Arse Bucklers
I know they still exist, the heroes of the Horn and the Cape.Did you ever hear of the shoveling men in the coal-burning ocean steamers?
The stokers, the firemen,
and the trimmers,
they were called by many names.Down there below, in the stoke-hold,
in the bottom of the ship, they toiled,
they were men who wore no officers' caps,
nor brass-buttoned jackets either.They wore sweat-rags, singlets, and dungarees;
their belt buckles turned to their backsides;
shoveling and feeding the hungry furnaces.The steam stands at the top of the gauge,
and the engineer atop the engine-room
with his brass-buttoned jacket:
"We are doing the knots! This old whore takes twenty-four tons of coal a day".They were tramps, and they steamed up the ramps
their arses bearing ahead on their seaway.They hailed from nowhere, from the ports of nowhere,
from the hookers and the spirit.No, you do not see em' anymore - nor can hear of em' anymore.The noise and cursing below in the stoke-hold has ceased.
You do not see a trimmer anymore with his wheelbarrow.Shoveling their everlasting coal they have all gone, by the Cape of Good Hope and
with arses ahead, their seaway for India, going to Hell.

Harry Tobin

THE SMELL OF STEAM.

by HARRY ALIAS MARTIN LATIMER

 Chapter 1.

 My name is Charles, but call me Karl which is the common nickname of a Galley boy on board a finish merchant vessels.

You could hear someone saying, 'A sailor is not an average man'. I don't know how they take it in our days. Just I know, in those days, the life was very different and if you were an average man then you weren't a sailor.

Certainly, the merchant service couldn't be taken anything like a bourgeois occupation, or toil of a factory worker with all they regular life.

I remember that particular morning of December, I was traveling on the yellow auto-bus packed with the early birds of the factory workers on their way to the factory.

When arriving at the bus terminal in that small town on the West Coast of Finland, I took my gears, and stepped into the deserted street,to be facing the bitter north-east that blew through the empty streets, the wind moaned and made the street lamps glimmer, and there were reflects of the lights, cutting the snowy streets. I didn't leave the bus for a factory; I was going down to the sea.

There was a message in my pocket, sent by the harbor master Mr.Larson - short and clear it was; 'Come and join a ship, to go to the Sea.'

To the seagoing ship, I had been waiting for a long time.

Now there was the call of the sea offering me out of the joyless village, to get see the world.

With great difficulty, I had arranged all the documents required to become a sailor. It wasn't an easy task at all. The time in the poverty-stricken village had been with very little leisure - very little I say, very little. After all, any living soul would be eager to find something else, ripe to sign on a ship of any kind, of any size, just to see the world a bit. So, I was there at that early moment be facing the chilly morning, the street cold and hard under my soles. I was looking for a ride to the outer harbor, still didn't find anything such a means of transport - there were just a couple of long-nosed auto-buses, the buss stood there with their motors idly murmuring showing none with the plainly illuminated signs above their windshield they didn't indicate a sign to going anywhere. No more waiting, I said to myself, making up my mind to walk a bit, I pulled down my fur-cap and picking up my gears I started by foot for the harbor.

Dusk was the winter morning; everything around with snow. The wind blew down, and the flying snow powdering my fur cap with a white layer of snow. I went on, pacing my way toward the port the road ran along the river, then up to the bank. A noisy locomotive wheeled past by and when it was gone I took the line after the train. was freezing and having walked on following that track about a kilometer or so, I passed the red-brick customs house. Further, I went, then caught a glimpse of the cranes. I could see them standing up with their arms towering well over the Grey iron roofs of the warehouses,and beyond them I made out a shape of a steamship, lying alongside the quay.

" What ship is this?" I told myself. "The ship could be all right, but what about the crew itself may be". I knew some sailors, but what a brute waited for me aboard that unknown ship? Things may be different aboard the ship: an entirely new world I could not have imagined. My head and my brain were full of speculations concerning the future of mine.

Getting pasta the outer end of the low-roofed warehouse, I ran into a bunch of tramps standing on the lee side of the warehouse wall. They were bareheaded their hands buried deep in their overcoat pocket. I made past them and heads turned to thatch my go. The quayside was dimly lighted and darker it turned when a black cloud of coal raised by a blast of wind, and for a while, there was a black swirl in the air.

The tramps now turned their backs against the wind and pulled their bare heads further down, seeking more shelter in their upturned collars. I walked on and came under a yellow circle of the gangway light where I paused for breath. Looking up, I saw the tall, rust-streaked ship's side in front of me.

There she was. What a sight. Riding high from water with her lofty Grey painted hull with all those regular lines of rivets running over her hull's plates, just like seams of stitches. She looked very massive, and colossal, like a floating city, built up of wood and steel, fitted with lights and chimneys. A few lamps shone above the deck line, a poor light og them made dark shadows over the dim scene. I stood there on the quayside for awhile surveying her and trembling with tension, I could hear a sound, like a muffled whistle, coming through those crooked horns of the ventilators, and there was a smell, too, the sharp smell of burning coal. A black smokestack stood straight up like a pencil, pointing toward the murky sky above. I saw a white band around the smokestack, and there was seen a decorated scarlet vase on it. Stunned by the scene: with all those white painted rails, and davits, the lifeboats and all the multitudes of parts, and the alien atmosphere around the ship. The whole scene breathed such an adventure and romance of the sea.

Having completed my surveying of the romantic scene, a black figure of a man woke me into reality. A man, wearing a long overcoat crossed the quay and stopped next to me, after glancing down at my bag, the man greeted me by saying.

" Are you going to sign the ship article?"

"Yes, I replied."

" Hard times. Bad luck," the man said. " I'm also looking for a ship, but I've stuck on the shore. It's winter, you know. It's a bad time to the sailors. Could you spare some money for a cup of coffee."

Standing here the quay, in his poor rig, his hand outstretched to beg, this unfortunate man was a living symbol of the uncertainty of the trade of the sailor, like a warning flag raised up, beside the ship. I dug into my pocket and brought out three coins left over from the bus-Fare.

Then I started for the gangway setting my foot on the first rung of the gangway, a spout of water swept across and soaked my shoes, water came out from the ship's side, the condenser water showered out to the quay, a short arc of warm water splashed and steamed in the chilly air. With soaking shoes, I continued climbing up the gangway. The gangway hung out from a curved arm, extending from the upper deck, and it swung left and right. On the top stage of the gangway, I stopped for a while a square opening before me, there was a hand-railed iron ladder, leading up to the upper deck. By looking up, I saw a part of the bow of a lifeboat, peeping over the break of the boat-deck. I also saw massive blocks and tackle, hanging above the boats. An iron door was wide open into a passageway. I went on, taking a long stride over the high threshold and entered the passageway that looked like a long dark tunnel. A weak glow of lamps illuminated the passageway and there was a single row of doors looming out of the white bulkhead, two of doors were open, and a path of electric light from the first doorway cut across the dim passageway. When I peered through the lighted doorway, I found it being ship galley, and I could felt a delicate smell of coffee in the air drifting out of the galley, and I felt smells of cooked food. An elderly man wearing a dirty white jacket and striped trousers was pumping water onto a sink beneath, he was doing that with a very slow movements-the man, evidently, was the sea cook in this Galley. I stood for a moment in the glare of the lighted doorway, waiting for the cook to taken notice of my presence, but the cook I didn't pay any attention, to me, not even a glance at the doorway.

I tried to introduce myself: " I'm the new mess room boy".

"Speak to the Mate! " the cook snapped and went on with his work with torpid motions.

Suddenly there was a sound: outside of the galley, a rhythmic snapping of heels against the iron deck, a woman entered the Galley. She was dark and tall; she gave a quick, nervous glance at me and my bag. " Are you the new mess-room boy," she asked, then turned and left without waiting for my answer.She was back soon, with a very tall man. The man with an officer's cap towering so high that he had to bend

down to avoid hitting his head on the upper frame of the Gally door." Have you been at sea before?" the mate demanded. I was just about to reply that I had been working in the dockyard and knew the vessels, but the mate turned his back, went away and was out of sight. I heard his footsteps echoing from the deck as he went on his way up to the upper- deck. "You will start tomorrow morning at seven o'clock," the woman said.

Picking up my bag from the stone floor of the galley, I was ready to go, but I didn't know where to go next when I felt a light touch of a hand on my shoulder. Turning to see I saw a boy, about my age, with gray eyes and round flat face." Hi, you're the new one, aren't you? " I nodded. He added: " You're coming on to my place?" I nodded."Get your bag along, and let's go," the boy said. He shoved open the opposite double door to the passageway, then started advancing with vital steps. I followed him. In a row, we went along the passageway- which way, I had no idea, it was poorly lit passage; there was a solitary lamp on the ceiling and echoes of our footsteps rang between the steel walls. The boy opened another iron door and jumped over the threshold. We came out on deck on the starboard side of the ship, we kept going in a row around a corner, and then we were amidships of the forepart. Finally, the boy stopped before a teak door; it was fitted with a shiny brass knob. After pulling a brass key from his pocket, the boy turned the key in the lock and opened the door." So, when we put in, you must remember, keep this door locked and keep a good lookout. All kinds of people hang around on board here," he said. There was a deck cabin behind the door, no bigger than a broom closet. The cabin was simple; just a bare bunk riveted on the bulkhead and a clapperboard; the cupboard was fitted with a mobile patent so that, when opening the clapper, the washbasin turned out. When turned out the piped water flowed into the dish and when the slap was lifted up, the washbasin emptied itself, and it disappeared to be covered with the clapperboard. White daylight came into the small cabin through a single porthole, and a naked lamp hung from the ceiling, giving a faint glow. The air of the cabin was suffocating, and there was a smell of steam, a sort of vapor, The boy lifted up his bag and laid it on the bed starting to pack his stuff there." It's your cabin now," he said. "Make your home here. I will hang around this day, but by evening, I will get paid off and vanish. Don't worry, I will show up to you all around. The woman, so-called, Rissa, she is the steward, and our boss, you know; you will be responsible for her. The big fellow you saw there " is the chief mate" so-called Bloke, number one, and very tough man; more important than the sun itself. Watch the cook, that bloke is Jim"jams, try to member that the cook has the biggest knives on board."Also, he told me that in the amidships lives the captain, the deck officers, the engineers, the cook, and Rissa; the rest of the crew were in the crew's quarters under the poop at the rear of the ship.We moved out to the deck and stayed by the gunwale; there was a conical heap of slag and ash and all the time a monotonous sound as tap, tap, tap came from somewhere." It's the dynamo, the boy said. "It makes the power for the lamps aboard, and there. He pointed towards the open black iron doorway, in which smutty bars and pitch-dark bottomless abyss opened in the bulkhead, thereunder; down, lead a vertical iron ladder." There down below, there is the stoke-hold, the black hole; it's the place for the stockier. The place where goes the bad boys when they died. And the ladder there is s the black Jacob's ladder."

