the mirror of the sea-第4部分

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though；　of　course；　he　is　the　executive　supervisor　of　the　whole。



There　are　HIS　anchors；　HIS　headgear；　his　foremast；　his　station　for



manoeuvring　when　the　captain　is　in　charge。　　And　there；　too；　live



the　men；　the　ship's　hands；　whom　it　is　his　duty　to　keep　employed；



fair　weather　or　foul；　for　the　ship's　welfare。　　It　is　the　chief



mate；　the　only　figure　of　the　ship's　afterguard；　who　comes　bustling



forward　at　the　cry　of　〃All　hands　on　deck！〃　　He　is　the　satrap　of



that　province　in　the　autocratic　realm　of　the　ship；　and　more



personally　responsible　for　anything　that　may　happen　there。







There；　too；　on　the　approach　to　the　land；　assisted　by　the　boatswain



and　the　carpenter；　he　〃gets　the　anchors　over〃　with　the　men　of　his



own　watch；　whom　he　knows　better　than　the　others。　　There　he　sees　the



cable　ranged；　the　windlass　disconnected；　the　compressors　opened；



and　there；　after　giving　his　own　last　order；　〃Stand　clear　of　the



cable！〃　he　waits　attentive；　in　a　silent　ship　that　forges　slowly



ahead　towards　her　picked…out　berth；　for　the　sharp　shout　from　aft；



〃Let　go！〃　　Instantly　bending　over；　he　sees　the　trusty　iron　fall



with　a　heavy　plunge　under　his　eyes；　which　watch　and　note　whether　it



has　gone　clear。







For　the　anchor　〃to　go　clear〃　means　to　go　clear　of　its　own　chain。



Your　anchor　must　drop　from　the　bow　of　your　ship　with　no　turn　of



cable　on　any　of　its　limbs；　else　you　would　be　riding　to　a　foul



anchor。　　Unless　the　pull　of　the　cable　is　fair　on　the　ring；　no



anchor　can　be　trusted　even　on　the　best　of　holding　ground。　　In　time



of　stress　it　is　bound　to　drag；　for　implements　and　men　must　be



treated　fairly　to　give　you　the　〃virtue〃　which　is　in　them。　　The



anchor　is　an　emblem　of　hope；　but　a　foul　anchor　is　worse　than　the



most　fallacious　of　false　hopes　that　ever　lured　men　or　nations　into



a　sense　of　security。　　And　the　sense　of　security；　even　the　most



warranted；　is　a　bad　councillor。　　It　is　the　sense　which；　like　that



exaggerated　feeling　of　well…being　ominous　of　the　coming　on　of



madness；　precedes　the　swift　fall　of　disaster。　　A　seaman　labouring



under　an　undue　sense　of　security　becomes　at　once　worth　hardly　half



his　salt。　　Therefore；　of　all　my　chief　officers；　the　one　I　trusted



most　was　a　man　called　B…。　　He　had　a　red　moustache；　a　lean　face；



also　red；　and　an　uneasy　eye。　　He　was　worth　all　his　salt。







On　examining　now；　after　many　years；　the　residue　of　the　feeling



which　was　the　outcome　of　the　contact　of　our　personalities；　I



discover；　without　much　surprise；　a　certain　flavour　of　dislike。



Upon　the　whole；　I　think　he　was　one　of　the　most　uncomfortable



shipmates　possible　for　a　young　commander。　　If　it　is　permissible　to



criticise　the　absent；　I　should　say　he　had　a　little　too　much　of　the



sense　of　insecurity　which　is　so　invaluable　in　a　seaman。　　He　had　an



extremely　disturbing　air　of　being　everlastingly　ready　（even　when



seated　at　table　at　my　right　hand　before　a　plate　of　salt　beef）　to



grapple　with　some　impending　calamity。　　I　must　hasten　to　add　that　he



had　also　the　other　qualification　necessary　to　make　a　trustworthy



seaman　…　that　of　an　absolute　confidence　in　himself。　　What　was



really　wrong　with　him　was　that　he　had　these　qualities　in　an



unrestful　degree。　　His　eternally　watchful　demeanour；　his　jerky；



nervous　talk；　even　his；　as　it　were；　determined　silences；　seemed　to



imply　…　and；　I　believe；　they　did　imply　…　that　to　his　mind　the　ship



was　never　safe　in　my　hands。　　Such　was　the　man　who　looked　after　the



anchors　of　a　less　than　five…hundred…ton　barque；　my　first　command；



now　gone　from　the　face　of　the　earth；　but　sure　of　a　tenderly



remembered　existence　as　long　as　I　live。　　No　anchor　could　have　gone



down　foul　under　Mr。　B…'s　piercing　eye。　　It　was　good　for　one　to　be



sure　of　that　when；　in　an　open　roadstead；　one　heard　in　the　cabin　the



wind　pipe　up；　but　still；　there　were　moments　when　I　detested　Mr。　B…



exceedingly。　　From　the　way　he　used　to　glare　sometimes；　I　fancy　that



more　than　once　he　paid　me　back　with　interest。　　It　so　happened　that



we　both　loved　the　little　barque　very　much。　　And　it　was　just　the



defect　of　Mr。　B…'s　inestimable　qualities　that　he　would　never



persuade　himself　to　believe　that　the　ship　was　safe　in　my　hands。　　To



begin　with；　he　was　more　than　five　years　older　than　myself　at　a　time



of　life　when　five　years　really　do　count；　I　being　twenty…nine　and　he



