No more was seen of
the baboon, but a little later the black scythe-like fins of three
sharks showed in the spot where he had disappeared."
_Plums from a Sailor's Duff._
It has been commonly expected of sailors in all ages that they should
encounter nothing upon the ocean but hair-breadth escapes. The theory
is that the mariner but half discharges his duties when his
experiences are limited to his work as a seaman. That he may be fully
and perfectly accomplished vocationally he must know what it is to
have been cast away, to have barely come off with his life out of a
ship on fire, to have been overboard on many occasions in heavy seas,
to have chewed pieces of lead in open boats to assuage his thirst--to
have encountered, in short, most of the stock horrors of the oceanic
calling. Considering, however, that the sailor goes to sea holding his
life in his hands, I cannot but think that his mere occupation is
perilous enough to satisfy the romantic demands of the shore-going
dreamer. It is feigned that the sea-faring life is not one jot more
dangerous than most of the laborious callings followed ashore. Let no
man credit this. The sailor never springs aloft, never slides out to a
yard-arm, never gives battle to the thunderous canvas, scarcely
performs a duty, indeed, that does not contain a distinct menace to
his life.
Pages:
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60