“Vi et armis.” By force. —Keyes ↩
When the crew were paid off in Boston, the owners answered the order, but generously refused to deduct the amount from the payroll, saying that the exchange was made under compulsion. They also allowed S⸺ his exchange money. ↩
Fast. Mooring rope or chain. —Keyes ↩
Channels. Pieces of wood or iron fastened to the outer sides of a vessel to keep the shrouds free of the bulwarks. —Keyes ↩
On removing the cathead, after the ship arrived at Boston, it was found that there were two holes under it which had been bored for the purpose of driving treenails, and which, accidentally, had not been plugged up when the cathead was placed over them. This was sufficient to account for the leak, and for our not having been able to discover and stop it. ↩
Worked a traverse. Got ahead of them. —Keyes ↩
The customs as to the allowance of “grub” are very nearly the same in all American merchantmen. Whenever a pig is killed, the sailors have one mess from it. The rest goes to the cabin. The smaller live stock, poultry, etc., they never taste.
And, indeed, they do not complain of this, for it would take a great deal to supply them with a good meal, and without the accompaniments (which could hardly be furnished to them), it would not be much better than salt beef. But even as to the salt beef, they are scarcely dealt fairly with; for whenever a barrel is opened, before any of the beef is put into the harness cask, the steward comes up, and picks it all over, and takes out the best pieces (those that have any fat in them) for the cabin.
This was done in both the vessels I was in, and the men said that it was usual in other vessels. Indeed, it is made no secret, but some of the crew are usually called to help in assorting and putting away the pieces. By this arrangement the hard, dry pieces, which the sailors call “old horse,” come to their share.
There is a singular piece of rhyme, traditional among sailors, which they say over such pieces of beef. I do not know that it ever appeared in print before. When seated round the kid, if a particularly bad piece is found, one of them takes it up, and addressing it, repeats these lines: “Old horse! old horse! what brought you here?”
—“From Sacarap to Portland pier
I’ve carted stone this many a year:
Till, killed by blows and sore abuse,
They salted me down for sailors’ use.
The sailors they do me despise:
They turn me over and damn my eyes;
Cut off my meat, and pick my bones,
And pitch the rest to Davy Jones.”
There is a story current among seamen, that a beef-dealer was convicted, at Boston, of having sold old horse for ship’s stores, instead of beef, and had been sentenced to be confined in jail, until he should eat the whole of it; and that he is now lying in Boston jail. I have heard this story often, on board other vessels beside those of our own nation. It is very generally believed, and is always highly commended, as a fair instance of retaliatory justice. ↩
Humbugging with our flying kites. Setting and furling light extra sails. —Keyes ↩
Saturnalia. General frolic. —Keyes ↩
Davy Jones. The sailors’ term for the spirit of the ocean. “Davy Jones’ Locker,” the bottom of the sea. —Keyes ↩
The proportions of the ingredients of the tea that was made for us (and ours, as I have before stated, was a favorable specimen of American merchantmen) were, a pint of tea, and a pint and a half of molasses, to about three gallons of water.
These are all boiled down together in the “coppers,” and before serving it out, the mess is stirred up with a stick, so as to give each man his fair share of sweetening and tea leaves. The tea for the cabin is, of course, made in the usual way, in a teapot, and drank with sugar. ↩
I do not wish these remarks, so far as they relate to the saving of expense in the outfit, to be applied to the owners of our ship, for she was supplied with an abundance of stores, of the best kind that are given to seamen; though the dispensing of them is necessarily left to the captain, Indeed, so high was the reputation of “the employ” among men and officers, for the character and outfit of their vessels, and for their liberality in conducting their voyages, that when it was known that they had a ship fitting out for a long voyage, and that hands were to be shipped at a certain time—a half hour before the time, as one of the crew told me, numbers of sailors were steering down the wharf, hopping over the barrels, like flocks of sheep. ↩
Plagues of Egypt. See Exodus 7–11. —Keyes ↩
Fish tackle and fish davit. Apparatus for raising the anchor to the side of a ship. —Keyes ↩
Belaying pin. A movable pin to which light ropes may be fastened. —Keyes ↩
Cowper. William Cowper, 1731–1800, an English poet. —Keyes ↩
Horace. Quintus Horatius Flaccus, 68 BC−8 AD. A Roman poet, writer of odes and satires. “Ille et nefasto,” Odes, II, 13, an address to an ill-omened tree that fell upon the poet and nearly brought him to an untimely end. —Keyes ↩
Goethe. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 1749–1832, a German poet and critic. The list is indicative of a
