But the outward-bounder, his hands thrust deep into empty pockets, the bitter taste of begrudged5 bread parching6 his mouth, and the scowling7 face of his boarding master refusing to pass from his mind’s eye; he it is who feels the utter desolation of the crowded “chain-locker” corrode8 his very soul. After a long day’s tramp around the docks, sneaking9 on board vessels11 like a thief, and asking the mate for a “chance”200 with bated breath, as if begging for pence, unsuccessful and weary, he returns to this walled-in pit of gloom, and jealously eyes the company of miserables like himself, as if in each one he saw a potential snatcher of his last hope of a berth12.
Outward-bounders have little to say to each other in the “chain-locker.” They wait, not like honest labourers seeking legitimate13 employment, but like half-tried prisoners awaiting sentence. This characteristic is so universal that, although we who bided14 the coming of the Gareth’s skipper had all got our discharges in, and so felt reasonably sure of her, we had not exchanged half a dozen words among the fourteen of us.
But there suddenly appeared in our midst a square-built, rugged15-faced man of middle height, whose grey eyes twinkled across his ruined nose, and whose mouth had that droll16 droop17 of the lower lip that shows a readiness, not only to laugh in and out of season, but almost pathetically invites the beholder18 to laugh too. He it was who broke the stony19 silence by saying in the richest brogue, “Is it all av us bhoys that does be goin’ in the wan20 ship, I wondher?” Even the most morose21 among us felt an inclination22 to smile, we hardly knew why, but just then the swing door of the engaging office burst open, and a hoarse23 voice shouted, “Crew o’ the Gareth here.”
The words, like some irresistible24 centripetal25 force, sucked in from the remotest corner of the large area every man, and in a moment all of us, who had, as we thought, secured our chances by lodging26 our discharges beforehand, were seized with something of a201 panic lest we should lose the ship after all. Heavens! how we thrust and tore our way into the office, past the burly policeman who held every one of us at the pinch of the door until he was satisfied of our right to enter. Once within, we felt safe, and stood nervously28 fingering our caps while the clerk gabbled over the usual formula, to which none of us gave the slightest heed. “Signing on” began and proceeded apace, to the accompaniment of a running fire of questions as to age, nationality, last ship, etc., to which answers, if not promptly29 forthcoming, were, I am afraid, supplied by the questioner. There was a subdued30 chuckle31, and the man who had spoken outside stood at the counter.
“What name?” snapped the clerk.
“Alphonso M’Ginty, yer anner,” was the answer. No exquisite33 witticism34 ever raised a more wholesome35 burst of laughter. It positively36 brightened that dull hole like a ray of sea-sunshine.
“How old?” said the clerk, in a voice still tremulous.
“God befrind me, I forgot! Say tirty-five, sor.”
“Your discharge says twenty-five?” returned the clerk.
“Ah yes, yer anner, but it’s said that for the last tirty years!”
“Isn’t it time it was altered then?” retorted the clerk, magisterial37 again, as he entered fifty-five on the articles. The old fellow’s quaint38 speech, added to an indefinable aureole of good humour about him, had completely changed the sullen39 aspect of our crowd, so202 that for the moment we quite forget that but fourteen of us were engaged to take the 4000-ton ship Gareth to New Zealand first, and then to any other part of the world, voyage not to exceed three years.
So, with even the Dutchmen laughing and chuckling40 in sympathy with the fun they felt, but didn’t understand, we all dispersed41 with our advance notes to get such discount as fate and the sharks would allow. In good time we were all aboard, for ships were scarce, and all of us anxious to get away. But when we saw the vast, gaunt hull42 well down to Plimsoll’s Mark, and the four towering steel giants of masts with their immense spreading branches, and thought of the handful we were to manage them, we felt a colder chill than even the biting edge of the bitter east wind had given us.
We mustered43 in the dark, iron barn of the fo’c’sle, and began selecting bunks44 temporarily, until we were picked for watches, when our attention was arrested by the voice of M’Ginty, saying—
“Bhoys!”
All turned towards him where he stood, with a bottle of rum and a tea-cup, and no one needed a second call. When the bottle was empty, and our hearts had gone out to the donor45, he said, clearing his throat once or twice—
“Bhoys, fergive me, I’m a —— imposhtor. I broke me right knee-cap an’ five ribs46 comin’ home from ’Frisco in the Lamech—fell from the fore27-t’galant yard—an’ I bin47 three months in Poplar Hospital. I can’t go aloft, but I didn’t think what a crime it203 wuz goin’ to be agin ye all until I see this awful over-sparred brute48 here. Don’t be harrd on me, bhoys; ye wouldn’t have me starrve ashore49, wud yez now, or fret50 me poor owld hearrt out in the wurrkhouse afther forty-five year on the open sea?”
