Presently, the skipper shouted out something about “making it eight bells,” whereupon Jorrocks took hold of a marlinspike, which he had seemingly ready for the purpose, striking eight sharp, quick blows on a little bell hanging right under the break of the little topgallant fo’c’s’le, with which the old-fashioned coaster was built.
“That’s the pipe down to dinner,” he said to us in explanatory fashion. “Come along o’ me, and I’ll introduce you to yer messmates in proper shipshape way!”
Thereupon, we both followed Jorrocks into the dark little den in the fore-part of the vessel, with which Tom had first made acquaintance the night we went on board, after escaping from Dr Hellyer’s, now four days since—a long while it seemed to us, although only so short an interval, from the experiences we had since gained, and our entirely new mode of life. The place was small and dark, with bunks ranged along either side, and a stove in the centre, at which one of the hands, selected as cook, was just giving a final stir to a steaming compound of meat, potatoes, and biscuit, all stewed up together, and dubbed by sailors “lobscouse.”
Most of the crew I already knew, from my visits to the brig during vacation time; but, Tom being a comparative stranger—albeit all of them had witnessed the “striking proof” of the honour the skipper considered our coming on board had done him—Jorrocks thought best to introduce us in a set speech, saying how we were “a good sort, and no mistake”; and that, although we were the sons of gentlemen, who had “runned away from school,” we were going to shake in our lot with them “like one of theirselves.”
This seemed to go down as well as the stew, of which we were cordially invited to partake, that disappeared rapidly down our famished throats; and, thenceforth, we were treated with that good fellowship which seems natural to those who follow the sea—none attempting to bully us, or take advantage of our youth, and all eager to complete our nautical education to the best of their ability. Perhaps this was principally on account of Jorrocks constituting himself our friend and patron, and keeping a keen eye on our interests in the food department, so as to see that we had a fair share of what was going; but, at any rate, thus it was, for, with the exception of the skipper, we had no reason to complain of the treatment of any one on board the brig, from the time we joined her in the surreptitious manner I have described, to the moment of our leaving her.
Towards evening, the wind shifting more to the westwards and bearing on our quarter, the yards had to be braced round a bit and the jib sheet hauled in taut to leeward, giving Tom and me an opportunity of showing our willingness to bear a hand. Otherwise, however, until we arrived at Newcastle there was little to do in the way of trimming sails, as the wind was fair all the way, giving no occasion for reefing or furling canvas until we got into port. I don’t believe, either, we were out of sight of land once during the progress of the voyage; for, the skipper, like the commanders of most coasting craft, hugged the shore in navigating to and fro between the different places for which he was bound, never losing sight of one prominent landmark or headland till he could distinguish the next beyond, in the day-time, and steering by the lighthouses and floating beacons, by night.
If times had been easy for us so far, when we arrived at Newcastle we had terrible work to balance our good fortune in this respect.
Talk of galley slaves! no unfortunate criminals chained to the oar in the old days of that aquatic mode of punishment ever went through half what poor Tom and I did at this great coal centre of the north—none at least could have suffered so much in body and spirit from the effects of a form of toil, to which the ordinary labour of a negro slave on a Cuban plantation would be as nothing!
The skipper never allowed us once to leave the vessel to go ashore, although all the other hands went backwards from brig to land as it seemed to please them, without any restraint being apparently put on their movements; but, whether our stern taskmaster was afraid of our “cutting and running” before he had his pound of flesh out of us, or whether he feared being called to account under the terms of the Merchant Shipping Act for having us on board without our names being on the brig’s books as duly licensed apprentices, when he might have been subjected to a penalty, I know not. The fact remains, that there he kept us day and night as long as we remained taking in a fresh cargo of coals. We never once set foot on land during our stay in port.
And the work!