CHAPTER TWENTY.
TRAWLING OFF THE NAB.
The same evening, while they were all on the pier, listening to theband, and chatting pleasantly together in the pauses between the music,Mrs Gilmour turned the conversation upon a matter of extreme interestto Master Bob, and one concerning which he had been in much doubt ofmind for some time past; although his native diffidence had preventedhim from personally broaching the subject in his own right.
Sitting there within hail of the sea, the soft arpeggio of whose faintripple on the shore seemed to harmonise with the louder instrumentationof the orchestra, which was just then playing a selection from Weber's"Oberon," the talk naturally drifted into a nautical channel; the oldsailor dilating, to the delight of his listeners, on the charms of alife afloat and the divine beauty of the ocean, whether in storm or atrest.
"Aye, there's no life like it," said he. "A life on the ocean wave!"
"It sounds nice in poetry," observed the Irish barrister, who althoughfull of sentiment, like most of his countrymen, always tried to hide itunder a mask of comedy. "But, I think it must be a very up and downsort of existence. Too uncertain for me, at all events!"
"Oh, Dugald!" remonstrated his wife. "Why, this morning you wererhapsodising over the sea, and wishing you were able to spend your brieflife afloat."
"My brief life, indeed!" exclaimed Mr Strong. "It's precious fewbriefs I get, or it would be more pleasant. I wish more of 'em wouldcome in, my dear, to pay for those children's shoes. They've worn outhalf-a-dozen pairs apiece, I believe, since they've been down here!"
"Better a shoemaker's bill," said Mrs Gilmour, "than a doctor's, sure,me dear Dugald."
"Aye, by Jove!" put in the Captain with a chuckle. "There's nothinglike leather, you know."
"By the way, talking of that, though I don't mean to say it's made likethe old Britons' coracles," observed Mrs Gilmour silly, "when is thatyacht of yours going to be ready, Captain?"
This unexpected inquiry made the old sailor blush a rosy red, for hisface was turned westwards towards the setting sun, and all could see itplainly; albeit, he tried to conceal his perturbation by drawing out hisbrilliant bandana handkerchief and blowing his nose vigorously--an oldtrick of his.
"I--I--I'm having her done up," he at length stammered out. "She wanteda lot of repair."
"So I should think," rejoined his persecutor, turning round to theothers. "You must know, good people, that I've been hearing of nothingbut this yacht for the last two years; and, would you believe it, I'venever seen her yet!"
"I assure you--," began the Captain; but, alas! his enemy, in additionto being a host in herself, had allies of whom he little dreamt; and sohe was interrupted ere he could get at a second stammering "I assureyou!"
"Why, you promised, Captain," said Nell mischievously, "the very firsttime we saw you in the train, to take us out for a `sail in your yacht';and I have been longing so much for it ever since. We thought that waswhat you meant when you said you were going to take us somewhere or dosomething that `to-morrow come never' as you called it!"
"You wicked man, to deceive the poor children so!" cried
Mrs Gilmour, shaking her finger at him. "Oh, you bad man!"
But, before he could answer a word, Bob, who had been waiting anxiouslyfor an opening, likewise assailed him.
"Ah! Don't you remember, Captain, that day when you took Dick down tothe Dockyard to get him entered as a sailor boy on board the _SaintVincent_, and they wouldn't take him because he was too thin, you saidit didn't matter, for you would employ him on board your yacht when theracing season began? Why, Dick and I have been looking out for a sailever since. Don't you remember?"
"Now, aren't you ashamed of yourself, sure?" said Mrs Gilmour,following up Bob's flank attack; his father and mother enjoying thediscussion immensely, coupled as it was with the old sailor's comicalembarrassment. "Tell me, now, aren't you ashamed of yourself?"
Taking off his hat and shoving his hands through his hair until heraised it up on the top of his head in a high ridge, he looked at histormentors appealingly; although, the merry twinkle in his bird-likeeyes took off somewhat from his contrition.
"Do forgive me!" implored he in accents that had a very suspiciouschuckle about them. "I confess my sins!"
"You must clear yourself completely, sir, before you can hope to obtainabsolution for your sins of omission," insisted Mrs Gilmour, pretendingto be very stern indeed. "Now, prisoner at the bar, answer truly, haveyou or have you not got a yacht?"
