A bunch of rope yarns

by Stanton H. King

It was at this particular time that Cape Town had forgotten to put his bag below and when the “first luff” spotted it under the forecastle head, he ordered it to be put into the lucky bag. This was not the only time that the jaws of the lucky bag had closed on Cape Town’s belongings, for on several occasions during the cruise he had to scrub the copper on the bottom of the sailing launch while others were loitering around the decks, as a punishment for having his traps enter there.

Not only during the executive officer’s inspection, is the lucky bag fed. It may be in the afternoon when all hands are called by the boatswain’s mates to “stand by your scrubbed and washed clothes.” At such a call every man who has clothes on the lines is expected to get on deck and remove them. Should some fellow who doesn’t heed the call allow his clothes to remain on the lines, the officer of the deck will order them put into the lucky bag unless some shipmate is kind enough to care for them, which is often the case.

Such confiscated clothing is occasionally kept in the “brig” (a cell for punishment) and if there is not an over abundance, such articles may be allowed to remain there even though a prisoner is doing a short sentence of five days bread and water.

While there is an order on a war vessel that every man shall have his name stamped on his clothes, there are men who evade it and do not mark everything. Sometimes the paint which was used in stamping the name is so worn by washing that it is illegible. Therefore, if such a piece of clothing finds its way to the lucky bag the owner will let it stay there, for he knows that if he claims it he will have to do some extra police duties or be classed. His best plan is to await his time. Some fellow may soon be sentenced to the brig, among the contents of the lucky bag, and may clandestinely secure it for him. At any rate he can look forward to the day when the auction sale of the lucky bag takes place and then buy his own clothes.

I remember having a blue flannel shirt made. It was valuable, for the sailor who made it had put on fancy silk stars on the collar, the tape was neatly stitched, the best of silk had been used. Just before inspection the tailor handed it to me. I had not time to go below and shove it into the mouth of my clothes bag, so I lifted the flap of the hammock cloth and pushed it between the cloth and the ship’s side. The bulge it made in the hammock cloth caught the “first luff’s” eyes; he put his hand under the painted canvass and hauled out my Sunday mustering shirt. Fresh from the tailor’s hands, it found its way to the lucky bag. There was no name on it to tell who was the owner, and as I had many extra hours of police duty to do for other misdemeanors, I held my peace and let the “go shore” shirt remain confiscated.

Good luck came my way sooner than I had hoped. The captain of the afterguard was sentenced the next day to do five days bread and water in the brig for being insolent to the officer of the deck. The contents of the lucky bag were pushed into one corner of the cell while the prisoner had the remaining portion of the iron brig to himself.

Here was my opportunity. I sneaked on the opposite side of the sentry and placed my mouth close to the small perforated holes in the iron walls of the brig and begged my incarcerated shipmate to overhaul the lucky bag and find my shirt. Although it was dark he managed to find the garment, so at seven bells the next morning, when he was brought on deck to have a bath, he tucked it under the folds of his shirt and left it on the forecastle head where I secured it.

About once in every two or three months the master-at-arms is ordered to bring the contents of the lucky bag on deck. Standing in the port gangway he holds up the various articles to the view of the crowd around him and asks for bids.

It was prearranged before the sales on our ship, that if any man shouted distinctly the words, “I will offer” in making his bid we were not to bid against him, for we knew that “I will offer,” meant it was the bidder’s own things. In this way we bought and rebought our own clothes during the cruise rather than be punished for our negligence.

Sometimes the clothing was marked, when the owner was reported, and would find no escape from cleaning the bottom of the sailing launch. Again, he might be on friendly terms with the master-at-arms or ship’s corporal, and in a begging attitude have him give them up without being reported, or he might approach the officer of the deck and be diplomatic in framing an excuse so as to win his favor and have the lucky bag give up its treasure.