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Updated: June 27, 2025
I shouted, standing on the thwart and making a trumpet of my hands. Captain Pomery turned, cast a glance towards us over his left shoulder and lifted a hand. A moment later he called an order forward, and the two men left the anchor and ran to haul in sheets. Here was a plain invitation to pull alongside.
Gratitude may have helped a little; but you can say, and you will not be far out, that for very shame we are here." Captain Pomery who hailed me over the ship's side, proudly invited me to row around and inspect the repairs in her particularly her new stern-post before climbing on board.
Out of the little logic I had picked up at Oxford I tried to explain to him the process known as sorites; and suggested that Captain Pomery, while tolerant of "I attempt from Love's sickness to fly" up to the hundredth repetition, might conceivably show signs of tiring at the hundred-and-first.
For reasons which he kept to himself Captain Pomery did not share in our elation. In the dim past, when he had bid for her at a public auction, Captain Pomery may have designed to use the gun as a chaser, or perhaps, even then, for decoration only.
"What brings her in here, that's what I'm askin'." "Belike," said I, scrambling over the gunwale, "the man has lost his bearings in this fog, and mistakes Helford for Falmouth entrance." "Lost his bearin's! Jo Pomery lost his bearin's!" Billy regarded me between pity and reproach.
"Mackerel?" said Captain Pomery. "If ye found one fool enough to take hold at the rate we're sailing, ye'd pull his head off." "Why, then, he would be off his head," answered I: "and there are plenty here to make him feel at home." In truth I was nettled; jealous, as a lad in his first friendship is quick to be. Were not Nat and I of one age?
My father therefore added the word "approximately" to his entry, and waited for Captain Pomery to recover. Though the sea went down even more quickly than it had arisen, the pumps kept us fairly busy. All that night, under a clear and starry sky, we steered for the north-east with the wind brisk upon our starboard quarter. "I have no chart, No compass but a heart," quoted I in mischief to Nat.
Five slow minutes passed, and it became apparent that Captain Pomery had views of his own about abandoning the ship, for the Gauntlet neither dropped anchor nor took in canvas, but held on her tack, letting the boat drop astern on a tow-rope.
"Why, lad, by the look of you we should be running ashore!" exclaimed my father. "And so we should be at this moment," said I, "were not the reckoning out." Captain Pomery reached out for the paper. "The reckoning is right enough," said he, after studying it awhile. "Then on what land, in Heaven's name, are we running?" my father demanded testily.
There's maybe three men in the world besides Jo Pomery could ha' done it the Lord knows how, unless 'tis by sense o' smell. And he've a-lost his bearin's, says you!" "Well then," I ventured, "perhaps he has a fancy to land part of his cargo duty-free." "That's likelier," Billy assented. "I don't say 'tis the truth, mind you: for if 'tis truth, why should the man choose to fetch land by daylight?
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