The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1888-05-01
MIDNIGHT ON THE DOCKS.
SHADOWS COME AND VANISH LIKE
GHOSTS IN THE DARKNESS.

the Queer Ways of the Remarkable
Characters Who Frequent the Docks
After Dark.
A sharp nor'wester had driven the watch
men of the North river docks to their stoves
and shelter, while pale moon Illuminated
the deSolate scene outside, deepening the
Somber shadows around. On the pier at the
foot of West Twenty-SiXth street reporter
approached the wharf buildings, and peered
in at window through which a light was
shining. In the room, seated in an arm
chair, uniformed, his cap ON his head, a Ian
tern close beside him, was the Waterman.
A sharp rap on the door staraed him, and
instinctively he seized the lantern and came
out
AS the reporter withdrew the Waterman
held his lantern high up in the air and peered
around at the mass of timber and rubbish,
then closed the door and returned to his
shelter.
At an adjoining wharf a canal barge
swayed gently on the waves. Attracted by
cheerful light which shone from it's cabin
window, the reporter went toward it. The
room was tastefully furnished with the Ordi-
nary comforts of a chamber 1t was a suite
of apartments gathered together in a space
about nine feet square. A kettle boiled
cheerily on the small stove in one corner, a
mirror in gilt frame hung from the ceiling,
marine chromOs decorated the walls little
white curtains adorned the windows and
canary fiuttered bout in a cage hanging in
the center of the cabin.
The reporter tapped the window, and
thin lanky boy who was whiting best2 the
stove got up, thrust his nose against the win
dow pane, then climbing the companion way
raised the hatch and appeared head and
shoulders above the cabin. A few inquiries
developed the fact that the barge was named
Mary Jane and that she carried lumber up
the Erie canal.
care you all alone on board2" He replied
with slow nod of the head
care you the captainE'
NAV, dads gone ashoor," he answered
slowly. Just then the head of a woman APP
peared beside the boy and a whispered con-
ference ensued.
''Are you the captains wife, madam"
asked the reporter.
Il reckon So" replied the woman angriIy
"but what do you want to know for? Suth-
ms wrong, [ guess" and panied expression
passed over her face as she looked with long
ing eyes toward the lights and the city in tn.
distance. In spite of assurances, her anxiety
aroused by the questions asked became
greater.
Now if suthins wrong, why don't We tell
meI' she pleaded 81 know suthin's the mat
ter. I'm sure on it, Why don't We tell me1"
''What is wrong!" asked the reporter.
''Well, We see my husband went ashore this
mOrnin' specting to return at noon, and he
amt back yet"
1t was usless to ask further questions the
woman was incOnSOlable, and refused to an
swer any. The reporter withdrew, leaving
the two figures outlined against the sky-the
wife looking anxiously toward the city, the
boy watching the lights on the river, while
the cabin within was CeSOlate
On the Wilson line steamship docks little
man leaned laZily up against post putting
kHge clouds of tobacco from pipe and gaz-
ing solemnly at the boards
pretty quiet around here?" said the re-
porter.
eyes. Somethin like a graveyard to-
night" replied the man in a deep, sepulchraI
voice, his eyes still fixed on the ground Il
was watchin' the rats scamperin about there
HIM! They're bavin' a high old time to-
night; none of the mems wOrkin' We see, and
they're undisturbed."
A stout, muscular man clothed in pea
jacket and souwester. sauntered slowly up
and down the dock, humming the ''Girl left
behind me" in a gruff, unmusical voice
''Wuz that two bells, mate?' he inquired of
the solemn individual
lone bell, replied the Waterman.
''GOod night for suicideS!" suggested the
reporter.
Eyes, or even a murder continued the
Waterman, gloomily. There's been many
ON accident and much loss of life happened
around here night times
''DO you generally attempt a rescue?'
''Of course we do. Who else would if we
didn't? You see we're so used to it that we
understand all the sounds and noises around
here. We can tell the difference between a
dash of the wave and the splash of a suicide
I l. IL
any part of this dock. Do you hear that?n
A low, plaintive sound like the moan of
some one in distress echoed near by 'ENow,
that sounds like grOan, but it amt; it's the |
wind. There, hear that? That's the side of
some ship scratchin' alongside the wharf
Some time ago a soloOn keeper had trouble |
with his wife. He took duckin and when |
we fished him out he thanked US, took a car |
and went home. No one was the wiser 'cept-
ing ourselves. Pretty women-tramps, broken
down bankers, lovers, buns, all kinds, drops |
over the side here into the river at night, and |
we generally fishes 'em out"
Don't you report these cases to the
police?"
''We amt obliged to, cause we amt officers
of the law Then we don't often see a police !
man above Fourteenth street. It's too quiet
for EN-, l guess"
SchOoners and small craft were anchored |
alongside the wharveS, while lights shOne
from the cabin windows and their columns
of smoke poured from the small chimneys on
the barges. Attracted by a light which hung
from short mast drifting about in the wind |
the reporter walked to the end Of wharf
and found a canal boat lying a few yards
from the end A solitary man paced the
deck endeavoring in every way to dodge the
cold wind. In reply to inquiries as to what
was on board the man shouted in answer:
''Nuthin. I'm light"
''Going to start!"
eyes, in half an hour; waitin' for a steam
tug now"
Two rough looking men were walking
along in the darkest portion of the road and
c11l,d,1cd