From the bottom of this pitch, dark abyss came up a sound as of a shovel boosted along iron plates."When you ever come and go, between the pantry and this cabin, don't use the way through the galley. Try to avoid using that way, because the cook is getting mad. Try to find another way, like this."The boy waved to me to follow him, and we went again, along with the alleyway, and then through the door to the iron bridge, guarded by an iron safety rails, the handrails shone with active use. This narrow bridge ran over the engine top, and the warm air around us was thick with warm oily steam, down below, on a metal grating, I saw in the increased natural light of the skylight, numerous control valves, and an enormous amount of tubes of different thickness, circulating by the walls. A platform, or rather an upper stage on the top of the main engine, was made of iron bars, three upper head of the huge cylinders of the steam main engine, reached up to the level of the upper platform and a narrow ladder ran deep down all other things disappeared into the dusk of the engine room bottom deep down below on the bottom of the ship; I could see vague shapes of human heads, moving to and forth, down there in the dusk of the engine room, like disembodied heads swinging in the air.The officer's mess- room was a space in which all the officers of the ship gathered to eat and drink together, it was part of my working environment. Despite its glorious name, the room seemed to be a modest room; furnished with a long narrow table and wooden benches on either side of it; you could find seats like that in every park, the table was fitted with sideboards, which could be quickly raised in bad weather. There was a narrow servant scullery behind the wall. All the water needed do the dishes had to be carried in bucket under the hand pump in the corridor; then there was a steam pipe that under the bucket was placed, and when the valve was turned open, a jet of steam shot out into the water with sound of loud thunder with such force that the water in budget turned in warm less than a minute. The boy was as on pins and needles; he was keen to leave. Of course, you'll get along, he exclaimed. There will be no problem at all. Everything will be all right. You just lay down the mugs and cups on the table and get the grub out from the galley; then you guard them as they eat, ready to act if someone of them needs something. When the task all is over, and last of the eater had vanished his meal, you wash up the dishes, and so your work of the day is over. It's so easy. Well, there are also cleaning jobs to do, but Rissa will guide it to you."He paused to get his hair combed with pomade, and, dressed up in his leather blouse, then anxiously started strolling between the outer rail and the cabin, he showed up his wristwatch. You also should have one like this, this is an Atlantic; this sort of stuff you can have from Belton, in Poland. He also took out his blue covered passport, checked it, and then put it into his outer breast pocket so that the upper part of the passport remained in sight."Shore people will know that I am a sailor. It will blow a good effect on the women."I watched his fussing. "To a motor ship. The motor ship I want to. Motor She must be; I want to sign next," he said. " They are another kind of ship. Not like this coal tramp shipping. Then he smiles and said; Do you know how they call this ship?"I shook my head."Vodka Johanson," he said. Rissa appeared on deck with her skirt swinging. " To the captain's salon, both of you!" was her order. The main salon on board the Jonsson was a part of the captain's department; in addition to the sophisticated atmosphere, there was an air of foreign origin, rare scents and the odor of cigars and precious wood. There was a lot of plush and lustrous brass as well, and real armchairs and maroon curtains. From this kind of environment comes the authority of the ship's master. We came in this sanctuary as two peasants come into a mansion. The table's glossy surface was covered with very official-looking papers. The muster roll was folded open, the coffee set was on the other end of the table, and I got an unwittingly thought that the coffee wasn't there for us. An old woman and a man sat on the sofa behind the table. Later I got to know that they were in attendance to be the agents for the National Board of Navigation. All of them showed up precisely such an essence of authority that could be found in their already taciturn being. On the right side of this engagement party, a bit apart, in an armchair, sat the Master and commander of the ship, the man was a middle"aged and pale-faced man, whose face was full of lines and grooves. Saying no hello, he glanced at us as the master used to look at his subjects, standing there on the red carpet with their matted hair and holding their hats in their hands. Behind the table, the old woman raised her silvered head and looked over her glasses at us."Who is the new, to be mustering aboard."I stepped ahead. "I'm."You will sign on as the mess room boy. Is that so? The woman glanced at the captain. "And this other fellow will be a signed out?""Yes."Several seals stamped on the papers, and several signatures were given on too many papers. I had to put my name down all of these papers, the occasion, which felt very solemn to me, was soon over. I got a small pay" book with my photo. When I outside the salon. On deck examined this book I saw there a stamp and place and time of the signing. All these notes were made by an old-fashioned cursive and were evident that I was now a sailor, a small one, but a sailor nonetheless. Later the same evening when I was unloading my suitcase in the cabin I heard from outside a hoarse blast of a foghorn. I finished my task and went out to the deck to see what was that all. Standing by the rail, I looked out. There was a tugboat with her slow black hull, it was a stubborn-looking small vessel; her bow curved backward, and she puffed a black smoke from her funnel. The smoke rifled slowly over the icy water, and I could sniff a smell of burned coal in air, two motionless figures of men stood on the deck of the tug.

Suddenly heavy drops of condensed water rained down on me; and overhead, from the top of the funnel the hot drops of the hissing steam were falling and the ship's fog" horn begun a wild howl, making a reply to the tug's call. It was time to sail.

Chapter 2

In the night I awoke with the feeling that the ship was rolling, I felt how the small cabin rocked slowly from side to side; there were a vibration and the ship's hull trembled, and the clapperboard made a noise like a low tat" too. I switched on the light and lay on the bunk fully clothed. Then I heard a noise; there, outside of the cabin, some object was dragging across  the deck; I heard a crashing sound as a wave hit the hatch in the bulwark and something was shoveled overboard. Suddenly there was a growing of voices and a great tramping of feet rushing on the ladder leading up to the boat deck, a tumult sound into the cabin, it sounded as if some persons were gathering on deck, outside of my cabin. I sat on my bunk and listened. What was this all about, then got up unlocked the door and pushed it ajar, peeping into the darkness I saw two human figures standing nearby the rail. A small lamp on the bulkhead illuminated the scene; I saw the lustrous wet skin of iron bulwark. Beyond the bulwark, there was the vast emptiness of the dark sea, from where the sound of the waves and the moan of the wind could be heard. One of these men wore an old military blouse, and a woolen balaclava was pulled over his head. Another character, next to the first one has nothing but a bunch of hair on his head; the man stood half faced to the light; he seemed to be lean lightly dressed black man and was close to an ash-dumper that attached to the bulwark. The yellow wedge of light from the door cut across the darkness and it hit the two men standing by rail; white eyeballs flashed, and the white sweatband stood out with a thin stripe against the black skin of the man. I shut the door. I didn't know what the time was, and I lay down half-awake on the bunk. Later, how much later I have no knowledge. I was awakened by a loud banging on the door, and there was a voice crying outside: "Wake up! Wake up! It's six o'clock! Wake up, you there."It was quarter past six as I staggered into the mess room where  I found Rissa: she sat at the end of the table with a cup of coffee in front of her, smoking a cigarette. She was a large woman with dark hair; heavily build like a peasant woman with strong Tatar or Jews face.   When she spoke, there was a deep alto in her tone. She could have been about the age of thirty or less. When she saw my entering, she glanced at me."Your cabin was locked"."Who told you?"

"The watch told me that the door was locked, she said." I nodded."You don't keep the door locked at sea, the shore people locked their doors, but no a seaman on the open sea. If something happens, you will be locked in there and will go down with the ship. Try to remember it. Now you must bring the coffee up to the bridge."At half-past six, under the direction of the Rissa, I collected cups upon the tray; the moody minded and faced cook chucked two buns on the tray and a full can of black coffee, then thrust it into my hand. Holding the tray in balance, I set out and started for the bridge, climbing the ladder that led up to it; the way was steep and slippery. Step by step made my way, and I rose; the higher I got the more the ship was rolling. Each step asked for hard labor and all the time the ship rolled and plunged while single-handed I struggled up. It was hard work, but finally, I managed to end up on the bridge and stood in front of the closed sliding door of the wheelhouse. The chief mate, wearing a long fur coat, plucked the door open. I held the tray out with straight hands unable to move."What the hell you are up? " Take it in all the way there. At the same moment the ship swung, and I plunged into the wheel"house, thrown by the impetuous inclination of the ship, and without reducing my speed, I crossed the floor of the wheelhouse and was hurled into the navigation cabin. Then, under the ship's reverse movement, I could stop and laid the tray on the chart table. As I slowly returned cross the wheelhouse, I had time to notice the steering wheel on my left side, and behind it, was, standing on the flat platform, the seaman I had seen the previous night, talking with the black man on deck. Later I heard him called the Metros. With greedy eyes, I surveyed the environment around. The wheelhouse paneled in teak, and there was a brass binnacle nearby the front window. On my right hand stood the well"polished telegram machine; behind the row of numerous windows was an excellent view of the extensive sea. I went out to the wing of the bridge and stayed for a moment to look. It was a good stage to see, to take a view around; it was almost unhampered panorama over the ship, far out to the sea, I could see the forepart of the ship, clearly in the gray light of the sky, rolling slowly, the masthead drawing a gentle arc against the sky. The general color of the sea was gray, so was the sky above. It was an impressive sight, this infinite expanse of the sea around. The ship made h constantly rolling movement from left to right and back again; the standing rig and all the fixed wires and ropes rose diagonally up and was fixed to the mast, under the black cross-tree. Looking backward, I could see how the stern rose and fell at even intervals, and the wake was visible with two white lines of foam behind the ship. Through the cold gray sea, the ship proceeded, and there was the undulating wake behind it, was as straight as an arrow, we were heading before the wind; followed by the gray waves that lifted their manes in the same direction. The black smoke of burning coal was drifting with the wind and was lowering down in troughs. It was quiet; the greatest noise in this environment was the sound of the rising and falling waves and the hiss of the bow wave. Aloft, from the rig, I could hear a slow hum of breeze. complete my survey, I learned my duty; there was the daily cabin cleaning aboard. By following Rissa's instructions, I began to clean the first engineer's cabin. The cabin was scantily furnished; there were just a tiny writing table, a short sofa and a high bunk, insulated by curtains, and the wardrobe in the corner, the cabin was bare like a cage; there wasn't anything like a family portrait on view-no photographs of any kind, even not a calendar with the pictures of half-naked girls, which were so popular among the sex-starved seamen.

