The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1897-02-21

o Hat was raining and wet wind slapped
y : me in the face as l went splashing
1S through the little puddles one NIGHT
Gown Meiggs wharf in the wake of three
rubber-coated pilots. On the extreme end
Of the big dock we stopped and peered oft
in the thickness across the tidewav that
ran with little unseen bubblines and
splashlngs out in the gloom. There i,
nothing, think, so calculated to brinc mn
uneasy thoughts as the uncannv guryIinp
OF Inc uoe against the dock piles at night.
One falls to imagining that the black.
emily, SHINY waters have found suicide
floating in the darkness under the wharf.
and are laughing at it. Probably tossing
1t here aud there against the shell-coated
tlmoers, and enjoying the helplessness of
Inc victim OF their play. l wish self-de-
strucuonists would stay ashore, for when
the sea Is called upon to give up its dead
IN that last day, and its victims line up on
the beach, 1t will have enough to answer
for, let alone those that have plunged
voluntarily off the pier head to death, and
have drifted out with the tide.
l wish-but my wishing is interrupted
by hoarse hail of bonita ahoy!' as big,
burly Pilot Meyer sends his hurricane
voice hurting away through the storm
and. the night. Presently we hear the
well-known drumming OF the oars IN the
roWlocks and little white spectral yawI
bumps its nose agains: the landing, We
all climb down the slippery steps and en-
ter the craft There is about an eighth of
an inch of water on the thwarts ad herring
to. the seats by capillary attraction, but
4 We sit cheerfully down in the wet and.
with the rain pelting industTiouslv at us.
we pulled out TO the pilot-boat Bonita.
Down into her cozy saloon I followed NV
three guides and hosts, and seated on a
cushioned locker was glad 1 did not have
TO heave up anchor and cast off the sail
stops in stormy winter night.
Presently the pawls on the windlass
ceased their clanking and the rattle of
. the ballard blocks, accom- panied by
slight list of the vessel, told me that we
were under way. The stiff southeastern
got into our canvas and we swung quickly
out TO sea. The great lamps on the heads
tossed US bright goodnight as we went
by, the gallant Bonita kicking the foam
behind her under reefed foresail and
mainsail and bonnetless iib
&c The old line, 20 pilot, tits q fearful
night" kept floating through my brain
as the storm howled around us and the
whitecaps cleaned ghostly on the great
waves where the harbor bar was moan
ing" But pilots must work while others
sleep ana the brave pilot-boat searches
the sea through the hours of night and
storm for the befogged mariner and his
ship.
When the clouds lie heavily on the har-
Dor bar blotting out the foam-crested
swell breaking there; when the thick,
drenching mist bIurs the land bearings
and a palIid desolation shuts down on
the leaden waters; when the inbound
craft draw away from the sheeted dangers
OF. q rocky coast and run for the safe
open ocean, a specter fits through the
white sodden spaces.
1t is not Vlsitant fraught with infiu-
ences mystic ana uncanny, arising from
the dank under caverns where sleep the !
dead things of the sea to lure the be- |
wildered ships down to the silent place of !
the weeks. Sailors know there is no
peril in that apparitlon, for it is the ap-
pearing of the while-sailed genius of the
safe portage that lies behind the billow-
beaten harbor gates. So comes the pilot
boat, the welcome messenger from the
shore to the approaching vessel, lifting
her oceen-worn sides to the long swell in
the ofing, and always may that first
visitor be found fitting outward on Its
mission.
In the golden calm OF the noontide,