Chapter 25

QUARTER-DECK FURNITURE

Though, for reasons hinted at above, they would not let me steer, I
contented myself with learning the compass, a graphic facsimile of which
I drew on a blank leaf of the "Wealth of Nations," and studied it every
morning, like the multiplication table.

I liked to peep in at the binnacle, and watch the needle; arid I
wondered how it was that it pointed north, rather than south or west;
for I do not know that any reason can be given why it points in the
precise direction it does. One would think, too, that, as since the
beginning of the world almost, the tide of emigration has been setting
west, the needle would point that way; whereas, it is forever pointing
its fixed fore-finger toward the Pole, where there are few inducements
to attract a sailor, unless it be plenty of ice for mint-juleps.

Our binnacle, by the way, the place that holds a ship's compasses,
deserves a word of mention. It was a little house, about the bigness of
a common bird-cage, with sliding panel doors, and two drawing-rooms
within, and constantly perched upon a stand, right in front of the helm.
It had two chimney stacks to carry off the smoke of the lamp that burned
in it by night.

It was painted green, and on two sides had Venetian blinds; and on one
side two glazed sashes; so that it looked like a cool little summer
retreat, a snug bit of an arbor at the end of a shady garden lane. Had I
been the captain, I would have planted vines in boxes, and placed them
so as to overrun this binnacle; or I would have put canary-birds within;
and so made an aviary of it. It is surprising what a different air may
be imparted to the meanest thing by the dainty hand of taste. Nor must I
omit the helm itself, which was one of a new construction, and a
particular favorite of the captain. It was a complex system of cogs and
wheels and spindles, all of polished brass, and looked something like a
printing-press, or power-loom. The sailors, however, did not like it
much, owing to the casualties that happened to their imprudent fingers,
by catching in among the cogs and other intricate contrivances. Then,
sometimes in a calm, when the sudden swells would lift the ship, the
helm would fetch a lurch, and send the helmsman revolving round like
Ixion, often seriously hurting him; a sort of breaking on the wheel.

The harness-cask, also, a sort of sea side-board, or rather meat-safe,
in which a week's allowance of salt pork and beef is kept, deserves
being chronicled. It formed part of the standing furniture of the
quarter-deck. Of an oval shape, it was banded round with hoops all
silver-gilt, with gilded bands secured with gilded screws, and a gilded
padlock, richly chased. This formed the captain's