Faint booming was heard from the floor; I bend down to see, then opened the bottom drawer under the bed and found there a row of empty Vodka bottles rolling up and down with the cycle of ship's motion.

The door opened, and the first engineer entered the cabin. He was a stubby, powerfully built man, with a flat nose; the corner of his eye was thick like a boxer's, however on his moon-round face was playing with the smile giving him expression; benevolent and disarmed. The man was Polish, his name was Strong, except his native language he was not able to speak any other; he has couple words of German and two or three words of English, just what the doctor ordered for his duty in the engine-room.

Lack of communication between the crew was not an obstacle, the ship's work is similar everywhere, in the oceangoing or local trade, there is no need to speak the ships at sea, in the engine room, he hasn't company with speak to, the stokers, shoveling the coal into greedy furnaces, were poor conversationalists, and if they weren't drunk, they were sick from the previous drinking bout and very taciturn, very quiet, indeed The engineer now conjured up a bottle of vodka and poured right away full a glass of it then extended it toward me. I understood that he wished to toast for the newcomer. I swallowed down a mouthful of strong liquid, and then with pantomime gestures, I told him that there still is a lot of work to do and by lifting up my items from the floor, I ran away. During the same morning, I came upon a man repairing the step of the officer's mess-room; he was an elderly man and evidently the ship's carpenter. Having seen me, he, very benevolently, made inquiries-whether I had been afloat before or if this ship was the first one. Each person I came across on board the ship was asking me the same thing. Perhaps there was something extraordinarily humble in my presence that appealed to pity, or my ignorance, so that all aboard seemed taken me with a similar attitude as the officers of the Catty Sark were taken the Chinese orphan baby boy whom they found drifting in a small skiff in the Indian Ocean and whom they adopted on board the ship Cutty Sark

Chapter 3

There was plenty of provision aboard, a food of any stuff, sausage and tinned fruit always in hands. Irrespective of the new environment I was totally surprised by the prevailing practice on board. I had lived in a tiny fishing village where their people spent every day of their working life with skimpy meals. There had always been very high veneration for the supplies; food was corn of the Gold, and it had to be used sparingly. I had sharp orders giving Rissa to throw all the remaining meal and food overboard, I was not used to doing things like that and as I protested, Rissa said, "Not worry. Our generation will not save anything, and the next one will have nothing to save." I obeyed, and an everyday lot of good flew over the side, meals, which could have been enough, supply with food for twenty more men. For two days, we steamed toward the north through the grayish sea of Botnia. We would arrive at Wasa - the northern city of the Sea of Botnia - by

the next afternoon. The ship had the cargo-carrying capacity of three thousand and four hundred tons, and we will load timber for Holland. One part of the cargo would be a loading on deck. The ship had the crew of twenty-four, all told. All that Rissa told me thinks; She seemed to be privy to all that what happens on board the ship. She went on telling that Andrea, the second mate and the Possum, both of them were keeping a beard because it was the fad in Sweden. The Cook is a drunkard and bungler, who should be fired at the next Port to call . And what about the black gang, all them nothing but similar. The firemen; stokers how they call them- in her view, those loggers were worthless ashore and risky aboard a ship. The sailors, the deck gang, although they are not the best, "Anyway, we can trust them," she said. I got to know the men she was speaking about by the next months. It was all-new and exciting to me, later I learned that although Rissa wasn't afraid of anything but a big fish, she had a secret fear. She has an inexplicable fear of the ship's steam boilers. Why she was so afraid of the boilers, there was no telling, she only knew; there was a connection between the fireman and those boilers. When the ship was at sea, she didn't worry much about the matter, because the engine room then was occupied by several people, but when the ship was in port secured at quay, and there was a lonely watchman on duty, then she kept on eyes the stoker who was watching overnight in the boiler room. When she got to know, that the firemen were drunk, she spends sleepless nights, and one could hear the tapping of her heels on the iron deck, and see her moving nervously forth and back between the officer's mess room and her cabin. By the afternoon of the next day beyond the eastern horizon, a flat rocky coastline was seen with a conically shaped landmark, and soon there was the white streak of pack ice emerging out from the winter mist. The ship swung and there was a noisy rumble on the top of the engine room as the steering engine began it's grossly run from side to side; I wondered how violent those fist blow of the floes were as they hit the hull, making the whole ship shiver from bow to stern. There was increasing activity aboard; all hands were out on the deck, wearing their winter overalls; stained with dirt and grease, hurrying along the alleyways, past the galley, forwards, and aft. I could hear the shouting of the seamen, and the loud words of orders following a crude swearing. The ship had got in the packed ice. After each mile the proceed became more involved; she labored hard and was making her noisy way through the ice mass, and there were thumps of ice floes against the hull and clanging of the hooked kettles in the galley as they drummed against the wall. It was late evening when the clattering and trembling ceased and the ship was berthing, and the gangway lowered.

Chapter 4

Getting finished the dishes, Rissa fetches a bottle of Wolf Head-Gordon Gin from ship's depot. " It's the portion of crew members," she answered my astonished look. In the evening I saw a group of sailors going ashore; they were drunk and as they made down along the wobbly gangway; there was a great hubbub and then and now they staggered against the guardrail. It was the New Year's Eve. Rissa told me to bring lot of mixed juice into the officer mess-room, and by eight o'clock most of the amidships people were gathered in the mess-room, drinking their jolly Bolls liquor and speaking the Swedish language together they talk and the topic and theme of the mess room wasn't anything but the habitual ship's talk. There were argues of the events of the days and their voices surfed and waves in that small room. The Polish engineer sat among them with his flat face red and his large round head sweating; he didn't understand a word of the spoken language, he drank a lot and kept his smile on; with his natural Slav soul he enjoyed sitting amid a large company and had a drink with them. The night wore on, and as the clock showed eleven at night, the air in the mess-room was growing pretty thick with cigarette smoke and vapor; the door was set wide open in the alleyway. Then high the voices in the mess-room rose then lower the dignity reduced. A quarrel had raised between the Chief mate, and the boy faced Chief engineer. The subject of those discusses was from the day's events aboard the ship. Mr. Mang, the chief mate, was claiming that the engine room couldn't deliver up good steam enough for the full speed run. " There is not enough steam available to get the deck's derricks run,"The chief mate bawled. The chief engineer sat in silence for a moment. Although the air in the room was warm, he had a peak cap on his head, and his face was red under it." It's not so easy task to get the steam up to the top and keep it on top, too when there's possible wait for a random order to stop the main engine. The steam would run away, or the boiler blows up, anyway, blowing the steam...up to the sky. And what it will cost for the company! Whenever we blow up the steam in the air, it's like a waste the money, I hope it will be worth the money. The steam costs money, you know."Then they were talking and yelling all at once, waving their arms, voices surging back and forth. The topic was from the ship and the crew in her."I'm pretty sure that we will need fresh stokers, "the second joined to the conversation. Rissa didn't participate in this endless waving row, between the deck and the engine- room. Instead, she wanted to know what the name of the last ship of the new cook, who was sitting on the outer end of the bench. Olli was the name of this blond haired sea cook; he was a slim, pale young man wearing thick-rimmed glasses and a black overcoat. He had arrived on board earlier in the evening, and because it was New Year's Eve he had naturally got drunk right away. He still wore his overcoat, and. He sat among the amid ship's people, speaking with brings drunken tone, more by himself than to the people around him; he was eager to let all to know that he was the oceans wander, an old stagger." I have been out here for a long time-all over the world from China to Peru, he said. then added:"Don't ye come to me for advice about the grub; the grub is my trade. If I see a bunny running, I always think how good meal I could make of it. Yeah, the canoe was Jytte. Jitter, say I was the name of the last canoe I was on; say, we were up in the north on the Archangel route, from the arctic winter to the tropical water. It was a shadow line really, Say it was."

I made the acquaintance of a deck boy who was called Junky. He had the night watch on deck, and he hung around near the gangway entrance. His night watch began from the evening and lasted until seven in the morning. " They're all damn' similar, " he said gesturing towards the officer mess-room. " All officers are bastards. They slander the folk under the poop deck, but they are just fucking the same. Take the look at an example that Pole. The codger is the skill to keep him drunk all the time, but he can do it so that no one can see."I looked over the rail, down the quay. In spite of the late hour, there were people there, walking along on the illuminated quayside and hanging around there and here; they were walking in pairs and groups. My attention was arresting a black figure at the foot of the immobile crane; there was seen a black, lonely shape of a man, leaning against the foot of the crane. There was something strange in this motionless, dumb and black figure, standing there in the darkness, and because the man stood at a distance of about a hundred and fifty or so, it was difficult to make out in which direction the man was watching."It's the fucking Phantom there. Lurking for girls, Junky said."" Girls?, "I wondered."Yes, the whores," he repeated, giving a quick glance at his wrist. " Usually, they are not here down until the small hours. If they come at all, the man there below is the vice squad, twat, bastard who will spend his cold night out there as a watchdog."It's will be a cold night to spent out there."What a sort of loyalty made this knight of sad cast stand there on a cold winter night watching women illicit boarding. What was it the used? Standing alone in the cold night it could not be the only sake of duty of that sort; no, there must be something else in the mind of the argue eyes dog. A noise of a dispute came to our ears from the officer's mess. Then there was shouting. Com on! Com on out the deck! You, Yo!We went to see, what was this all about. The Chief mate stood the alleyway, not so firmly planted, his arms waving. In front of him, a bit apart stood up the Pole, still the benevolent expression on his round face, his face was littering perspire and I at once saw that there was a fighting in progress.With easy movement, the Pole hit at the face of the chief mate, and it was easy. Indeed, there was no resistance nor will to fight anymore, the chief mate let his hand fell and turned his back and went in the mess room, and the whole performance was over less than in five minutes.The night was bitter cold and snow was falling; it seems as if t the light of the lamps made the snow shine as yellow light on the wharf. A man with a gaunt, unshaven face, bare-headed and wearing a snappy gabardine was climbing the gangway. Junky took his guard stance toward the embarking stranger, blocking the way." What bring you here " I heard him inquiring." I am looking for friends of mine, was the reply. " What's the name your friend?" Legion Kane is the name of the stoker; I am seeking after. I am also a smoker you know. Now no job-it's winter, you know. The winter is theirs, the summer is ours, the man said, nodding his head toward the bridge. No man like that aboard here said, Junky." Should be," the man demanded." No one aboard like