He stopped and looked around distressfully, and in that moment all our hearts warmed to him. We were a mixed crowd, of course, but nearly half of us were British, and there would have been a stormy scene if any of the aliens had ventured to raise a protest against M’Ginty’s incapacity. We didn’t express our sympathy, but we felt it, and he with native quickness knew that we did. And never from that day forward did the brave old chap hear a word of complaint from any of us about having to do his work.
Just then the voice of the bos’un sounded outside, “Turn to!” and as we departed to commence work, although not a word was said, there was a fierce determination among us to protect M’Ginty against any harshness from the officers on account of his disablement. There was too much of a bustle51 getting out of dock for any notice to be taken of his stiff leg, which he had so cleverly concealed52 while shipping53, but the mate happening to call him up on to the forecastle head for something, his lameness54 was glaringly apparent at once to the bos’un, who stood behind him. For just a minute it looked like trouble as the bos’un began to bluster55 about his being a —— cripple, but we all gathered round, and the matter was effectually settled at once.
We never regretted our consideration. For, while204 it was true that he couldn’t get aloft, and those mighty56 sails would have been a handful for double our number in a breeze of wind, there never was a more willing, tireless worker on deck, and below he was a perfect godsend. His sunny temper, bubbling fun, and inexhaustible stock of yarns57, made our grey lives happier than they had ever been at sea before. If we would have allowed it, he would have been a slave to all of us, for we carried no boys, and all the odd domestic jobs of the fo’c’sle had to be done by ourselves. As it was, he was always doing something for somebody, and as he was a thorough sailor in his general handiness and ability, his services were highly appreciated. He made the Gareth a comfortable ship, in spite of her manifold drawbacks.
In due time we reached the “roaring forties” and began to run the easting down. The long, tempestuous58 stretch of the Southern Ocean lay before us, and the prospect59 was by no means cheering. The Gareth, in spite of her huge bulk, had given us a taste of her quality when running before a heavy breeze of wind shortly after getting clear of the Channel, and we knew that she was one of the wettest of her class, a vessel10 that welcomed every howling sea as an old friend, and freely invited it to range the whole expanse of her decks from poop to forecastle. And, in accordance with precedent60, we knew that she would be driven to the last extremity61 of canvas endurance, not only in the hope of making a quick passage, but because shortening sail after really hard running was such an awful strain upon the handful of men composing205 the crew. So that when once the light sails were secure, an attempt would always be made to “hang on” to the still enormous spread of sail remaining, until the gale62 blew itself out, or we had run out of its vast area. But for some days the brave west wind lingered in its lair63, and we slowly crept to the s’uthard and east’ard with trumpery64 little spurts65 of northerly and nor’-westerly breeze. We had reached 47° S. and about 10° E. when, one afternoon, it fell calm.
One of the most magnificent sunsets imaginable spread its glories over the western sky. Great splashes of gorgeous colouring stained the pale blue of the heavens, and illuminated66 the fantastic crags and ranges of cloud that lay motionless around the horizon, like fragments of a disintegrated67 world. A long, listless swell68 came solemnly from the west at regular intervals69, giving the waiting ship a stately rhythmical70 motion in the glassy waters, and making the immense squares of canvas that hung straight as boards from the yards slam against the steel masts with a sullen boom. Except for that occasionally recurring71 sound, a solemn stillness reigned72 supreme73, while the wide mirror of the ocean reflected faithfully all the flaming tints74 of the sky. Quietly all of us gathered on the fo’c’sle head for the second dog-watch smoke, but for some time all seemed strangely disinclined for the desultory75 chat that usually takes place at that pleasant hour. Pipes were puffed76 in silence for half an hour, until suddenly M’Ginty broke the spell (his voice sounding strangely clear and vibrant), by saying—
“I had a quare dhrame lasht night.”
