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Updated: May 4, 2025
The steersman at once threw her up into the wind with the intention of rendering assistance, but in another minute the Lively Poll had sunk and disappeared for ever, carrying Peter Jay and Hawkson along with her. Of course several boats pushed off at once to the rescue, and hovered about the spot for some time, but neither the men nor the vessel were ever seen again.
In the little box of the Lively Poll which out of courtesy we shall style the cabin Jim Freeman and David Duffy were playing cards, and Stephen Lockley was smoking. Joe Stubby was drinking, smoking, and grumbling at the weather; Hawkson, a new hand shipped in place of Fred Martin, was looking on. The rest were on deck.
A roar of laughter on deck announced that Bob Lumsden had found something quite to his taste. "First-rate ha! ha! I wonder if it's all true." "Hold your noise there," cried Hawkson; "who d'ee think can learn off a hymn wi' you shoutin' like a bo'sun's mate an' Duffy snortin' like a grampus?" "Ah, just so," chimed in Stubley, looking up from his board. "Why don't you let it out, David?
"What's the use o' grumblin', Stub?" said Hawkson, lifting a live coal with his fingers to light his pipe. "Don't `Stub' me," said Stubley in an angry tone. "Would you rather like me to stab you?" asked Hawkson, with a good-humoured glance, as he puffed at his pipe. "I'd rather you clapped a stopper on your jaw." "Ah so's you might have all the jawin' to yourself?" retorted Hawkson.
"But you tell stories sometimes, don't you?" asked Hawkson. "No, never." "Oh! that's a story anyhow," cried Freeman. "Come, I'll spin ye one," said the skipper, in that hearty tone which had an irresistible tendency to put hearers in good humour, and sometimes even raised the growling spirit of Joe Stubley into something like amiability.
Hawkson was making desperate efforts to commit to memory a hymn, with the tune of which he had recently fallen in love, and the meaning of which was, unknown to himself, slowly but surely entering deep into his awakening soul.
"Of course we was told the moment we came alongside the wharf this mornin', that somebody had bin blowin' half a gale o' lies about it, but Stephen Lockley ain't drownded, not he, an' don't mean to be for some time. He was aboard of the Sunbeam at the time his wessel went down an' all the rest of 'em, except poor Jay an' Hawkson, an' we've brought 'em all ashore.
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