The Old Sailor's Story

Southland Times, Issue 22293, 7 April 1934, Page 19

The Old Sailor's Story

—First Prize.— He sat on a rusty anchor, his only leg thrust out in front of him, his worn crutches lying near. His brown hand held a stubby pipe, which he puffed at with relish. At my approach his bright blue eyes bade me welcome. “ ’Twas just a morning as this I sailed away on the ‘Gannet’,” he quavered reminiscently, then again was silent. I waited. I realized I was to hear one of Old Sailor Bob’s sea-stories. After a few deep puffs at his pipe he began: “A smart ship she was, the ‘Gannet,’ with as bonny a crew of lads as ever sailed the seas. She was a smart ship, and as we left port we went smooth as a gull. There was a steady breeze and our sails were tight as drums. We all made good headway until one day I fouled a rope, and fell, breaking my leg and effectively crippling myself for the voyage. “After that our luck went. The wind left us and we were stranded on a motionless sea. As provisions and water dwindled our plight grew desperate. All the long days a sun like a brass kettle blazed down. The black nights came quickly, and then the phosphorescent fishes made glittering tracks on the still, sluggish waters. “Our water was soon done. Gay sailor lads grew stern-faced men. We jumped at the sound of our own voices. Down in my sick-bed it was far worse, and my mates shifted me up on to deck. The men were a pitiful sight. Their swollen tongues were too big for their dry, caked mouths. They walked softly. A nameless dread hung over us all. “The sun bad just gone, and the swift darkness had fallen! “Suddenly, a swirl of water churned up, to part suddenly. We all groaned aloud. A beautiful woman lay there, with sea-weed glistening on her white body. She poured out clear, cool water in glasses, and the glitter of the cool drops was sweet beyond description. Like a mirage, it mocked us—so cool and clear when our very hearts were hard-baked an dry and the sides of our throats stuck together with thirst. Then the woman raised a white arm to the half-mad watchers, and the glory of her eyes was over-powering as she beckoned. Falling and leaping they staggered over the side to the beautiful vision that meant water and life. Tied to my bed I entreated them to take me, and raved and cursed until my brain snapped and again awoke, help had come. Drink and food was given me and I was carefully nursed. But the crew, the lads who had sailed with me were gone. And sluggish stains of blood on the murky waters told of a horrible death. . ~ , ~ , “A ship passing had seen an unpiloted ship, tossing in the gale that rose and so deliverance had come. My leg, so long untended could not be saved but I was delivered from death. And that’s why I never blame Providence for the loss of my leg, son. But for it I would have been one more victim of the sea spirits who lure tortured sailors to a horrible death. -3/- and 4 marks to Cousin Chrissie Ross (15), Maia, Dunedin. —Second Prize.— “It is a good many years ago since I first seffoot on Algeria, and I truly confess that it is more than wonderful how I ever came out again. Pausing for a minute to watch a passing steamer the old captain of sixty-two winters went on, “I went there for the purpose of spending my annual leav with my grand-uncle. Now he was wealthy and happy and so I had a rare fancy for the wilds where he dwelt. “He seemed very pleased to see me and gave me a real fine time much of which I must say was due to his charming daughter whom I loved. I was disappointed when she told me her father had promised her to a wealthy Bulgarian. Jessie hated him, however, and she wept bitterly when I had to leave her to go back to the sea. “My grand-uncle drove me to the nearest station and I took my ticket and departed only to drop off the train six miles away. At dusk I was back again and Jessie was ready for me so together we set out on a tenmile tramp to a branch station. Often since then have I wondered how such a delicate girl attempted it, but I think terror gave strength “We reached the train safely and set out, but we both knew Jessie’s father was capable of stopping us before we reached the coast. The only thing I had in the way of a weapon was a pocket knife and I had no chance of obtaining anything else. “As the train pulled out of a large station the door of our carriage suddenly flew open and a man tried to enter but I rushed at him and we had a real two-handed fight. He was much the stronger and soon had me dragged out. I now began to fight desperately for my thoughts were all on Jessie. Finally I got him off and raced after the train but as I was nearing it I heard a report of a revolver and almost instantly I felt a stinging pain at the side of my head. “From then on the train was left alone and eventually we reached the coast. When we reached England Jessie and I were married. I suppose you will not be surprised to know I never got any of his money. “If you want to see the girl you will see her photograph in my cabin or the real person in my home at Dover and I’ll bet any of you would be glad to carry a scar like this for her sake. 2/- and 4 marks to Cousin Laurence Moir (14), Waimahaka. —Prize.— “And this?” questioned the nephew pointing to a fully rigged ship model, standing in its glass case on the sideboard, "Has it a history? “My boy; many a weird tale and many a humorous ‘yam’ hangs round the original of that little boat,” was the reply of the uncle, who had been telling the history of the many curios in the room; “and, if you like to hear a really good sea story go and get your grandfather. “Grandfather? Why ask him, he was never a sailor?” “Oh yes, my dear boy, yes. I know you have never been told before, but he was a sailor, and not only an ordinary seaman either—he was a captain.” “How wonderful! Grandfather a real captain! I never dreamed but what kind of a ship did he have?” “He was skipper of a windjammer in the days when steamers were but toys, lad, and many a grand story he can tell if he is in the right mood. Why, goodness, here he is, the very man we are talking of Good-day dad. I've just been telling my nephew here that you were once a seadog and a skipper in one.” “Aye, a skipper, and skipper of the best ship afloat. But, poor thing, she had to go. Like all good sailers she had to go. Aye, but ’twas a sorry day for me when I lost her.” “Grandpa tell me of it please,” implored the boy. , “Aye; well 1 think I will. ’Twill do ye no harm and maybe ’twill amuse ye while your uncle makes the tea. Sit ye down. “Indeed, you’re right. It will do him no harm and I will listen while the kettle boils, so light your pipe and begin.” “Well,” said the old man, drawing at his briar, “'Twas the fall of the ’67 and we'd left Sydney with our yearly cargo of wheat. We were a few days ahead of the other ’jammers and given good weather we hoped to make the Hom in record time. You see the wheat race of that year was given more interest, for some Lord or other in the Old Country had give a prize of two thousand sovereigns for the first wheat cargo landed. Now I, and my crew of course, would have liked very much to have that same money for 'twould make us nice little nest eggs. Well we had fond hopes of reaching the Pool of London first, provided we held our lead. So we crowded on all sail and aided by the ’forties rounded the Horn in great style, breaking the record by two days. Imagine our pride, mine in particular. Like landlubbery fools we thought the money won. We were to leam wisdom and this is how it happened. “We were bowling along, all ship-shape and trim, all canvas in use, and all the crew happy at the thought of the money waiting. Our ship, the good old “Golden Hope,” was the apple of my eye. Indeed ’twas. But ye landlubbers have a saying that pride comes before a fall, and so ’twas with us. The weather changed. The seas began to rise and the sky to darken. Ominous, brooding clouds swept up o’er-shadowing us in a trice. The wind began to shriek through the rigging. I became anxious. “Mister Sefton,” I called to the mate on watch with me, “Looks as though we’re nigh to a squall.” “Aye, Sir,, ye’re right and a heavy one to say the least.” I agreed with him. “Mister Sefton, have all sail furled and lively!” “Aye, Aye, Sir,” he cried, and rushing he soon had the watch at work. But we were not lively enough. The gale, which came, struck us aft and in one awful moment all became dark as pitch as the storm unleashed his fury. Men shrieked as the force of the sudden blast tore them from their perches aloft and hurled them screaming to the decks below. Poor fellows! I could not aid them. Imagine my horror, my anguish, when I heard their ghastly death cries. But truly I had but little time to be sorry. I had to save my ship. Oh, what a task it was! Panic took a hold on the living members of the crew almost at once, and panicky seamen are like demented negroes when they get properly worked up. So all was a merry mix-up. However, we managed to get them calmed, although a fallen mast hindered us for a while, and then we set to work to get all in order again. “All through the night which had now fallen, the gale howled and the waves surged about the decks which were forever awash. I waited for what would happen, for what was coming, but I could move no hand to stay it. I was at the mercy of the sea. The remaining masts, three of them, the rigging, all four boats, the cookhouse and two hatches all went to Davy Jones. ' The bridge on which I stood creaked continuously and often seemed in danger of destruction, but Lady Fortune cheated old Neptime or I’d not be here now. I’ll admit I was lucky. However, we rode that storm, through hours of tearing anxiety and mortal dread and, when the storm lifted, some time after daybreak, we living ones found ourselves adrift on a derelict on a mocking sea.” “Oh, Grandpa!” gasped the boy, "What did you do?’ “ ’Twill surprise you lad, but we did nothing. Ye see we couldn’t, we had nothing but a good supply of food and a floor under our feet. Soon the food would go, so unless we were rescued, death by starvation stared us in the face. There was a meagre chance that one of the windjammers which had left after us would sight us. But indeed that chance was slim, for