that."" Let me aboard for a bit to get some drink and warm my feet."" No way. Junky said."Junky held his mind and the man turned around and started for shore. I bent to look down over the rail and saw this freeze"dried Lazarus descended to shore and then crossed the quay and disappearing behind a storage hut on the quay. For a moment, I had a feeling of being advantaged, the usual shipboard behind me with its warm interiors and all that food made me felt cozy, and I felt belonging to the ship's company. At midnight on that particular night, when the old year turned into the New Year, there were blasts of sirens of the ships around and the wild hailing of the men who bit the New Year welcome. The last cabin, on the port side of amidships, was the abode of Mr. Henderson, the third mate. Mr. Henderson was a large skinny man, with a gaunt face he was already past his best years, and there was a screwball stare in his watery gray eyes. He seemed spent his time in his cabin, for very seldom I found him sitting in the mess room amid the other people. Mr. Henderson was native of Aland, a Finnish Swede by descent, from an island in the Gulf of Finland, which was famous for those great days for the deep sea sailing vessels. Now his cabin's door was wide open and seeing me pass by; he gestured for me to step in. I entered, The mate was sitting at his small table, and after he had beckoned to me to sit down, he filled a glass with whiskey and with a swift motion, waved the glass toward me. He didn't say very much, just sat and made some noise; for a while, he grunted as though he was trying to remember something. Suddenly he hit his forehead with his palm and as if he just now remembered his name and address, and he loudly exclaimed, " I am Riley Henderson from Marjanham, Alan Finland! He said something more with his eyes glittering. He seemed to fall into his confused memories so deeply that he entirely has forgotten my presence; then he burst into a fit of awful coughing. I stood up and set off, letting his duel with his cough, and far out could hear how this ancient sailing ships' Mariner was coughing alone in his small cabin. Junky told that sailors managed to get two girls aboard. On my way to the deck, I came across Rissa."Captain not like this noise," she said, " there are now some visitors in the aft. Not go there, they are bad girls ", this saying she wished me good night and a better new year and disappeared into her cabin. The bad girls, who were them, what Rissa meant by that? I wanted to know. I went to Aft when limped up to poop deck; I saw a bundle of a figure of a girl, squat down, aside the resource wheel, seeing me, the girl arose, hoisted her pants and slipped down by the company way, I followed her, down below to the aisle, there was loud music playing and clamor carried up from below. and there were open doors of cabins around the aisle. A tall, slim man wearing in American style jeans came out one of the cabins; I saw female face peeping behind and there was a black haired little fellow, another a blond haired man came out of a cabin and a bottle of Vicky was pasted toward me." Take a dram, Karl, take a dram or two,"And I took one, then second. The music was playing all the time,"Who is this boy", older women asked. ""He's Karl, the galley boy", the blond-haired man said." I want to come with you", the woman said."Karl lives on the midships, the blond man said."I want to midships". the woman said. The music played and someone sings. The next day was Sunday, as the Sunday was the holiday there was still aboard. the cook was sick and so were the other,By ten o'clock Rissa asked me. "Do you have a girl in your cabin",I nodded. Rissa went to see, and when returned she said, "That girl could be more beautiful if she has washed underwear.".When I came to the cabin the girl whose name was Ulla was laying in the bunk, seeing me she said. "Oh, Karl, you were angry last night. You hit the bulkhead with your fist and I was so afraid of you.

Chapter 5

I had been accustomed to a hard outdoor life, and hard work suit to my circulation, so one could say that I was hard like an Indians of the Rocky Mountains, and I felt that I could be a little bit too crude and awkward for the work like the mess servant; still I did my work as well as I could, for I never had a habit to refrain from any work. One morning Rissa send for me. Upon entering her cabin, I found her sitting at a tiny writing table and after I had got seated, she turned to look at me and said." You Charles are a young man, and I can see you been accustomed to hard work, so I said to the captain that you will shift to deck; that's better for you. You could have more pay, and soon you will be an ordinary seaman. I told the captain that this boy will be a good sailor, and so we agreed that you could receive the vacancy as the deck boy, even today you can shift your gear over aft. The official muster for the change will be later. Now, get moving. I thanked her for all that she had done and had spoken on behalf of me to the captain and has satisfied with my performance after all that thank I took my gear and shifted aft, under the poop deck, down by the companionway, to the port side of the ship, to the small cabin was in which I had to live and spent rest of my time. The cabin was small and, also, the two bunks there were two open portholes on the slanting outer bulkhead. The lower bunk was occupied with sooty bedclothes, but the upper one seemed to be empty; I settled on it. When I made my home in that small cabin there was no one making me welcome; all the occupants of the rear ship were busy on the deck or in the engine room. The living compartment was divided into two parts; on the port side of the time lived the firemen, the donkey man, and the trimmer. In the starboard side of the ship, situated the cabins of the deck crew, able seamen, ordinary seamen, two deck boys, the carpenter, and the boatswain. These cabins of the sailors were comfortable, and there were adornments with colored lamps and hangings. The port side's cabins; belonged to the firemen, Stoker as they call them, they were tight holes and barred by interiors. There were only some smutty overalls and the sweatbands hanging on the wall hooks. Their bedding was smutty, and the stokers usually lay fully dressed on their bunks. Most of them were tramps and so poor that they did not possess more than one pair of trousers, a single jacket and pair of shoe with slant heels. Their work at sea in the stoke"hold was hard, and their drinking was harder, there is a saying, that the stokers were going around the world with their arse ahead; it was a quite apropos dictum, for the stokers literally, and in practice spent their watch at sea working in the boiler room like the rowing slaves of Roman caller's, their backs turned toward the direction of the ship, seeing nothing but the black bulkhead around, and the burning furnace before their eyes. I know, there are much honorable talk and tales about the Cape Horner, and there is somewhere an annual meeting where those old sea scouts gathered together dressed in their blue jackets with brass buttons, to recall those heroic days of their rounding Cape Horn and drinking for their hero's achievement. They all have been sailors on deck and aloft in the bridging. I was to come to know the black gang that worked in the stoke"hold of the coal"burning vessel, working as stokers in the boiler room on the tropical latitudes, when there is no wind enough to blow the smoke away from the head of the funnel, and when the temperature on the deck is showing steady more than 40 degrees Celsius in shadow, and when the only nourishment that could keep the stomach, is the cruel, and there is no hope for fresh air. Despite all of this finished, there is no one on shore who paid notice of these kinds of heroes because in the typical general look there are no heroes there in the stokehold, just the tramps. By the evening of the day of my new promotion came, and I had settled down into my new abode, I with surprise found a pitch black fellow laying on the lower bunk. I said hello then sat down on the wooden bench under the porthole. With a side glance, I examined the fellow laying on the bed, and very soon got wise to two things; there was a white man under the black layer of coal, and the man was one of them I had seen standing outside my amidships cabin at the first night at sea. I knew that the shipmate was the trimmer, a member of the black gang, and my roommate. The crew was not divided only into the black gang and the deck sailors. The deck crewmen were shipping into able seaman, ordinary seaman, and the greenhorns as well. A deck boy on his first voyage is not required to know anything about the practical work of the vessel, but an able"seaman must know all his duties aboard well and to perform the job as a professional well-known. When I served on the amidships as the galley boy I could have easily got work as a dayman; but when I was sifting through the poop to be as the deck boy all quickly changed. And if I could have been regarded as an orphan with pity at amid ship service, after joining the deck crew I was no more as the adopted child of Catty Cark; I was no treated as Sven Toove, the imbecile draftee of the Swede Finnish poet Runeberg. When some order sent me toward forecastle, I went aft; the terms the seamen used sound odd to me, although I had a great desire to perform all the tasks, and I was so confused by this strange lingo that I had to guess what they meant by all that. I was everybody's slave, but I was young and strong and along the days I ran, doing all dirty jobs aboard, even sometimes I was sent for helping the trimmer down in the stoke-hold, I tirelessly ran over the hatchways, up and down by ladders, trying to follow all those strange orders the Bosum and the able seamen were giving

me on time. Half past seven in each harbor morning the night watchman brought the cafe breakfast from the galley into deckhouse on the poop in the aft mess room then routed up the wholly crew. And a couple of minutes before eight o'clock the third mate turned us out. He did it every morning in very strange way, which seemed very odd to me. He was throwing himself into mess room like madman bellowing at the same time out his command:"TURN TO! All men out on the to the deck. !The work must start now! Right away! Cruelly cursing the mate rushed out and back again into the mess room. He did all that rushing with a habit like panic, finally relaxed, sat down the at end of the table and grunted there in a choked voice while we get ready up and out.

