AROUND THE WORLD.

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 229, 27 September 1930, Page 5

AROUND THE WORLD.

GOSSIP OF THE PORTS. THE THIRD MATE. (By LEE-FORE-BRACE.) We have all sailed with him, and many of us, in our old and liard-earned wisdom, have to some extent sympathised with him. As he came up the gangway, immaculate in his new serge suit, he was the observed of all the observers, and his brother officers, including the engineers,, were outspoken 'in their criticism. "He's a wee bit young _ and boyishlooking tae be third o' a big tramp like this," says the second engineer. "Aye, Mac," replies the mate, "but it's best to catch 'em young when they come from a windjammer. They're easier broken in." "Leave the laddie alane," chortles tlie chief, "we 'a had tae make a beginning, and anyhow, he proved himsal tae be a man when he got his second mate's certificate." The object of all this criticism is not too sure of himself. The steward has shown him to his room,_ where he dons his uniform, adorned with one solitary gold band, and then presents himself to the mate for orders. "Please to meet you, mister. No, there s not much to do. Go round with 'Chips' and see that all the hatches are battened down, then get the bo'sun to lash the mooring springs and hawsers on top of the boat deck, and when your finished with that take a couple of hands and get 'em to fill tlie lifeboat beakers with fresh water. After that's done see that the lamp-trimmer has chocked off all the gear in the paint locker, and then get the log and head lines overhauled and hang 'em up on the bridge—we'll be sure to want 'em before we get clear o' the Channel. If you get time before tea, try out the steering gear and the telegraphs, and the windlass, and eh—if you don't get time you can do 'em after tea. • "Aye, aye sir,"- replies tlie bewildered third, and his first duty as an officer has begun.' His First Watch. He feels himself to be quite an important person as he stands at the engineroom telegraph, while the pilot and the "old man" conns the big ship out of dock into the fairway. He is a bit flustered—the only excited man on the bridge, because he has never had experience of telegraphs or other similar gadgets, and it is so easy to make a mistake. He is somewhat relieved when they are clear of the river, and he is ordered by the captain to get the pilot ladder over. So far lie has done well, but he blushes slightly as he asks the pilot to post a letter when he gets back to port. You see the letter is to the best girl, and he has promised to marry her when he gets a command. It conies his watcli at 8 p.m., and as he climbs up the bridge ladder to relieve the mate, he looks disdainfully at the three apprentices coiling up some ropes. And yet, only two months ago he was one himself. How far away it all seemed.. He reaches the bridge, and almost expects the mate to order him down to give the boys a hand. Instead, of that, the mate's voice sounded pleasant and familiar: "Well, there's nothing in sight, Mr. Robinson." A feeling of pride conies over him. "Mr." Robinson! What a change from "Hey, you damn boy!" "Eli, eh, it looks a bit breezy to the south-east, sir!" he ventures to remark in a humble and apologetic tone, as if ready to be told by one of superior knowledge that nothing- but flat calms could be expected from that quarter. _ The - mate glances in the direction indicated, and replies, "Yes, but nothing much; sunset was too rosy. to-night for much wind. "Of course, sir, I forgot that, should have remembered the old saying, "A red sky at night, a sailor's delight, red in the morning a sailor's warning." _ "Don't you believe that, mister. .Wait till vou get out to the Red Sea and you'll reverse your rhyme. I'll bid you ta-ta, and. the course is south, 80 west, and-she's all yours." "Good-night, sir, and eh-eh, thank you, sir." The mate looks at his junior, then slowly and deliberately descends the ladder, hesitating at each step as if about to remark something. He senses that the third is a bit nervous, and feels sorry for him. He himself has been through the mill, and decides to say nothing. , In Charge! He was in charge! All round.him was the, grey waters of the Channel, while beneath his feet the big ship heaved and fell easy to the long swell. His to command. To alter course as he wished. To make any path through the waters which he thought desirable in order to avoid danger. Danger! Ah! "When in danger with no room to turn, ease her, stop her, or go astern." The lines of the adage came to him. No room to turn! Heavens, such a catastrophe would hardly bear thinking about. Supposing ships, hundreds of 'em, suddenly came in sight all round him, all converging in his direction. What would he do? Rapidly he mentally raced through the Articles for Prevention of Collisions at Sea. They told him nothing. He would stop her, of course. Certainly, stop her and let her drift. That was the solution, and he felt somewhat easier after getting out of such a difficult situation. „ He began to pace up and down the bridge, humming a tune and thinking of that little girl, at times letting his gaze wander around the horizon. Suddenly the tune froze on his lips. He felt his hair stiffening and standing up straight. There was something right ahead. "Cripes! the side lights of a windjammer. How's she going? We're heading west, the wind is east. I can see both her lights, she must be heading east. Of course, that's it. No, of course it cannot be, for how can she be heading right into the wind's eye? S'truth! it must be a steamer without a masthead light. No, it's a windjammer all right. He can see her sails, but where the blazes is she steering? What action should he take? Alter course to starboard? Time was slipping past, and the two lights were drawing nearer. And then the mystery dawned on him. 0 course it was a sailing ship. She was hanging in stays. And then he did the correct thing. "Slow" he rang on the telegraph, and watching the new tack the sailing ship went on, he altered course to go under her stern. The Captain's Praise. It was with shaking hands that he rings for "full ahead," and as the big tramp passes under the stern of the barque he was brought back to earth by the voice of the captain. "That was neatly done, mister. It's not often that you'll see a windjammer in that position, and I'm glad to see that you didn't get excited. There's nothing like having a good knowledge of the Rule of the Road. You'll do, mister. Call me if you want anything, and good-night." "Eh! eh. Good-night, sir," replies the third. "Excited," he mutters to himself. "If the 'old man' had only known. I'm in a lather of sweat still. Neatly done, eh? Darned good luck;, but anyhow, blast these sailing ships!" and the lucky third paces the bridge again. All around the stars twinkled and blinked. In the north-east the Great Bear tilted at a cock-a-bill angle. Two bells—four bells—six bells. His confidence grew with the ringing of the bells. Helmsmen came and went, reporting the course with the suffix of "Sir." Disinterested, even, come his replies, as though to hide his inexperience. Sometimes they came with a forced yawn—having heard the same thing so many times before. But the helmsmen were not deceived. One bell! Only a quarter of an hour to go. How quickly the time had flown. He looked boldly the horizon, eagerly searching for any stray lights, so that he could prove that he was ready for them. Not a sign of anything. And then comes the relief, and so ends his first watch. '