doubtless, the storm would have driven us out of our course. So we just drifted on, and on, and on, lighting a signal fire on the deck to attract attention and hoping against hope for release. Then the second catastrophe took place.” “What happened?” cried the boy, his eyes bright, “What happened? “Sh, Sh! Don’t interrupt,” admonished his uncle, “Your grandfather will tell you everything in due time.” “Oh, don’t mind lad,” said the skipper, “Ye’re young but once. I was like that myself when I was young. Well the men mutineed and after a nasty hand to hand struggle managed to overpower us officers and clap us hat and baggage in irons.” “My hat!” gasped the nephew boyishly. “But that was not all. By no means. By no means. They left us in the hold, without food, without water, with the wheat and rats for company. Then they must have sighted a passing ship for they left the ‘ Golden Hope and they left us.” “But why did they do this?” asked the uncle. “Well they left us because if we’d been taken off they d have been tried for mutiny.” “But why mutiny in the first place,” inquired the uncle. “Purely out of revenge. Ye see when we had been disabled first I had rationed the men so as to make the food last as long as was possible. The men themselves wanted the tucker all at once so when I stopped them they waited their chance and when it came they took it! “Well we found ourselves on a deserted ship, hungry and thirsty, drifting onwards towards death. Roundly I cursed the Lord who offered the prize. I blamed him for our plight; for the hope of reward had made me crowd on all sail. I cursed him when I thought of our wives, soon to be widowed, when I thought of our children,, soon to be fatherless, and I blamed him when I thought of the crippled “Golden Hope,” my pride and my joy. We strove to release ourselves but to no avail, the chains were too strong.' The first day was painful, the second sheer agony, while the third my lad, I shudder to even think of it. As evening approached the light became weak and our burning sockets lost a little of their fire. Suddenly, as we hung listless in the chains we heard something enter the hold where we were. We watched. Ah, ’twas white so like true ’jammer men we suspected, a ghost. “Help us ghost,” gasped one of my companions thickly. The white thing seemed to stop. “Help us for the love of heaven,” I cried loudly, as I thought, but my voice was as a whisper. A faint meow answered me. “Who’s there?” roared a strong, unknown voice. “Saved!” I cried and for the only time in my life I fainted. I came to sometime later to find myself in a fresh bunk which swayed as to the motion of the sea. “Where am I?” I asked. “On the whaler ‘Owaka’,” came the answer from beside me. I turned and saw a jovial-faced seaman. He told me that he was the first mate of the “Owaka,” and that he had sighted the unfortunate “Golden Hope.” Thinking her a derelict, consequently dangerous to the sea trade, he had gone aboar to scuttle her. “Lucky for us,” I said. . “Yes,” was the reply, “But I also found a black cat. He was chained in the forecastle and was half starved.’ “Black cat for luck. Good old Jammy,” I said, thinking of the ships cat. “Good old boy. Well here’s tea.” “Oh grandpa thank you for telling me. It’s been great,” said the boy, “Yes,” agreed his uncle, “and while we have the chance let us drink a toast in tea to Jammy, the best black cat that ever lived. “Rather,” said the others together. -2/- and 4 marks to Cousin Patrick McMullan (15), Arthur Street, Winton.

