Round the Galley Fire

by William Clark Russell

“‘There’s nothing to be done,’ answers Bill, ‘except to turn in and take our chance. It won’t do for us to take command of the barque. If there’s to be a mess, let it find the skipper boss, not us. I don’t want no magistrate’s job, for one. We’re but common sailors, and common sailors have but a poor chance now when it comes to law, and the fight’s between them and the captain.’

“This was a middlin’ sensible view; but still, life’s life, and I couldn’t quite see my way to turn in aboard a drifting ship, and take our chance of all going well throughout the night. So, calling old Drainings, who was getting his senses and beginning to understand the muddle we was all in, we lighted our pipes and had a long confab, the end of it being an agreement that the three of us should keep a look-out, turn and turn about. There was to be no steering—nothing but looking. Well, I kept the first look-out, and in all them hours I never see either the captain or the mate on deck. The breeze was small, and the ship lay steady enough, her topsails aback and her staysails drawing. Two or three steamers drove past, and I’m pretty sartin they’d have been into us if I hadn’t taken the precaution to get the side lights over. Bill relieved me at six bells, we having settled for his turn to follow mine, so as to give Drainings time to sleep off the rest of the rum that worked in his system. When I went below the fo’ksle was as hot as an oven, such a smell of liquor about as would have made you think yourself in a public-house, and all hands snoring so loud that you might have reckoned the barque was sailing ten miles an hour, and that noise the sound of the water rolling away from her stem. I turned in all standing, ready for whatever might happen, and fell asleep, and when I woke it was to the tune of a desperate hammering on deck. It was broad daylight, and, when I tumbled up, I found the mate beating the deck and bawling at the top of his voice, ‘Up with ye, you drunken swine! up naked, every mother’s son of you, and don’t stop to dress!’ he was roaring, filling up his meaning with more oaths than he had fingers and toes. He was just in the same condition he had been in all along, rolling and sprawling here and there, and fogging the air all about him with the smell o’ spirits.

“Old Drainings was at the wheel, and I spied the captain aft, holding on to a backstay with one hand and shaking his other hand at Drainings, who grinned in his face. Though pretty near the whole ship’s length was betwixt us, I easily saw that the captain was as drunk as his mate. By-and-by he turns his head and sings out for the mate to lay aft. The mate goes, and the skipper, fetching him a thumping whack on the back—meant for love and good fellowship—casts his arm round the other’s neck, and down they tumble below, for another reviver, no doubt. Drainings left the wheel and came forrard.

“‘I can’t help laughing at the old man,’ says he. ‘Never heerd such nonsense as he talks. But, all the same, what’s to do?’ says he. ‘We shall be driving ashore if we don’t mind. Have any of the men recovered?’

“‘I’ve not had time to see,’ I answers, and I dropped down the fo’ksle hatch to have a look. I stirred them as was on the deck with my foot and made some of them talk to me; but there was not one man among them as was of any use. They had not only come aboard steeped to the eyes in drink, but had brought a quantity of lush along with them, and two or three empty black bottles knocking about ’splained how it was that sleeping in all night hadn’t made these scowbanks fit for duty.

“Well, I don’t want to make an endless job of this yarn, or I’d give you the particulars of that day and the night as followed. By that time most of the men had recovered their senses, and me and Bill took care, as fast as ever we could get ’em to sit up and listen, to ’splain the quandary the vessel was in, and our danger. This sobered ’em quicker than water would have done. They came on deck and took a look around, saw nobody at the wheel, no one in charge, and nothing on the barque but what we had made shift to hoist after the tug had left us.

“This was the afternoon of the third day. The weather looked dirty in the south-west, and shortly before five o’clock the wind breezed up hard. Luckily we was under small canvas. I says to the men, ‘The best thing we can do is to haul down the staysails and heave her to. There’s no telling where she’s been drifting to all these days. No sights have been taken, the log never hove, no reckoning of any kind kept. Whether we’re off England, Hireland, or Scotland I’m not going to calculate; but one thing I’m certain sure of, we shall be having one of them kingdoms close aboard of us before long; and so I reckon our business is to slow down this here drift as fur as we can, whilst we see if the captain means to take charge and sail the vessel to Quebec, or keep drunk and send us all to the bottom.’

“Everybody being agreeable, we hauled down the staysails and backed the foretopsail. There was no watches, the crew hadn’t been divided; however, we formed ourselves into two gangs, and agreed to keep watch and watch till the morning; then, if things remained as they was, we arranged for some of us to go aft to the captain, and, if he refused to do his duty, to hoist a distress signal, and ’splain our situation to the first ship as came along. The deuce of it was, ye see, there was ne’er a man forrards as knew anything of navigation. Had we turned to and seized the skipper’s instruments and charts they’d have been of no use to us. Well, next morning arrived, and found the barque still drifting and the weather as thick as mud in a wine-glass. All hands assembled, and we held a sort o’ parliament, and then it was agreed that I and another should go aft and inquire of the captain what he meant by this conduct. ’Cordingly we lay aft, and going into the cabin found the mate lying there drunk, though not incapable. He asked us what we wanted; but we took no notice, pushing on to the captain’s berth. We hammered on the door, but getting no answer opened it, and saw him lying sound asleep and kinder stupefied in his bunk. We laid hold of him and hauled till we’d roused him up.

“‘Captain,’ says I, ‘we’ve come aft to ask what you mean to do with the barque. She’s drifting anyhow, and all hands feel their lives to be in danger.’

“‘Pooh, pooh!’ says he, stretching his arms and gaping, ‘it’s all right. Have a glass of grog?’