On Board the "Rocket"

by Robert C. Adams

One moonlight evening, when the trade-wind was driving us briskly along, we were sitting in our easy chairs on deck enjoying the romance of the sea, and the passenger asked me, if sailors always behaved well when they were well treated. In answer I told him the story of

AN EASY SHIP.

When a lad of nineteen years, in company with a friend of my own age, I made a voyage from Boston to Cronstadt and back to New York as passenger in the ship "Volant." She was a full-built vessel of about six hundred tons register and carried a crew of fourteen before the mast. The captain was a Swede named Nelson, a good natured, worthy man. Mr. Smith, the first mate, was an Englishman, a man with a very kind heart and easy disposition. The second mate, Mr. Kemp, was an old sea dog, hailing from New Hampshire. He was a hard drinker when on shore and appeared to be wholly destitute of ambition. His sea character depended entirely on that of his superiors. If they were severe he could be as great a tyrant as any one, and if they were inclined to take their ease he could be as quiet and unconcerned as though he had nothing to do with the ship. Of the sailors, five were Irish, three were "Dutchmen," two English, two American and two from Nova Scotia. They were of rather a low grade, but were for the most part a well disposed set of men, though half of them were very deficient in seamanship. For the first week of the passage they seemed very peaceable, with the exception of one man who called himself "Brock," and was one of the vilest sort of "Liverpool Packet Rats." He was always grumbling and cursing, no sailor, and a miserable shirk. His talk, by degrees, affected the others, the poison gradually spread and the rest of the crew became surly and discontented,—ready to join in with whatever "growl" Brock might start. It was hard to see what they could find fault with, for there was scarcely ever a "hurrah" or "bear a hand" uttered by the officers; the men took fifteen or twenty minutes to "turn out," and the mate had been forward the second night after leaving Boston, and had told the watch on deck that there was no need of more than one remaining on deck, and the rest might lie down on their chests in the forecastle and be ready for a call. The result was that the men usually stayed in their bunks all night.

The captain hardly ever opened his mouth in hearing of the crew. At seven o'clock in the morning he got out of his berth and came to the breakfast table. After winding his chronometer and taking the usual observation for longitude, he lighted his pipe and sat down to read the New York Herald, of which he had a large pile on the right hand side of his chair, and the voyage was principally devoted to building a pile on his left hand with the papers that had been read. The observation for latitude was taken at noon, then followed dinner, a smoke and a nap till about half-past four, and then came another smoke and supper. The evening was chiefly devoted to his pipe and the favorite newspaper, and if the weather was unsettled he sometimes appeared on deck once or twice in the night. It was seldom this routine was disturbed by anything more serious than an attack on him by his young passengers with boxing gloves or fencing foils.

When half way across the Atlantic the captain went on deck one evening to take a look at the weather before "turning in." Casting his eye to windward he saw that a heavy squall was about to strike the ship, and looking around for the second mate, he discovered that worthy fast asleep on the after bitts wholly unconscious of the two squalls that threatened him. The captain showed the possession of some temper by catching the sleeping officer by the neck and sending him sprawling to the deck. "You good-for-nothing," said he, "I didn't think an old sailor like you would serve me such a trick. Call all hands to shorten sail!" The second mate picked himself up and got to the forecastle as quickly as his confused senses would allow him, and called to the men to "tumble out" as quickly as possible. His own watch were in there as well as the watch below, and all were soundly asleep. They had got so accustomed to slow movements that even a squall would not hurry them much, but a few got out on deck and had just let go the top-gallant halyards and hauled down the flying-jib, when the squall struck the ship and laid her almost on her beam-ends, for she had a cargo of cotton and was very crank. The topsail halyards were then let-go, the spanker lowered and the ship was got off before the wind. The rain poured in torrents and the work of shortening sail was certainly not very agreeable. Through all the work Brock's voice could be heard swearing and grumbling,—"If any one ever asks me to go another Russian voyage," said he, "if I've got money enough to buy an old rusty pistol I'll shoot him." Several of the sails were split and two hours of the passage were lost by the second mate's nap. The captain thought best to keep a stricter eye on him after this and ordered that the watch on deck should keep out of the forecastle. For a few days they did so, but one by one they tried the experiment of going in there, and finding it created no uproar, they soon got back to old habits.

When four weeks out we passed the Orkney Islands and the same afternoon sighted Fair Island off the port bow. We passed within five miles of the Island, and two boats with six men in each pulled off to meet us. The men were small and thin and with only one exception had light complexions and sandy hair and beards. They came on board and begged, in whining tones, to be allowed to exchange their fish for bread and salt meat. After a trade, made very much in their favor, they produced woollen mittens and socks, knitted by the women of the island, and made another trade. These being exhausted they proceeded to beg, with a stock of appeals to charitable motives. When all the clothes had been obtained that seemed likely to be forthcoming, they asked for "rel-ee-gious books and tracts." Two days after this we made the Coast of Norway. Then beating against a head wind for two days more we got through the Skager Rack, passed the Scaw of Denmark, and steered through the Cattegat towards Elsinore.

The cook of the ship was a negro—a lazy, dirty fellow he was! Neither the captain nor the officers paid any attention to the state of things in the galley, except that the "old man" gave an occasional admonition to be economical, and "Cuffey" lived in ease and slovenliness. The "grub" was poorly cooked, and scanty at that; and the tea was so weak that when one night "Doctor," as the cook is always called, forgot to put any tea into the coppers, the men drank the warm water and molasses without any idea of the omission. A barrel of beef was intended to last twelve days at least, but owing to the gifts to the Fair Islanders the barrel at this time was about exhausted on the tenth day. The cook thought he could eke it out one day longer, and the consequence was that in the evening, "Bill," a short, stout Nova Scotian, with a very lugubrious countenance, marched aft carrying a large tin pan, containing a very small piece of boiled salt beef. The mate was standing by the weather-rail, just forward of the poop. Bill deposited the pan at his feet. Folding his arms he exclaimed in a very meek and mournful tone, "Mr. Smith, I wish you'd take a belaying pin and beat my brains out."

"What good would that do you?" said the mate.

"I'd rather die at once than starve to death," the sailor answered.