Chapter 6

The chief mate on merchant's vessels has always been called as the first one, or number one, or the Bloke, which represents the first"ranking officer on board. The form of this nickname is modified from the hierarchy of ships. A ship need not be classified in A 1, which means the very best ship in the Loyd's Register of shipping, but the chief officer will always be a number one on board any ship, the Mariner with a great ability and readability. Mr. Mang was the chief mate aboard Johan, was a man with his vast bulk and a noble psychical outlook that would have been suitable for some opera, but not on board a coal"burning seagoing steamer. Because through the centuries every man on board a ship existed only by his ship and for the ship-not the ship existing for the men- therefore, the crew members on board the ships were traditionally labeled by their occupation, as the second mate, the Donkeyman, the AB, the trimmer, the carpenter, the Bosun. Lowest in this categorization has always been the deck boy. A greenhorn on his first trip aboard is the object of the mischief; sometimes it will be a very crude joke. The chief part of the deck crew of the Johanson was hailed from the west coast of Finland. Many of them were from the northern isles of Finnish Potnia, but there were also men from the southern part of this Finnish coastal region, which was referred to as the Holy Land. This name has nothing to do with the well-known name of the Holy Land on the southern shore of the Mediterranean; this coast was situated far more north, above the sixty degrees of the north latitude. There is telling in the history that this land has not always been called, as Holy Land. In the past, this coastal region was known as the Bad Land. For centuries this isolated coast was avoided by the seafarer for its reputation of being difficult to reach and of the mysterious missing men and crafts; there was a passage near the mainland, which the early merchantmen were forced to use in bad weather. Many ships were missed in this region; no a trace of these ships or their crew was seen anymore. But gossip of pirates went to Stockholm and reached the ear of the bishop. Halfway through 1100 Bishop Henry made a Crusade to this barbarian coast, killing all the male found in this barbarous region, at the end of that Crusades, he erected, for the victory of the Christianity, a wooden chapel on the hill, and to be sure that the result of his Crusade could bear fruit he assures it by leaving a chaplain in this village where all the full-aged men were killed. In a single person's cabin in the middle of the transept corridor lived an able seaman named Nygard. He was a gloomy mind, tall, fat"faced young man, and native of the Holy Land. In spite of the fact that he was a descendant of the Christian priest who was the ancestor of all the people of that community, he had plenty of suspicions for any strangers; the xenophobia was deep-rooted in memory of his home district, so deep that one priest's lifeblood in their veins was unable to root out that xenophobia that has lived for centuries among them. One evening I was sitting in my cabin on the bench under the two portholes. The door was open as usual, and I head Junky and Niggard playing music and drinking their Bolls liqueur in their cabin. Suddenly I saw Nygard appear in the doorway of my cabin. He stood in the doorway for a while, holding the doorposts fast with both hands, and stared at me with watery eyes. His mouth was twisted in a grimace, and he started for me; then taking the two steps, which were among us, he seized me by my throat. You dam a fan' you bloke. I will show you that you are nobody", he grunted against my face. I was not worried; it was very easy for me to break away from the script of this simple-minded islander. For the next two weeks at this loading port. Every morning at seven o'clock the loading gangs came aboard. There were few women among them. The ship's winches were operated by the winches men and with the warning cry, they lifted the load from the quay and then lowered it down into cargo holds where the large hands of longshoremen reserved it and piled the planks in good order from side to side. Soon the there were piled yellow planks and in the aft hold, the shaft tunnel was covered by yellow wood On the starboard side in the crew quarter was a cabin that belonged to an able seaman named Attila, he was the oldest able seaman on board, and he was a short"haired man, like a jailbird. He always wore a gray coat and broad belt on it, the knife was hanging back side of him, he bore it much by the same way as the sailors did in the past. The AB was not strongly built, but one could see him being vigorous and hard as a leather nail. He footed around with his ankle boots, and a Tartar cap was on his head. No one aboard seemed known-or heeded-where he originated. I was working on deck with a red-haired ordinary seaman named Penacook. We were on duty erecting the poles by the gunwale for supporting the deck cargo. We labored to set up the heavy poles with great difficulty when Attila hurried past, toward the amidships. Peacock gave glance after him then spat over the side and said. Look at him. He looks like a Russian from the Stalin's camp. By the afternoon coffee time at three o'clock, a man in a gray suit with a briefcase appeared aboard. He made straight into the sailor's mess room. Already from a distance, he shouted out his questions. "I am Pena Perkiö. Is there someone who has not yet paid his due to the union. Are all of your membership cards in good order?". Who is this man I asked of the able seaman who was called the Seven Seas. It's the Union man, the Seven Seas said. The Union man came and sat at the end of the mess room's table and took out of his briefcase, a stamp, and a small coffee. The seamen crushed down into their cabins to be back soon with a little blue membership card in one hand and money in other. There is a rumor, announced the union man. That our fellow sailors aboard the icebreakers would start the strike for better pay for our union's members. The government has threatened to replace the merchant seamen with the navy men. If so, then we will not follow the icebreakers manned by Navy men. Since they are not professional seamen, and they have nothing to do with the navy merchant business. There will be risks of many sorts if we will follow the icebreakers manned by the Navy men. So when the order comes to put the ship out, do not touch the mooring wires. All other work aboard is free, but the vessels will stay in port so long as this conflict is solved. Who will support the strike on board the icebreakers?". All hands rose." Well, nice to see that we will stand together. The union man stamped the cards, and the whole crew present gathered around him, and there was to be heard some veiled ask around; whether one could lend money for pay the due for union- to be payback in the next port. On seeing Attila, the union man raised his eyes. " Aha. In's there no less than the red metros himself. You still belong to our union, you old devil, although you well know the rule; no politic on board a vessel." As you see. I'm still here. Be careful. Not agitation on board, Shut up and keep it closed. We don't want to give to the opponent reason to call us commie. This one here is a new candidate for membership to our yacht club. The Bosum said, pointing at me."Good, said union man, and took now out a small blue book, keeping on his speaking at the same time as he began to fill the page of the person register and questioning me"There is word circulating, the union man said. " Our fellow sailors on board the icebreakers could be the strike for the better payment -What's your name. Charles. " What else. "Are you born on the moon or the earth. The government has threaded to be replacing the merchant seamen by Navy men. If so, then we will not be willing follow the icebreakers manned by Navy men. So when the order comes to put the ship out to sea do not touch to the mooring wires.-Put you mark or signature; he stretched the paper and pen toward me keeping on his announcement. " All work on board is free, but the vessels will stay in port so long as need this conflict to be solved. And you, " he added the words now to me. " I tell you. If you think you could touch the mooring rope during the strike, I can assure that it will be your last deed on board any ship. Who will support the strike on board the icebreakers? " Well, is nice to see that we will stand together, and there is not any rat aboard. All the sea folk; sailor and the Stoker moved from the mess room to the poop deck. The union man had packed his items into his briefcase and stood a while on the poop deck close by the ship's second wheel." If there will be a risk get boots, keep in mind this. If any oppression take place aboard, or any crew member becomes kicked and fired. I tell you; the gangway will be just as long for the captain as it's for the smallest deck boy aboard. I mean by that we have power enough to put on the gangway anyone, the master as well as the deck boy. Amen. After the visit

of the Union man, there was great agreeing among the seaman on board the ship. On the next day, the Bosum said me, after breakfast: "You Charles, go with Attila and help fix ready the lifeboat on the boat deck. I went up to the boat deck and joined Attila, who has uncovered the starboard side lifeboat. The uncovered boat exposed the inside of the boat. There was seat running around the boat and across the boat, as well. The boat was junk. Attila climbed into the boat, "Look nasty. Bloody mess there, he said. " It's the chief mate's business takes care of the lifeboats. If things start goes wrong on aboard the ship " By God, there will be narrow escape then, he also said." This is criminal's carelessness; you know the company is just thinking thinks like they're freighted, the business, profit, and the demur rage, everything else, but the life of some poor seaman. Things never change. We started to fix the boat, making her shape for the sea, the sea clearing as they called it by the ship's usage. We took out gears as the sails from the boat, piled that on the deck. Many interesting things appeared which use I had no idea. The second mate Andrei, came and took a look over the brink into the boat, said, by his odd usage, " It's leaking. You are going. Plung Plung, if you're lower her down. And you too, I was thinking, still said nothing. We talked and tried the slits with tow and tallow. "Is this your first ship, Attila asked when he was straightened his back and had lit a cigarette. I nodded. "Yes." Way you came. I wanted to be a seaman. See the world and the different port in every corner of the world. I said."And the whore in every port to call and all that cheap drinks, he remarked."Many of my friends had gone to the sea when they had reached the age required to sing on a seagoing ship, I said. I know there are plenty of young chaps at sea., Attila said, and threw his half smoked the cigarette over the side, then stood up " Was told, he went on. "That the man goes to the sea when they are not fit living on land. They come here when they are young before they know the unhappiness of life at sea. They had entered into doomed life, condemned wandering and drinking forever, the only friend being another seafarer, the domestic company and the typical style of sea life. There is many so-called first trips man, who has given up on the first trip. They are more or less saved. However, the most part is back at the sea, continue they're wondering, over and over, they return to sea as the habitual offender return to prison. The ship is the goal for seamen, they have any other home, and they sing on the vessel of all sort. Until they died of alcohol or they, go down with their iron cell to the Jones locker." But here you eat regular, and the food is good, and there are the cheap export, duty-free goods as well. Every time I have seen a sailor on land, they showed plenty money, and all that thinks that landsmen not have, I said."Yes. They have money, Yes, for a short period. Attila commented ", But just for a short period. Here, seafarer has an advantage over a shore wage earner in that he is practically forced to save a substantial part of his earning-simply because, there is not an opportunity to spend money at sea, nine months of the years. While the landsman decides to stop at the local bar for a few beers or dance with the girlfriend, meanwhile the seaman in the middle of the ocean inexpensive play card and smokes their duty"free American cigarettes, talking with his shipmates. Saying this Attila ended the discussion and ordered me to put back into the boat the gear we had unloaded from the boat. The fixing of the lifeboat was over.

