Mr. Trunnell, Mate of the Ship "Pirate" by T. Jenkins (Thornton Jenkins) Hains
page 21 of 226 (09%)
page 21 of 226 (09%)
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to her trucks she made a beautiful sight. Her canvas was snowy white,
showing that no money had been spared on her sails. Her spars were all painted or scraped and her standing rigging tarred down to a beautiful blackness. Only on deck and among the ropes of her running gear was shown that sign of untidiness which distinguishes the merchant vessel from the man-of-war. I managed to get some hands to work on the braces, and finally got the yards trimmed shipshape and in the American fashion. That was, with the lower yards sharp on the back-stays, the topsails a little further aft, the t'gallant a little further still, until the main-skysail was almost touching with its weather leach cutting into the breeze a point or more forward of the weather beam. The fore and aft canvas was trimmed well, and the outer jibs lifted the ship along at a slapping rate. She was evidently fast in spite of her load, and I looked over the side at the foam that was seething past the lee channels in swirls and eddies which gave forth a cheerful hissing sound as they slipped aft at the rate of six knots an hour. The man at the wheel held her easily, and that was a blessing; for nothing is much worse for a mate's discomfort than a wild ship sheering from side to side leaving a wake like the path of some monstrous snake. When I looked again on the main deck I saw the figure of a man whom I failed to recognize as a member of the ship's company. He was standing near the opening of the after-hatchway, which had not yet been battened down, and his gaze was fixed upon me. He was a broad-shouldered fellow, about the average height, and was dressed in a tight-fitting black coat which reached to his knees. On his head was a skull cap with a long tassel hanging down from its top, and in his mouth was a handsome meerschaum pipe, which hung down by its stem to the middle of his breast. |
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