Imperial Valley press., 1937-02-07

the detention "home" and the hours along the
Barbary Coast. My English had improved, but
understood the skipper better than he did my
jargon. What l did make him understand lat
least little hoped) was my terrible ambition
to become sailor. My ideals were of the high
est, senior my desires of the most lofty,
otherwise, why should l, a strange lad from
Mexico, have boarded his beautiful boat?
"All right" he said impatently, finding no
answer to this fattery, you'll be apprentice to
the sail-maker. Go find him and report!'
was out of the galley step up the ladder
to seafaring success.
"Gracias, senior. Oh, mucho gracias. Thanks a
lot"
I now had ample opportunity to learn sea
trade and better than all, l on my way
to Australia.
The sail-maker was also carpenter. Chips"
was a Scotchman. a canny fellow with rich
brogue and grand sense of humor. Although
stern and exacting, he possessed sense of
justice. My objection to him was his all-pervad-
ing curiosity he wanted to know all about me-
What was my "hailing point? Who the deuce
was l. where born, and who were my ancestors
At the moment my relatives meant little-in
fact, have never concerned me greatly-and the
carpenter finally understood that all I cared
about was to learn sailors trade.
When he'd decided I was serious, and not
loafng on the job, he furnished me with
sailors palma leather strap which fitted
over my hand. A hole was cut in it for the
thumb and the leather palm" fashioned with
raised section on the edge the thumb,
corrugated bit of metal the size of dime BY
holding a needle between thumb and index fin
ger, the eye resting on the palm, was taught
to pass the needle quickly through heavy can
vas. This new art cannot be learned in day.
1t takes long and patient practice, and raised
a whole school of first-class bsters on hand
I'd thought was well toughened.
From the Scotchman learned to sew canvas
IT'S curious how much you learn from different
| people, if your mind is open There's some
sort of law governing such things. This isn't
preaching, it's the TRUTH The thing learned
runs like this: what you want badly to find out
will come to you, usually-sooner or later Right
then, what I wanted most was to be real
A. B.. an able-boded sailor. Because my prayers
went in that direction, men became more and
more decent to me; they began to help. I'd
served an apprenticeship aboard the Bessie B,
and was on my way. kept my mind open to
what wanted
Months. years, slipped by a sure, fast
tide running out to sea, carrying me along. I'll
never know where the days went. Eight years,
long or brief. as you look at them from the
distance of middle age. AS they passed, each
was long. dragging in spite Of new countries,
new people and the everyday experiences
Of boy at sea. Looking back, each seems short
:. the whole eight seem packed into corner
of my mind, not to be forgotten but now
not to be told. I travelled On various ships we
called at Sidney Brisbane. London. Liverpool.
names to conjure with even today.
How can you write down how boy grows,
what he feels and wonders about? BY the hot
July when landed at Galveston. Texas, was
touching eighteen Things had happened in
queer corners of the world some of which one
doesn't put on paper; others which meant all
Of Life to me at the moment. In a few hsating