Off to Sea: The Adventures of Jovial Jack Junker on his Road to Fame
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I was very glad not to have to go aloftjust then, right up into the darkness, amid the slashing of ropes, andthe flapping of sails, and the fierce whistling of the blast as itrushed through the rigging. So, I have an idea, was Dicky Plumb, thoughhe had been boasting so boldly the previous afternoon. I remember beingordered aft with other boys, to man the mizen-topsail clew-line, whichwe did, and pulled, and hauled away, till we were ordered to belay.This is the only piece of service I recollect rendering to my countrythat night. When the ship was got under snug sail, the crew were pipeddown; and I, with the watch below, turned in. I was, however, by thistime, feeling rather curious. I had hitherto been very well, andremarkably jolly; and was sure I was going to make a first-rate sailor.The ship, however, began to roll, and went on rolling more and more.Not only I, but most of the other boys, and many of the men, too, werelooking very queer. I had a friend I have not mentioned before--TommyPunchon by name--a fine little chap. He had never seen a ship before hecame on board the _Roarer_; but he had read of ships, and foreign lands,and that made him come to sea, he told me. Now he had heard there wassuch a thing as sea-sickness, but he was not going to knock under toit--not he. I met Tommy coming along the lower deck (I am speaking nowof the next morning), looking very green and yellow; indeed, all sortsof colours; perhaps I looked the same, I rather think I did. I askedhim how he felt. "Very jolly, eh?"
"Oh, don't! don't!" he answered, with the corners of his mouth curlingdown. "It's an awful reality; I must confess it." Just then, I caughtsight of Dicky Plumb, who had been sent along the deck on some duty,which he had evidently a difficulty in performing. I doubt if hismother would have owned him, so crest-fallen he looked. I dared notspeak to him. He, indeed, cast an imploring look at me, as much as tosay, "Don't!" On he went, trying to reach the midshipmen's berth, butovercome by his feelings--miserable I know they were, from experience--he stopped, and if Sergeant Turbot had not caught him in his arms, hewould have sunk down on the deck. The sergeant, however, helped himalong, till he got him stowed safely away in the berth, where there wereprobably several other young gentlemen in a like prostrate condition.Meantime, I grew worse and worse. Tommy and I were soon joined by otherboys--a most miserable crew--and we all together went and stowedourselves away in the fore part of the ship, thinking that no one wouldbe troubled about such wretched creatures as we were. My grand idea wasa hope that some one would come and throw me overboard. We lay thus forsome time unnoticed, and began to hope that we should not be discovered.Still, I must say, I did not care what happened to us. I asked Tommyhow he felt.
"Oh, Jack! Jack?" he groaned out, "Do take me by the head and heels,and heave me overboard, there's a good fellow!"
"That's just what I was going to ask you to do for me," I answered, inthe same dolorous tone, though I have an idea, that if any one hadactually taken us at our word, the cold water would soon have restoredus to health, and we should have wished ourselves on board again.Suddenly, we were all aroused by a gruff voice sounding in our ears,and, looking up, who should we see, but that hard-hearted individual,Bryan Knowles, the ship's corporal, standing over us, cane in hand.
"What are all you boys idling here for?" he growled out. "Rouse up,every one of you; rouse up, you young villains, and go to your duty?"
Poor little wretches that we were; as if we could possibly do anythingbut just crawl from one place to another, and lie down, wishing to die.But it was not only the boys who were ill, but great hulking fellows,some seamen, but mostly marines; fully fifty of them, lying and rollingabout the decks like logs of wood. I need not further describe thescene, or enter into too minute particulars.
At length, old Futtock, the boatswain--a friend of Sergeant Turbot's--gave me leave to go and lie down in his cabin till I should get better.The very feeling that I had some one to care for me did me good.
In most ships there is a dirty Jem; we had one, a miserable fellow, witha skin which no amount of washing could cleanse. Now it happened that aparty of tall marines had stolen down the fore cock-pit, and havingfound their way into the cable tier, had snugly stowed themselves onsome spare sails and hawsers. There they lay, groaning and moaning, andmaking other noises significant of what was going on, when Mr.Maconochie, a big, burly Scotchman, mate of the orlop deck, comingforward, heard them, and very soon began to peer about with his largegoggle eyes into the recesses of the tier. I dreaded the consequences,as, slipping out of the cabin where I had been, I looked out to see whathe was about.
