea, yet had time to realise the bitter anxiety about the future, which haunts men who work hard for their living and are yet entirely unable, owing to the scantiness of their pay, although always at work, to make provision for the old age they see dogging their footsteps like some dread spectre.

At present he was free from all such sad prevision, free to let his fancy soar into contemplation of himself, as a great commander of men, doing things upon the deep that should cause his name to be spoken of all over the world. Again, fortunately for his peace of mind, he did not realise that unless something extremely sensational happens, the greatest men of the British mercantile marine—and they are on such a high level of excellence that it is difficult to fix upon any as higher than the rest—may pass their lives of splendid usefulness to their country and their fellow-men without any recognition by either state or public. Their own cloth know and admire them, and with that they must needs be satisfied.

And so Frank paced the deck, manfully keeping his watch, and staggering now and then as the driven ship began to leap and roll to the rapidly rising sea, through which she was being driven at an ever-accelerating rate. The wind came in fierce snarling gusts, making every portion of the great framework of masts, yards, sails, and rigging crack and complain, while the Finn at the wheel began to glance uneasily at the young officer who strode to and fro in such apparent unconcern.

At last, when it wanted about an hour to eight bells, Hans could stand it no longer, but said sullenly, as Frank neared him in one of his turns, “You goes to blow de masts outen der ship, ain’t it?”

Frank flushed up, but wisely did not answer. Only he wished now for eight bells to come quickly, as he could then hand over his charge without the danger of coming into collision with this man, who was either frightened, or else afraid that after he was relieved it would be “All hands shorten sail,” and he would be let in for a lot of work, instead of standing quietly looking on.