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- 4774
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:14.838Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 4709
- text
- The estimation in which a ship’s crew hold the knowledge of such
accomplishments as these, is expressed in the phrase they apply to one
who is a clever practitioner. To distinguish such a mariner from those
who merely _“hand, reef, and steer,”_ that is, run aloft, furl sails,
haul ropes, and stand at the wheel, they say he is _“a sailor-man”_
which means that he not only knows how to reef a topsail, but is an
artist in the rigging.
Now, alas! I had no chance given me to become initiated in this art and
mystery; no further, at least, than by looking on, and watching how
that these things might be done as well as others, the reason was, that
I had only shipped for this one voyage in the Highlander, a short
voyage too; and it was not worth while to teach _me_ any thing, the
fruit of which instructions could be only reaped by the next ship I
might belong to. All they wanted of me was the good-will of my muscles,
and the use of my backbone—comparatively small though it was at that
time—by way of a lever, for the above-mentioned artists to employ when
wanted. Accordingly, when any embroidery was going on in the rigging, I
was set to the most inglorious avocations; as in the merchant service
it is a religious maxim to keep the hands always employed at something
or other, never mind what, during their watch on deck.
Often furnished with a club-hammer, they swung me over the bows in a
bowline, to pound the rust off the anchor: a most monotonous, and to me
a most uncongenial and irksome business. There was a remarkable
fatality attending the various hammers I carried over with me. Somehow
they _would_ drop out of my hands into the sea. But the supply of
reserved hammers seemed unlimited: also the blessings and benedictions
I received from the chief mate for my clumsiness.
At other times, they set me to picking oakum, like a convict, which
hempen business disagreeably obtruded thoughts of halters and the
gallows; or whittling belaying-pins, like a Down-Easter.
However, I endeavored to bear it all like a young philosopher, and
whiled away the tedious hours by gazing through a port-hole while my
hands were plying, and repeating Lord Byron’s Address to the Ocean,
which I had often spouted on the stage at the High School at home.
Yes, I got used to all these matters, and took most things coolly, in
the spirit of Seneca and the stoics.
All but the _“turning out”_ or rising from your berth when the watch
was called at night—_that_ I never fancied. It was a sort of
acquaintance, which the more I cultivated, the more I shrunk from; a
thankless, miserable business, truly.
Consider that after walking the deck for four full hours, you go below
to sleep: and while thus innocently employed in reposing your wearied
limbs, you are started up—it seems but the next instant after closing
your lids—and hurried on deck again, into the same disagreeably dark
and, perhaps, stormy night, from which you descended into the
forecastle.
The previous interval of slumber was almost wholly lost to me; at least
the golden opportunity could not be appreciated: for though it is
usually deemed a comfortable thing to be asleep, yet at the time no one
is conscious that he is so enjoying himself. Therefore I made a little
private arrangement with the Lancashire lad, who was in the other
watch, just to step below occasionally, and shake me, and whisper in my
ear—_“Watch below, Buttons; watch below”—_which pleasantly reminded me
of the delightful fact. Then I would turn over on my side, and take
another nap; and in this manner I enjoyed several complete watches in
my bunk to the other sailor’s one. I recommend the plan to all landsmen
contemplating a voyage to sea.
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