Father had Johanssen’s body sewn up in sailcloth and it was buried in the potter’s field in Sydney.
Stitches told me of a foolhardy sailor in the islands dragging his arm over the side of a dinghy going ashore. A nurse shark came up unexpectedly and caught the trailing arm. The sailor either was dragged, or in his fright fell out of the boat. There was a swirl of bloody water and the man was gone. Then, attracted by the blood another huge shark came alongside and scraped the dinghy trying to overturn it. Stitches and the remaining sailor had a hard time getting the boat safely ashore.
Such are the habits of man-eating sharks.
9
In which I learn to take a joke. Hoping you may do the same
We were nearing the Equator bound south from Puget Sound. Father, the mate, and I were eating our noon meal, “onion bouillon” (one bucket of water with one onion in it), rice with curry sauce and boiled tapioca with pale lavender cornstarch sauce. The Jap cook delighted in coloring the food to make it appear more appetizing than it was.
Father and the mate were discussing our position on the chart.
“We ought to make the crossing along about four bells this afternoon, Mr. Swanson. Better get the big hawser out and stretch it on deck in case we need it.”