Chapter 7

One night I had an unexpected experience. I woke with the feeling that somebody was watching me. As I opened my eyes, I saw a man's head beside my upper bunk. The head wore a navy cap, and the face beneath the caps was intoxicated dull and there was the name of a warship to be seen on the band of the cap " H M S HALENFRALD, it read.The eyes under the H M S HALENFRAL stared at me, " I m a homicidal, the ruthless killer, the man grunted. The man stood there swaying slightly and looking at me, It was a tall man with rat chapped head that was no chin and had a prominent Edam apple that jumped up and down, and I saw a military clap- knife in his hand. The trimmer who had before occupied the under bunk has gone ashore, I was alone with this lunatic. The man set up his fist with the knife, by instinctive I cowered away, by leaping down from the bunk and out the cabin I went, I hear the loud laugh of the madman behind me as I fled. and when stopped for awhile at the companionway to be looking backward, I saw the man in his naval uniform striking the knife through the door, he had to get rage and now disgorged his rage to the door by beating the door in a sieve. I heard him howling like a beaten dog. Then there was the tone of Attila, and I hear him saying "What's up man? You sod think you can hang around here, breaking the doors with your knife. You bastards, I'll teach you to fly at people, and with the quick kick in the belly of the lunatic, he flattened the troublemaker at once. I saw how he took the knife from the man's hand. I went up to deck then to the mid"ship I found Junky on his night watch post; he was sitting in the galley accompanied by a blond haired slim stranger who had an open, earnest expression on his face and soft voice. I greeted them by saying that I have seen a great killer in the aft. "Some homicidal."He is the new stoker. We were embarking together, the man said," he got mad, I didn't know why he got mad with a glass of vodka." What's about the uniform."Stolen from the limey warship. We have steamed her to a shipyard to convert her into a passenger ship. He snitched out many sorts of stuff there, like the cap of the chief engineer. Rissa came with her vigorous heel naps on deck. " Who is on the caldron watch down below. She inquired."It's me, the blond Stoker said." Rissa examined the man for a moment. " Are you all right? " Sure, I am, ok." Where's the beast that had been sneaked all over here with his dirty hands. The blond gestured toward aft. " There I guess. In the astern, I think. He is free of duty, you see."Please do not let the lunatic go down into the engine room. Next morning I was sitting in the sailor's mess room among the other seaman when the Donkey man slide into mess room and the nocturnal brawler put his head in the doorway, yelling at the donkey man " How you run, you rat, You want to be the yes"man. Come on. What the mater with you. Didn't ye get your score sack filled yet? You fucking toady. I'll bet yer with the score the at your head! " Take away your bloody face from the doorway. Donkey snapped feeling save among the men in the mess room. The chief engineer came down in the after quarter and found the stoker standing necked in the passageway."You are fired the chief said." I need money. I need the payment for seven days because you will break the contract."You must out from here. You have brawled here all the night, smashed the door and put in disorder the places here. You have pissed up your job even you get to start it, you are guilty yourself to cancel the contract." Don't try to send me away with the wages no paid. the stoker cried. " I'll raise a hell if you try to send away no money. I have the union behind me. "Get dressed, the chief said, " Get dressed and I try to find some payment to you, to get rid of you. this saying the chief turned and went on deck. "Ok go makes your accounting, I'll get to dress, the stoker hailed after the chief. An hour later, I found him crying half dressed in the corridor. " I have got the boot; he moaned. " They kicked me out, Ou, that fucking bastard kicked me out!"

Chapter 8

On board, the Johanson was three deck boys. I was one of them. The Junky was the second, and the third was a young blond fellow called by his nickname; Seed. There are many habits among seamen, and one of those is a nickname, for almost everyone on board. During long period together in the small floating world as the vessels be at sea and in the harbors, when seamen have plenty of time to examine each other, and by the habit of the sea style they had renamed almost everyone on board the ship according to the individual manner be like landsman or speaking like no seaman or an old salt to be called as the hero of seven sea. There were many sorts of nicknames there. The third deck boy was called as Seed. When last of the longshoremen were gone ashore and they have got they cargo bottle to drink for completed the loading and the deck cargo had been properly flashed, the ship didn't call the pilot yet. For there was still the strike on, controlled by the seaman union. All aboard were patiently waiting for the final knowledge of the strike,One day the Bosum call into mess"room. "The strike is finished and the icebreakers are put all out. It took not long after that as the standby was whistled out to the fore and aft, and the pilot, dressed in long gabardine came aboard with his briefcase hanging from his neck. The wire ropes were loosened and the ship was taken out from the quay by the assistance of a very smoking harbor tug. When there was no more the quayside to support her, the vessel took a list to port side under the weight of the high deck cargo. The first watch started, and it lasted from eight to midnight, I spend it with the Hero of Seven Seas who was as the watch mate of mine. It was winter night, and I was watching as the ship was heading along the track in the ice field. There was seen the lights of an icebreaker, ready for assistance." The icebreaker is getting ahead so slow." Maybe we could overtake her; I said to the Bosum standing on the poop." Oh, what the hell you thinks boy. We are moving like lice in tar; the icebreaker could make ten knots easily in the

fast ice."We went out to sea, it was night, and the icy passage ahead being illuminated with the so-called 'suns' which were nothing more but a couple of plates, combined with four electric lamps burning in the center of them. By midnight, the sea was free of ice I was standing on the wing of the bridge, watching ahead as an outlook man seeing nothing but the night. The food was packed in the galley in some container pots, in an aluminum kits, full of food, this all was hung off an aluminum brace, carrying this burden the in my left hand, my right hand was occupied by the steel stray, so loaded I started for aft, stumbling over the deck cargo, which was tilted and the movements of the ship made no easy my way. , we the deck boys, had the job to serve food in the aft mess room, acting now like a Mess man, washing the dishes and clean the cabins of the deck crew. I have learned that the sea folk was very different kind of people by their customs, also in the way, they were attired. The ordinary and able seamen wore dungaree and khaki shirt. They had a nice watch, and they smoked tax fee American cigarettes, board the ship they talked very much about business, which they called export, by that same usage that they called clothes as the 'gears.' The export wasn't anything but the tax"free what the ship candles delivered aboard little before the ship is sailing. Most of the officers and the seamen carried on private trade, which they ventured smuggling that was allowed partly by the master and was so called a definite advantage. As the ship had taken tilt to port side even in the dock, now under her deck cargo, the list increased during the voyage, so that after a week at sea the there was difficulty to got to aft carrying the food, both hands occupied with the cans. There was a red buoy swing in seas with the fog bell tolling. I was watching it as the Chip came over and said."It's the post buoy, the mail buoy, you know. If you have some later to send you must let the skipper know, he can stop the vessel for a while. I was not sure if he was pulling a leg or not. We were approaching the Kiel and I was turned in, I was after an hour turned out again. There was the anchorage, and the forecastle head was occupied with the standby part of the chief mate. I and the Junky came up the forecastle just to hear the chief mate saying to the Bosum, "Tell the boys goes down into the chain locker.""The boys down into the chain locker.! the Bosun yelled. We went to the forecastle; there was access down to the forepeak and the chain lockers, lowered ourselves through a small hatch down below into the chain locker. The port side anchor was out, and there was half a chain left in the port side locker, the chain was rusted and thick of man's thigh, and there was dried mud on the bottom of the locker."Stand by there below! A voice cried through the chine pipe, and the windlass started operating on the forecastle head, heaving the chain up and lowering it down into the locker. We used the hooks, and pulled the lowering chain from side to side in the locker, trimming and coiling it all along; the chain turned thirty with the mud of the seabed, and we soon were covered with the bad smelling mud. The chain was heavy, and we sweat more heavily until the command came through the chain pipe. The Boys there down, did you hear? Get off from the locker!There was no one showing any sympathy for our outlooks, among the men standing on the forecastle head as we emerged from the locker and joined the part on the forecastle head. With the pilot aboard we took the first lock of the floodgate. I was astonished the change of the climate, as the winter and the ice had hampered us in many differed ways just a couple a week ago, there was now a green land in sight, and the air was mild, and I could feel a trace of the spring there, and I could see people going by bicycles and walking along the road on the riverside, there were low-roofed huts and houses and I saw green reed on those roofs. And oncoming large ships flying their strange flags, also some rusted hulk like the vessel, which the Bosun called, "Deagoes boats."Then there was the river Elbe and its estuary with the incoming and outgoing traffic. Between the low banks, and between the two estuaries of the two rivers, in the offing, nearby the shipping routes, half submerged wrecks were looming out from the mist. And there were green light buoys indicating they places and the waves around them like lead. I was watching this cold environment and this on colorless seascape around emanated raw moisture of the muddling river and the rising sea, tidal stream was running out and large, pale, flat and empty coastal region with muddy beach was seen to northward and south, I saw flat beach continue as far as eyes could reach and the pale foreground and in the distance green undulated shore.Chapter 9I was off and was lying on my back in the upper bunk, listening to the to the noise of the steering gear from the poop deck above my head. The ship was pitching, the stern tossing up and down with noise of the turn of the propeller under, I could feel the increasing vibration as the stern was falling and each time when it dove there was huge bang as the flat countered stern hit the water. It sounded like we were running into a gale. I dropped down on the floor and went up on the deck. The sea looked Grey, and the air was mild, and there was mist upon the water, a large tanker loomed out, and the waves had white caps as they hurried past. The wind was howling. I saw the Bosun and the Chip, rigging up the extra tackle for the rudder to be easy the press of the increasing waves. They wore their wet oilskins, and there was water everywhere. An hour more and the logline showed right down, and as the Chip tried to haul it up there was a sharp jerk on the line, it was evident that the line was jammed in the propeller. By evening, the gale was blowing harder, and the wind cried with surf of water. The wind and lying splashing bet my eyes as I carried the pots from galley to the poop house. The first night the ship ran dry, but in the next night a huge wave was breaking down the companion, and there was ankle deep water The water turned dirty, surfing on the floor and the radiators heated the dirty water up forming a bat smelling vapor into the interior air, it was a terrible smell, and if you have the slightest tendency to seasick you have come very right place to be suffering it. Been finishing the dish I had a bucket full of dirty water. I stood by the outer door of the poop house waiting the right moment when the tern started her rising and the deck clear of breaking waves. The new trimmer was a tramp called Cure, he was doing his job aboard, and he was coming from the stoker's mess room carrying his dirty water bucket with him, on seeing me lurking before the iron door, he asked if I d aren't you go out to the deck." What are you waiting for"? He put his head close the porthole and looked out to the poop deck through the porthole and sighted. " Oh, the hell. What a sight. The ship had lots, even more, her transverse stability and was taken a port side list and no returned upright anymore. Every time as the stern fell and divided into the water there was a thump, I could find solid green water behind the portholes of my cabin. The sea was mountainous, and there was white spray as snowfall above the huge waves and on the surface of those waves were seen white veins as if on the skin of some living monster. And monster they were, they rolled in the night and lighted the sea and the ship whit an eerie light as they hit the ship, there was nothing to be seen or hear but the white flashing and the noise of the crying wind and the tumble of water." You think the lashes hold, Rissa asked me as I was stumbled into the galley."They didn't tell me, I said. The seamen were turned less talkative, and the stoker toiled for their life."We must blow the tubes, Donkey man said at the supper, every one of us knew what it means, the steam will reduce in the boilers and the ship will be drift with the wind and the waves. I sound not good, and the ship's company knew that there would be the collapse of the deck cargo. At night, there was seen the weird phosphorus shine of the water illuminating the roaring sea around the ship. The lashing held and when the third morning dawned the sun came out, and there were moderating wind and seas.

