SHORT STORY. SEA BOOTS

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 251, 22 October 1937, Page 15

SHORT STORY. SEA BOOTS

(By FRANK H. SHAW.)

AT sea, in hard weather. Don Cadworth rated a-; a iniiii; in |>ort ho was (.nly tlio Jloniface's senior how Captain Dickley treated him as 'n naughty 1 m >y when lie asked for shore leave that New Year* Kve in Xewcastle. X.S.W.

on 11 pet nn leave!" he gro\vle<l. fastening a. clean collar. "Kut--I ve Im-'.'ii asked to the Ilron•iohV New Year party, sir." said Don passionately. "It's Xew Year's Kve, "Xo leave ashore to-night—definitely, - ' the skipper .-napped. Don reflected that he hod promised Dorothy Hronson he'd he at that jamhoree if he had to swim to her h(nir>e. thre miles from the rtnehored Jion i - face. A girl like Dorothy went to a man's head. For two rotten ropeyarns, lie thought, he'd desert the windjammer, letting his three and a half years' seatime go into the 1 >;i lt. Hod anyone accused Don of suffering from aujiravated calf-love he would have stripped to the waist and fought it out; but he was so suffering.

'Hut. rsir- -!" he began. Xew Year's Kve. and the ship due to sail tile following day. Four months of a passage 'to follow —in lxid weather most of the way. And Dorothy had told him what their Xew Year parties were like all! (iood food, fun and lathings of steaming punch. Kisse* in secret on the verandah, like as not. A riot of a time.

"Clear out!" barked Dickley. "If I let the boys go the deckhands will c\|M»ct. leave, and they'd «11 be blind-oil at sailing time."

W hat was the good of trying to explain that the senior bov. who'd stood a 24-hour trick at the wheel when no two men could handle the labouring ship, rated as an officer? Who'd acted third mate when Mr. Prior broke his leg-.' Who'd worked overtime when the men went on strike? Don Cadworth. Who stood a chance of getting command as soon a* he'd passed fop master? Don (ad worth. And here he was being treated like a first-vovager!

"Hottcn business!" he reported to Barry Rarker. his next senior. "Who'd go to sea. anyhow? A filthy life!' "Pretty poisonous." Barry admitted. "The stinking tinker won't let tne go to the Bronson's party. Xew Year's Kve--«nd we were at <-ea for Christina*. I'll desert. I'll ?rt a job ashore." How would you get there?'' the practical Barry asked. They gloomed moodily at the coal cranes on the distant wharves. The Boniface was threeparts laden, would perhaps lill up during the night, certainly early next morning. Dust, devilment and dreariness lay ahead of the ship once she cast off the towboat. The memory of that New Year party would lighten tedium. "Barry," Dyn said solemnly, "I'd die for that girl." "Dying wouldn't do any good. Let's go for'ard, it'll bring her closer." The wind jammer's how was 300 ft nearer to the Bronson'* liou?e than her stern. Showing up on the poop, Captain Dickley hailed a shore boat. In a verv definite voice he said to the mate: "Xo one goes ashore, on any account, mister." "Ay, ay, sir." "You may need to go under the cranes n ia hurry." The shore boat hooked to the gangway, the skipper descended. Don kicked at « ring-bolt until he hurt his toe.