"I have," he replied solemnly, entering into her humour. "By Jove, Ihave, ma'am!"
"Well, I'm glad to hear that at all events," retorted his questioner inrather an injudicial way. "Sure, I didn't think you had one at all, nothaving seen it after all your talking about it. What sort of a yacht isit, now?"
"Only a half-decked little cutter of about two or three tons," answeredthe Captain abjectly, trying to minimise his offence. "A very littleone, ma'am, I assure you."
Mrs Gilmour burst into a fit of laughter, in which they all joinedheartily; the barrister's jovial roar being heard above the music of theband.
"Ah, no wonder you didn't like my seeing it!" she cried with pleasantirony, which, however, made the old sailor wince, this "yacht" of hisbeing a subject on which he was wont to enlarge amongst his friends."Why, from what you said, I thought she was a big schooner like the onethat took the cup at Cowes last year when we all went over with thosehorrid Tomkinses to see the regatta! Call that a yacht, a boat of sucha size? I call it a cockleshell!"
This nettled the Captain very considerably, it must be confessed.
"Well, ma'am, you may call it what you please," he replied shortly, withsome little heat, putting on his hat again and jamming it down on hishead firmly, using a good deal of force as if expending in that way hislatent caloric. "But, cockleshell or no cockleshell, she's big enoughfor me!"
"But, Captain dear, isn't there room enough for me, too?" asked Nellcoaxingly, seeing that he was vexed, and sliding her little hand intohis, as if to show that she at all events was not joining in the funagainst him. "Won't you take Bob and me?"
Her touch somehow or, other banished his pettishness, enabling him tosee that Mrs Gilmour was only joking, and that he had but played intoher hands, as he said to himself, by losing his temper over it.
"I tell you what," he now exclaimed, without a single trace of ill-humour. "You shall see that I'm not ashamed of my little craft, forI'll have the _Zephyr_ brought over from Gosport to-morrow. What ismore, too, the whole lot of you shall go out for a sail in her--byJove!"
The Captain was as good as his word, the yacht being towed across thefollowing afternoon from Haslar Creek, where she had been lying, eversince the last yachting season, on the mud flats that there exist.
The little craft, which was a dapper cutter with an oyster-knife sort ofbow and a clean run aft, as if she could race well when heeling over andshow a good deal of her copper sheathing, did not exceed the tonnagementioned by the Captain.
But, in spite of her smallness of size, she appeared to have the makingof a good sea boat in her, and gained many admirers amongst the Southseawatermen as they surveyed her at her new moorings; the little craftbeing anchored off the coastguard-station and placed now under thecharge of Hellyer, when the Captain was not immediately looking afterher himself.
Mrs Gilmour, however, remained obdurate; for, though satisfied now thatthe "yacht" really was an actual fact instead of merely a creation ofher old friend's fancy, being somewhat averse to adventuring her life onthe deep save in large vessels, and even of these she confessed feelingrather shy since the wreck of the _Bembridge Belle_, she, veryaggravatingly, declined going out in the cutter--a want of taste on herpart shared by her sister-in-law, whose weak nerves supplied a morereasonable pretext for not accepting the Captain's usual invitation tomake the little vessel's better acquaintance.
Bob's father, however, exhibited no such reluctance; and, as for Bobhim
self, he and Nellie and Dick were all in the seventh heaven ofdelight when, a morning or two afterwards, there being a nice nor'-westerly breeze blowing, which was good both for working out to sea andrunning home again, the Captain took them for a sail, managing single-handed the smart cutter as only a sailor, such as he was, could.
Thenceforward, Bob's holidays were all halcyon days.
He had certainly enjoyed himself before; in his rambles on the beach, inhis daily dip and new experiences of the delights of swimming; in thevarious little trips he and Nellie had taken; aye, and in thepleasurable occupation of collecting all those strange wonders of theshore, with which they had been so recently made familiar.
But, never had he enjoyed himself to the extent he did now!
There was nothing, on his once having tasted the joy of sailing, thatcould compare with it for a moment in his mind; and, if his own tasteshad been consulted, he would have been content to have spent morning,noon, and night on board the _Zephyr_.