"What are you sodgers doing there?" he roared out, in a furious passionat seeing what they had been about.
One of them, with a wicked leer, at once pointed to Dirty Jem, who layfast asleep not far off. Now, whether Mr. Maconochie thought he couldnot punish the marines, and was glad to get hold of some otherindividual on whom to vent his rage, I do not know; but, be that as itmay, he roused up the poor boy, and having boxed his ears, ordered himto take one of the steerage, that is, a midshipman's hammock--which hadbeen left by the marine who ought to have lashed it up--and to carry itup and stow it in the poop nettings. Poor Jem poked his fingers intoone of the turns, and began to drag the big hammock along, but so weakwas he that he could scarcely move. I do not think he could ever havegot up, even to the lower deck. Fortunately for Dirty Jem, Mr. Blunt,who would allow no one but himself to bully, and that he never did,happened to come down, and inquiring why he was dragging the hammock,ordered him to put it down, and hauled Mr. Maconochie pretty severelyover the coals for his barbarity. The marines had meantime sneaked off,and thus escaped the mate's rage. I had got nearly well by this time,and thought, as the ship was still tumbling about, that I was going toenjoy myself. The captain, however, having ascertained that we had gotour sea legs and sea stomachs into order, ordered the ship's corporal toturn us out of our hammocks at four o'clock next morning to muster atthe lee gangway. We there had to answer to our number, and then camethe pipe--
"Watch and idlers, holystone decks?"
We were sent on to the poop, and were employed for some time amidst theslashing and dashing of water, working away on our bare knees on thesanded decks, grinding them with the holystones. Then we had to scrubwith hard brushes, while the captain of the mizen-top kept dashingbuckets full of water round us, often sending one right into our faces.There were generally one or two of the midshipmen there, who had topaddle about, with their trousers tucked up and their feet and legsbare; however, as the first-lieutenant set them the example, they had nocause to complain.
For a whole day I had seen nothing of Dicky Plumb. At length, onemorning, who should appear on deck but the young gentleman himself. Helooked doubtingly at first at what was going forward, then off heslipped his shoes and socks, rolled up his trousers, and began like theothers running here and there, seeing that all hands worked away with awill. We had to muster for numerous purposes--to see that we wereclean, and that our hammocks were lashed up properly. The latter wassevere work; for, the hammocks being heavy and we little, when the shipwas rolling it was as much as we could do, and sometimes more than wecould do, to hold on to them, and keep ourselves from rolling awayacross the deck. Poor Jem (Dirty Jem, I mean) was often in trouble.The lieutenant made us tuck up our shirt-sleeves and trousers, and thenlift our arms and legs to see that they were properly washed. Dirty Jemhad really got his arms clean up to his elbows, and legs up to theknees.
"Turn up your shirt-sleeves higher, boy, and your trousers too," saidthe lieutenant.
A dark rim of dirt was seen at each place.
"Corporal, give this boy twelve finnams!" exclaimed the lieutenant.
"Please, sir, I didn't know that we were to muster there," splutteredout Dirty Jem.
The excuse, however, did not save him. He got the finnams, and had toclean himself into the bargain. To the latter operation he objectedeven more than the first, and seemed to think it a very hard case ofcruelty. However, I shall have no space for our adventures in the farEast, if I go spinning my yarn in this style. We touch
ed at Madeira,the chief object, I fancy, being to procure a cask or two of wine forthe captain and the admiral on the station. Hearing one day that wewere nearing the line, I, with Tommy Punchon and several other boys,were very anxious to know what that could mean. I promised to askSergeant Turbot. I did so. He looked very wise, and replied--"Why, youunderstand, Jack, that the line is what you don't see, but it's there,and runs right round the world, from east to west, or west to east, it'sall the same. And then it's very hot there, because the sun is rightoverhead, and for the same cause it's always summer, and the days areneither very long nor very short, and there are mostly calms. For thisreason, and because he could not pick out a more comfortable part of thewhole watery-world, the king of the ocean, Daddy Neptune, as we callhim, once on a