A bunch of rope yarns

by Stanton H. King

Before I close let me say what I think would improve the situation. First, abolish the forecastle as it is built to-day in one large room; put in its place fair-sized rooms, each to accommodate at the most four men. Let these rooms be known as the men’s quarters. Put in each room a clothes locker, in which clothes can be put away. Have these rooms sheathed, so as to protect them from the ice coated iron of the ship’s side and iron deck above. Also have a good ventilator and a comfortable steam heater in each room. Have a mess-room that will seat every man when the ship is in port, when all the crew are eating at the same hour. Have it put away from the men’s quarters. Let there be a man shipped to be known as the forward mess steward, his duty at sea and in port to care for the dishes, knives and forks which the ship should provide; hold him responsible for all the utensils, having him turn them over to the chief steward at the end of the voyage. Have him keep the mess-room and men’s quarters clean. Have a large bathroom and lavatory far away from the men’s quarters and mess-room, put in it lockers for oilskins and sea-boots—as many lockers as there are rooms; men in room No. 1 to use the corresponding numbered locker in the bathroom. The forward mess steward, or two stewards, if needed, must keep this bath clean and sweet. If the ship should be built for carrying cattle, have the cattlemen’s quarters in some part of the ship where they cannot interfere with the regular crew. Then there will be no danger of oilskins and clothing hung out to dry being stolen by the cattlemen.

I might write of some officers’ and engineers’ quarters, yes, and of captains also, and tell how miserably they are housed on some ships. On some of the steamers the officers and engineers find it a hard matter to get in and out of their rooms when the cattle are on board. May the day soon dawn when a sailor going on his ship will not have to think of pots, pans and spoons for use in a kennel, but will go expecting the treatment of the workingman ashore. Then the owners of vessels will be blessed by them where now they are cursed.

SUPERSTITIONS OF SEAMEN

Superstitions of Seamen

ALTHOUGH the ocean steamer has removed some of the superstitious ideas among seamen, still to this day there are hosts of sailors on steamships as well as on sailing vessels, who are filled with them. It is necessary to mingle freely with seamen to win from them their experiences of the strange apparitions they have seen and of the many Jonahs with whom they have been shipmates.

The landlubber has his superstitions as well as the sailor. Many of my strange notions came to me long before I started to sea. Born and brought up among the negroes in Barbados, rocked in a mammy’s arms, one of the first things I remember is the story of the obeah man told me by the faithful colored servants of my father. This ubiquitous obeah man was called on at all times by my nurse to help her in bringing me into a state of subjection. I believe such a being did exist. Often when a child I have listened to stories of the duppy (a ghost) and believing them I was afraid of the least noise I heard at night. Even to this day I find it difficult to overcome these superstitious ideas of my early boyhood days.

Some time ago a friend almost induced me to live in Everett, Massachusetts. I had made up my mind to pack my traps and move out there, but dear me! when I saw the trees in Woodlawn Cemetery through the back windows so close to the house, no amount of favorable reasoning could persuade me to live there. No wealth could entice me to walk alone through a graveyard at night. Not that I believe the dead can harm me, but simply there is a feeling that comes over me which I cannot master. I was told that if I were to point my hand or throw a stone at a ghost, the arm would stiffen and remain so forever. I believed this and had not the pluck to throw anything in the direction of a rustling noise at night. Fright and anger forced me to overcome it.

While serving on the U. S. S. Alliance, one of our shipmates died in “Rio”. His body was taken aft on the quarter deck and placed on boards resting on two ward room chairs. The American Ensign was spread over the whole. It was my anchor watch from twelve o’clock midnight, to four in the morning. There were four of us on watch, one from each part of the ship; namely, a forecastle man, a foretopman, a maintopman and an afterguard. The officer of the deck was lenient and allowed us to sleep on deck providing one man remained awake and watched near the corpse. The forecastle man, as he belonged to the forward end of the ship, was detailed to keep the first watch and we were to relieve each other hourly until our four hours were ended.

Being a maintopman it was my watch from two to three o’clock. At four bells the foretopman roused me from my slumbers where I had coiled myself on deck between the fife rail and mainmast. The officer of the deck was on the poop with the quartermaster; the Captain’s orderly had gone forward; I was standing forward of the corpse in close proximity to the after eight inch gun. I tried to think of everything except my duty. The very thought of being alone with a dead man, though there were living mortals close at hand, made me feel uneasy.

I had scarcely been ten minutes on watch when I observed the ensign covering the dead body move as though a cat or a dog were under it. A cold feeling came over me, my heart began to thump, I expected to see my departed shipmate stand up and hail me. The cold perspiration fell from my brow. I started to edge my way forward taking a backward step, when I saw a head peep out from under the flag. The handspikes belonging to the gun were under the gun carriage. I was tempted to haul one of them out and throw it at the ghost, but fearing my hand and arm would stiffen, I hesitated. Just then I heard a tittering on the opposite side of the deck, and looking in that direction I saw my watch mates and the Captain’s orderly laughing at my expense. I realized that a joke had been played on me, and angered through fright beyond self control, I quickly hauled out the heavy handspike and struck at the would be ghost. My aim was poor. I struck the chair at the foot of the corpse and the whole thing rolled over on deck. The anchor watch and Captain’s orderly quickly arranged the body on the boards and had just re-covered it with the flag, when the officer of the deck reached the break of the poop and inquired the cause of the disturbance. The forecastle man who had played the spectre, readily replied, “We’re catching a rat, sir!” My arm did not stiffen and since then I have thrown stones where I have heard strange noises at night, and struck at uncertain objects in the dark.