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Updated: September 17, 2025
"'Ay, says Skipper Jim, 'they knows us, b'y! They knows the Sink or Swim. We lies t' win'ard, an' they're feared o' the smallpox. They'll risk that craft women an' kids an' all t' get away. They isn't a craft afloat can beat t' sea in this here gale. They'll founder, lad, or they'll drive on the rocks an' loss themselves, all hands.
Mother Tapsy told us of it, the very next day, for it was not in our power to be ackirate when he done it, and we see everybody laffing at us round the corner. But we took the wind out of his sails the next night, captain, you may warrant us. Here's to your good health, Sir, afore I beats to win'ard." "Why, Joseph, you seem to be making up lost way for years of taciturnity in the tower.
"What's the row, eh?" "I sees summit to win'ard, sir." "By George!" exclaimed the skipper in a tone that made every one laugh who heard, all but Masters; the coincidence was so comical after what Captain Applegarth had said only a minute before. "Not another `ghost- ship, I hope!" "No, sir," growled the boatswain rather savagely.
"Yes, sir," said the second lieutenant, smiling, and rubbing his hands, having put down his telescope on top of the movable slab on the bridge the navigator had for spreading out his charts; Mr Dabchick assuming an air of great complacency, as if it were entirely through his exertions the dhows had been seen or were there at all "I think you'll find 'em there to win'ard all right, sir."
This I managed to achieve successfully at my first attempt, thanks to Dad's previous instruction; and I not only "got to win'ard" of the old seaman by the knowledge I thus displayed, but added to my laurels by showing that I knew something also of the somewhat intricate arts of "worming" and "parcelling" and "serving" ropes when occasion arose for dealing with them in such fashion, repeating aloud, to the great satisfaction of my teacher, the distich which guides the tyro and tells him how to do his work properly:
"Mr Gresham," said Captain Hankey to the first lieutenant, "I should like you to go in the steam pinnace and work away to win'ard towards Ras Hafim you know the place we marked on the chart last night above Binna?"
"As well try to bate to win'ard in me grandmother's wash-tub," remarked Teddy Maroon, in a disrespectful tone. Smeaton, agreeing with them, lay-to the whole of the 24th, and then, casting anchor, debated whether it were better to make for the coast of France or try to reach the Scilly Islands.
"But, as I says to ye last night, says I, when that poor chap kicked the bucket as we've just been a-burying on, we ain't seen the end on it yet. I misdoubts the weather, too, sir. There's a great bank of cloud now rising up to win'ard, and I fancies I heard jist now the sound o' thunder ag'in." "Thunder?" I exclaimed. "Nonsense!"
"I was a-saying to Master Haldane that it were precious misty and thick to win'ard and I feared thunder over there." "Thunder! thunder your grandmother!" cried the skipper testily. "I've pretty sharp ears, bo'sun, and I have heard none to-night. Have you, Haldane?" "N-n-o, sir, not thunder," I answered, listening attentively for a moment. "Stay, sir, though.
I know he no go 'long wi' de cappen, 'case I see de little chap close by de caboose after de gig row 'way. If he hab go by de raff dem ruffins sure eat him up, dat be if dey get hungry. Dey sure do dat! Hark! what's dat I heer? Sure's my name be Snowball, I hear some 'un 'peak out dere to win'ard. D'you hear anything, lilly Lally?" "Yes, Snowball: I think I did." "What you tink you?" "A voice."
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