It was the same with Dick; and, under the Captain's able tuition, boththe boys soon acquired sufficient knowledge of tacking and wearing,sailing close-hauled and going free with the helm amidships, besidesother nice points of seamanship, as to be able almost to handle thecutter as well as their instructor.
Nellie, naturally, could not enter so fully into these details as Boband Dick; but, still, she took quite as much pleasure as they did inskimming over the undulating surface of the water and hearing thegurgling ripple made by the boat's keel.
She felt a little alarm sometimes, perhaps, when, with her mainsailsharply braced up, the _Zephyr_ would heel over to leeward, burying hergunwale in the foam ploughed up by her keen-edged bow, as it raced past,boiling and eddying, astern.
On one occasion the Captain took them out trawling between the Nab andWarner light-ships; where a bank of sand stretches out to sea, formingthe favourite fishing-ground of the Portsmouth watermen hailing fromPoint and the Camber at the mouth of the harbour.
"What is trawling?" asked Master Bob, of course, when the matter wasmooted by the owner of the cutter.
"What is trawling, eh?" repeated the old sailor, humming and cogitatingfor a minute or so. "Let me see; ah, yes, you let down a trawl andcatch your fish in it, instead of using a line or drag-net."
"Sure, Captain," cried Mrs Gilmour, laughing at this, "that's as goodas your definition of steam the other day! You'll have Bob asking younow what is a trawl, the same as I've got to do; please tell us, won'tyou?"
"Sure and I will," returned he, imitating her accent and making herbrother and herself laugh, Mrs Strong only smiling faintly, as she hada marked dislike to any allusion to the Irish brogue. "The trawl,ma'am, is a very simple contrivance when it is understood; and, by yourleave, I'll try and make it plain to you. It consists of an ordinarynet, like a seine, which you've seen, of course?"
"Yes," replied his questioner, "I have seen them dragging the seine, asit is called, down on the beach often."
"Oh, auntie, Nell and I saw them, too, the day after that storm we hadwhen we first came," said Bob eagerly. "I know, because I asked the menwhat they were doing, and they told me."
"There's nothing like asking for information," observed the Captainapprovingly. "It's lucky, though, those men told you at once, or you'dhave worried their lives out!"
"Sure and you may well say that," put in Mrs Gilmour. "You have tosuffer frequently from some little people's thirst for knowledge."
"I don't mind," chuckled the Captain, beaming with good-humour. "But,to go on with my description of the trawl. You must imagine, as I havesaid, an ordinary seine net, which must be a small one, and that loopedup at the corners, too, somewhat in the shape of a funnel, or rather inthe form of a cone sliced in two. The mouth of this apparatus is keptopen on its flat side by means of a pole some ten or twelve feet long,termed the `trawl-beam,' which floats uppermost when the net is down;while the lower side is weighted with a thick heavy piece of hawserstyled the `ground-rope,' around which the meshes of the net are woven.A bridle or `martingale' unites the two ends of the trawl-beam."
"Yes, I see," said Bob, who was all attention, and taking the greatestinterest in the Captain's explanation. "I see."
"Well," continued the old sailor, "to this bridle there is attached adouble-sheaved block, through which runs a hundred-and-fifty fathomrope, capable of bearing a heavy strain. But, in hauling this in, greatnicety must be observed, for, the slightest hitch or deflection willcause the beam to turn the wrong way; when, if the net `gets on herback,' as the fisher-folk say, all your catch is simply turned out into`the vasty deep,' and your toil results in a case of `Love's labourlost!'"
"But, what do you do with the net and beam, when it's all ready?" askedBob. "You haven't told us that, yet."
"Why, drop it over the side as soon as you get out to the fishing-ground," replied the Captain laconically; "and now, I hope, youunderstand all about it?"
"Oh yes," responded his listeners with alacrity; all, that is, but MrsGilmour, who assented somewhat dubiously, as if she could not quitegrasp the idea, requiring the whole thing to be explained to her overagain, when she declared herself still "all in a fog!"
Her brother, however, the barrister, comprehended it at once.
"I should think it was great fun," he observed; "so I would like to comewith you."
