Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1901-01-04

| erel up and down the New England
coast. For half an hour her skipper
had been walking the weather side Of
her deck in absorbed study of the
darkening sky. At length he turned
and sung out:
| ION deck, everybody! Clew down
top sails. Two of you go aloft for'ard
and a couple aft and put 'em in gas
kets. Let the balloon come down. and
furl it. Haul the seine-boat alongside
Pump her out and haul the seine on
deck Pile it close to the house and
pack it down.
The skipper took the wheel while this
was being done. Then came shit
that painter on the seine boat and hook
on the big painter Drop her astern
and give her plenty of line. Where $
the dory. men? Haul your dory up,
bows. and hoist her on deck Turn her
bottom up and give her double lashins.
Clear the deck of all loose gear-put IT
all below-ail of it-keelers-every-
thing"
The skipper watched all this until he
had seen everything cleared up and
heard "All fast the dory' from the
waist. Then he took to studying the
heavens again. He ducked his head
toward the balled-up darkness that he
had been watching all the evening
| Don't look any too good to the
nor'ard there. Maybe faint nawthin'
but this amt no too healthy place, If
it comes a blow
| +. He dropped into the CABIN COM
panion way and addressed himself to
| the man at the wheel. call me IL 1t
breezes up, Martin. Pass the word to
call ME at 'leven o'clock, anyway
How's she headin'?''
| "Ry the wind-west newest, now.
keep her off a pint or two bout
no'-west. Call me if it breezes up. "A
final lingering look around and the
skipper went below.
| Somewhere about the middle of the
night the sleepers below became sud-
denly awake. We didn't need the roar
ing Turn out everybody" to rouse us
The gentle swell that had rocked us to
| sleep had suffered change. 1t had
| become hard work to hold to our bed
! sacks So we climbed out. Slid into
red-iacks and oilskins. and found
| grim northeastern shifting us in the
| face.
In the dark you made out that
gang were fastening the seine to the
| deck by running lines from ran to ran
| Those lines made very good life-lnes
for a man crawling forward. Some
body was clamping down the main
hatch and some others were stoWlnS
the stavsail on the fore hatch SO it
| would stay.
The vessel is close-hauled on the
starboard tack. and her lee rail Is
smashing under. You know without
being told that she is fighting her way
off Georges. HurryinS forward win
your head too high in the air. you
stumble off the break and plump over
a man under the windward rail. tie
hooks onto the full in the back of your
oil-iecket, hauls you up the incline again,
and in a roaring whisper says, Get a
hold here. It's the balloon sheet
through the ring bolts. Don't let go.
on your life.
1t is one of those nights when the sea
shows brilliantly phosphorescent- on
such a night the fishermen say the sea
is firing" Into this sea the vessel
dives. Nose first, dowp, down. down,
until her thirty-foot bowSprit is clear
under. Then she rises. rises, rises. till
her bowsprit is pointing to about where
the north star should be. When she
heaves like that you can feel her deck
| swelling under you. A good fighting
halfback with a yard to gain bucks
from under a line like that when he
has to scatter tons.
| You can feel the ribs braced within
her. You can almost feel her lungs
pumping and her heart pounding some
where inside. You can feel her brace
to meet it. feel her shiver of dread, and
almost hear her scream triumphant
| when she clears it and throws it over
| her head.
Down she goes again. down and for
ward. for she won't he held back
shoulders and breast slap into it. Clear
to her waist she goes. fighting the sea
from her. To either side of her tumble
the broken waves. They curl away
| like beach combers. The hollow of
each is a curved sheet of electric white.
The crest of each is a thicker denser.
hotter white. The crests rise above us
and break, and back into the hollows
fall the dazzling points. They almost
sizzle. Not star above-but millions
here.
Through this play of fire our vessel
| leaps with great bounds. She boils her
way, and astern she leaves roaring
wake wherein the seine boat rears and
dives with an independent, kissing trail
of her own.
Two immovable men forward peer
into the night. They are there for
whatever they may see. but particu-
larly are they looking for light that
| will flash low and red when they see it.
The skipper is at the wheel. When he
| gets in the way of the cabin light.
| catch the shine of his dripping Oil
| clothes.
| Sometimes we fancy we see the wink
of red and green lights abreast and
aStcrn. There should be q good many
of them inside and outside of US, as
there were sixty sail of the fleet in
sight at supper time. We know that
they are now all like ourselves under
the four lowers and boring into it, with
+, extra lookout forward the skipper at
! the wheel. and all ears ard eyes for the
] surf and lights Of the outer Cape Cod
shore,
| Something ahead, dead ahead!
| sa-ail,' suddenly comes from forward
There is q scraping of bootheels at the
| wheel. What dyer make Of-aH right
i see her. In the shadow wc see
| him milling tho wheel doup Ahead