The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1901-08-10
CAPTAIN TOM

\ TO san Diego, Cal. His father, con-
sumptive, was no longer able to work.
His mother, a tiny, cheerful, busy wo-
| mfan with three small children besides
Tom, had her hands full with nursing
| her husband making, mendinS, cook
| ing and caring for the family. They
! had been In their new home for three
months, living away their small capt.
! tai and with no prospect of earning a
dollar The boom was over. The town
was overrun with fasteners. men and
women in frail health, willing to work
| for small pay at anything that would
| yield them sustenance. And so Tom,
the hope Of his courageous little moth
err, had tried everything and failed to
| get work.
| 1t was then that he hit upon the idea
of becoming a fisherman. For a week
before he preached the subject at home
! he had patrolled the shore from Point
Iona to the Coronado Beach in search
of a boat He had only fifteen dollars,
and of the scores of small craft that
could be bought at all there was hit
one within his means. A leaky lugger
with frayed old sails and an impossible
Spanish name, shrinking of fish and with
dirty black hull lay moored off the
Portuguese village on the north shore
Of the bay, and thither day after day
poor Tom trudged, big with his secret.
One Saturday night he startled the
family with:
"Well, people, I'm a sea captain at
last and, no joke. Mother, behold your
son, Captain Thomas Clafiin of the
good ship Little Mother. ="
The little woman's blue eyes were
filled with tears when her boy showed
them the bill of sale to the effect that
he had bought vessel for $3.50, and
thus, like a ue-blue Chicagoan, risked
his all in the only business venture In
sight.
Il named her for you, mother. and
you must christen her and take sail
in her tomorrow"
With basket of luncheon and pail
and shovel FOR CLAIMS. the Clafin fam
lily, with Tom proudly leading the way,
went down to the beach in the morning.
Sure enough, there lay the Little
Mother" swinging gracefully at her
mornings, no longer dingy and black,
but radiant in a coat Of fresh white
paint, her sails mended and ship
shape, the stars and stripes fluttering
from her peak and her name In bold
blue letters across her bows. Toms
lit tie brother and sisters danced with
delight, new light came into his faith
er's eyes, and as for Little Mother,
the patron saint of that. first voyage,
she laughed and cried by turns as she
sat in the stern of the boat and
watched Tom, the captain, and little
Charley, the first mate, both bub-
bling over with excitement and nauti-
cal terms, Juggling at ropes, running
about like regular jack tars and max
ing all ready "to put to sea" as Tom
said.
AS the boat, driven by a cool SOU
east breeze, stood out across the bay
for the Iona lighthouse. Tom showed
them all the new hand-pump he had
rugged into his little ship" he ex-
planned the centerboard, pointed out
the imaginary beauties and qualities of
the Little Mother" boosted of what he
feant to accomplish as a professional
fisherman and made everybody so hap
py that it seemed no time at all till the
sun YVES dipping into the sea and the
first cruise of the Little Mother" was
over
And the boy made good money with
his modest venture. He would rise
with the sun each morning, and with
his dinner pail and coarse tackle make
for the boat that had become to him
both sweetheart and provider. His
greatest difficulty was his need of an
assistant, and many was the barracuda
and giant jewish that escaped him in
his lonely, all-day cruises up and down
that matchless summer sea. Some
times he would induce some lazy wharf
idler to accompany him. sometimes old
Pedro, the retired Portuguese from
whom he had bought the boat would
hail him as he stood out to sea and
help him with the work. Sometimes,
when the sea was like floor of gleam-
ing onyx, his father would sit in the
stern sheets, and little Charley would
man the lib or troll a line for small
fish, but alone or with "a crew" Tom
never failed to bring home at night
fish so that his earnings at the
end of the week were almost enough to |
pay the running expenses of the frugal |
little family.
It was in the end of August that the |
Monterey, the monster boast defense
monitor returned from her first cruise. |
She had been in South American wa |
ters for four months, and the crew got |
It's first shore leave on American soil |
at San Diego The big war vessel was
thrown cnen to visitors one Sunday |
morning, and all that day Tom Claf!in
carried sightseers from the Santa F'e |
pier to the Monterey. Good seaman
that he was. he was Fascinated with
the dazzling spotlessness of the mont
tor, and every night while she lay in |
port Tom came aboard to revel in the
ship-talk and yarns of officers and
men. He soon knew all the officers by
name and had formed close friend
ship with a seaman named Hansen.
who had lived in Chicago and was hail
fellow with every man ia the crew.
Hansen was killed the night before
the Monterey sailed for Frisco. He
1ad gone ashore with guard to arrest
4 half-bred Mexican stoker, and had
,verstayed his leave. The guard sepa-
,ated to scour the town for the desert
,r. and Hansen alone, had the misfor-
,une to corner him in Chinese dive (
at the lower end Of town. A knife in
he dark as he was dragging his pris-
,ner through an alleyway, a panic of
chatter Cinnamon, who quenched
heir lamps and bolted their doors, and
NOR Hopsap was left diving in the |