Up The Baltic; Or, Young America in Norway, Sweden, and Denmark

by Oliver Optic

Every boy in the squadron was a swimmer. In the summer season this accomplishment had been taught as an art, an hour being devoted to the lesson every day, if the weather was suitable. Cleats, the adult boatswain of the Josephine, was the “professor” of the art, having been selected for the responsible position on account of his remarkable skill as a swimmer. The boys were trained in diving, floating, swimming under water, and taught to perform various evolutions. Not alone in the tranquil bay were they educated to the life of the fishes, but also in the surf, and among the great waves. They were taught to get into a boat from the water in a heavy sea. A worn-out old longboat had done duty during the preceding summer as a wreck, in order to familiarize the students with the possibilities of their future experience. It was so prepared that a portion of its planking could be suddenly knocked out, and the boat almost instantly filled with water; and the problem was, to meet this emergency in the best manner. Other boats were at hand in case of a real accident, or if any naturally timid fellow lost his presence of mind. While the “wreck,” as the practice boat was called, was moving along over the waves, pulled by half a dozen boys, Cleats, without warning or notice of his intention, opened the aperture near her keel. Sometimes she was loaded with stones, so that she went to the bottom like a rock, though this part of the programme was always carried out on a beach, where the receding tide would enable the professor to recover the boat. The crew were then to save themselves by swimming ashore, or to another boat. Sometimes, also, the “wreck” was loaded with broken spars, pieces of board, and bits of rope; and the problem was for the crew to construct a raft in the water, often in a rough sea. All these exercises, and many others, were heartily enjoyed by the boys, and a ringing cheer always announced the safety of a crew, either on the shore, in a boat, or on the raft.

Many persons, and even those who are tolerable swimmers, have been drowned simply by the loss of their presence of mind. The dashing of the waves, or the great distance of the land or other place of safety, intimidates them, and they are unable to use their powers. But the students of the squadron were gradually and carefully accustomed to the water, so that they could swim a reasonable distance without wearing themselves out, could rest their limbs by floating, and were taught to avail themselves of any expedient to secure their safety. If a boat was stove on the rocks in a surf, or was run down by a vessel, the fact of being in the water did not frighten them out of their wits, for they had been trained to feel quite at home, as in their native element. They were actually drilled to confront danger in every imaginable form. But a gentle and timid boy was not pitched into the water, even after he had learned to swim. His constitutional shrinking was slowly and skilfully overcome, so that even the most delicate—though but few such ever found their way into the ranks of the squadron—took to the water as a pastime. Of course the degree of proficiency in the art of swimming, and of the acquired ability to meet danger in the water, differed very widely in different boys; but all were accustomed to the waves, and, in a measure, to leading the life of a duck or a fish.

The crews of the several boats piped over the side, and took their places, the rest of the students being distributed in the barges and cutters, till only the adult officers remained in the ship. Each one, as it was loaded, pulled off, and took its station in the order in which the boat squadron usually moved. The commodore’s barge and the ship’s first cutter, each twelve oars, led the van, while the other boats came in four ranks of three each. All the boats carried the American flag at the stern, and each one had its number at the bow. All the Young America’s boats had their numbers on a white, the Josephine’s on a green, and the Tritonia’s on a blue flag.

The tactics of the boat squadron were many and various, which had been adopted more to give interest to the exercise than for any inherent utility. These movements were regulated by signals from the commodore’s barge. Mr. Lowington had decided to make an excursion among the islands in the Fjord before dinner, and visit the town in the afternoon. A pilot was put in the commodore’s barge, and Captain Cumberland, as acting flag officer, was in command of the squadron. The principal and Professor Badois were passengers in his barge.

The cutters were formed in their usual array, and the two boats from the yachts brought up the rear. The signal officer, who was a quartermaster from the ship, at the order of the captain, elevated the white flag crossed with red, with which all the signals were made. The coxswains of the several boats could see this flag, while the oarsmen could not, being back to the barge, and not allowed to look behind them.

“Oars!” said each coxswain, as soon as the signal appeared.

At this command the several crews, who had been laying on their oars, prepared for the stroke. The signal officer dropped the flag to the port side of the barge.

“Give way!” added each coxswain; and the boat squadron moved off.

In order to keep the lines full, the larger quarter boat of the Grace had been borrowed and manned, and now took the place of the second cutter, which had been stove, and upon which the three carpenters of the squadron were now at work, making the necessary repairs. The fleet made a splendid appearance, with the flags flying, and with the officers and crews in their best uniforms. The people on the shore, and on board of the various vessels in the harbor, gathered to see the brilliant array. The crew of an English steamer cheered lustily, and the lady passengers waved their handkerchiefs. Suddenly the signal on the commodore’s barge went up again.

“Stand by to toss!” said the several coxswains, as the fleet of boats came abreast of the steamer, which was the Orlando, bound from Hull to Christiania.