I hated the fore-and-aft canvas. I knew its value on short runs and in smooth seas, but when it comes to deep water and a rough old ocean, with a twenty-five-knot wind increasing to fifty, give me the square canvas with double topsails, that men can handle.
However, we were very fast. The Tanner could do fifteen knots free on a wind that would jam a square-rigger close and by. Her four masts were of the usual type, all the same, and her gaff-topsails were high on the hoist, giving her a tall appearance.
The first day under all sail, with the wind abeam, she rolled off thirteen and fourteen knots an hour, and kept her decks awash under a perfect torrent of foam, dragging her rail through a solid mass of suds. She simply ran, shoved her sharp nose out through it, and slipped over the long, smooth, rolling swell with a plunging lift that felt good.
The steam winches for handling line were good. With drums turning, all one had to do was to snatch the halyard in the deck block, grab a turn on the drum, and up went anything that could go. Then a stopper on the line, and to the belaying pin—and all was done. There was no hee-hawing, no singing of sailor's chanteys, no sailoring of the type we had known in our earlier days; but I am free to admit that I would rather have had the steam winches—especially when it came on to blow and we had to reef her down.
The Chinks were allowed on deck from eight bells in the morning until eight at night; and they were always getting in the way.
Miss MacDonald and her aunt came on deck most of the time, and sat wrapped in rugs near the wheel, where the old man entertained them with tales of the sea. They were greatly interested in the Chinamen.
I found my watch on the poop not at all disagreeable during daylight, for Miss Aline was good to look at. She was of medium height, with brown hair that curled in spite of the sea wind, and she was solidly and strongly built, her figure having lines that told of sturdiness rather than delicate beauty. But although she was not what one would call fat, or even stout, she was certainly not thin, and her rounded face was rosy with health.
Her mouth had a peculiar gentleness of expression, and when she showed her white teeth to me and flushed a bit upon recognizing the master handler of fluent oaths, I thought her about as good as they come. I was a bit embarrassed, but I was only second greaser, and as such could not sit at the table with her, so I said little.
I told Slade, however, that his hands were unfit to pass salt junk to a lady—and, for a wonder, he washed them in fresh water before going below! He was mate, and could sit in with the skipper, while I walked the deck above and made mental comments upon the irony of fate that shoved in a fellow like him to entertain a girl that he could not speak to without stammering like a drunken man, while I——-
It was in my watch during dinner that I had the first real chance to see our coolie boss. The second week, after things had settled themselves, and the routine of the ship took the place of the frantic scramble to get things shipshape, I stood at the break of the poop, which in the Tanner was very low—not more than four feet above the deck, as is the case in many schooners—and as I stood there up popped Yellow Dog, the giant Chink, from the door of the alleyway to starboard. The beggar was so tall that he was almost on a level with myself, in spite of the difference in the decks, and I found his eyes close to mine as he turned and saw me.