VIII
WORK!
Scarcely was our anchor down in 'Frisco Bay than the boarding-house'crimps' were alongside, beaming with good-fellowship, and tumblingover one another in their anxiety to shake 'Jack' by the hand, and totell him of the glorious openings and opportunities for smart sailormenashore. The Mate vainly endeavoured to prevent them boarding the ship,but with the ordinary harassing duties incident on arrival, and theextraordinary matter of a serious fire in the hold, he could not doeverything; so the 'crimps' installed themselves in the fo'cas'le, andthe grog (Welcome-home Brand) was flowing far and free.
The starboard watch were aloft furling the tops'ls, and only thepresence of the Captain and Mates at the foot of the rigging kept themfrom joining the hilarious crowd in the fo'cas'le. The Mate's watchhad been employed at the ground tackle, and had dodged in and out ofthe fo'cas'le; so that, in a very short time, they were all 'threesheets in the wind,' and making for trouble. Vootgert, the Belgian,was the first to fall foul of the Mate, and that sorely-tried Officercould hardly be blamed for using all four limbs on the offending'squarehead.' Seeing their shipmate thus handled, the watch would haveraised a general melee, but the boarding-house 'crimps,' having noliking for police interference, succeeded in calming the valiant onesby further draughts of their fiery panacea. To us boys (who had heardgreat tales of revolvers and other weapons being freely used by shipcaptains in preventing their men from being 'got at') these mutinousongoings were a matter of great wonderment; but, later, we learned thatfreights were low, and we were likely to be many months in 'Frisco;that crews' wages and victualling, when the ship is earning no money,reflect on the professional character of an old-time shipmaster, andthat to baulk the 'crimps' on arrival means an expensive delay inmaking up a crew when the ship is again ready for sea.
Wee Laughlin and the nigger were the first to yield to the eloquence oftheir visitors. No one was surprised that the Mate let Laughlin clearwithout interference. A poor sailor, though a lot had been licked intohim since he left the 'Poort,' he was not worth keeping. His kindcould be picked up on the Water Front any day. He had come on board atGreenock--a pierhead jump, with his wardrobe on his back and a'hauf-mutchkin' of very inferior whisky in his pocket. Now, to ourastonishment, he threw a well-filled bag over the side before he sliddown the rope into the 'crimp's' boat. Long intending to desert whenwe arrived, he had taken as much of his pay in clothes and slop-chestgear as the Old Man would allow. It was said, too, that a lot of poorDuncan's clothes never came to auction, and more than one suspected WeeLaughlin of a run through Duncan's bag before the Old Niven got forwardand claimed what was left.
That well-filled bag!
To the Second Mate, who was eyeing his departure, he flung asalutation, first seeing that his line of retreat was clear. "Weel, solong, Mister, ye Hielan' ----, ye can pit ma fower pun ten i' yer e'e'n ca' yersel' a bloody banker!"
No one saw the nigger go, but gone he was, bag and baggage; and loudwere the curses of the cook, to whom he owed four pounds of tobacco forlosses at crib.
While all this was going on, and the 'crimps' were marking down theirprey, the crew of the fire-float had located the fire and cut a hole inthe 'tween-decks above the hottest part. Through this a big ten-inchhose was passed, and soon the rhythmic _clank-clank_ of their pumpbrought 'Frisco Bay to our assistance.
Darkness fell on a scene of uproar. Everything was at sixes and sevensforward, and the discipline of five months was set at naught. Drunkenmen tumbled over the big hose and slippery decks, and got in thefiremen's way; steam enveloped the decks as in a fog; dim figures ofmen struggled and quarrelled; curses and hoarse shouts came from thefo'cas'le, whence the hands were being driven by the rising smoke andsteam; rushing figures transferred their few belongings to saferquarters; and through all throbbed the steady _clank-clank_ of thefire-engine.
A strange contrast to the quiet and peaceful scene about us--with a lowmoon over San Rafael, and the lights of the shipping reflected in theplacid water. A few fishing-boats were drifting out on the tide, withcreak of oar and rowlock; and above all was the glare of the lightedstreets and harbour lights of the great city.
Not long had we to contrast the scenes, for the Mate, and the Old Manhimself, were at our backs, man-driving the few sober hands, to make upfor their inability to handle the skulkers. They did not sparethemselves in driving, and at salving the gear in the lamp-room theCaptain made a weird picture, black and grimy, with a cloth over hismouth, passing the lamps out to the boys.