Commended. “Hurry on, boys!” yelled John, as some boys broke loose and came ra p“ ing across the sands. “I think we will try our luck at the caves to-day.” One boy ran along to a cave and after disappearing for a few moments, he came racing back with an excited flush on his face. “Quick boys!” he cried breathlessly, “there is an old sailor; let us ask him to tell us a story.” “Oh! yes, let’s,” acknowledged the boys, starting to run. When they reached the sailor he lifted his head and a slight smile crossed his countenance. “How do you do?” asked Terry politely. “Fine,” answered the sailor hoarsely. “I was just looking for someone to talk to ” “We are out seeking adventure. Could you tell us some stories? Some about your sea-faring life,” volunteered John. “Ay, lads, sure I will, and with pleasure,” replied the old sailor, taking his oaken pipe from his mouth. “What country would you like it to be about ?” “Anything at all,” commented John, and his companions, “as long as it is thrilling and adventurous.” So the sailor began: “Many years ago, in Merrie England, the crew, including me, of the ship ‘Golden Sun,’ were given orders to visit South Africa. As we were all anxious to get home in time for Christmas, we prepared to set off right away. On the day we left, we were all inoculated in case of diseases such as malaria. When we set off we found we had an apparatus for morse code. “We sailed on and on. As we reached Cape Town a terrific storm arose and the ship struck a rock and sprang a

leak. Soon the ship sunk and we had to swim in the blinding storm for safety sake”—here the old sailor shuddered involuntarily. “After we had swum for about an hour, darkness descended. We all kept together, the captain, second mate, ship's doctor, second officer and myself. Shortly we heard the muffled beats of a harbour tug. As it drew nearer we saw it was manned, so we called for help. Soon they were at our side, and hauled us up on to the deck. “In the morning I awoke to see my companions lying death-like, as if they had been struck. Another thing that struck me spellbound was a cargo, of which obviously, was boxes of bullion. I opened my cabin door to investigate, when the horrible truth hammered on my brain. These men were thieves, gangsters! Out came the truth of the muffled beats. Just as I took a step out of my door something heavy descended on my head, and heat it to a pulp. The next thing I knew was shouts of delight and I sunk in a jelly-like heap on the floor.” The boys sat upright, with questioning looks on their faces, Their eyes also were shining with excitement. “When I came to I heard a grinding noise, and I could discern a ship beside the tug. Reaching the deck I saw, to my astonishment, the authorities of Cape Town. They had discovered the missing of the gold, and immediately set off in search of it When my three companions and myself told our stories, they took us to Cape Town and put us on the mail boat, so we„arrived home in time for Christmas.” When the sailor finished his story, he saw his audience had increased by two. The boys thanked him warmly, and scampered off, leaving the old sailor with a satisfied smile on his lips. —2 marks to Cousin Lilian Todd (14), Toa,