WHISPS OF SPRAY

Southland Times, Issue 19395, 8 November 1924, Page 11 (Supplement)

WHISPS OF SPRAY

ROMANCE AND YOUTH.

(By

R.W.)

With a skilful thrust he plunged his dirk through the heart of the Red Pirate, while Miriam, the captain’s daughter, flung her arms around his neck, exclaiming: “My Preserver.” Then he awoke, or, shall we say, regained semi-consciousness, for he still felt the blissful weight of Miriam on his chest. e

Herbert Sybly Rooke, aged 15 years, son of the late Commander Rooke, R.N., and also grandson of Admiral Sir William Rooke, lay in his bunk in the half deck of the barque Lady Palmer. It was 5.55 on the first morning of his sea-faring career as he lay and watched with growing interest the movements of his fellow apprentices dressing themselves in their nondescript working clothep and preparing to start the day’s toil. He could hardly believe that these five young fellows, in their patched and somewhat ragged dungarees, were the five smart cadets with whom he had spent the previous evening. Dressed in their smart brass-bound navy rig, they had all left the ship the night before to pilot their new first-voyager round the sights of Liverpool, and incidentally to help him spend the surplus cash with which all first-voyagers were usually well supplied, their own allowances having been cut out days ago. Removing Miriam from his chest—Miriam had suddenly been transformed into a heavy flock pillow—he sat up in his bunk, only to be immediately greeted by the senior cadet, Jack Hales, with: “Now, show a leg, my hearty; the mate will be along in five minutes. You had better be out and dressed, or there will be Hell to pay.” Jumping from his bunk and opening his new sea chest—replete with every modern convenience, including a mirror inside the lid —Rooke’s gaze encountered his own reflection in the glass, and to his horror he saw before him, not the pink, fresh, youthful face which had always greeted him in the mirror of his own room at home, but a blackened countenance which could only be acquired by the liberal use of boot polish. Turning in anger on his shipmates, he was greeted with laughter and shouts, while promptly told to hurry into his dungarees, or the mate would soon be on his track, and he had scarcely time to don a new suit of blue dungarees before he heard the mate’s voice calling the boys to muster, informing them also that if they were’nt lively he would “be round their stern galleries with a rope’s end.” Mustering at the break of the poop, they were met by the mate, Mr Evan Williams —the Lady Palmer was a Welsh ship, captain, officers and men were all Welsh, she was owned by Welshmen, and the apprentices were the only “foreigners” in her—who promptly inquired into the unseemly appearance of Rooke, and then sent them about their various tasks, four to wash decks and clean brass-work, while the senior boy was told off to watch the stowage of general cargo in the hold. Rooke, who would willingly have departed with the deck washing party, was detained by the mate, who told him to clean his face and afterwards report at his room. Having done so, he was told to be seated on the settee, and was addressed in a kindly tone by the mate. “Now, my poy,”—Mr Williams could never get his English quite right, for Welsh was the language mostly used on the Lady Palmer—“you are starting to-day on a life which will not come nearly up to your treams of it. It iss a hard life, but it iss a good one, and I want to spick to you, my poy, about it. Try and be a man, my poy, for here you will haf to do a man’s work, and from what I hear of your family you come of the stock that breeds goot sailormen. Remember that tissiplin iss the order of the day here in this ship, and a poy who does not like tissiplin gete to know well the rope’s end, understand you? You will be ‘peggy’ this week, and each morning you will scrup out the half-deck, floor and table, get the meals from the galley for the other poys, also keep the brass-work and the poop clean.” At this recital of his duties, Rooke, who had had dreams of donning his brass-bound uniform and marching up and down the poop with a telescope under his arm all day, looked decidedly distressed. Was he not a premium apprentice; had not his guardian the day before signed his indentures to that effect, and paid over the considerable sum of £lOO, so that he might learn to become an officer in the Mercantile Marine? So he said to the mate in a somewhat injured tone: “But, Mr Williams, I am a cadet in this ship. Where is the steward to do the scrubbing? When I signed my indentures at the office yesterday, Sir William Thomas said I was to be an officer in his ship.” “So you shall, my poy,” replied the mate with a smile, “but in this ship, which always turns out goot officers, we always make men of them first, understand you, and as to being ‘peggy,’ well, we always make the new poy be ‘peggy’—it iss the custom, and remember you that next week one of the other poys will be ‘peggy,’ eh!— Now go; if you like not the work, my advice is: leaf before we sail; but no, I think you will not leaf; you will stay and next voyage a second voyager you will be eh!” Rooke left the mate’s room dejected, but by no means disheartened. He, with the intuition of youth, could see that the advice of his superior was good, and he decided to do his bit. The scrubbing out of the half-deck took longer than he thought, consequently his mates arrived at 8 a.m. to find no breakfast. He had been so engrossed in his task that he had completely forgotten that part of “peggy’s” duties relating to food. However, one of the other boys soon overcame that difficulty, for which Rooke was really grateful, vowing to himself that be would be up to time with the mid-day meal. During the morning, while cleaning brass ports round the chart room on the poop with bath brick and oil, he was whistling happily as be worked, when he was informed by the second mate to “cut that out, you dhoull bark (little devil) —no whistling here, it iss not allowed—only the captain whistles here.” So later, while at the same task, having decided to sing if he could not whistle, he was merrily trilling a lilting comic opera chorus when a young urchin on the quay side threw a clod of earth at him, which missed its mark, and landed on the immaculate teakwood of the chart-house. He promptly left his job, and after an exchange of words, some of which were decidedly new to him, he endeavoured to chastise his tormentor for sullying the beautiful cleanliness of his ship. The fight was a willing one; the boys were equally matched, and “Cockney” (later he always answered to that name, because he had been born in London), using himself with a skill learned from his father, was getting the best of it when the mate appeared and stopped the combat. At 6 pun., tired though he was by bis unaccustomed toil, the day’s work finished, he cleaned himself and donned that glorious raiment of brass-bound uniform, with cap and badge glistening in all their newness, to sally forth with his shipmates to do the town. Some days later the four-masted barque Lady Palmer, fully laden with general «ar—-

go for Melbourne, was towed down the Mersey outward bound. Her deck-hands were for the most part geuuineiy intoxicated, so that when the tug cast off near the South Stack Lighthouse, the making of sail had been performed by officers, petty officers, and embryo officers combined, the first voyager endeavouring to do his fair share. The next day the qualms of sea-sickness overtook him, but Mr Williams, in whose watch he was, and who boasted that he knew of only one cure for sea-sick-ness, which was constant work, kept him at it sick though he was, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing his pure successful. Under the tuition of the officers—thorough seamen all—and the instruction willingly given, by the old salts from th© fore-

castle, Rooke soon learned the fine points of his chosen profession, and on the arrival in Melbourne, as he went ashore on the first evening with his shipmates to see the sights, bis uniform had lost ita fine, new look, acd he had acquired an easy rolling gait, slightly emphasised, no doubt. During the veasefs stay in port, Rooke spoke proudly of his ship and her good points, and when, during the Henley regatta held on the Yarra, the gig of the Lady Palmer, manned by four apprentices, and coxswained by Herbert Sybly Rooke, won the ship’s boat race by a full length from the second boat, that of the barque Hinemoa, his pride knew no bounds —she was his ship, his “Alim Mater.” Here waa indeed Roramy and aha finality I