Chapter 10

The door of the chief mate's cabin stood ajar, and a chink of light cut out of it crossing the darkened boat deck. There were peace and relief aboard after the stormy voyage and ship were berthed alongside the quay. A queue of men was standing and waiting on the boat deck near the door of the chief made cabins. Someone went in, and some joined the queue. The agent has brought money aboard, and the chief mate doled out the advance. When I stepped in, the chief mate lifted his head and said. " Oho-You boy mustn't go ashore so late the in the light. Someone must look after you, or you will lose you money for the whores, it's no good for your young age and your small salary. How much you have asked. Twenty golden.? You haven't so much but, I will give it as an advance, this saying, the chief mate pointed me the list on the table. Put your name down there" he said and took two bank notes from the table and gave that funny money to me. There was cheerful ambiance in the after quarter, the doors of the cabin were all wide open and the men were running from cabin to cabin and the steam room on the poop deck was heated hot like a sauna for the bath.
Chapter 11The music played, and many cabin's flasks were uncorked, and everybody had something to say or hailing. Are you going to ashore to Texel bar?" Just a couple of beer. There must be something else near at hand.

Chapter 12

I was walking along the dimly lighted street accompanied by Kurre, the

new trimmer. I wasn't drunk, but there was something wrong with my legs and my head too, for I couldn't make straight and steady."I' m sick? I cannot walk right, and all goes round in my head, I said to the trimmer."No, You Jus have the sea legs, Nothing serious. You will be all right tomorrow.""Are you sure,""Yes. I am. It will happen to everyone after the first storm.There were windows, and girls and women were sitting in those windows like some dummy placed in the shop windows of the ladies clothing. We entered a bar. It was nearly empty we ordered an unmarried woman at a table pointing us to join. We sat with the lady and ordered a drink, which the trimmer paid "Costly drink, you see, they will milk us at once. We will not stay here any longer, Shift the place," Trimmer said and wiped up his class then stood up. " Let's go. I rose too, and went out of the bar and crossed the street and came into another bar next to the first." You ought to drink the Gin and lime with it; it's cheap and strong enough. Trimmer said. When we entered I saw Seven Seas and t Penacook sitting at a table, I saw the Cook dancing on the floor with a girl that had a large hat. Penacook came over and asked to have a drink; He was drunk, and he did not notice the drink he carried in his hand. He stared at me and took hold of my jacket. " I want to fight, he said. I sat down, and he tried to pull me up. " I don't want fight.i said trying to sit down again. " No, you must, Penacook argued. " Let's go out to fight."No trouble here. No Boxing said the woman at the table. " Shut up you spotty faced, Penacook said to the woman. He wanted me out, I rose and moved towards the door then turned and hit him twice at face right away before the door. He fell sideways on the floor; there were plenty of hailing and tumult, but I couldn't help but see the amazement expression on his face as he fell."Take it, easy boys, the Trimmer scouted. Penacook stood up on his feet and holding a hand over his eye, was escorted by a blond haired girl, back to the table."The guy was tougher than I guess, I could hear him saying.. " No more boxing said the women." It was your fault become beaten, the able seaman Seven Seas said, and there was no more trouble after that, and it was forgotten matter and us.

Chapter 13

In the next morning at the breakfast table in the deck house. Attila glanced at the bloated face of the Penacook and said. You mustn't judge a man's fighting ability by his appearance. Did you learn something of that? Never does it again."I' m not any street brawler. That's the point; Penacook said and after that, he said no a word during the breakfast. I had my right hand's knuckles sore, and I tried covering it from the eyes keeping it on the edge of the table. A weak shot by and there was rare aboard who still had the money go ashore, I was delighted by getting informed that I will have cigarettes and six bottles London Gin from the steward's store and all that by credit. The bottles I got were labeled with of wolf head and two men, they looked very smuggling We sailed in good weather and even there was little of welling out there in the North Sea, there wasn't so much wind either, the skies and the sea under were dark. When I was standing at the outlook duty on the port wing of the bridge, I could see the dim outline of the foredeck bulwark and hear as the bow wave flashed with the white surf traversing past the ship's side. The outlook is a unique task standing the in the night looking forward seeing anything but the darkness ahead and feeling the wind howling in your ears. After six o'clock, there is too dark to see the hand of the wristwatch, and you wait the moment when the mate opened the sliding door of the wheelhouse to be declared the time to smoke a cigaret down below being that allowed you go down to smoke. We were laying somewhere I do not know where it must have been in the vicinity of the estuary of the Elbe River, the frosty fog had blanked the sea around; it was calm and the water smooth and black around the ship. I was on the forecastle head tolling the fog bell and doing my time as anchor watch, listening to the footsteps of tJunky on deck as he was coming to take over when there was another noise, coming out from the fog, it sounded like a rush of a bow wave of an unseen vessel, and less than a minute a huge ship bows appeared and by instinctively I registered those rusted streaks, running down of her grey painted hull.I started to run backward and was hump into Junky that stood there on the deck his mouth open watching as a ghostly ship's side was traveling past. It struck somewhere on the forepart, and there was a great deal sound like shaking and crashing, I caught a glimpse of a man standing by her rail, and could see the name with white letters on her bow as the black and lofty side of vessel traveled past. Lopez, it read, evidently she was a Dutch ship. There was hail in the fog and then the sound of roaring as the anchor of the unseen vessel was falling into the water, the captain rushed out of his cabin, and I heard a voice saying, " Damn, why don't hit on amidships, and sunk this hulk. That will mean a long time in dry dock. The chief mate came out and accompanied by the Bosun to be inspected the damage. The hit was on the port side of the bow, and there was ragged hole above the waterline. We were ordered to a dry dock in the Stockholm, that info came via the galley as all knowledge comes to the ears of the crew." To Stockholm said the donkey man, "it's good, very good for business. Riding high of water we managed to get to Stockholm without assistance. It was a dark evening of a winter day when we saw an illumined patch in the sky, it was the reflex of the lights of the big city, and in the next morning, we shifted the ship into drydock.Been settled down on the bottom of the dry dock the repair carried out, the routine aboard continued with not variations. The repairs took two weeks in the dry dock that made a noise like a machine gun, a, ta, it sounded night and day. One day Rissa gestured me come over, she was standing on the deck near the galley."Would you give a hand to the donkey man tonight?"For what I asked?"Will sees then."Yes why not, I said." I will let you know when the when there will be the time. Rissa said and continued her way toward the saloon. Nex night came I was helping the donkey man carrying large boxes from the engine room to shore loading the sacks on a lorry standing by the landing stage. There were lighter sacks and more heavy box, all them for lucrative smuggling. I was doing seven months sea time on her, and at the end of the next August, I leave her. The out payment wasn't very much, but it was enough for a bed for two weeks in the sailor home in Turku, in Finland.
Chapter 14
A man was lolling in the park near the quayside. He was an elderly beached sailor and was called by his nickname Frisco. He was a drunkard and totally ruined by alcohol; he told been on the west coast of American and been sailing out of America bound for the Far East. A young man mustn't waste his time here; he said to me, Go to the West, and sign aboard the other ship like Yankee ship, get certain payment and "backs turnI dropped in the office of the seamen employment, which the sailors called as Verna's mill, Verna was a black-haired woman who kept the 'mill' and was sharing the jobs in this office. Every day there was taken place the regular occasions of info by shouting out that black haired Verna, reading from the shipping list of the open vacancies. By ten o'clock, there always were gangs of men to listen to the names of those ships, which were shouted out and which were short-handed and were needed sailors of any short, and indeed, sailors of any sort there were on offer. The room was crowded with fellows, cursing swearing and shouting during the few minutes as the woman was reading the shipping list. The names of the ships were weighed among the men present, and there was an injury in the air; whether the ship in question was a heavy canoe with on her deck work, or whether there was allowing the smuggling business or not."That's bloody wreck; poor fellow yelled out. " Oh no, I know that canoe, Cannas, old one. Of course, she is short of hands. It's the last chance when you have anything else. No venture of any kind, no business aboard, you can have just the four flasks a month, no more. She belongs to the company of the owner skippers, last herring, and potato, they call them, Nothing to eat and plenty to do. No good, No thank you. The situation didn't leave very much to elect, and the next day when there was again the same empty play in progress, the woman standing in the middle the room with the list in her hand and when she uttered out a ship name that required a deck boy, I stepped ahead."I will take it, I declared."All your paper in good condition? I nodded."Come to my office when this is over. I went to the office the woman gave me an address of an agent. " Go over to the union office to make sure you've paid your due, they there will give you the green card for sign""I have paid up for six months; I already have the green card. I said."Well the ship Triton is loading her cargo in Hamina, You must take a bus and travel by it to East You come then in Hamina, there you can seek up the agent in that address I gave you. The agent then can help you find the ship. Early morning I set off, traveling all day I by evening arrived in Hamina. That was a small town with its circle streets. The office of the agent was easy to find for there weren't many offices there, a sign on a door opposite the bus station indicated the door belonging to the office of; Ships' Macular Rogers &Co.Upon entering this two room's office, I found a female, tapping a typewriter behind an old-fashioned Bureau and as she saw me coming in, she stopped her work and gave a

