The Strife of the Sea

by T. Jenkins Hains

It was during one of these calm spells that the captain began to formulate a plan which would bring him in closer contact with the great bird which still soared and circled about the ship. He rigged a trolling line with a bit of wood for a float near the hook. Then he baited it with a piece of salt beef and tossed it over the side.

The ship was barely moving, but still had headway enough to get away from the bait. When it was fifty fathoms astern the captain held the line and waited.

The albatross soon sighted the piece of beef and circled slowly toward it. Then as it floated in clear view he settled upon the surface of the sea and paddled up to it and gave it a chop. He cut away half the beef, but missed the hook, and the captain’s jerk upon the line merely pulled it from him. He made another grab, and as he did so the line tautened and the barb of the hook caught under his beak.

Hand over hand the captain hauled him in. He spread forth his wings and backed water hard with his feet, but the seaman kept a steady strain upon the line and prevented the hook from slipping clear. Soon he was directly under the ship’s counter, and as she squatted down into the hollow of a swell the captain quickly hauled the bird over the rail to the deck.

Inside the poop-rail it was impossible for the albatross to get headway enough to rise into the air, the wind was so unfavorable in the shelter. While he might waddle about upon the white planks it was as impossible for him to get away as though he had been chained by the leg. It was most provoking to be in such an absurd position. The man at the wheel grinned at him, and the mate came up to take a better look at close quarters. He stretched forth his wings and tried to rise by a series of powerful strokes, but it was in vain. He only managed to go plunging into the rail before he got his feet clear of the planks. This made him angry and he snapped at the mate, making a savage chop with his great beak, which came together with a loud clap. But the seaman jumped aside, and the captain admonished him to keep away.

Gradually the feeling of being upon a floating thing with other creatures seemed less strange. It was remarkable how different the ship was now that he was on board it from what it appeared while he was a few fathoms in the air. Yet he had followed it so long that he had become accustomed to it, and the unpleasant sensation of becoming suddenly a prisoner aboard gave place to that of curiosity. The captain brought some choice fat and ordered the steward to keep the slush from the coppers as clean as possible and give the stranger as much as he wished. After eating several pounds he lost for the time all desire to get away and waddled about the quarter-deck perfectly satisfied with the sudden change in his condition.

The ship’s dog rushed up and made a savage attack, and for a few minutes the great bird was frightened, for the noise was distracting and a sudden bite gave him pain. Then the captain dragged the animal away and gave the newcomer a choice piece of salt pork to make up for the lack of courtesy shown by the dog.

There was much of the dog’s spirit aboard the ship, although it was not manifest to the albatross. Among the men forward were several who had much the same feeling for their fellows. Under the cover of bluff and honest exteriors they concealed dispositions like that of the dog. They were a type of what is known as “sea lawyer,” and were always dwelling upon the grievances of sailors and the rascality of mates and masters. Close and intelligent observers would have noticed at once that the faults their leader saw in others were the ones rising to the surface in himself and which he was trying to conceal. He was saturnine, and his ugly little eyes held an unpleasant look every time he came in the vicinity of either the mate or captain. The second officer was in the other watch and therefore not often about to give him orders.

As the vessel gradually made her way southward and the hardships became more trying with the colder weather, the feeling aboard among the men who listened to the grumbler became more sinister. The captain was not such a man as to let things go unnoticed, but as long as there was no direct disobedience of orders he took no action and let the mate warm up the discontented men with extra work, for it is well known that hard work will do more for an ugly crew than any medicine.

The captain spent much time on deck and made a pet of the bird he had captured. He was a generous man and lonesome among the rough fellows who made up the crew, for his position forbade any intercourse whatever with anyone except his first officer. Even this seaman, able and intelligent as he was, could not be made more of than a slight acquaintance. Such is the rule aboard deep-water ships, for discipline must be enforced if safety is to be considered.