"Do," said the Captain, with much heartiness. "You'll be amply repaidfor the trouble. It is intensely exciting waiting and watching for whatthe trawl will bring up. It's just like dipping your hands in the`lucky bag,' Miss Nellie, at Christmas-time."
"Do you ever find any very curious things, Captain?" she inquired onbeing thus appealed to. "I mean really curious things!"
"Oh yes, my dear," replied the old sailor. "I was once out trawlingwith a fisherman off Saint Helens, when we dragged up a donkey-cart!"
"O-oh!" exclaimed Nellie, opening her blue eyes wide with wonder. "Didyou catch the donkey as well?"
"Well, no," answered the Captain, smiling at her amazement, her eyesbeing so big and her face such a study. "The poor man's donkey, missy,had been eaten by the crabs, but the cart was there, shafts, wheels, andall; and, a nice mess the lot made of the trawl-net, tearing it all topieces!"
"That clenches it then. I'll come with you by all means!" cried MrDugald Strong, a pleased smile creeping over his face as he rubbed hishands with expectant glee. "If you find such strange fish as that, itmust be worth going out."
"All right, I shall be glad of your company," replied the Captain;"only, mind, you'll have to work your passage, and help hauling in thetrawl."
"I agree to that," said the other; and, the matter being thus settled,it was arranged that they should proceed the following day on theirexpedition, if the weather were favourable and nothing occurred to altertheir plans. Nellie was specially granted permission to accompany theparty, much against the wish of her mother, who declared that she wouldspoil all her things to a certainty; saying besides, that, from what shehad gathered of the conversation, she did not believe trawling was avery ladylike pursuit, "for little girls, at all events."
However, all the same, Miss Nellie was up betimes the next morning, andsallied out with Bob and his father, whose pet she was, just as theearly milkman was coming his rounds; the trio getting down to the beachpunctually at seven o'clock, the hour fixed by the Captain for theirstart.
Here they found the old sailor and Dick, ready and waiting for them;when, going off in the little dinghy belonging to the _Zephyr_, althoughthe boat had to make a couple of passages to and fro, being only capableof accommodating two passengers besides proud Dick the sculler, theywere soon all on board.
The cutter, then, having her jib and mainsail already set, had only toslip her moorings, and was off and away, bowling out seaward before thebreeze, which was blowing from the land.
The morning was bright and balmy; and the sun having risen some hoursearlier even than the very early risers of the party, its beams by thistime warmed the he
avens and lit up the landscape, the rose-tints of dawnbeing succeeded by a golden glow all over the sky, the sea dancing insympathy and sparkling in the sunlight--being altogether too merry tolook blue.
It did not take the little craft long, running before the wind with aslack sheet, to reach the Horse Shingle shoal, beyond the outlying fort,and near the Warner light-ship, where lay the fishing-ground, or "bank,"which the Captain had described as being especially favourable for theirsport.
"Now," said the old sailor, "the time for action has at last arrived.We must get ready to `shoot' the trawl."
"You are not going to fire?" cried Nell in alarm, hearing him use thetechnical term he had employed. "I'm so afraid of guns."
"No, my dear," he answered chuckling, "I meant pitching the trawl overthe side, just in the same way as you say `shooting' coals or rubbish.Are you ready at your end, Strong?"
"Yes, I'm all right," replied the barrister, who had been ably helpingthe Captain in arranging the meshes of the net along the starboard-gunwale, out of the way of the swing of the boom, and getting the trawl-beam across the stern-sheets of the cutter; while Bob and Dick attendedto the sheets and tiller. "Fire away, Captain Dresser!"
"Well, then, let us heave over," sang out the Captain, in his quarter--deck voice, as he called it. "One--two--three--off she goes!"
So, with a dull plunge, the trawl was "shot," the old sailor and MrStrong quickly pitching over the side, after it, the bunchy folds of thenet; when the guy-rope fastened to the bridle of the beam was secured tothe bowsprit-bitts and then again to a thole-pin aft, so as to preventits getting under the keel.
The boat was then allowed to fill her jib and drift out with the ebbingtide, keeping a straight course for the Nab, and steering herself bymeans of the dragging net astern; neither the services of Bob nor ofDick being required any further at the helm under the circumstances.
