On Board the "Rocket"

by Robert C. Adams

"'There's a boy overboard, sir,'" said I.

"'I don't care,' said he; 'let him help himself. If we don't get that fore-topsail bent we'll all be lost.'"

"While I stopped for this talk, a sea had washed the boy away, so I went up aloft.

"The sailors were so frightened at the force of the gale and flapping of the remnant of the old sail that they had all laid in off the yard, and wouldn't go out again. The old man came up and kicked them, and jumped on their heads as they stood in the rigging and top, but they wouldn't stir, and at last the second mate and I crawled out on the weather yard arm, and he lashed me on to the yard with a gasket, and then I cut away the old sail and hauled out the head of the new one, for the men came out when they found some one to take the weather earing.

"Old Johnson is dead now. They called him one of the smartest men that sailed out of New York, and he could always command his own wages, but I guess old Jimmy Squarefoot is putting him over the road now for—four bells! you don't say an hour's gone a'ready; you must want to turn in."

The cargo was discharged into lighters and stored on shore. Then the "Dublin" was hauled into the shipyard and her inmates, captain, two mates, cook and steward moved to boarding houses on shore. The ship was hove down on her side, caulked and sheathed, and all day long we stood on the rafts alongside and went through the form of watching the workmen. We had a vacation from the captain's society in the evening, except when I had to go up to his lodgings and write his business letters for him.

The beginning of January found the ship again loaded and ready for sea, only waiting for sailors, who were very scarce; partly so, because the captain had told so many fighting stories in the ship-chandlers' stores that the bad reputation the old crew had given the vessel had been confirmed and increased. The river froze over, and though a channel was kept open by steamers, this might be expected to close any night, and unless the ship desired to remain until spring it was time for her to leave. So she was towed down to an outer harbor through seven miles of ice and in a few days the captain joined her with a crew of young Swedes—no old sailors being willing to join the vessel. The river was now frozen entirely over, and even in this harbor ice had formed for two miles out amongst the islands towards the sea. Accordingly the captain made a bargain with the fishermen of the place to break out the ship, and they assembled in force with their ice boats. These were built with sharp bows which the men lifted and struck upon the ice, and as it gave way they jumped on to the boat. When a space had been cleared ahead of the ship, her fore-topsail was set, and she crashed along until brought up by the firm ice, when the boats again went to work while the ship held on by a line toggled into the ice astern. In this way we worked all of one day, and at its sunset found ourselves in open water; then we made sail and steered to the westward, delighted to be at last homeward bound.

Ten out of fifteen of the crew could not speak English and most of them were young men and very poor sailors. But they were "willing" and well disposed, and the knowledge of Swedish I had acquired in the long winter evenings enabled me to work ship with them quite easily.

The captain had not improved his opportunity to master the language, and it nearly drove him distracted when the men ran to the wrong end of the ship to execute an order. He tried on his "tantrums" at first, and issued his volleys of curses and blackguardism from the top of the after-house, but the sailors only turned and stared at him with their mouths open in wonder. He gave this up after awhile and we had quite a peaceable passage.