“I dhreamt that I was a tiny gorsoon again, at home in owld Baltimore. I’d been wandherin’ and sthrayin’, God alone knows where, fur a dhreadful long while, it seemed, until at lasht, whin I wuz ready t’ die from sheer weariness an’ fright, I hearrd me dear mother’s sweet voice cryin’, ‘Where’s Fonnie avic iver got to this long while?’ Oh!’twas as if an angel from hiven shpoke to me, an’ I cried wid all me hearrt an’ me tongue, ‘Here, mother, here I am!’ An’ she gathered me up in her arrums that wuz so soft an’ cosy78, till I felt as if I was a little tired chick neshtlin’ into its mother’s feathers in the snuggest79 of nests. I didn’t go to sleep, I just let meself sink down, down into rest, happy as any saint in glory. An’ thin I woke up wid a big, tearin’ ache all over me poor owld broken-up body. But bad as that wuz, ’twuz just nothin’ at all to the gnawin’ ache at me hearrt.”
Silence wrapped us round again, for who among us could find any words to apply to such a story as that? And it affected80 us all the more because of its complete contrast to M’Ginty’s usual bright, cheery, and uncomplaining humour. Not another word was spoken by any one until the sharp strokes on the little bell aft cleft81 the still air, and, in immediate82 response, one rose and smote83 the big bell hanging at the break of the forecastle four double blows, ushering84 in the first watch of the night. The watch on deck relieved wheel and look-out, and we who were fortunate enough to have the “eight hours in,” lost no time in seeking our respective207 bunks, since in those stern latitudes85 we might expect a sudden call at any moment. We had hardly been asleep five minutes, it seemed, when a hoarse cry came pealing86 in through the fo’c’sle door of “All hands on deck! Shorten sail!” And as we all started wide awake, we heard the furious voice of the southern tempest tearing up the face of the deep, and felt the massive fabric87 beneath our feet leaping and straining under the tremendous strain of her great breadths of canvas, that we had left hanging so idly at eight bells.
Out into the black night we hurried, meeting the waiting mate at the foremast, and answering his first order of “man the fore tops’ls downhaul” with the usual repetition of his words. Weird88 cries arose as we hauled with all our strength on the downhauls and spilling lines, while overhead we could hear, even above the roar of the storm, the deep boom of the topsails fiercely fighting against the restraining gear. Then, with a hissing89, spiteful snarl90, came snow and sleet91, lashing92 us like shotted whips, and making the darkness more profound because of the impossibility of opening the eyes against the stinging fragments of ice. But, after much stumbling and struggling, we got the four huge tops’ls down, and, without waiting for the order, started aloft to furl, the pitiful incapacity of our numbers most glaringly apparent. The pressure of the wind was so great that it was no easy matter to get aloft, but clinging like cats, we presently found ourselves (six of the port watch) on the fore topsailyard.
The first thing evident was that the great sail was very slightly subdued by the gear; it hovered93 above208 the yard like a white balloon, making it both difficult and dangerous to get out along the spar. The storm scourged94 us pitilessly, the great round of the sail resisted all our attempts to “fist” it, and we seemed as helpless as children. Some bold spirits clutched the lifts, and, swinging above the sail, tried to stamp a hollow into it with their feet; but against the increasing fury of the tempest we seemed to be utterly95 impotent. We were so widely separated, too, that each man appeared to be essaying a giant’s task single-handed, and that horrible sense of fast-oozing strength was paralyzing us. Feeling left our hands; we smote them savagely96 against that unbending sail without sensation, and still we seemed no nearer the conclusion of our task. But suddenly the ship gave a great lurch97 to windward, and just for one moment the hitherto unyielding curve of the sail quivered. In that instant every fist had clutched a fold, and with a flash of energy we strained every sinew to conquer our enemy.
Tugging98 like a madman to get the sail spilled, I glanced sideways, and saw to my horror, by a jagged flash of lightning, the rugged face of M’Ginty.
I had hardly recognized him when, with a roar like the combined voices of a troop of lions, the sail tore itself away from us, and with bleeding hands I clutched at the foot-rope stirrup as I fell back. But at the same moment M’Ginty’s arms flew up. He caught at the empty gloom above him, gasping99, “In manus tuas, Domine——” and fell. Far beneath us the hungry209 sea seethed100 and whirled, its white glare showing ghastly against the thick darkness above. For two or three seconds I hung as if irresolute101 whether to follow my poor old shipmate or not; then the heavy flapping of the sail aroused me, and springing up again, I renewed my efforts. The ship had evidently got a “wipe up” into the wind, for the sail was now powerless against us, and in less than five minutes it was fast, and we were descending102 with all speed to renew our desperate fight with the mizen and jigger topsails. The decks were like the sea overside, for wave after wave toppled inboard, and it was at the most imminent103 risk to life and limb that we scrambled104 aft, quite a sense of relief coming as we swung out of that turbulent flood into the rigging again.
