All on board concluded that Peter Jackson had been eaten by sharks or crocodiles and it was so reported when they arrived home.

An administrator was appointed for his goods and chattels and he was officially deceased in the eyes of the law.

A year or so later this unconquerable sea-cook appeared in the streets of Salem, grinning a welcome to former shipmates who fled from him in terror as a ghostly visitation.

He had floated twelve hours on his sail-boom, it seemed, fighting off the sharks with his feet; and finally drifting ashore.

"He had hard work to do away with the impressions of being dead," runs the old account, "but succeeded and was allowed the rights and privileges of the living." The community of interests in these voyages of long ago included not only the ship's company but also the townspeople, even the boys and girls, who entrusted their little private speculations or "adventures" to the captain.