[The White Squall by John Conroy Hutcheson]@TWC D-Link book
The White Squall

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
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"Dat Cuffee bery lazy sometimes." "Well, well, that's like the pot calling the kettle black, I fancy," said Captain Miles smiling.

"However, you can please yourself, and get any of the hands you may want to assist in lifting back the bunks and so on in their proper places--some of the things may be too heavy for you.
At all events, make the saloon presentable before we come down again, and swab up the deck." "That's a willing fellow," he added to Mr Marline, as we went out and mounted the poop-ladder.

"I never saw a negro so handy, so plucky, and so willing." "Thank you, Captain Miles," I said, taking the compliment to myself, as having a sort of family ownership in Jake.
"Why, what have you got to do with it, Tom Eastman ?" he asked in his humorous way, poking fun at me.
"Well, captain, I don't think you'd ever have seen him on board if it hadn't been for me," I retorted.
"You're right there, but I'll thank you for his passage-money, then, Master Tom," said he, laughing at his joke and I too joining in, our wonderful good fortune having restored all our spirits amazingly.
The sun now came out and the day became bright and cheerful, with a gentle soft breeze blowing from the south-west which was just sufficient to curl the crests of the waves and make the sea sparkling, the heavy waves of the morning having lessened considerably and the whole expanse of the ocean dancing before our eyes in the warm light of the noontide.
"I see," observed Mr Marline, "the hands have quickly acted on your advice about drying their clothes." "Aye, poor fellows; and time enough, too, for they haven't had a dry rag on them, I believe, since last Monday." "You forget you have been in the same plight," replied the other, as we looked at the long strings of shirts and trousers and guernsey frocks hanging from ropes that were stretched from the stump of the foremast across the deck forwards, all fluttering in the wind and making the ship look as if she were dressed with bunting in honour of some royal birthday.
"And so have you too, Marline, as well as this young shaver," returned the captain good-humouredly; "but I was not thinking of ourselves; for, we're both young fellows, like Master Tom here, and able to brave anything.

Hasn't the ship suffered, though, poor old thing!" he added as he glanced sympathetically over her and saw all the damage, which, first the gale, and then our subsequent cutting away of the masts, had effected.
"Aye, she doesn't look as trim as when she left port," said Mr Marline.
Nor did she by a long way! The mizzen and mainmasts had been cut down close to the deck, while the butt-end of the foremast stood up only some twenty feet or so above the forecastle--a jagged broken piece of timber, with the stays and other ropes stretching away from its head to the wreck of the spars tumbling about in the sea in front of us.

The bowsprit alone remained intact of all our sticks, the gale having even spared the jib-boom; while the martingale and dolphin striker, with the shrouds on either side of the projecting spar were still all standing.
Looking inboards, the helm and steering apparatus were undamaged, as was also the binnacle, although this had a severe list to starboard; but, the skylight in the centre of the poop had been swept away, as well as a portion of the bulwarks on the side that had been under water, the rasping of the mizzen-mast having sawn them off flush with the deck.
This was the case, too, below in the waist, where the starboard timbers had been carried away nearly to the fore-chains, which probably had acted as a buffer and stayed further destruction in that direction; and it was only owing to this that the galley and pump-box had been saved, as otherwise both would have been swept overboard along with the dunnage I had noticed collected under the lee of the forecastle.
"Well, we mustn't grumble," said Captain Miles after meditating a bit over the damage with a serious face.


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