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THE DIFFICULTY WITH THE 'TORREADOR'S'
In the half-deck differences, sometimes leading to fisticuffs, were ofdaily occurrence; but, considering that we were boys, drawn from allparts, each with his town or county's claim to urge, we dwelt veryhappily together. Though our barque was Scotch, we were only twostrong, and at times it was very difficult to keep our end up, andimpress our Southron shipmates with a proper sense of our nationalimportance. The voice of reason was not always pacific, and on theseoccasions we could but do our best. Our Jones (of Yorkshire) was of aquarrelsome nature; most of our bickers were of his seeking, and to himour strained relations with the 'Torreador's' was mainly due.
The _Torreador_ had berthed next to us at Mission Wharf, and by theunwritten laws of the sea and the customs of the port of San Francisco,her crew should have fraternised with us; from the mates (who couldexchange views on the sizes of rope and the chances of promotion) downto the younger apprentices (who should have visited one another to'swap' ship's biscuit). With other ships matters might have beenarranged, but the _Torreador_ was a crack ship, and flew the blueensign, even on week-days; her captain was an F.R.A.S., and her boys(whose parents paid heavy premiums for the glitter) wore brass buttonsto everyday work, and were rated as midshipmen, no less! The day afterher arrival some of them were leaning over the rail looking at ourbarque, and acquaintance might have been made then and there, but Jones(who fancied himself a wit) spoiled the chances of an understanding byasking them if the stewardess had aired their socks properly thatmorning. Such a question aroused great indignation, and for over afortnight we were 'low bounders,' and they 'kid-glove sailors.'
Matters went ill between us, and our ships were too close together toignore one another altogether. The 'Torreador's' contented themselveswith looking smarter and more aggressively clean than ever, and withcasting supercilious glances all over us when they saw us chipping andscraping the rust off our vessel's topside--(they never got such jobsto do, as their Old Man was too busy cramming them up with "Sumners"and "Deviation Curves"). We replied by making stage asides to oneanother on the methods of 'coddling sickly sailors,' and Jones evenwent the length of arraying himself in a huge paper collar when he wasput over-side to paint ship. A brilliant idea, he thought it, untilthe Mate noticed him, and made his ears tingle till sundown.
The 'Torreador's' kept a gangway watch, and one of his duties seemed tobe to cross the deck at intervals and inspect our barque, crew, andequipment in a lofty manner. He would even (if his Mate--the ChiefOfficer, they called him--wasn't looking) put his hands in his becketsand his tongue in his cheek. At first we greeted his appearance withexaggerated respect; we would stand to attention and salute him instyle; but latterly, his frequent appearances (particularly as healways seemed to be there when our Mate was recounting our misdeeds,and explaining what lazy, loafing, ignorant, and 'sodgering' creatureshe had to handle) got on our nerves.
Matters went on in this way for over a week, and everybody was gettingtired of it; not only on our ship, for one day we caught a 'Torreador'openly admiring our collection of sharks' tails which we had nailed tothe jib-boom. When he found himself observed he blushed and went aboutsome business, before we had a chance to ask him aboard to see thesharks' backbones--fashioned into fearsome walking-sticks. Up town wemet them occasionally, but no one seemed inclined to talk, and a'barley' was as far away as ever. If we went to the Institute theywere to be seen lolling all over the sofas in the billiard-room,smoking cigarettes, when, as everyone knows, a briar pipe is the onlything that goes decently with a brass-bound cap, tilted at the rightangle. They did not seem to make many friends, and their talk amongthemselves was of matters that most apprentices ignore. One nightJones heard them rotting about 'Great Circle sailing,' and 'ice to thesouth'ard of the Horn,' and subjects like that, when, properly, theyought to be criticising their Old Man, and saying what an utter dufferof a Second Mate they had. Jones was wonderfully indignant at suchtalk, and couldn't sleep at night for thinking of all the finesarcastic remarks he might have made, if he had thought of them at thetime.
