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Updated: May 6, 2025
Forty-eight hours later, when the last wakening vision among the twenty men had taken cognizance of the grisly object aloft, the gaff was guyed outboard, the rope cut at the fife-rail, and the body of Tom Plate dropped, feet first, to the sea.
At another time they would have probably been more particular, and demanded a high-powered motor launch; or at the least one of those Cailie Outboard Motors to clamp on the stern of a rowboat; but right now it was a case of "my kingdom, not for a horse, but any sort of boat capable of floating." Max heaved a sigh.
I did not go around the chart-house and join Miss West, but stood enthralled by the spectacle of that heart that beat in the tropic heat. Boisterous shouts from the sailors attracted my attention. They had all climbed to the top of the tall rail and were watching something outboard. I followed their gaze and saw the amazing thing. That long-eviscerated shark was not dead.
While the mother-whale expressing her bereavement in terms of violence and destruction, was withdrawing the necessary distance for another charge, all hands of the Mary Turner gathered about the starboard boat swung outboard ready for lowering. A respectable hill of case goods, water-kegs, and personal dunnage was piled on the deck alongside.
The boat was outboard, its gunwale resting against the Mary Turner's rail. "Ten inches, sir, and making fast," was the mate's information, as he gauged the sounding-rod. "I'm going after my tools," Captain Doane announced, as he started for the cabin. Half into the scuttle, he paused to add with a sneer for Nishikanta's benefit, "And for my one chronometer."
The small handful of whites were on the top of the fiddley, and while most were fighting to keep the Africans back, a couple were frenziedly working to get a pair of davits swung outboard, and a lifeboat which hung from them lowered into the water.
Margaret did not disdain the aid of my hand as she climbed upon the pin- rail at the foot of the weather jigger-rigging. But it was merely the recognition of a courtesy on her part, for the next moment she released her mittened hand from mine, swung boldly outboard into the face of the gale, and around against the ratlines. Then she began to climb.
Quickly, with deft hands, the outboard connections, which served as exhausts for the oil motors, must be closed in such a way as to resist at once the high water pressure. It is well known that for every ten meters under water we oppose the pressure of one atmosphere one kilogram to the square centimeter and we must be prepared to dive to far greater depths.
His ruddy face, amazed under the now strengthening light of day, brought a smile to the Master's lips. "What else are we, my dear fellow?" the Master queried. "To seize a ship a water-ship or one of the air matters nothing and to overpower the crew, kill or wound a few, throw them outboard and sail away, comes pretty near constituting piracy.
"Get that stuff aboard, lively," said Captain Riggs to Harris, and the mate gave orders to have the slings thrown outboard. "Where do they go?" asked Harris. Captain Riggs looked at Trego inquiringly. "In the storeroom below right under the feet of me," said Trego, stamping his foot. "Cargo in the storeroom," said Captain Riggs in surprise. "Eet ees for you to obey," snapped Trego excitedly.
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