"You can light your pipe now, if you like," said Captain Dresser to MrStrong, when this was satisfactorily accomplished. "We shall havenothing to do for the next hour or two; for we must have the net downlong enough to let something have a chance of getting into the pocket ofit."
"I suppose the smell of tobacco won't frighten the fish?" observed thebarrister, gladly taking advantage of the permission and striking avesuvian, his pipe being already loaded and ready. "Fresh-water anglersare rather particular on the point."
"Bless you, no!" replied the old sailor laughing, "our fish at sea knowwhat's good for them and like it!"
Miss Nell, who seemed anxious about something, presently hazarded aquestion when her father had lit his pipe and was smoking comfortably onthe forecastle.
"Are we not going to have any breakfast?" said she, in a very grave way,as befitted a matter of such deep importance. "I feel very hungry."
"Dear me, I was almost forgetting breakfast!" cried the Captain,throwing away the end of the cigar the barrister had offered him, whichhe was smoking rather against the grain, preferring his tobacco in theform of snuff. "Dick, did you bring the things all right as I toldyou?"
"Yes, sir," replied Dick. "They be in the fo'c's'le, sir."
"Is the coffee on the stove?"
"Yes, sir, and biling."
"That's right," said the Captain, who continued, turning to Nellie,"Now, missy, you can preside over our breakfast-table if you like.You'll find all the traps ready in the little cabin for'ard under thehalf-deck."
Thereupon, Miss Nellie, with much dignity, busied herself in pouring outthe coffee, which had been kept hot all the while on "such a dear littlestove," as she called out to Bob the moment she caught sight of it inthe fore-cabin; the pair constituting themselves steward and stewardessinstanter, and serving out, with Dick's help, their rations to the restof the company.
They were in the midst of breakfast, the trawl having been draggingalong the bottom of the sea for not quite an hour, when, all at once,the rope holding it attached to the bowsprit-bitts began to jerkviolently.
"Hallo!" cried the Captain, starting up from his seat on one of thebunks in the little cabin, which, even with stooping, he and Mr Strongfound it a hard matter to squeeze themselves into. "We've caughtsomething big this time!"
"Do you think it's a whale?" said Nell, jumping up also, abandoning inher hurry her post as mistress of the ceremonies. "It must be awfullybig to make that great rope shake so!"
The old sailor chuckled till his sides shook.
"You seem wonderfully fond of whales, missy!" he exclaimed, turninground as soon as he had managed to wriggle himself out of the fo'c's'leand was able to stand erect again. "Don't you remember, you mistookthose grampuses we came across the other day when going to Seaview forwhales?"
"Yes; and I remember, too, Captain, your making fun of me then, the sameas now," replied Nell, smiling as she went on. "I don't mind it though,for I like being here with you and dad!"
"That's right, my dear," replied the old sailor. "There's nothing likekeeping your temper. But, we must now see about hauling in the trawl;for the chap who has got into the net is a big fellow, whoever he is,and, if we don't pull him in pretty sharp, he'll knock our net topieces!"
So saying, the Captain brought the end of the tackle to the littlewindlass placed amidships; when he and Mr Dugald Strong, who did notfind the task, by the way, as easy as he imagined, began reeling in thetrawl rope fathom by fathom, until, anon, the end of the beam was seenpeering above the water alongside.
The jerking of the tackle, which had continued all the time they werehauling in, appeared to increase as the trawl was raised to the surface,the net now that it was within view swaying from side to side; and, whenCaptain Dresser and the barrister leant over the gunwale to lift in thebeam with its pocket attached, there was a hoarse barking sound heardproceeding from the folds of the net, like that of a dog in thedistance.
"Oh!" cried Nellie, in alarm, climbing up on the thwarts and getting asfar away as she could--"what is it?"
"What is it?" echoed Bob in the same breath. "What is it?"
The Captain, however, did not immediately satisfy their curiosity.
"I've got my suspicions," he commenced in a leisurely way as he bent alittle more over the side to get a better hold of the net; but, what hesaw, as the trawl lifted out of the sea, made him quicken his speech,and he exclaimed in a much louder tone-- "Take care, missy, and lookout, you boys! There's a shark in the trawl-net, and a pretty venomousbeast, too!"
Bob Strong's Holidays Page 20