But I was almost past feeling now. A dull aching sense of loss clung around my heart, and the patient, kindly105 face of my shipmate seemed branded upon my eyes, as he had lifted it to the stormy skies in his last supplicatory106 moan. I went about my work doggedly107, mechanically; indifferent to cold, fatigue108, or pain, until, when at last she was snugged109 down, and, under the fore lower topsails and reefed foresail, was flying through the darkness like some hunted thing, I staggered wearily into the cheerless fo’c’sle, dropped upon a chest, and stared moodily110 at vacancy111.
Somebody said, “Where’s M’Ginty?” That roused me. It seemed to put new life and hope into me, for I replied quite brightly, “He’s gone to the rest he was talking about in the dog-watch. He’ll never eat workhouse bread, thank God!”
Eager questioning followed, mingled112 with utter amazement113 at his getting aloft at all. But when all had said their say one feeling had been plainly manifested—a feeling of deep thankfulness that such a grand old sailor as our shipmate M’Ginty was where he fain would be, taking his long and well-earned rest.
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1
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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3
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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shudderingly
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5
begrudged
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| 嫉妒( begrudge的过去式和过去分词 )； 勉强做； 不乐意地付出； 吝惜 | |
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parching
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| adj.烘烤似的，焦干似的v.（使）焦干， （使）干透( parch的现在分词 )；使（某人）极口渴 | |
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7
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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corrode
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| v.使腐蚀，侵蚀，破害；v.腐蚀，被侵蚀 | |
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sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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13
legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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bided
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| v.等待，停留( bide的过去式 )；居住；等待；面临 | |
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15
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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beholder
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| n.观看者，旁观者 | |
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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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centripetal
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| adj.向心的 | |
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lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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witticism
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| n.谐语，妙语 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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magisterial
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| adj.威风的，有权威的；adv.威严地 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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40
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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41
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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42
hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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43
mustered
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的过去式和过去分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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44
bunks
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| n.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的名词复数 )；空话，废话v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的第三人称单数 )；空话，废话 | |
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45
donor
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| n.捐献者；赠送人；(组织、器官等的)供体 | |
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46
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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47
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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48
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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49
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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50
fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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51
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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52
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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53
shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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54
lameness
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| n. 跛, 瘸, 残废 | |
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55
bluster
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| v.猛刮；怒冲冲的说；n.吓唬，怒号；狂风声 | |
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56
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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57
yarns
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| n.纱( yarn的名词复数 )；纱线；奇闻漫谈；旅行轶事 | |
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58
tempestuous
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| adj.狂暴的 | |
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59
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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60
precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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61
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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62
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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63
lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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64
trumpery
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| n.无价值的杂物；adj.（物品）中看不中用的 | |
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65
spurts
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| 短暂而突然的活动或努力( spurt的名词复数 )； 突然奋起 | |
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66
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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67
disintegrated
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| v.（使）破裂[分裂，粉碎]，（使）崩溃( disintegrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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69
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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70
rhythmical
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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71
recurring
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| adj.往复的，再次发生的 | |
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72
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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73
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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74
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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76
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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snuggest
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| adj.整洁的( snug的最高级 )；温暖而舒适的；非常舒适的；紧身的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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81
cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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83
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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84
ushering
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的现在分词 ) | |
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latitudes
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| 纬度 | |
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pealing
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| v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的现在分词 ) | |
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87
fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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88
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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89
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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sleet
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| n.雨雪；v.下雨雪，下冰雹 | |
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lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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94
scourged
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| 鞭打( scourge的过去式和过去分词 )； 惩罚，压迫 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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99
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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100
seethed
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| （液体）沸腾( seethe的过去式和过去分词 )； 激动，大怒； 强压怒火； 生闷气(~with sth|~ at sth) | |
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101
irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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102
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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103
imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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104
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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105
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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106
supplicatory
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| adj.恳求的，祈愿的 | |
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107
doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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108
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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109
snugged
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| v.整洁的( snug的过去式和过去分词 )；温暖而舒适的；非常舒适的；紧身的 | |
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110
moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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111
vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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112
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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113
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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