Upset in the ocean - Silent Sally - part one

                               UPSET IN THE OCEAN - SILENT SALLY - PART ONE

It was in August in 1867 that I stepped on board the deck of the "SILENT SALLY", lying in dock at Gravesend, to fill the berth of second mate.

Let me first say a word about myself.

I was a tall, handsome young fellow, squarely and powerfully built, bronzed by the sun and the moon (and even copper-coloured in spots from the effect of the stars), and with a face in which honesty, intelligence, and exceptional brain power were combined with tenacity, simplicity, and modesty.

"Welcome on board, Mr Blowhard,' called out Captain Bilge, stepping out of the binnacle and shaking hands.

I saw before me a fine sailor like man of thirty to sixty, clean-shaven, except for an enormous pair of whiskers, a heavy beard, and a thick moustache, powerful in build, in a Beside him were the first and third mate, who looked at Captain Bilge with what seemed to me an apprehensive expression in their eyes.

The vessel was on the eve of departure. Her deck presented that scene of bustle dear to the sailor's heart. Men were busy nailing up the masts and pouring hot tar down the companionway.

Captain Bilge, with a megaphone to his lips, kept calling out to the men in his rough sailor fashion.

"Now, then, don't overexert yourselves, gentlemen. Remember, please, that we have plenty of time. Keep out of the sun as much as you can. Stop carefully in the rigging there, Jones; I fear it's just a little high for you. Tut, tut, Williams, don't get yourself so dirty with that tar, you won't look fit to be seen."

I stood thinking-yes, thinking, dear reader, of my mother. I hope that you will think none the less of me for that. Whenever things looked dark in the past, I used to lean up against something and think of mother. I did so now. If they get positively black, I stand on one leg and think of father. After that I can face anything.

Meantime the ship's preparations were complete. The masts were all in position, the sails nailed up, and men with axes were busily chopping away the gangway.

"All ready?" called the Captain.

"Aye, aye, sir.'

"Then hoist the anchor in board."

Next morning with a fair wind astern we had buzzed around the corner of England and were running down the Channel.

I know no finer sight, for those who have never seen it, than the English Channel. It is the highway of the world. Ships of all nations are passing up and down, Dutch, Scotch, Venezuelan, and even American. Chinese junks rush to and fro. Warships, motor yachts, icebergs, and lumber rafts are everywhere. If I add to this fact that so thick a fog hangs over it that it is entirely hidden from sight, my readers can form some idea of the majesty of the scene.

We had now been three days at sea. My first sea-sickness was wearing off, and I thought less of father. On the third morning Captain Bilge descended to my cabin.

"Mr Blowhard,'he said, 'I must ask you to stand double watches.'

"What is the matter?'' I inquired.

"The two other mates have fallen overboard,' he said uneasily, and avoiding my eye."

I contented myself with saying 'very good, sir,' but I could not help thinking it a trifle odd that both the mates should have fallen overboard in the same night. Surely there was some mystery in this.

Two mornings later the Captain appeared at the breakfast table with the same shifting and uneasy look in his eye.

"Anything wrong, sir?' I asked.

"Yes", he answered, trying to appear at ease and twisting a fried egg to and fro between his fingers with such nervous force as almost to break it in two-I regret to say that we have lost the bosun."

"The bosun!' I cried.

"Yes," said Captain Bilge more quietly, 'he is overboard."

I looked at him fixedly but said nothing............................(PART 1 TO BE CONTINUE)

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