"If Id just a «-ingle dollar I'd chance it. he brooded and limped moodilv for ard. Ashore the New ear illuminations tantalised; occasional bursts of musie sounded. Hogmannay means something to the Xew South Welsh. Irom the void l>elow the leaning bovs came a «t col thy hiss. "Any feller want a lift ashore?"cnnie softly through the splash of water. "Xo one's allowed ashore." Don answered between clipped hands. "Well, they hang folk for murder, if they' re caught." the boatman tempted, j "I'll land you for half n dollar, shipi mate, and fetch you back after you've j seen the girls." "Haven't got half a dollar," Don fretted. ] "I'm sprung, too. since we pawned our watches in Sydney—" niourne I Barry. Don's sudden inspiration came like a flash: "I've got my seaboots!" i Xow. a windjammer sailor's son hoot < are his sheet, anchor to v.ind'ard. especially in hard weather when ice grows on the rigging and big water lashes aboard. But — "TTow about seaboots —nearly new?" he questioned. "It's a go," said the boatman. Barry protested that if the skipper twigged he'd give Don a bad discharge, which would prohibit him from sitting for second mate when the Honifaec reached home. ; "I'll chance it," was Don's rookies I challenge. From aft the mate hailedI "You boys, there!"' As Don replied' "Keep ii gangway till the cap'.aiu comes hack," was the order. He ndd n <' that lie was turning in. in view of the early start.. "That ties it!" said Barry. "It's right up our street. You keep first gangway. See what T mean?" Protesting, Barry saw. For the mate's benefit. Don said loudly: "Well. I'll gc r a caulk and relieve at midnight." and dived into the half-deck, where he ; effected a quick change. He needed a i haircut —no inonev to spare for that. He I had no. clean collar. Barry's sea chest | provided one; they were communal, lie! examined his seaboots —oh. good boots! j Tight as a drum, they were, a gift from Dovnak. the Finn, when he descried: I thigh-high, silky soft. But Dollv Ilron- j son was worth any sacrifice: and this! was Xew Year's Kve, when a man needed j happiness. Who was scared to round , the Horn harefooted. anyhow? The boatman insisted on viewing the hoots; he accepted them as security; and Don slid nimbly down t'm bows. He seriously meditated desertion, a runaway marriage with Dolly. "I'll be shoving r.ff bade around eleven," he told the waterman. "By rights these boots shouldn't eo.cr the trip back." "You stinking larrikin! You be here • at eleven or I'll get the gang to see to you." Don was ashore —his own master for three priceless hours. Musi.- caused j his feet to tingle. Music came from j Dolly's home as he rang. Xew Year's Kve—time for good resolutions. He'd tell Dollv he loved her. ask her to wait ! i bit. She was in. the servant admitted. I inviting him to enter. She commented m his appearance of heat. "Sounds like a party," Don mopped i streaming face. "Well, ain't it Xew \'ear?" the maid ( r(*plied. grinning. Oaiotv appeared to lie everywhere. Don pushed open the j door of the lounge and went in. He ! found himself face to face with Captain Dickley. who looked bigger than a fourmaster. Incredulity shape 1 on tli3 skipper's face as he stranglcdly said:

"What in hell—Cadv/orth!" "How nice." cooed Airs. Bronson, "So glad. Don, after you said you couldn't come. Happy New Year. Aren't you well, dear boy?" Don ran a finger round Harry's collar, now a limp ruin. "Oet back aboard - — pronto!" snapped Dickley. "I'll deal with you —" Behold, before anyone could urotest, there was Dolly,' radiant in evening white, colour high, eyes like sapphires, hugging . the boy's arm, kissing his cheek !

"Kipping, Don." she gurgled. "Happy | Xew Year—you're just in time to con- ! gratulate me. Look!" She displayed a diamond-decorated third finger. ''I'm just engaged." Don's mouth dropped open, he drooped a little. "To Captain Dickley," Dolly elaborated. She took Don's hand and put it in Captain Dickley's astonished palm. Skippers and apprentices do not shake hands overmuch. "I must go," gasped Don. "Oh— cripes!" "Nonsense!" said Mrs. Bronson. "New Year's Eve, too! Captain Dickley—John , —use your influence. I think it is so nice your senior Ik>v should be here to congratulate you first of your crew.'' "Oh—ideal." Dickley grated. "Did you bring the band and fiags, ('adworth "You two shipmates don't seem glad to meet," fussed Mrs. Bronson. The maid entered with a promising tray. "Everyone drink the health of the happy pair—in champagne." In Dicklev's eyes Don saw a grim challenge. It seemed to threaten holystoning in his watch below. Doliv sensed the strain and remembered all Dun had said to her. She gripped two hard arms, looking from face to face. "\\ hat s wrong?" she chirped. "Hadn't you heard, Don; you aren't sailing for another week, and we're marrrving and I'm coming home in the "hip?" Her eyes sparkled, hinting at fun. "I pawned my sea boots to get ashore." the bov gasped. Suddenlv the grinmess left. Dickley s teak-hard face; lie clipped his girl around her trim waist, kissed her boisterously and laughed like thunder. "Drink your wine. Cadworth," he said. "How did you wangle it';" "Over the bows on a line, sir—boatman standing bv." Remembering how he had done the same thing, himself, not long before. Dickley roared anew. "line way to start a new vear! Pawned your boots to do it. eh? You'll j miss 'em in Sixty South. I'll bet." i "If you're angrv with Don—" be«an Dolly. "1 only sneaked ashore to say Happy | Xew Year and good-bve, Dolly,'" gulped | Don. I 'This ring isn't so tight it won't come off." the girl said firmly. | "Hi hello!" The skipper looked flabbergasted: a man the bov had , thought omnipotent was crumbling 1 like a paper bag! ; "But he broke ship—without leave, against orders," said Dickley. I came to see me. Don, didn't you;"' She was, he thoujrht, like a sympathetic anjrel. He nodded, i "That's excuse enough, John," said Dolly. Aboard his ship John Dicklev might be lord paramount : in the Bruni son house he was simply pliant wax. | "Have some more champagne. Don: and if John doesn't let you stav. we'll ! l'o out and look at the moon together. .Its a nice moon." Captain Dickley swallowed words. | "\\ hen you go back aboard, boy, tell the mate sailing orders are cancelled, jWe sail this day week." I "1 made this cake nivself, Don," said Dolly. • • • • ! "Women!" Don thought blackly. "Women!" He looked from the leech of the thundering topsail to the .swinging compass card. "Aha!" Bitterly cold for a barefooted boy at the jolting wheel! Spindrift slashed his exposed shanks. Three able sea- 1 men had been kicked away from the lielm that watch. Here was Don Cadworth, a man trusted to handle ; the ship in her flurries. In between: the screaming squalls the tinkle of the j