With such a volume of water pouring below, it was necessary to get apump in position to keep our craft afloat. She was now far down by thehead and had a heavy list, and as the ship's pumps would not draw, theFiremaster arranged to put one of his pumps into the fore-peak. Tomake this efficient, we had to raise the sluice in the forrardbulkhead; and even the Old Man looked anxious when the Carpenterreported that the sluice was jammed, and that the screw had broken inhis hands. The stream of water into the hold was immediately stopped,and all available hands (few enough we were) were put to clearing thefore-peak, that the sluice could be got at. In this compartment allthe ship's spare gear and bos'un's stores were kept, and the lower holdheld ten tons of the ship's coal. The small hatchway made despatchimpossible, and the want of a winch was keenly felt. It wasback-breaking work, hauling up the heavy blocks, the cordage, sails andtarpaulins, chains, kegs and coils, and dragging them out on deck. Asuffocating atmosphere and foul gases below showed that the seat of thefire was not far off, and often the workers were dragged up in asemi-conscious state. The Mate was the first to go down, and he hungout till nature rebelled, and he was dragged up and put in the openair. There the aggrieved Belgian saw him, and, maddened by drink, tookadvantage of his exhaustion to kick him viciously in the ribs; butJones promptly laid the Dutchman out with a hand-spike.
In a moment the drink, discontent, excitement, and overwork found ventin furious riot: shipmates of five months' standing, comrades in fairweather and foul, were at each other's throats, and amid the smoke andsteam no man could name his enemy. Welsh John, in trying to get youngMunro out of harm's way, was knocked down the open hatch, and he lay,groaning, with a broken arm, amid the steam and stench. Hicks, thebo'sun, was stabbed in the cheek, and someone knocking the lamps over,added darkness to the vicious conflict. Blind and blaspheming, animalsall, we fought our way to the doors, and the malcontents, in ill plightthemselves, cared little to follow us.
Meantime the Firemaster, seeing how matters stood, called his mentogether and turned a hose into the fo'cas'le. The thin, viciousstream proved too much for the mutineers, and we were soon inpossession again. John was taken up from the fore-peak (he was farthrough) and carried aft. The mutineers, such as were fit, were putdown below to dig coals till they could dig no more; and again the workwent on--weary, body-racking work.
With aching eyes and every muscle in revolt, we toiled on in silence,not even a curse among us. Silence, broken only by the rattle of theblock-sheave, as the baskets of coal were hove up and emptied. Therewas now no need for the Old Man to hold himself in readiness, withsomething in his pocket that bulged prominently, for there was not anounce of fight left in the crowd, and 'Smith and Wessons' areill-fitting things to carry about. Two hours we had of this, and givein was very near when the welcome news came up that they had got at thesluice, that the water was trickling through. Soon after, the sluicewas prised up, and the pent-up water rushed into the peak. TheFiremaster passed his pipe below, and again the pumps were set agoing.
We staggered out into the fresh morning air, red-eyed and ragged, and amadhouse gang we looked in the half-light of an early Californian dawn.Faces haggard and blackened by the smoke, eyes dazed and bloodshot, andon nearly everyone evidence of the ten minutes' sanguinary encounter inbruised eyes and bloody faces. The Mate called a muster to serve outgrog, and of our crew of twenty-seven hands only fifteen answered thecall. The Old Man tried to make a few remarks to the men. He h
ad beenfrequently to the bottle through the night, for his speech was thickand his periods uncertain.
"No bloody nozzush, b' Goad ... tan' no nozzush, Mis'r----" was aboutthe burden of his lay.
With a modest glass of strong rum to raise our spirits momentarily, welingered before going below to note the wreck and confusion that ouronce trim barque was now in. She was still down by the head, andlisted at an awkward angle. The decks were littered with gear andstores, muddy and dirty as a city street on a day of rain. Aloft, theill-furled tops'ls hung bunched below the yards, with lazy gasketsstreaming idly in mid-air; and the yards, 'lifted' at all angles, gavea lubberly touch to our distressed appearance. The riding-light, stillburning brightly on the forestay, though the sun was now above thehorizon, showed that we had lost all regard for routine.
A damp mist, the 'pride o' the morning,' was creeping in from seaward,and the siren at the Golden Gate emitted a mournful wail at intervals.Near us, at the anchorage, a big black barque, loaded and in sea-trim,was getting under weigh, and the haunting strain of 'Shenandoah,' mostbeautiful of sea-chanteys, timed by the musical _clank_ of the windlasspawls, was borne on the wind to us.
"An outward-bounder, and a blue-nose at that," said Martin.
We wondered if Wee Laughlin was already in her fo'cas'le, with askinful of drugged liquor to reckon with. The 'crimps' lose no time ifthey can get their man under, and Wee Laughlin, by his own glory of it,was a famous swallower.
In the half-deck, some of the boys were already turned in, and lying inuneasy attitudes, with only their boots and jackets off. Jones, whohad been severely handled in the scrimmage, was moaning fitfully in hissleep, his head swathed in bloody bandages, and the pallor showing inhis face through the grime and coal-dust. Hansen was the last man in.He threw himself wearily down on the sea-chests, now all of a heap toleeward, snatched a pillow from under Munro's head, and composedhimself to rest.
"Mate says I'm to keep watch, 'n call him at eight bells; but, judgin'by th' way he put the grog down, I'm damn sure he'll stir tack norsheet till midday.... Firemaster says she's under hand, 'n he'll havethe fire out in two hours, 'n she can bally well look out forherself.... T' hell with an anchor watch; I can't keep my eyes open,an' 'll work ... work ... no m----"
The Brassbounder: A Tale of the Sea Page 8