thirty…four；　then；　on　our　first　leaving　port　（I　don't　see　why　I



should　make　a　secret　of　the　fact　that　it　was　Bangkok）；　a　bit　of



manoeuvring　of　mine　amongst　the　islands　of　the　Gulf　of　Siam　had



given　him　an　unforgettable　scare。　　Ever　since　then　he　had　nursed　in



secret　a　bitter　idea　of　my　utter　recklessness。　　But　upon　the　whole；



and　unless　the　grip　of　a　man's　hand　at　parting　means　nothing



whatever；　I　conclude　that　we　did　like　each　other　at　the　end　of　two



years　and　three　months　well　enough。







The　bond　between　us　was　the　ship；　and　therein　a　ship；　though　she



has　female　attributes　and　is　loved　very　unreasonably；　is　different



from　a　woman。　　That　I　should　have　been　tremendously　smitten　with　my



first　command　is　nothing　to　wonder　at；　but　I　suppose　I　must　admit



that　Mr。　B…'s　sentiment　was　of　a　higher　order。　　Each　of　us；　of



course；　was　extremely　anxious　about　the　good　appearance　of　the



beloved　object；　and；　though　I　was　the　one　to　glean　compliments



ashore；　B…　had　the　more　intimate　pride　of　feeling；　resembling　that



of　a　devoted　handmaiden。　　And　that　sort　of　faithful　and　proud



devotion　went　so　far　as　to　make　him　go　about　flicking　the　dust　off



the　varnished　teak…wood　rail　of　the　little　craft　with　a　silk



pocket…handkerchief　…　a　present　from　Mrs。　B…；　I　believe。







That　was　the　effect　of　his　love　for　the　barque。　　The　effect　of　his



admirable　lack　of　the　sense　of　security　once　went　so　far　as　to　make



him　remark　to　me：　　〃Well；　sir；　you　ARE　a　lucky　man！〃







It　was　said　in　a　tone　full　of　significance；　but　not　exactly



offensive；　and　it　was；　I　suppose；　my　innate　tact　that　prevented　my



asking；　〃What　on　earth　do　you　mean　by　that？〃







Later　on　his　meaning　was　illustrated　more　fully　on　a　dark　night　in



a　tight　corner　during　a　dead　on…shore　gale。　　I　had　called　him　up　on



deck　to　help　me　consider　our　extremely　unpleasant　situation。　　There



was　not　much　time　for　deep　thinking；　and　his　summing…up　was：　　〃It



looks　pretty　bad；　whichever　we　try；　but；　then；　sir；　you　always　do



get　out　of　a　mess　somehow。〃















VI。















It　is　difficult　to　disconnect　the　idea　of　ships'　anchors　from　the



idea　of　the　ship's　chief　mate　…　the　man　who　sees　them　go　down　clear



and　come　up　sometimes　foul；　because　not　even　the　most　unremitting



care　can　always　prevent　a　ship；　swinging　to　winds　and　tide；　from



taking　an　awkward　turn　of　the　cable　round　stock　or　fluke。　　Then　the



business　of　〃getting　the　anchor〃　and　securing　it　afterwards　is



unduly　prolonged；　and　made　a　weariness　to　the　chief　mate。　　He　is



the　man　who　watches　the　growth　of　the　cable　…　a　sailor's　phrase



which　has　all　the　force；　precision；　and　imagery　of　technical



language　that；　created　by　simple　men　with　keen　eyes　for　the　real



aspect　of　the　things　they　see　in　their　trade；　achieves　the　just



expression　seizing　upon　the　essential；　which　is　the　ambition　of　the



artist　in　words。　　Therefore　the　sailor　will　never　say；　〃cast



anchor；〃　and　the　ship…master　aft　will　hail　his　chief　mate　on　the



forecastle　in　impressionistic　phrase：　　〃How　does　the　cable　grow？〃



Because　〃grow〃　is　the　right　word　for　the　long　drift　of　a　cable



emerging　aslant　under　the　strain；　taut　as　a　bow…string　above　the



water。　　And　it　is　the　voice　of　the　keeper　of　the　ship's　anchors



that　will　answer：　　〃Grows　right　ahead；　sir；〃　or　〃Broad　on　the　bow；〃



or　whatever　concise　and　deferential　shout　will　fit　the　case。







There　is　no　order　more　noisily　given　or　taken　up　with　lustier



shouts　on　board　a　homeward…bound　merchant　ship　than　the　command；



〃Man　the　windlass！〃　　The　rush　of　expectant　men　out　of　the



forecastle；　the　snatching　of　hand…spikes；　the　tramp　of　feet；　the



clink　of　the　pawls；　make　a　stirring　accompaniment　to　a　plaintive



up…anchor　song　with　a　roaring　chorus；　and　this　burst　of　noisy



activity　from　a　whole　ship's　crew　seems　like　a　voiceful　awakening



of　the　ship　herself；　till　then；　in　the　picturesque　phrase　of　Dutch



seamen；　〃lying　asleep　upon　her　iron。〃







For　a　ship　with　her　sails　furled　on　her　squared　yards；　and



reflected　from　truck　to　water…line　in　the　smooth　gleaming　sheet　of



a　landlocked　harbour；　seems；　indeed；　to　a　seaman's　eye　the　most



perfect　picture　of　slumbering　repose。　　The　getting　of　your　anchor



was　a　noisy　operation　on　board　a　merchant　ship　of　yesterday　…　an



inspiring；　joyous　noise；　as　if；　with　the　emblem　of　hope；　the　ship's



company　expected　to　drag　up　out　of　the　depths；　each　man　all　his



personal　hopes　into　the　reach　of　a　s