Imperial Valley press., 1937-01-24
"Have Lived A
Thousand Years


and Whit WeIlman
Chapter 8
COON the quiet, leisurely hours off Trinidad
y were dropped behind We sailed again, and
work was spelled in capitals. Never less than
IL hours, often 49, sometimes more.
But when thought of work I also thought
of the $3.50 god earning. More than I'd
ever hoped to own. The next few months would
pass-everything did, at sea-and the galley
sculon of the Bessie would then begin to
amass his fortune
We beat our way north in what was mostly
fair weather, with the exception of couple Of
bad blows-which was told were only "a capful
of wind" Usually we were out of sight of land
and had no idea what northern landscape
looked like.
A few whales were taken and tried out"
After what seemed ages word went down the
forecastle that we'd put into Victoria Island to
discharge oil and take aboard stores
The Bessie hove to at the head of Esqumault
Harbor, tug made fast and docked
in a beautiful bay. Here were trees Spruce
pines, came down to the waters edge remem-
ber Trinidad for smells-and Victoria Island
for green trees.
Spike and I watched the fine gentlemen of
the Customs come over the side These uni
formed officers had business with the skipper,
to be discussed over many bottles of Scotch
How'd you like to be Customs man." Spike
asked.
"Id hate it," told him. "They never go any
where"
That's right, You'd hate it. Don't ever
settle down to anything. Don't let life catch you
and hold you-or a woman, either. Keep going
no matter where"
Like you, Spike?"
mo, like yourself You haven't home, have
you? That makes it easier. You'll see things
never will. I've got home-makes it worse, do
you see? Part of mes there"
Our Customs visitors kept me busy washing
glasses and supplying them with soda-but this
didn't last forever. Nothing does thank God!
Spike had taught me something. If things lasted
too long, you'd get sick of them SO that was all
right. And bad things passed, too-which made
them easier to bear.
A day later we ran smack into school of fin
backed whales. Three killings were made the
carcasses tied fast to the shp-and try OUT
pots went into action.
AS this labor got under way, the unexpected
happened A dirty blow came up fast, and be-
fore we could do anything couple OF barrels
of oil broke loose deck These raced down the
port side, whirled cross-wise athwart the ship
and came forward in alarming fashion Had
one of those heavy steel barrels pinned man
against bulwark or mast it would have crushed
him like an eggshell.
It required over an hour to fix matters.
-HE Second" and Third rushed on deck,
| directing the A. BIS in a vain effort to stop
those crazy barrels The First" and the skip
per exhorted them in choice language. of which
a boy remembers more than is good, certainly
more than anyone write down.
This. to the Second: "You sawed-off, ham,
mered down. son of a Mongolian mastff get
busv: Get those barrels under control, or by the
crooked legs of holy jumping bullfrogs, I'll"
%I,;cf fnoc
he ran out of breath was abetted by the mate.
No harm was meant to anyone, officers or
men The skipper merely intended to get
prompt action He Informed them that II tney
didn't step lively, he the skipper, would come
down on deck and make them regret tneyd
ever gone to sea. After an hour OF paWllng out
orders, Mr. Larsen-the mild man with hairy
fsts-nanaeed to throw cargo net over one
of the barrels He Delayed it around shroud
until one barrel was caught The other rum
away finally up-ended of it's own accord at the
forecastle companionway, and was duly secured
King Neptune continued his uproarious mood
Wind dashed towering seas over our three
whales, over the Bessie B. knew I'd seen my
last sunset and last whale 1t looked as If all
was over The skipper didn't agree, and held
on somehow until next noon, when the wind died
a bit. It grew quiet enough to strip oluoper,
but the sea was far from calm
For time needed all the philosophy that
Spike had drilled into me-
made trip with a heavy pot of beans,
heading for the crews mess quarters. When
blubber was being stripped, decks were slippery
and proceeded to go fiat as I passed Mr.
Stuart's legs He was splashed some - not
enough to hurt him.
Clumsy he yelled, you clumsy oaf!' And
escorted me tenderly to the companionway,
holding my arm in kindly grip. GO on down.
Deliver those beans and come back again"
I returned, not very happy. What followed
wasn't funny, even years later
"Au right" said Mr. Stuart and called the
boatswain. This gentleman tied me up by the
thumbs to kedge anchor, which was lashed to
the bulkhead of the break of the poop deck.
This operation was carried out to Mr.. stuarts
satisfacttou. Mr. Stuart didn't have to give any