When our barque, by discharge of cargo, was risen in the water, we wereput to send the royal-yards down on deck, and took it as a great relieffrom our unsailorly harbour jobs. The 'Torreador's,' with enviouseyes, watched us reeving off the yard ropes. They had a Naval Reservecrew aboard to do these things, and their seamanship was mostly with amodel mast in the half-deck. They followed all the operations withinterest, and when Hansen and Eccles got the main royal yard on deck,in record time, they looked sorry that they weren't at the doing.
"Sumners" and "Deviation Curves" are all very well in their way, but aseamanlike job aloft, on a bright morning, is something stirring tobegin the day with. A clear head to find one's way, and a sharp handto unbend the gear and get the yard canted for lowering; then, with aglance at the fore (where fumblers are in difficulties with theirlifts), the prideful hail to the deck, "All clear, aloft! Lower away!"
No wonder the 'Torreador's' were not satisfied with their model mast!
Some days later we got another chance to show them how things were donealoft, and even if we were not so smart at it as we might have been,still it was a fairly creditable operation for some boys and asailorman. Our main topgal'nmast was found to be 'sprung' at the heel,and one fine morning we turned-to to send the yard and mast down. Thiswas rather a big job for us who had never handled but royal-yardsbefore; but under the able instructions of the Mate and Bo'sun, we didour work without any serious digression from the standards ofseamanship. The Mate wondered what was making us so uncommon smart andattentive, but when he caught sight of the 'Torreador's' watching ouroperations with eager eyes, he understood, and even spurred us on byshouting, "_Mister!_" (the boys of the _Torreador_ were thus addressedby their Officers) "_Mister_ Hansen, please lay out 'n the topsl-yard,'n unhook that bloody brace!"
At dusk the 'Torreador's' had stiff necks with looking aloft so much,and when we knocked off, with the yard and mast on deck, and the gearstopped-up, they went below and hid their elaborate model mast under abunk in the half-deck.
Soon after this a better feeling began. Eccles met one of the'Torreador's' up-town, and an acquaintance was made. They spent theevening together, and he learned that the other chap came from near hisplace. [It was really about fifty miles from there, but what's a fiftymiles when one is fourteen thousand miles from home?] The next eveningtwo of them came across. "To see the ship," they said. They broughtbriar pipes with them, which was rather more than we could reasonablyhave expected. Thereafter nightly visits were the rule, and we becameas thick as thieves. We took them to our bosom, and told them of manyfresh ways to rob the store-room, though they had no need to goplundering, theirs being a well-found ship. We even went the length ofelaborating a concerted and, as we afterwards found, unworkable schemeto get even with a certain policeman who had caught our Munro a clip onthe arm with his club when that youngster was singing "Rule Britannia"along the Water Front at half-past midnight. In the evenings ourrespective commanders could be seen leaning across their poop rails,engaged in genial conversation, addressing one another as "Captain" inthe middle of each sentence with true nautical punctiliousness.
Once the 'Torreador's' Old Man seemed to be propounding his views onthe training of apprentices with great earnestness. What he said wecould not hear, but our Old Man replied that he had work enough "----to get the young 'sodgers' to learn to splice a rope, cross aroyal-yard, and steer the ship decently, let alone the trouble ofkeeping them out of the store-room," and that he'd "---- nae doot butthey'd learn navigation ---- in guid time!"
The elder boys went picnicing on the Sundays to Cliff House orSaucilito; the second voyagers played team billiards together at theInstitute, and proposed one another to sing at the impromptu concerts;while the young ones--those who had only been a dog-watch at sea--madethemselves sick smoking black tobacco and talking 'ship-talk' in thehalf-deck.
Th
us we fraternised in earnest, and when the _Torreador_ left for PortCosta to load for home we bent our best ensign (though it was on aweek-day), and cheered her out of the berth.
Next week a Norwegian barque took up her vacant place. She had comeout from Swansea in ninety-eight days, and was an object of interestfor a while. Soon, though, we grew tired of the daily hammering of'stock-fish' before breakfast, and the sight of her Mate starting thewindmill pump when the afternoon breeze came away. We longed for thetime when we, too, would tow up to Port Costa, for we had a littlematter of a race for ship's gigs to settle with the 'Torreador's' andwere only waiting for our Captains to take it up and put silk hats onthe issue.
The Brassbounder: A Tale of the Sea Page 10