E-text prepared by Al Haines
Transcriber's note:
"Bartimeus" is the pseudonym of Captain Lewis Ritchie, R.N.
On Other Naval Occasions
by
Author of "Naval Occasions"
. . . "All I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
* * *
And a laughing yarn from a merry fellow rover,
And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over."
JOHN MASEFIELD
Cassell and Company, Ltd
London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne
First published September 1915.
Reprinted September and October 1915.
To
It is almost superfluous to observe that the following sketches containno attempt at the portrait of an individual. The majority are etchedin with the ink of pure imagination. A few are "composite" sketches ofa large number of originals with whom the Author has been shipmates inthe past and whose friendship he is grateful to remember.
Of these, some, alas! have finished "the long trick." To them, at norisk of breaking their quiet sleep—Ave atque vale.
"Crab-Pots," "The Day," and "Chummy-Ships" appeared originally inBlackwood's Magazine, and are reproduced here by kind permission ofthe Editor.
1
In moments of crisis the disciplined human mind works as a thingdetached, refusing to be hurried or flustered by outward circumstance.Time and its artificial divisions it does not acknowledge. It isconcerned with preposterous details and with the ludicrous, and it isacutely solicitous of other people's welfare, whilst working at a speedmere electricity could never attain.
Thus with James Thorogood, Lieutenant, Royal Navy, when he—togetherwith his bath, bedding, clothes, and scanty cabin furniture, revolver,first-aid outfit, and all the things that were his—was precipitatedthrough his cabin door across the aft-deck. The ship heeled violently,and the stunning sound of the explosion died away amid the uproar ofmen's voices along the mess-deck and the tinkle and clatter of brokencrockery in the wardroom pantry.
"Torpedoed!" said James, and was in his conjecture entirely correct.He emerged from beneath the debris of his possessions, shaken andbruised, and was aware that the aft-deck (that spacious vestibulegiving admittance on either side to officers' cabins, and normallyoccupied by a solitary Marine sentry) was filled with figures rushingpast him towards the hatchway.
It was half-past seven in the morning. The Morning-watch had beenrelieved and were dressing. The Middle-watch, of which James had beenone, were turning out after a brief three-hours' spell of sleep.Officers from the bathroom, girt in towels, wardroom servants who hadbeen laying the table for breakfast, one or two Warrant-officers in seaboots and monkey jackets—the Watch-below, in short—appeare