It was, without question, the proudest moment in Jack’s life when the boat was gently pushed off the sandy bank of Cow Creek. Jack’s father was there to see it, having left his bookkeeping for the occasion.
“I’d like to go with you on your first trip, lad,” he said, “but I’m afraid I can’t spare the time.”
Sailing was an old accomplishment for both the captain and his young mate, but most of their experience in that direction had been gained in dories, which compared with taking the Sea-Lark out on a trip was child’s play. The Sea-Lark was not, however, too large for two to handle. Other sloops even larger were wont to flit about the waters of Greenport harbor in the summer with only two persons aboard, and there was one, fifty feet over all, which one man usually handled alone. She, however, was a “freak” ship, and her owner had to dance around like a pea in a hot frying-pan when an emergency arose.
Tony Santo accompanied the boys on their experimental trip, partly because there was a long, winding journey for the sloop to make down Cow Creek, through the upper reach of the Sangus River, and finally through the canal. Partly, also, Tony went to make sure that they were all right. And partly he went for the fun of the thing, because Tony was only twenty years older than his son, and there was enough of the boy left in him to appreciate some of the thrill which was stirred in the lads by this their greatest adventure.
A westerly breeze was blowing, which necessitated the sloop being towed until she came to within about four miles of the sea, and then a clear run lay before them. Their dory trailed behind and Tony took the spokes of the sloop’s wheel in his hands.
“Now, lads,” he said. “Let’s shake out a bit of canvas. Mains’l first. Don’t get excited. Take it easy. There’s plenty of time. Both together. Heave! That’s the style. It wasn’t so hard, after all, was it? Either one of you will be able to do that by himself if necessary. And it may be necessary too, some day. Belay there. Make those halyards good and secure. Now, up with the jib. Be smart, or we’ll run her aground yet. Trim aft the jib-sheet. That’s fine. Belay!”
The breeze filled the sails, and the sloop leaned over slightly as she gathered way. Jack’s eyes were dancing with pleasure. The Sea-Lark was not only an accomplished fact and afloat, but actually sailing. And he was her master!
“Isn’t she a beauty!” he asked Tony.
“Pretty fair, pretty fair, I’ll admit that,” replied the boat-builder. “You’re a lucky lad to have her, but you’ve earned her. I dare say Mr. Farnham would have given the sloop to any one else if they had thought of writing to him; only it was you who happened to think of it, and it’s the people who think of things who get on in this world. Now, this good-for-nothing son of mine,” and he took George affectionately by the ear, “never thinks of anything except to get up in the morning and go back to bed at night; do you, son? Come along, Jack. I know you’re aching to get to this wheel. I guess it’s quite safe for you to take her now.”