AROUND THE WORLD.

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 103, 3 May 1930, Page 4

AROUND THE WORLD.

GOSSIP OF THE PORTS. THE NJGN POSITION. (By LEE FORE .BRACE.) The tramp steamer, Lawbank, .punched 'her way down through the South East trades, outward bound for Cape Town. She was 'loaded down to 'her marks with coal from Cardiff, and as she bucked into the her.;! sea her decks were like a halftide rock. On her bridge stood iher captain, and second and third mates. The captain, his ruddy, leather-like face glowing in the brilliant sunshine, stood with his legs wide apart, his left hand thrust into his jacket pocket, and his right, holding liis sextant, was swung around a bridge pillar to steady himself. The mates, they too with their sextants bandy, were standing near, alternately taking a shot at the sun and a look at the clock in the chart room. It was approaching eight bells, and presently, the captain, sextant glued to his eye, rumbled out: "'What do ye get, Mister?" Obediently bis two officers raised their instruments and gently manipulated the tangent screws. "Fifty-two," said the second, referring to the minutes only. "Fifty-two," echoed the third mate. "Fifty-three," differed the old man. There was a moment's silence while all three kept their instruments in position. "She's dipped," rasped the captain, "make eight bells, Mister." The third struck the small bell on the fore part of the chart room, and .then read his sextant. "Fifty-two and a quarter, sir." "Barely," remarked the second, "but call it a quarter." "Call it fifty-three," barked the skipper as he stepped into the chart room. The second followed him, and the third retired to his room to work up his sights. A few minutes later he joined the others in the chart room, and stood waiting until the captain turned from his work-book where he had been, with much biting at his pencil stub, laboriously working out the position. "Well, where d'ye put her?" he asked. * "Seventeen, thirty-five and, a half, South; six fourteen, east, sir/' reported the third. "Seventeen, thirty-five, South; fourteen, two, East, sir," said the second. "I get thirty-four, forty-five; and thirteen, fifty," answered the captain, as he looked at his officers disdainfully. "Call it that." "Wh#it D'ye Make It, Mister?" For a fraction of a second the second raised his eyes piously in the direction of the chart room ceiling, and the third winked at the second, grinned, and then stepped out to the bridge, to keep a look out. Tie second worked out the run, and waited for the captain to mark off the noon position on the chart, and give the new course. "What distance d'ye make it, Mister?" asked the captain, as he twirled the dividers to the edge of the chart. "One hundred and seventy-seven and a half, sir, an average of seven point four since noon yesterday." "Suffering flaming blazes, is that all? Wait 'till I mark her off and then I'll have a talk with the chief." To watch the old man put the position on the chart was one of the chief joys of the second. As he was wont to remark, it made up for the lack of entertainment to be had out on the deep waters. Eventually the ceremony was complete "Tell the Chief I want him. Mister." and the second made his way to the Chief's room. The Chief was a dour Clydesider, a master at his profession, as most Clydesiders are, and there was nothing be loved better than an argument with his captain. The old man was seated on the chart room table as the two entered, and the argument commenced. "What's wrong with your engines, Chief?" "'Nothing, why?" "Seven point four since yesterday. By the way, is the coal all right?" "Naething wrang wi' the coal: Whar hae ye been gallivantin' tae wi' the ship?" "Whit Dae Ye Ken ?" "Gallivanting nothing, your gang down below cannot keep up steam." "Naefchin* wrang wi' the steam; naebody's let it back for days." "How's the vacuum, then?" "Whit the dae ye ken aboot vacuum? A'U tell ye whit's the matter. So Jang as you're oo>t on the deep waters - ye keep on showing perfectly scandalous runs, but the day ye pick up something on the land—when ye really ken wliair ye are, ye niak' up for it by haein' the ship dae aboot twelve knots for the twentyfour hours previous." "All night, Chief, all right, but don't be insulting. You know there has been a knock in one of the cylinders since we left Cardiff." "Gang awa, mon, you're bletherin'. A'll open her up at the Cape, and you'll then see the bonniest set o' engines that ever left Cartsdyke. Come awa doon and hae your dinner and ye'll feel better." The Chief was unusually silent at the dinner table, and it was noticed that lie spent long hours with the second engineer every day until Table Mountain was lifted, and it was also noticed that their conversation always ended with deep chuckles of laughter. Port reached, the Chief gave instructions for the low pressure cylinder to be lifted, and a. small anvil was placed on top of the piston. This done, the cover was replaced, after turning the engine sufficiently, _ and the nuts tightener! down. Everything being completed, tin.- Chief ■w ended his way to the captain's cabin and_ mvjted liim to come and inspect the engines. Who's Blethering Now?" A m fair sick o' all this blether aboof ill a engines, so, captain, you had better doon and hae a look for yoursel'." Ihe old man fully believed that something was wrong below, and he accompanied the Chief to the engine room. Iho second and his black-gang were awaiting them, but no one showed even a trace of a smile. "Open up the L.P. first, Mister," instructed the Chief, as lie and the captain got on to the gratings, Wit j li twinkling eyes the nuts were removed, and, during the operations, the captain stood by with quiet confidence. As the cover was removed, the Chief yelled to the third, who was standing by below, to heave the engine round. All eyes were turned on the cylinder awaiting the appearance of the piston— and the anvil. The skipper's yell of triumph disturbed the silence of the onlookers as the anvil was slowly disclosed to view. "Tfiere yon are man, who's blethering, now. I knew there was something in that cylinder, and maybe you'll give me credit for having a knowledge of engines and vacuums and pistons in future." The Chief slowly sank back into the waiting arms of his second, and his swooning was a masterpiece of acting. Not a word was said, not even from the three mates who were gazing in innocent astonishment from the vantage point of the engineroom door. Slowly the Chief raised himself to a sitting posture, and as the captain stalked majestically from the engineroom, he broke out into a guffaw of laughter that was echoed and re-echoed from the onlookers.