cabin piano reached Don's cars. That piano was a wedding gift, of course. "Women — by gum!" he ground through (battering teeth. I'or a woman's sake he had risked his future. But Dolly had seen there were no reprisals. The nerve of the woman! All the time spoony with old man Dickley, yet making Don think she was his girl! True, she had explained that, being fond of the skipper, she was naturally warm-hearted to all his crew. Women could explain anything and make you believe they meant it! Women! Rlistcringly cold it was; and a barefoot passage round Cape Horn promised. I gh! (aptain Dicklev had closed the slop chest. Xo new sea boots were forthcoming. Even if the old man had invited the half-deck gang to the wedding and ensuing festivities, he hadn't forgiven Don's dereliction of duty. It was. of course, Dolly who had persuaded the captain to allow the boys to attend the function. And there'was Dolly, trifler with great emotions, snug and warm in the cuddy, with her piano, and here was lie. who had risked his future | and sacrificed three months' comfort, freezing stiff at the blasted wheel! j Xo more women for him, Don swore viciously. This was what Xew Year had brought him! You knew where vou were with a ship, though—he'd stick to 1 ships, and ignore women. If he stuck to his job and got his tickets quickly, he could persuade his father, the shipowner. to give him command of a fullpowered steamship, and that would | make Captain Blithering Dickley feel i sick, him commanding only a windbag.! It would make Dolly feel sick, too. when she saw what she might have married. ( aptain Dickley came to the poop, snug in weather-tight oilskins and thighboots, balancing easily beside tile binnacle. He grunted into his slicker collar, j "A bit nippy up here, what!" Don sensed triumph in his crisp voice. "Might be worse, sir." "Here! Put 'em on, Cadworth." The skipper suddenly lugged something from under his coat, pushed it into the boy's numb hand. "She's knitted you a pair of socks, young 'un. Give me the wheel a minute; nip into the chart room. You might find some hot coffee—with milk in it." But there was more than socks. Don satisfied himself of this munificence incre»»ilously. Here were his own priceless seaboots. legacy of a Finn who knew what seaboots were. I "Oh. sir—oh, my gosh!" ' "Well, well—it wasn't so hard to get 'em back, youngster. Mrs. — my wife— cr —Dolly—she found out. I choked that boatman off. too. Kight—l've got her. Don't be gone too long." Don squatted in the companion way to pull on the fine long socks and those comforting boots. He slithered down the stair and knocked at the door of a saloon that was bright and snug. Dorothy Dickley smiled a welcome at him, and the coffee was nectar. I

"Shall I play you some of those songs you used to like such « lot" she asked, returning to the piano.

"I'll have to relieve the old man at the wheel; "she's taking a bit of handling," he said. "Thanks a lot, Dol—Mrs. Dickley. Especially for these seaboots— gosh, I'd hate to have lost 'em for good." "It was John's idea. Don; he thought it all out. More coffee?" Don went hack to the wheel, feeling manhood thrill him as he gripped the kicking spokes, "All rght now, Cad worth ?" asked the skipper. "I've got her, sir." "IShe's steering wild; took me all my time to handle her." That was all; but from Captain Dieklev it was high praise. Not a bad old stick, the skipper, Don thought, eyes moving from topsail leech to compass-card. But wasn't he a bit [soft to prefer that over-hot cabin to the stinging caress of flying sprays? There he was, diving below again, when to stay on deck to watch fhe ship flaunt her lively length through big, white water was like getting a swig of unwatered rum—exhilarating. And Dolly was all I right—a nice woman, but a bit old, when I you come to think of it —twenty-one at I I the Jeast!

"I reckon I'll ask the pater to give old Dickley a decent ship when we get home,"' Don mused. "Gollv-gosh. it's a good thng I didn't skip ship, they'd have been in a mess but for me!"