The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, 15 October 1908, Page 3

The Storyteller

FITZGERALD'S iLUCK

The topsail schooner Molly HarwodcTlay in Carlisle Bay, off the sweltering city of Bridgetown, Barbados/ ' She "was a Newfoundland vessel, just up from Brazil, in ballast, and was now -awaiting orders. -Her master, Captain Wooly,- was ashore at - the consignee's office. "' i- , _ Mr. Fitzgerald, the • mate, -was 'painting the life-preservers . that hung under the rail aft. - He wore a wide stra^ hat, blue cotton shirt, and paint-bedaubed overalls. As your see, he was no fancy mariner. In port a; oh the high seas he had his work to do. He did^it, but' of late silently and without- joy. -^ The cause of his gloom was the fact that his master's certificate was three years old, ,and he was still mate of the Moliy -> Harwood. . - .* . . He had sailed the seas ever -since his fourteenth birthday that was sixteen years ago-rand always in Newfoundland '-windjammers,' with their eternal outward freights of 'fish.' He was a good seaman and a capable officer. His naviga- , tion was sound, and his courage and caution wene above criticism.. But ashore, especially in the owner's office, he displayed a flustered countenance and a stuttering tongue, For-^his reason he • had been kept from a master's berth.' A smajOhing.-wiU' sometimes belie a man's true worth in the eyes of his employers. : 'As Mr; Fitzgerald moodily but thoroughly slapped the white paint over the life-preservers, he kept a veiled eye on a trim vessel that lay about thirty yards aft of the Molly Harwood., The trim craft was the schooner-rigged auxiliary yacht' Venturer of the New York Yacht Club. Mr. Fitzgerald had been keeping his eye on the V^entu^tfor. the past two days. He was in love with her. Already -every slow-sweeping line of her hull and' every characteristic." of snjdrjf& and rigging were printed on his mind. To sailja vessel Tike that would be the crowning accomplishment of a'jseafaring^life, -. it seemed to him. But not all of Fitzgerald's attention was glven~*to the yachtJ^ f .for there was "a "stout, red-faced man aboard the Venturer, whir excited his animosity as greatly as the craft herself excited her." affection. /The reason .for it was no reason at all, for a sailor has his whims and fancies, his unfounded likes and dislikes, aSj illogical as # those of a school-girl or a poet. The stout, reof-^ I faced man oh- the Venturer had never done anything to offend the mate of the Molly Harwood, but for all that, Mr. Fitzgerald eyed him with ever-growing disfavor. He did not like the cut of his jib. He did not like to see" him leaning so casually 'on the raiJ of the yacht, and defiling the bright deck with cigar ashes. It grieved him to see a man who was so evidently a landlubber making himself so free and easy aboard such a craft as that. "His prejudiced eyes- beheld in that stout stranger a subject upon which to vent all his chagrin at still being mate of a topsail schooner. He did so in muttered epithets that would have amazed the other could he'have heard them. While Fitzgerald was still improving the appearance of tho. ancient life-preservers, the stout man put off from the Venturer in a^ varnished and upholstered gig. He sat alone in the sternsheets., aya v vision of white clothing, white helmet; and red face.." Three sailors, dressed man-of-war style,, in neat blue and .white, manned the oars. - As the boat passed under the counter of the iittle freFghteT, the man glanced up at -Fitzgerald. ' That's good,' said he. ' A little of the same treatment wouldn't hurt the rest of her.' - The mate leaned over the rail, paint-brush in hand. He had something scathing^ to reply, but instead of saying it he could. only stutter angrily, and glare at the grinning" man in' the fast-receding boat. ' ' When Captain Wooly came aboard in ".the afternoon he , brought word that the sailing-master of the Venturer was in hospital with sunstroke, and that x Mr. Benton, the ;owner, was looking out for a substitute. _ -^ - v 'You should apply for the job, Mr.. Fitzgerald,' said he. , 'You're just the style for 'that class of craft, and" I guess the bosun and I could sail the Molly home all right.' ' ♦The mate scowled. He did not relish the captain's efforts -.at wit. ._ . — ./' Try it for yourself, sir, 'he 'replied, .; "' . J A.ye, but d'ye think the owners would let me go? 1 asked Wooly, self-complacently.

