Chapter 9

THE SAILORS BECOMING A LITTLE SOCIAL, REDBURN CONVERSES WITH THEM

The latter part of this first long watch that we stood was very
pleasant, so far as the weather was concerned. From being rather cloudy,
it became a soft moonlight; and the stars peeped out, plain enough to
count one by one; and there was a fine steady breeze; and it was not
very cold; and we were going through the water almost as smooth as a
sled sliding down hill. And what was still better, the wind held so
steady, that there was little running aloft, little pulling ropes, and
scarcely any thing disagreeable of that kind.

The chief mate kept walking up and down the quarter-deck, with a lighted
long-nine cigar in his mouth by way of a torch; and spoke but few words
to us the whole watch. He must have had a good deal of thinking to
attend to, which hi truth is the case with most seamen the first night
out of port, especially when they have thrown away their money in
foolish dissipation, and got very sick into the bargain. For when
ashore, many of these sea-officers are as wild and reckless in their
way, as the sailors they command.

While I stood watching the red cigar-end promenading up and down, the
mate suddenly stopped and gave an order, and the men sprang to obey it.
It was not much, only something about hoisting one of the sails a little
higher up on the mast. The men took hold of the rope, and began pulling
upon it; the foremost man of all setting up a song with no words to it,
only a strange musical rise and fall of notes. In the dark night, and
far out upon the lonely sea, it sounded wild enough, and made me feel as
I had sometimes felt, when in a twilight room a cousin of mine, with
black eyes, used to play some old German airs on the piano. I almost
looked round for goblins, and felt just a little bit afraid. But I soon
got used to this singing; for the sailors never touched a rope without
it. Sometimes, when no one happened to strike up, and the pulling,
whatever it might be, did not seem to be getting forward very well, the
mate would always say, "Come, men, can't any of you sing? Sing now, and
raise the dead." And then some one of them would begin, and if every
man's arms were as much relieved as mine by the song, and he could pull
as much better as I did, with such a cheering accompaniment, I am sure
the song was well worth the breath expended on it. It is a great thing
in a sailor to know how to sing well, for he gets a great name by it
from the officers, and a good deal of popularity among his shipmates.
Some sea-captains, before shipping a man, always ask him whether he can
sing out at a rope.

During the greater part of the watch, the sailors sat on the windlass
and told long stories of their