The San Francisco call., 1904-03-13

@HE poets will tell you that the.
sea never gives up its prey, but
if you were TO repeat-that TO the
Il sailormen about the docks Of
Honolulu they would tell you The
poets be bowed" or something that
would mean the same. They would re-
fer you to old Sam Harland, the night
Watchman of the railway dock, who
came there five years ago on the Henry
B. Howard. You would then demand
more detail, and in humorous way
they would tell you how the waves once
took old Sam for their own and tried
hard TO swallow him, but he proved too
bitter a pill. even for the hoary old
sea. so it spewed him up again in dis
gust.
Ye see" they say, Sam is a power
tul chap on the booze, an his old car
csss is so-soaked with rum that he
couldn't be digested. The sea took him
and chewed and chewed for quite
while, but he was just a bit too tough. -
have heard Sam tell his story, but
being a rank egotist, he tries 10 make
you believe that his swimming saved
him, which isn't entirely true. His
shipmates on the Howard told quite a
different story, and, according TO gen
eral opinion, theirs was the true
version.
The big four-masted bark Henry s.
Howard left New York in May with
general cargo for San Francisco. This
brought her around the Horn in Au-
gust and UP to the North Pacific in
October, bad time Of year, just when
the equinOctial storms are brewing.
The Howard was just about five hun
dred miles southeast of Hawaii when
one Of these bitter gales struck her
and brought her hove to under lower
topsails.
The ordinary landsman doesn't quite
realize what a storm in those regions,
at that time Of year, means. Sailing
IS impossible-the ship that simply
holds her own against those giant mid
sea billows is doing well. She is
stripped Of all but three or four heavy
storm sails, enough TO give her the
lecessary steerageway to keep her nose
pointed toward the Oncoming seas, so
hat they shall not strike broadside on.
Thus had the Howard been hove
% for three days, meeting each foam
capped billow with an upward toss OF
ler bows, sometimes showing her nose
ieep into the green seas, sending pom
3erous cascades laundering down
rom her forecastle head, flooding the
main deck to the cabin aft. Some
1mes the forecastle. an iron house on
ieck, would be entirely submerged.
ind then the men of the watch below,
Who hay in upper hunks, could behold
he sea through the plate glass port
aoles. as you see in an aquarium, cast
ng. a sickly green light over their
aaggard faces and giving them a
ieath-like pallOr. With a gurgling
oar the water would drop and spread
1T, and good, wholesome light of day
:ome in again.
Aft on the poop were gathered the
Ifflcer and the men of the watch on
ieck, a dozen oilskinned figures
:lUtching the lifelines rugged from rail
% rail. Thus they stood, four hours
Il a time, drenched, gazing stolidly al
he whirl of spray and scud about
hem, with nothing TO do, only TO
;tand by. The man at the wheel was
1eep the helm jammed hard over.
such is the sailors school of physical
endurance.
One bell struck-on the poop. Even
hat old martinez. the skipper, would
,xpect no man TO strike il ford. for
he bell on the forecastle head clangs
ullenly at intervals in low throaty
notes. as the roaring torrents pour
bver IT, Bad enough it is for the man
O dodge ford in the first lull to the
ee door Of the forecastle. TO jerk
hose drowsy fellows of the other
watch out of their few hours of slum-
ser.
"Ho-o-o, ho-o-oo, ho-ooo, all hands
ihoyi Awake. ye sleepersl One beli,''
with sleepy yawns and drawing
:urses, the men drop out of their hunks
o their chests, and slowly, reluctantly,