hard look at me. Se was staring at me as though she was to going to say,-what brought your here boy? Whatever it is, you have entered now wrong place, but as you're already standing there, What I can do for you?I say that I am looking for the agent to get to the ship named Triton. The woman still stared at me asked." Are you a seaman"."Yes. I m, the deck boy, have been ordered here."The agent is not at present. Please take a sit and wait; the agent will be here any minute. I sat down; it was more than quarter an hour as the door opened and a stout middle-aged ma, dressed in Grey suit, entered the office. On seeing me sitting his eyebrow rose a bit, he asked " And this man. A styyrman', I supposed."I am the deck boy sent to the ship named Triton I said. Ah, I see, the deck boy to the ship Triton, the man said and sat behind the other bureau in the room. The agent took out some paper. I was watching a large oil painting hanging on the opposite wall, there was a steamer in this picture, laboring her way through a very rough sea, the ship was smoking a lot and seem to make no headway at all, and the wind was tearing and driving her smoke long away, toward the hazy horizon."Well, I supposed you have all the documents whatever you need, so You can travel to ship right away, The ship is loading in a small inlet off the coast no more than ten kilometers from here Klamella is than a place, there is a sawmill, and you will find the ship there. I took a taxi and gave the address to the driver, and the car got underway. The evening was getting dark as we reached the wooden water edge of that inlet; there was scarcely light still I could see the wooden building of the sawmill and the long wooden wharf with all those barges tied alongside the wharf. Out on the reach of this inlet was lying a ship, the anchor light was seen hanging at the fore stake, and the after deck and the amidships was lighted. I asked the drive try to which off and on the headlights to be signally over the water and to make them know on board the ship my arrival. After a while the driver said he has to go, he started his motor and disappeared. I was hungry, and I had the last cigarette in hand, the night was growing cold through the air were still and the water smooth. I sat down on a wood stack and prepared for a long wait. After half an hour, a rowing boat was seen, coming from the ship. I saw the boat emerging from the dimness of the inlet and heard the oars slapping." Oho y, I shouted, and a single birth rose somewhere on its wings and set off flapping lazily over the water edge. The boat drew nearer, and I could see a boy pulling it. When the bows of boat touched the wharf I leaped down into the boat; the boat was small like a dory, and the boy turned it around with a slight movement.""You are watchman aren't you? I asked."Yes I am, and the boatman as well, when we are riding." Where bound."" For London." Oh." What about the ship, have you made long on her? I asked." Just a trip. The ship is all right, the chief mate. You will get to see then."He pulled the boat toward the ship anchored in the inlet. A shadowy shape of the vessel showed up again the evening sky. Its silhouette was black and lofty. The gangway was lowered down near to the water, I climbed and found nobody on deck, but a solitary lamp was burning on the break of the boat deck. The ship was quiet, amidships and no poop. There was not a soul in the mess room; I made aft, and down by the company way. At the foot of the company way I jump into a man who was standing in the passage and was speaking through the doorway into a cabin, the other party of this discussion was unseen and might be lying on his bunk in the cabin. I asked to get known the birth belonging to the new deck boy. The man in the doorway stopped his talking and gave a glance at me over his shoulder." For a moment, he looked at me, then raising his left hand and said, " Over there. Over there was a two"bunked cabin in which had already an occupant, actively build and red-bearded an able body seaman. I took the upper bunk that was provided with a reading lamp and single red curtain, and underneath the bunks, near the floor, there were two drawers. The table was fixed onto bulkhead, and there were two wardrobes. I settled on the upper bunk; no one seemed taken much notice to my embarked. There were men moving in and out of this Kennel, between the cabins they went and came, saying a word or two on other, but still, there wasn't very talk activity. However the sea is everywhere the same, the ships are similar, the work is similar everywhere aboard the ships, still the shipping company remains leery about an outsider as the shore people, even the newcomer who could be sailor but not well-known sailor, the rank must be at least as height as the Bosun, the Carpenter or an old able seaman like an old stage, to be accepted right away into a ship's company, all other newcomers will be regard as greenhorns. I woke early the next morning and got out for my buck and me when looked at my wrist it showed quart to six. The able seaman Was sleeping behind the red bunk curtain; I got careful dressed trying making, not a noise I went on deck. The shipboard was quiet except an occasional clink from the deck and some rope lapping against a mast. It was still dark, and there was a light breeze. I registered increasing of activities on the shore side; I knew that the longshoremen were soon coming with their barges. I found the lower, the night watch coming out of the galley, he was carrying a bucket full of ash, " I am late, he said as he hurried past me towards the starboard rail, where he halted for a moment, putting his hand out he was feeling which way the wind was blowing, then emptied the bucket over the side into the sea, there was a light cloud of white ash that went with the wind."Jevalare Satan, the boy swearing in his Swede. " I am late; he said as he hurried back to the galley." Dam, the cook, get mad. I was sitting by myself in the empty mess room when a strange individual appeared in the doorway, a short old man with a fur hat on his head. The man wore a sheep shepherd clothes; he has a vest made of sheep's wool, and he had galosh on his feet. The man lifted his other foot on the threshold of the door and was resting his body on the up hoisted knee, and he had a dog face and was looking at me whit his small watery eyes."Jaa , hah, ha. the man began. "And you. Who damn be you?I told being the new deck boy the ship was asked to have. Ah, ha.

Chapter 15

When you are not more than eighteen, then all human beings more than thirty years old looks pretty old for you and you will call them as old chaps, who are nothing but worn by the years, so they looked to me. Mr. Lind as well the Chief mate of the Triton, yet not so old as the second mate, the sheepskin who I met in the doorway of the mess room the morning. The chief mate was dry a lean man with very earnest expression, he had watery gray eyes, and there was colorless fish like fixed stare in it, and I ever saw any hint of a smile playing on those faces. This mate was aged, but how aged; it was difficult to say for sure because the age of an old salt is dark. This man could have been well over fifty fifes or even sixty, but there was the expression on his face, and in the upright body of this old man, that made him ageless. The mate wore weather worn peak cap and black duffel coat, which all in black gave him very nautical outlook. The chief mate glanced at my seaman's book and said, " So you have serviced as mess room boy, aren't yours. So, get the deck cleared", this saying he turned his back and started toward the boat"deck. I was deeply hurt to be called as a mess room boy for I have served six months as a deck boy on my previous ship and I was not anymore as a greenhorn. I was sore and felt like an outsider during the first week on board the ship at anchor where the loading took place. I was eager to show that I can perform the job on deck, and can know the difference between the windlass and the winch at the foot of the masts, and what were the halyards and the guy. All that a didn't help me to make a friend to the other hands on board the ship

Chapter 16

The mess room was in the amidships and there was no need to-carry the meals to aft. Sven was a deck boy, islanders, the son of a farmer, dark and introvert and he was the same who pulled me with the boat to ship and who had his turn to be a night watchman, so he was sleeping in the daytime to be wakeful in the night. One of the two ordinary seamen was a tall, fat young man and he liked a drink and talked where it ever was possible. He boasted to be a fighter and ready to take a match with anyone. He was called as Money man for, when sober, he had custom sit at the small table in his cabin and spent his off time by counting the multitude changes he has collected from every country he has been visited. I soon realized that despite wanting to a be bit of fighter he seemed afraid quite much the chief mate, who whenever this fighter pissed up-kicked him up like a dog an in way, very cruel and ruthless. My roommate, or rather a cabin mate, the red-bearded able seaman wanted to be the second mate, and he said that he will sign next autumn on the nautical college and to be earning a certificate. Every morning the ship lying at the port, or at anchor, the regular working time began half past seven and the second mate turned to the hands. The old mate was called as sheepish and was very rudely treated by the chief mate, and was taken by the hands as sheepskin. This old timer wearing his sheepskin and galoshes appeared every morning in good time before half-past seven, walking to and fro past the mess room's door was waiting for the men in the mess room got finished their breakfast." What's the matter with the Sheepish. Why in hell is he so-restless? I asked of the money man." Don't

you know? Well, I can tell you, the Sheepish is strengthening himself to turn us. Just wait a moment and he will be in the doorway, and as he was saying this, the old mate appeared in the doorway."To the Morning boys," the friend said with an awkward tone, and grunted "Fine morning, aren't it. Hopefully, we get underway before midnight. Yah ha, is the time to work. Then the mate looked at me and said: This new lad looked out strong enough to carry the coilers of tarpaulins what was let out of the hatches cover, to under the forecastle head. The second mate pranced with us all the day as we made the ship-sea shape by flashing the deck cargo with heavy chains and secured it with wires. We were lowering the booms of the derricks as the peak-capped head of the chief mate peeped over the edge of the windbreaker of the bridge and voice cried out: " Hallo below there on deck! Do it properly. There is sea running out there."" Bloody ss fascist, can't he trust us, the red beard muttered as he was hauling a wire over the deck cargo. We prepared to sail in the night, and before eleven o'clock when the rain was falling with the darkness the last barges disappeared intorain on their way to shore and the cargo bottles were given to the longshoremen before they go down to their boats waiting at the lower end of the gangway. I saw an older man in gray suit, standing in the outer alleyway discussing with the chief mate; it was the captain, and I heard himsaying:" Put a frisk boy in boat and order him to cast off the mooring fromthe buoy there."The sheepish came over and said:" Your who are so strong man, go down the boat and get a loose mooring from the buoy.""No problem, I said."I got with the Moneyman to the motorboat operating by a short man, and the boat was driven to the buoy that was tilted under the press of the mooring wire. I easy leaped on the buoy and with no problem unshackled the mooring.The buoy jumped up like a cork and tossed me off into emptiness; I fall and felt the seawater cold as ice. I went under, and with aflashing thought, I remembered that I couldn't swim a stroke. When I managed got my head on the surface I could see the deck light of the stern of the ship shining far away, obscured by the rain and the waves that were breaking over my head. I heard a voice crying. " Hold on. Over here, take my hand! It was the Money man who was bending over the edge of the boat reached his hand far down trying to get hold of me. I was hauled into the boat, and I heard the boatman asking. Are you all right?The chief mate and the sheepish were standing on the deck near the upper stage of the gangway as I was climbing wet to skin after my prolonged immersion, the sheepish glanced at me and said:" What the matter with you?""Nothing. It does not matter," I said." Can't they do anything without falling into the sea," the chief mate snapped. After this, an event I was well accepted by the other. After the pilot was boarding, we weighed the anchor and with the steam shining we steamed out. Once in the open, we headed in the western direction. I had my turn at the wheel in the open wheelhouse, there weren't too many apertures for the navigation, jut the compass and the radio-bearing aperture in the navigation cabin behind the wheelhouse, and the eyes of the lookout man. The second mate hovered in the bridge going nervously out and in between the wing of the bridge and the wheelhouse trying evidently gets something in sight outside the ship.Next day was Tuesday at sea. It was raining, and the wind was blowing from the west. I was standing on the after deck and watching