She Blows! And Sparm at That!

by William John Hopkins

The captain only grunted in reply. I did not like to press the matter, and I had turned away, when he called me back.

“Tim,” he said, “you can take your glass to the foremasthead, if you want to, and see if you can see any sign of him.”

There was a little crinkle of amusement about his eyes as he spoke. Evidently he thought that would be the last thing I wanted. It was. As I turned and looked up, I saw that the foremasthead meant the hoops. One man was already there, the tall, silent black man, that we called Tony. I had but just got so that I could climb in and out of the maintop without having my heart in my throat; but I was not going to let anybody know how scared I was, if I could help it, and I was not going to funk anything that the captain—the old man, as I had come to call him to myself and to others of the crew—suggested for me to do, even if he did not order it.

I turned back. “Yes, sir,” I said in a small voice; and I started.

I was an active boy, and fairly strong for my age; and I did it somehow. I think I held my breath for the last stretch, and I know I was thoroughly scared until I got there, and Black Tony lent me a hand into the hoops.

The ship was rolling more than I had thought. On deck the roll was scarcely noticeable, but at the foremasthead it was a different matter. I found that I was being carried through an arc of fifteen or twenty feet, and at first I could do nothing but hold on to the hoop. Tony did not laugh or speak. He did not even grin, but watched me and waited, thereby earning my enduring gratitude. After a few minutes I found that I did not mind the motion so much, and I put my arms over the hoop, and took up my glass, but did not put it to my eyes.

It was beautiful weather, the sun shining brightly and pleasantly warm, and a brisk breeze, under which the sea to leeward, as far as I could see, was deep indigo, with white caps here and there which flashed dazzlingly white in the sun. It seemed to me, I remember, that I could see almost around the world, although there was a curious saucer-like effect of the water near the ship. She seemed to be moving in the centre of a slight depression, a mile or so in diameter, and over that rim the sea curved away as it should. I was so taken up with the beauty and the breadth of view that I forgot what I had come there for, and I got to like the swing to and fro. It was as soothing as a hammock, the gulls screamed about my head, and I got to dreaming. I have never got over my liking for a wide prospect, and with such a prospect unrolled before me, I am, even now, as apt to get to dreaming as I ever was. I was too apt to do it then.

Something far off upon those bobbing waves must have attracted the attention of my unseeing eyes, for I came out of my dreaming abruptly; but the thing had gone. Again I thought I saw it, but it was of the color of a sea in shadow. I put my glass to my eyes, and searched the sea. It must have been six or seven miles off, or more, and I could not find it, but I saw only a panorama of curiously bobbing waves going straight up and down. Then I happened upon it again for an instant, as it crossed the field of my glass, what looked like the bow of a boat just rising over a sea. I was still searching for it when I felt a thump on the bottom of the ship, and a strange shivering of the mast. It was over in a second, but I had dropped my glass. If it had not been tied around my neck it would have dropped to the deck below, and it might have killed a man. That old glass was almost heavy enough to go through the deck, dropped from the masthead. I found myself staring at Black Tony, while he stared at me. Then he looked directly down into the sea below him.

What he saw there I did not know, but he gave a cry, and I felt rather than heard a sort of scraping along the keel, and the Clearchus almost stopped, and she began to careen. She careened more and more, and up there at the masthead it seemed as if she must capsize. I did not stop to think, but a panic seized me, and I slid and scrambled down the starboard rigging until I was in the foretop. There I stood and collected my scattered wits, and realized that, in my panic, I had come down, without a thought, over rigging that I had been very much afraid of. Although the topgallant shrouds have ratlines on them on all whalers and most merchantmen, they are pretty high up and seem none too secure to a boy on them for the first time. If it had not been for my momentary scare I might be up there yet.

I was about to come down from the foretop with much dignity and a swelling of the chest, when I saw that all hands, including the officers, were looking intently into the water astern, and naturally my gaze followed theirs. The ship had recovered her equilibrium by this time, and was going serenely about her business; but, about half a cable’s length in her wake, some huge, smooth body was slowly rising to the surface. At first I thought it was a whale which we had run into and over; but as it continued to rise, I saw that it was too big for a whale. It broke the surface, exposing a smooth shape like a vessel’s bilge, dark-colored and covered with weed, and continued to rise very slowly until the whole length was revealed, and I could even catch glimpses of the keel. It remained on the surface for half a minute, perhaps, then a sea heaved up the stem, and the hulk began to sink as slowly and majestically as it had risen. It was the hull of some vessel, waterlogged and water-soaked so that it floated some feet below the surface of the sea, rising and falling, or perhaps remaining stationary below the influence of the waves. It must have been afloat for years to be so covered with weed. I wondered where it had been when it met disaster; possibly on the coast of Africa, or in the Bay of Biscay, or even in some more remote seas; and how much longer would it be a plaything of ocean currents?