The Skipper's Schooner


No better specimen of the genus, genuine Yankee nation, can be found,

imagined or described, than the skippers of along shore, from

Connecticut river to Eastport, Maine. These critters give full scope to

the Hills and Hacketts of the stage, and the Sam Slicks and

Falconbridges of the press, to embody and sketch out in the broadest

possible dialect of Yankee land. One of these "tarnal critters," it is

my purpose to draw
on for my brief sketch, and I wish my readers to do

me the credit to believe that for little or no portion of my yarn or

language am I indebted to fertility of imagination, as the incidents are

real, and quite graphic enough to give piquancy to the subject.



Last spring, just after the breaking up of winter, a down-east smack or

schooner, freighted with cod-fish and potatoes, I believe, rounded off

Cape Ann light, and owing to head winds, or some other perversity of a

nautical nature, could no further go; so the skipper and his crew--one

man, green as catnip--made for an anchorage, and hove the "hull consarn"

to. Here they lay, and tossed and chafed, at their moorings, for a day

or two, without the slightest indication on the part of the weather to

abate the nuisance. So the commander of the schooner got in his little

"dug-out," and giving the aforesaid crew special injunctions to keep all

fast, he pulled off to shore to take a look around.



Now, it so fell out that in the course of a few hours' time after the

departure of the skipper, a snorting east wind sprang up, and not only

blew great guns, but chopped up a short, heavy sea, perfectly

astonishing and alarming to Hezekiah Perkins, in the rolling and

pitching schooner. It was Hez's first attempt at seafaring; and this

sort of reeling and waltzing about, as a matter of course, soon

discomboberated his bean basket, and set his head in a whirl and dancing

motion--better conceived by those who have seen the sea elephant than

described. Hez got dea-a-athly sick, so sick he could not budge from the

stern sheets, where he had taken a squat in the early commencement of

his difficulties. In the mean time, the skipper came down to the beach

and hailed the victim:



"Hel-LO! hel-LO!"



Hez feebly elevated his optics, and looking to the windward, where stood

his noble captain, he made an effort to say over something:



"Wha-a-t ye-e-e want?"



"What do I want? Why, yeou pesky critter, yeou, go for'ard thar and hist

the jib, take up the anchor, put your helm a-lee, and beat up to town!"



This was all very well, provided the skipper was there to superintend,

manage and carry out his voluble orders; but as the surf prevented him

from coming on board, and the lightness of Hez's head militated against

the almost superhuman possibility of carrying out the skipper's orders,

things remained in statu quo, the skipper ashore, and Hez fervently

wishing he was too.



"Ain't you a-going to stir round there, and save the vessel?" bawled the

excited captain.



"How on airth," groaned the horror-stricken mariner, "how on airth am I

to help it?"



"Wall, by Columbus, she'll go clean ashore, or blow eout to sea afore

long, sure as death!" responded the skipper; and before he had fairly

concluded his augury, sure enough, the halser parted, the schooner slew

round and made a bee-line for Cowes and a market! This rather brought

Hezekiah to his oats--he riz, tottering and feeble, on his shaky pins,

and crawled forward to get up the jib.



"O ye-s, now yeou're coming about it, yes, yeou be," bawled the almost

frantic skipper, as the distance between him and his vessel was

increasing. "Put her abeout and head her up the ba-a-y!" But it was no

kind of use in talking, for Hezekiah could not raise the jib; and his

imperfect nautical knowledge, under such a snarl, completely bewildered

and disgusted him with the prospect. So saying over the seven

commandments and other serious lessons of youth, Hezekiah resigned

himself to the tumultuous elements, and concluded it philosophical and

scriptural resignation to let Providence and the old schooner fix out

the programme just as they might. It is commonly reported, that our

mackerel catchers, when a storm or gale overtakes them on the briny

deep, lash all fast and go below, turn in and let their smacks rip along

to the best of their knowledge and ability. They seldom founder or get

severely scathed; and these facts, or perfect indifference, having

entered the head of Hezekiah Perkins, he became perfectly unconcerned as

to future developments. Night coming on, the skipper saw his schooner

fast departing out to sea, and when she was no longer to be seen, he

made tracks for Boston, to report the melancholy facts to the owners of

the vessel and cargo, and see about the insurance.



Next morning, the skipper having discovered that the insurance was safe,

he found himself in better spirits; so he walked down along the wharves,

to take a look out upon the bay and shipping--when lo, and behold, he

sees a vessel so amazingly like his Two Pollies, that he could not

refrain from exclaiming:



"Hurrah! hurrah! By Christopher Columbus--if thar don't come my old

beauty and Hez Perkins, too--hurrah!"



The overjoyed skipper went off into a double hornpipe on a single

string; and as the veritable schooner came booming saucily up the bay

before a spanking breeze, with her jib spread, the skipper called out in

a voice of thunder and gladness:



"Hel-lo! Hez Perkins, is that yeou?"



"Hel-lo! Cap'n, I'm coming, by pumpkins! Clear the track for the Two

Pollies!" And putting her head in among the smacks of Long Wharf, Hez

let her rip and smash chock up fast and tight. When the captain landed

on his own deck, he rushed into the arms of his brave mate Hezekiah, and

they had a regular fraternal hug all round--and Hezekiah Perkins, in

behalf of his wonderful skill, perseverance and luck, was unanimously

voted first mate of the Two Pollies on the spot. It appeared that a

change of wind during the night had driven the wandering vessel back

into the bay, and Hezekiah, having got over his sick spell by daylight,

crawled forward, got up the jib, and actually made the wharf, as we have

described.



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