Identifier: recollectionsofs00davi (find matches)
Title: Recollections of a sea wanderer's life; an autobiography of an old-time seaman who has sailed in almost every capacity before and abaft the mast, in nearly every quarter of the globe, and under the flags of four of the principal maritime nations
Year: 1887 (1880s)
Authors: Davis, George, b. 1821
Subjects: Seafaring life
Publisher: New York, A. H. Kellogg, printer
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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hich thecaptain was sogering below, putting upon his officersshoulders double duty and the entire responsibility of thevoyage. When, therefore, a dozen times a day the captain wouldroar out for his glass of brandy, I always responded cheer-fully, and, taking a bottle out of the locker where it waskept, would fill out a glassful and hand it to him; but justas he would be on the point of seizing it in his eager grasp,I would sometimes make a profound obeisance, and saying,very gravely, Heres your good health, sir, Captain Bro-phy; I hope your ankle will soon be well; were all dyingto see you on the quarter-deck again, I would then drainthe glass, smack my lips, and, making another bow, retireamid a perfect tempest of imprecations. Well, we did get out of the Doldrums at last, andfalling in with the regular noreast trades, squared away,with all stun sails alow and aloft. In vessels of our class it was customary for the cook tosteer in the last dog-watch, from six to eight in the evening,
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j6 CAPTAIN BROPHY. and in daytime to set and haul in the mainto-gallant stunsails from the maintop, and work the main-royal. These duties I performed with the greatest pleasure, andendeavored, by assiduous questioning and careful observa-tion, to learn the duties of the vocation to which I intendedto devote my life. The trade winds continued steady, and in eleven daysmore we made Barbadoes, and hove too off Bridgetown, thechief port, where we received orders to proceed to St. Vin-cent, to leeward, and the next morning dropped anchor inKingston Roads, off Kingston, the chief town of the island. Captain Brophy now seemed to be rapidly convalescing;as his ankle knit together, my apprehensions increased.Conscience makes cowards of us all, and I feared that hewould commemorate his recovery by inscribing on my backtablets of certain hieroglyphics which would be neitheragreeable nor ornamental. I therefore concluded that dis-cretion would be the better part of valor, and determinedto flee fr

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