Spring, Gentle Spring: Schooner Days CMXLIII (943)

by C. H. J. Snider

Hiring in a Ha'nt

IT WAS, as said, a raw damp April in the '80s, (and we don't mean Fahrenheit) with spring lingering somewhere south of the Mason and Dixon line. But as soon as her sails were. bent, the Anna Miles, under new management, sailed from Cobourg for Oswego—a night's run under favorable conditions, about 100 miles—to load coal for Whitby, another run of about 130.

"I don't figger," said Capt. Good-fellow, apologetically, "to make much outta this first trip, what with fitting out and stepping that new mast, and the freight not coming to more'n $100, but mebbe we'll clear expenses."

His wage bill was $230 a month for all hands, and Mrs. Tiger, the ship's cat.

IN FOR IT

A cold, quiet sail of twenty-four hours brought them within sight of Oswego lights, when the wind fell.

"Clem," said the captain to his acting mate, as he turned in at the end of the graveyard watch, 4 a.m., "make th most of it while you can, but if it freshens, call me an' all hands to get the sails off her. The bottom's fallen out of the glass, and we're going to get it cold and heavy."

They did, out of the southeast, dead ahead. They turned her around for the False Ducks, on the north shore, hoping for shelter under Timber Island. Before they got' across the lake the wind had hauled to northeast. The jibtopsail and flying jib parted their tacks, where they were shackled to the horn, burst their downhauls and blew up on their stays. The boys couldn't get them down, except in chunks. The vessel fell to leeward of the Traverse passage. It blew heavier and heavier, She even fell to leeward of Presquile.

"Only thing we can do now is run tier for Toronto Point," said Goodfellow.

"Yes," said In-law, part-owner, and on the books as mate. He saw both investment and wages going up the spout.

BEFORE THE GALE

So west they boiled under squatted sails bulged with wind and snow, and the whole sky full of snowflakes mixed with flying foam clots.

Holding far enough out into the lake to clear Toronto Point, they missed it altogether in the dark. Late daylight showed them the snow-covered shores of Mimico, with the shelter of Toronto Island now hopelessly to windward and astern.

"Guess we'll have to try Hamilton," said Goodfellow, "though there's two bridges across the Burlington piers."

"Yes," said In-law, pouring gelid lakewater out of his ploughboots along with the rest of his fortune.

They were up off Bronte when the sky cleared, and the wind whipped round to the northwest, screaming. Around fell the Anna Miles' head before the smiter, and back down the lake she scooted.

But not fast. The sea was still funning mountains high up the lake and against her. To drive into it at full speed would have swamped her or taken the spars out of her. As it was, although she was light, that is, high and empty of cargo, the water was spilling in on both sides and rolling down her heaving deck and bursting against the break of the cabin. Hours they spent in the cold dark lake, laboring, tossing, worming, squirming. The Devil's Nose was heaving up on the south shore.

"Can't stand this all the way to Oswego—going to try Charlotte," said Goodfellow.

"Try anything," said In-law.

The seas were higher than ever, but coming from astern now, forced about by the west wind. They threatened to burst in the shutters of the stern windows, 10 feet above the waterline.

STAND BY TO JUMP

"Clem!" said Goodfellow, as The Nose whirled past with a sardonic sneer and Braddock's brick lighthouse showed up on Bogus Point. "You stay at the wheel, whether it's your trick or not.

"Boys, I've every confidence in our helmsman, but she may not go in for any man alive when we get there. If—if anything happens at the pierheads—don't wait for orders. It'll roar too loud for anyone to hear. It's every man for himself.

"I'll call 'Thusa up in plenty of time. Satisfied, Clem?"

"I'll do my best,' said Clem. Thusa, his wife, the cook, who could see truth at the bottom of a well, took her place beside him in the cockpit, Mrs. Tiger, the valiant rat-catcher, snuggled in her lee.

"You will bring us all through, Clem," said she.

He hoped her second sight was working. Off the pierheads the seas were going over as high as the lighthouse 'way up on the hill, and the piers were often invisible.

But Clem had lined them up well outside, and taken a compass bearing, and he threaded them like a seamstress hitting a needle's eye-only this had to be on the first shot. There could be no second. The blown spray fell crashing like stones and the breakers roared deafening.

PLOUGHING THE FOREST

As the Anna Miles went into that whirlpool she encountered a floating jungle of trunks and dead bulrushes and boathouses and limbs and planks adrift. The Genesee was in freshet, and pouring out nine miles of floodwater all the way from the falls at Rochester.

It was harder to dodge these obstacles than to enter the piers—then 200 feet wide. The Anna Miles was a hard steerer if you hadn't the hang of her, and the current threw her head every way.

They got in past the lifesaving station, in line with the lake beach pounded by billows, and they were worrying about the swing bridge ahead. Capt. Goodfellow got an anchor over the bow by the exertions of all hands, and let it go with a mighty roar of chain.

"Now get the best springline ashore to hold her on the current till we get straightened away!" was the next order of business.

"NO SALVAGE"

They got the yawlboat down from the davits above the stern windows and hauled it forward to take the line. Everybody was numb with cold and lack of sleep and stiff and sore with the tossing. They felt rather than heard a bump against their ice-filled yawl, as they made ready to run the line. They looked up, and here was the big surfboat of the Rochester lifesavers alongside, with Capt. Scott at the steering oar.

"Give us that line," he bailed. "We saw you coming, and never thought you'd make it. We'll take your lines ashore and moor you proper, and look after your vessel. You must be dead tuckered out."

"Yes," said the In-law.

"But no salvage, mind," cannily added Capt. Goodfellow.

" 'Thusa," said Clem Clewlin to his spouse, after all was made snug, "how could you tell we were going to come through all right?"

"I couldn't," said 'Thusa candidly. "But I knew if anybody could bring us in you could, and I knew you'd do your best if you were confident."

LUCK OF THE EARLY BIRD—

SOMETIMES A NICE WORM

—SOMETIMES AN ICE WORM

What the "ANNA MILES" looked like when she got into Charlotte that time.