A few minutes later the captain returned to the shore in the boat that had brought him off. He was a busy man while _in port. It may be late when I comq aboard!' he called back to Fitzgerald. ' I'm going to dine with a friend. out of tqwn.' : Until six bells* the mate kept the men busy at laying a couple of new planks in the topgallant-forecastlehead^ After supper he got his nautical almanac from his berth, and settled himself comfortably in the outer cabin. But he could not keep his mind on the printed pages. The light was bad and the type was small. Outside the night* was .black with the fat clouds of the rainy season. Forward the men were singing a ' Come-all-ye,' to the accompaniment of Pat Phincy's concertina. There were twenty-nine stanzas to the song, and Fitzgerald wondered if he would not have been wiser to devote his -leisure to the inventing of ' Come-all-ye's ' instead of to the unprofitable study of navigation. At least he would have had more fun, and fewer hurts to his pride. > Suddenly there came a swirl of wind and rain that blew out the cabin lamp and sent the singers bolting into the forecastle. Fitzgerald shouted to the steward to shut the skylight and look to the ports. Then he hurried into his oilskins and went on deck. Through the blackness the lights of the yacht blinked feebly, and over the side the wind-torn water gleamed white. The rain wae hurled across the decks in deluging sheets. The Molly Harwood, pressed down by the squall ancl wrenched about by the seething water, rode up to her cable with trembling skips, like a nervous pony. Fitzgerald tied his southwester under his chin and clung to the starboard mizzen-stay. The tumult drove the gloom from his thoughts and the discontent from his blood. The rain drenched his face and ran through ,his beard. He leaned forward, side wise. He had caught -a sound that was not of the raging elements. It was hurled from that point in the darkness, where the Venturer's lights blinked through the wet. It sounded like the crashing of a bulk of wood against rock or iron. Then he heard cries of desperation. He tore the life-preservers from their fastenings and hurled them aft. Then he pulled off his boots, oilskins and southwester, and dived into the black-and-white tumult astern. / It is a strange fact that few Newfoundlanders can swim Those who can have acquired the accomplishment in other places. It chanced that Fitzgerald was one of the few, and he was a giant in the water. Fifteen minutes later Fitzgerald caught hold of one of the Venturer's patent life-rafts with his right hand. With his left he had a firm grip on the collar of the stout owner of the yacht. With a tremendous effort he got the half-unconscious man partially out of the water, and made him fast to the raft with the pieces of line that floated from it. Then, after recovering his breath, he began shouting for help. By this time both wind and rain had spent most of their violence, and the mate's voice carried far and wide. Th.-» yacht's life-boat picked them up within twenty-five minutes of ' the accident, in which the gig had been crushed and upset at the very foot of the Jacob s-ladder. Two of the gig's crew had reached the ladder safely. The other had encountered one of the Molly Harwood's preservers, and had kept afloat until found by the life-boat. * Fitzgerald felt none Ihe worse for his adventure, but Mi.' Benton had to be taken in hand by his friend and passenger, Dr. Van Thorpe. At last he opened his eyes. ' Where's the big fellow who picked me up?' he inquired. They sent for Fitzgerald, who was composedly drinking coffee in the galley. 1 You are one of the crew, of the Molly Harwood, I believe,' said the owner of the yacht. ' I'm her mate, 1 replied Fitzgerald, staring about him at the fittings of the cabin. 1 I saw you doing some painting to-day.' ' Aye. ' . 'It's not much of a- berth, then— mate of the Molly Harwood. ' ' I don't mind the painting,' replied Fitzgreald. ' I'd paint her fore and aft, and- throw in the gilding on her. name, but itVsaUing mate of that little fish-drum when I've had a master's certificate in my chest these three- years that makes^me mad.'The unusual efforts bf the "past half-hour had freed his tongue of embarrassment. •What's the reason of it? There must be a reason,' said Benton. -. ' It's my manners, 'replied the mate. • ' The owners- don't like my manners'.'

The doctor laughed. " Well, they were better than mine to-day,' said the big yachtsman. • And oh lop of that, you saved, me from drowning. That's the kind of politeness I like, .at sea or ashore/ • It -was late when Captain Wooly returned to his vessel from dining with his out-of-town friend." If He found the mate on the • teak .grating aft by the wheel. . .VEverything been all right, Air-.' Fitzgerald?' inquired the captain. J • ' Aye, sir,' replied-Fitzgerald. - " ' That was a tremendous blow we had a few hours ago, Mr, Fitzgerald,' continued Wooly. He was relieved to find that the squall had done no damage." - '. ' ' Stiff enough, sir,' agreed the mate. " He was a man of few words, and the captain soon left him to his meditations, and went below to his bed. - Soon after breakfast the next morning Dr. Van Thorpe hailed the Molly Harwood frdm the bridge of the Venturer. ' Mr. Benton wants to speak to Captain Wooly ! ' he shouted. ' And he wants the captain to come aboard, as he is not able to leave his cabin. 1 Wooly, changed his roat in quick time, and told the ordinary seaman to man the boat. 'That's sociable of him,' he remarked, 'for I've only' met him once. But I wonder what's keeping him to his cabin.' ' Maybe he's hurt himself,' replied Fitzgerald, who was already busy at mending sails. In about half an hour the captain returned. He stepped up on the deck of the Molly with 'the air of a sleep-walker,- and advanced straight upon Fitzgerald. • Very slowly he drew two gold coins from his pocket. ' D'ye see those?' he inquired. ' Aye,' replied the mate. ' Well, 1 continued Wooly, ' I'm taking them ashore, and I'm going to cable to the owners lor your discharge— at Mr. Benton 's expense. ' ' My discharge!' cried Fitzgerald. ' Aye,' replied Wooly, ' your discharge. Mr. Benton wants you to sail his yacht for him, and I'm not the kind to-' stand in the way of any man's promotion.' — Youth's Companion.