Harper's Round Table, March 16, 1897

by Various

BY JOHN HABBERTON.

Some boys, like some men, have greatness thrust upon them. Bruce Marvel became one of these boys one day to his own great surprise.

Bruce was a good shot with either rifle or shot-gun; he could pitch, catch, or strike a ball as well as any other boy of his age, and he could handle a horse better than some men who travel with circuses. Still, he had spent most of his life in an inland village where the largest body of water was a brook about six feet wide. It stands to reason, therefore, as boys are very like men in longing most for what is farthest from their reach, that Bruce's consuming desire, in the line of sport, was for a sail-boat and for water in which to sail it. He studied pictures of sailing-craft, which he found in a pictorial dictionary, until he could redraw any of them from memory; he learned the names of all the sails of a full-rigged ship, and he delighted in sea stories of all kinds, while he longed for the day in which he could see broad water and such boats as were moved by wind, and when he could sit in a boat and manage the sails and rudder.

Fortune finally seemed to favor him, for in his fifteenth year he was invited to spend a month at the sea-shore with an aunt of his mother's. As the aunt's family contained no men, it had no boats, so Bruce was sadly disappointed. But he was not of the kind that gives up when disappointment comes; he spent most of his waking hours in walking the beach of the little bay about which the town was built, looking at the boats, and scraping acquaintance with boys whose fathers owned boats; he kept up his spirits by hoping that in the course of time some one would invite him out sailing, and perhaps to take part in the management of a craft of some sort, Bruce cared not what, so that it had sails.

But sailing was anything but sport to the boys whom Bruce came to know, for most of these boys were fishermen's sons, to whom sailing meant hard, every-day work, of which they did not care to do more than was absolutely necessary for business purposes.

Yet Bruce learned some things about sailing, thanks to sharp eyes. He observed the fishing-boats and other small craft until he learned that almost anything that sailed would "go over" very far without capsizing. He thought he learned a lot about steering, too, although it puzzled him greatly that different vessels would sail in different directions while the wind blew from but one point of the compass. He determined to clear this mystery for himself, for nothing comes harder to a spirited boy than the displaying of ignorance by asking questions about matters which every one else seems to understand.

One day he climbed into a fishing-boat which a receding tide had left lying upon the sand. The little three-cornered sail in front of the mast, which Bruce knew was called a jib, had been left loosely flapping, as if to dry, while the owner sought refreshment and company near by. As many another man has done before him, the owner remained longer than he had intended; meanwhile the tide came up until it floated the vessel, so Bruce had rare fun at "trimming in" the jib-sheets, first on one side and then on the other, and in seeing the boat strain at her anchor, which was a big stone with a long rope attached.

Suddenly the wind began to come from the shore in hard puffs. Bruce trimmed in the jib very close, upon which the boat tugged furiously at her anchor; but she did the same when the sail was hauled close on the other side, so the make-believe sailor eased the sheet until the wind was directly abaft. Still the boat continued to strain; the anchor rope was old, so finally the friction caused by rubbing against the rail made the strands part suddenly; then the boat started for sea "on the wings of the wind," as Bruce afterward said.

The boy sprang to the rudder. At last he was really sailing! It was through no fault of his, either, as he carefully explained to himself, for how could he have known of the rottenness of that rope? He had some misgivings, for he was sure that he did not know how to turn the boat and sail back again against the wind; still, he was resolved to have a little fun before asking assistance from some passing boat. He had been in the village and along the shore long enough to know that the offing was usually alive with fisher-craft coming in or going out, and he had frequently seen boats towed by others; so he had no doubt that he would be helped back safely to the beach again.

Within a few moments he learned several facts about sailing; one was that by "easing" sheets freely while sailing under a jib alone, the sail will dispose itself at almost a right angle to the wind, so there need be but little work at the rudder. As to the larger sail, he did not trouble his mind about it, for not only was he in doubt as to how to use it, but his craft was going quite fast enough with such canvas as she was already carrying.