Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1897-10-21
LOST IN HARBOR.

LOST IN HARB0R.
One golden September afternoon a
brig called the Alice of London was
running toward the land, bound for the
little port of Fordham on the southern
coast. A steady breeze coming over the
water filed her sails and sent her slip
ping along at quite record pace. The
rich, warm sunlight turned her gray
and patched canvas into gossamer. gave
an airy lightness to her clumsy spars,
flashed from the pinnacle cover and
cabin skylight, frightened up the bit of
green paint on her deckhouse and spar
kled in the spray that shot up from un-
der her bow as she rose and fell with
the motion of the waves till it looked
like showers Of diamonds. Shoreward
the faint outline of the land was just
discernible through a veil of purple
haze Overhead the sky was fecked
with clouds that were ever changing in
their shape and tints, and as for the
surface of the sea, the hues Of it that
September afternoon would have defied
the brush of the finest artist that ever
lived.
1t was an ideal sailors day, and the
mate of the Alice seemed to think SO as
he stood at the wheel, bringing his
eyes every now and again off the com
pass case to glance aloft at the swelling
canvas or away over the iridescent sea.
He was young fellow of some seven or
eight and twenty, keen of eye and
strong Of limb with no traces Of gold
lace or fine broadcloth about him-his
dress being an old pair of check trou-
sers, blue jersey and cloth cap. Be-
side him stood the skipper, 80 years
older, with fiery face and moist eyes
an ugly customer if you put him out,
but on the whole kindly natured man,
who knew every headland and every
sand bank round the British coast.
Now and then you caught sight of q
shaggy figure in shirt and trousers NOV
ing about the deck forward, and the
sound of voices came aft from the fore
castle
The Alice had never sailed better.
Already the little port was in sight,
and pretty enough it looked as they ap-
preached it. with the spars of the ship
ping peeping up above the breakwater,
behind them the red tiled roofs of the
houses on the quayside, and behind
these again the great square tower Of
Fordham church, landmark to mari
ners for many a century, and all set in
frame of chalk cliffs, green hills and
woodland and lighted up with the gold
en- sunshine that caught every scrap Of
color that was anywhere about, from
the bit of bunting on ships masthead
to the white houses upon the hillside at
the back of the town To enter the har-
Dor today was child's play.
'f you keep yonder church about
eight points on your port bow, it'll
take you straight in, 7 said the skipper.
81 dare say you could find your way
in blindfolded, I" remarked the mate.
The old man grunted and shrugged
his shoulders. 81 ought to- he an
swered "I've known it as man and
boy these so years, and many's the
time I've had to feel my way in, as you
say. Only last winter l brought up off
here in q fog that thick you couldn t
see half mile ahead of you, slack
tide and light wind. But l got in
without scrape
Another time was in charge of a
topsail schooner, got caught in a gale
in the channel and lost our topmast. A
heavy sea was running across the bar,
and thick snow squalls hid the land
every now and again. / put two men
at the wheel. kept the lead going, told
all hands to hold ON like grim death
and got in without parting rope yarn.
But wouldn't t care to do it again. It's
all right when you get inside; but, as
you can see for yourself, when you get
a strong sou 'wester and heavy sea it s
dangerous port to make. The timbers
of many stout craft are scattered
along this coast in winter time. Have
ever been ashore here? Yes; twice
The first time ! made mistake in the
tides and grounded outside the bar, but
luckily it was fair weather, and she
came of safely next tide. The next
time thought it was all up with us
We were being towed out in the teeth
of half a gale, when the hawser parted
and we fonled the pier, carrying away
all the headgear and went ashore just
inside the breakwater If it had been
outside, she'd have been smashed into
matchwood before morning. But, though
I've been In and out of Fordham some
times two or three times year for the
last so years, I never see that church
without being reminded of my first voy-
age and its ending,
Il was slip of lad, barely 10 at
the time, and d shipped aboard ketch
called the Pride of Rochester, for want
Of better craft. You know what that
means little food and plenty of ropes
end, that was my fare. The skipper was
a savage and drunken one, too, and /
believe if it hadn been for the mate, a
man named Tucker, should have been
pitched overheard before the voyage was
over. We were bound here with cargo
of States The weather was fine, and we