Long Voyager
C.H.J. Snider - Schooner Days
C.H.J. Snider - Schooner Days
When fall came, it was too cold and it blew too hard to load lumber on the open shore. The portholes, brows, and skidways could freeze up, or the booms of timber could go adrift in the hard northerly winds, so they swept the Albatross clean of chips and slivers and sawdust, and they started for Chicago, for their share of the gold of the west – a cargo of grain.
As they were upward bound in the Welland Canal, there came aboard an Upper Lakes sailor, who had stopped off to visit relatives at Port Colborne. He said he wished to work his way home. He was a big man, and a revelation to the abused but unbroken kid. The man was groomed and dressed like a prince – broad-brimmed wide-awake hat, blue broadcloth coat, velvet vest, doeskin trousers, fine white shirt without collar or cravat, and shining leather boots, knee-high, with decorated panels of blue leather at the tops. A typical self-respecting and successful long voyager of the Great Lakes in the 1870s, he was a great contrast to the rag-a-muffin canal jumpers and tough guys of the timber trade. He carried two hand-sewn leather bags. When he emptied them in the forecastle, he folded up his visiting clothes, packed them neatly, and left hanging as good an outfit of oilskins and sea-boots as ever caught a cod-fish. He emerged in a blue derry smock and overalls, ready for the hardest job a mate or captain could set. The man carried himself with such assurance, from the moment he threw his bags over the rail, that all the petty bullies of the Albatross treated him with respect, recognizing a “big-vessel man” from “up above.” He said he spent his seasons on the big schooners of the Upper Lakes, at good wages, and he retired each fall for a snug winter at home in the west. Pat Canary was his name. As they towed out from Port Colborne, no one worked harder than Pat at the long job of refitting after canalling, and getting the Albatross' ten pieces of canvas set and drawing. When this was done, the crowd sat themselves down on the fore hatch and mopped their brows. They left to the horse boy the endless task of coiling down and stowing the miles of rope, which had descended to the deck as the mighty sails rose. “And be damn quick about it,” Bucko Brennan added. But Pat Canary did not sit down. He went on flaking the halliards faster than the kid had ever seen them coiled before. “Why leave it all to the boy?” demanded Pat, “He's worked as hard as any of us, and I'll bet he's just as tired. Let's all lend a hand.” “Aw, he's paid for that,” growled Bucko. “He'll do it or get the toe of the boot.” “It's the toe of my boot will be ticklin' you first,” Pat said cheerfully, hanging another coil on the belaying pin. The drougher men shamefacedly got off the hatch and went to work. It was thick weather most of the way up the lakes, and when they got into Lake Michigan, the smoke covered the sun. Off Milwaukee a tug came panting out, adding her wood smoke to the pall. “Chicago's on fire and burning to the ground!” hailed her skipper. “I've a wire for you to load in Milwaukee, and I'm to tow you in.” So the Albatross put in to Milwaukee, and at every bridge someone hailed Pat Canary. “Hiya, Pat. How the blank did ye get in a packet like that? How's all in the east? D'ye know Chicago's burned down?” He was manifestly a great power where ever he went. He introduced the kid to wieners and sauerkraut and pretzels and Pabst beer, in judicious quantities, but in innumerable places ashore. Everywhere he was popular and was told “your money's no good here, Pat, you know that!” And he would pay the shot and leave a quarter for the barman. “Pat,” asked the kid, “why can't I ship in one of these fine big vessels up here?” “B’y,” said Pat, “Them vessels is big and heavy rigged, and they drive 'em like express trains. They're too heavy for a lad of yo’r years, and they don't send b’ys to do men's work in 'em. Get some more beef on your bones, and in a year or two mebbe you can get a site in wan. Ye're a good lad, and you'll go far, but don't bite off more than ye can chew.” The Albatross was loaded scupper deep in Milwaukee, and there they left Pat, and sailed for Kingston. Pat's approval of the kid had raised his standing on board. Bucko Brennan ceased to persecute him, and the captain showed himself somewhat kind. |