Adapted from the short story by Jay Wilmer Benjamin
(Note: Argosies ["AR-guh-seas"] are fleets of merchant ships.)
Charles only knew one thing: his ship, the Volcania, sank 5 days ago. He was lucky, since he didn't go down with it. He made it into one of the lifeboats, but now he was drifting alone, in the Caribbean. Was he going crazy? He didn't think so, but all of these ghastly people kept trying to talk to him.
They were sailors. He knew that. But what a strange crew! There were ship cooks with their rough hands. There were also old sailors who were barefoot. Some were famous for sailing the long route from China to England in only two months!
And there were engineers like Charles, who knew the great ships, inside and out. These sailors were trying to talk to him--but Charles shook his head.
"Dead men can't talk!" he said to himself.
The sun beat down. The sea reflected it. Charles could only think of one thing. Water-water-WATER!
Finally, one old tough sailor, who looked like he survived many disasters, beckoned him. Charles heard him say:
"Don't look so worried. What ship do you want to work on?"
"Work on a ship? With you? What do you mean?" asked Charles. "You can't even–”
The old sailor laughed, and Charles shuddered. It’s weird to hear ghosts laugh, and Charles knew these were ghosts. This sea was the location of so many shipwrecks and dead men, over the years!
"You think we're dead, don't you?" said the sailor. "Well, we're not! The only time a sailor really dies is when they bury him in the ground. But the sea! We live forever in the sea. There's men here who served in every kind of vessel, from small boats to the great ships of the oceans!"
"Who are you?" asked Charles.
"Me? Well, have you ever heard of the Ranger? Her captain was Paul Jones. A good captain, he was, and not too hard on his men.
"Paul Jones? He's been dead for nearly two hundred years!"
"Not quite so many," said the old sailor, and laughed.
"Ugh!" thought Charles, "I must be going mad."
"On the other hand,” said the sailor, “here's old Peter.” He waved a hand toward a short, hairy man. "He sailed with Quintus Maximus when the Romans banished Carthage from the Mediterranean."
Peter grinned and said something. The old sailor translated. "He says it was a great fight, and you should have seen them scatter when the warships came out!”
"What? That man served under Quintus Maximus? But that was nineteen hundred years ago!"
"Oh, I'd say more like two thousand years ago, but what's time, after all? What's time?"
That was just too much for Charles to hear. I must really be crazy, he thought to himself. He leaned his head against the side of the boat and began to cry, in long sobs. The sailor reached over, and Charles shivered at the touch of his hand. It was icy cold, despite the sun sending its red-hot rays to beat on Charles’s back.
"I felt that way when they left me on the sea to drift, too. You know, I was the man they lost from the Ranger. But here's Henry Hudson. Do you want to talk to him about drifting?”
Charles thought back to his history lessons, years earlier. In 1611, Henry Hudson’s crew got tired of all the exploring, all the cold, and all the ice. They banished him to a little boat and left him alone on the open sea.
"No,” Charles decided. He did not want to think about drifting anymore.
A voice broke in, a deep voice vibrant with sympathy.
"Poor youngster! They all feel that way just before they sign on. Myself, I felt it too."
"Who are you?" Charles asked, frantically hoping it wasn't who he thought it was.
"Hendrik Hudson–once, captain of the Half-Moon. As a lad, I signed on to sail under Admiral Beresford. These days, I command the Saturnia. Do you want to sign on with me?"
"What do you mean?"
"Young fool! Do you not know that we, who sailed the seven seas, still sail beneath her? Look!"-and he pointed a thick fat finger at the green waves.
Weakly, Charles crawled to the side of the boat and looked. Down below he saw a tall clipper ship sailing serenely. Her sails were gone, and in their places were long streamers of kelp. From top to bottom, she was covered with flying seaweed, but on her decks, sailors went here and there, just as if it were their normal life.
Then Charles heard a ship's bell, but it sounded like it was 100 meters deep in the water. Then he heard a faraway voice:
"Three bells! Relieve the wheel and lookout."
Charles turned back to Captain Hudson.
"But I know nothing about sailing-ships, Captain. I'm an engineer."
"So?” Hendrik Hudson turned to the old sailor. “Hey, Nat. Does Captain Lucks need an engineer?"
"That depends. I hear he needs someone with the right expertise, with the extra first class certificate."
"Call him up, will you?"
Charles watched as the old sailor, Nat, took out a bosun's whistle and blew an odd, high-pitched call.
The sea bubbled, and up came a man dressed just like every captain of the sea. He had four gold stripes on his uniform. The stripes looked just as bright as when Captain Lucks was still alive, and commanded the Titania.
"Hello. What is the matter?" he boomed.
Charles heard the way Captain Lucks talked. There was a slight hiss to the S's, as though the captain had false teeth.
Nat looked a little shy about talking to the great Captain Lucks. Captain Lucks seemed very stern and not fond of chit-chat.
"This man, Captain," said Nat, "wants to sign on with you."
“Hmm. What skills does he have?"
“Engineering, sir,” said Charles. “Extra first class, sir." Now he was convinced that all this was more than just a dream, that it was indeed actually life.
…
Dimly on the horizon, a faint smudge of smoke rose into the sky. A long, lean coast-guard ship cut through the water like a knife. They were searching for survivors of the Volcania. That was the ship that Charles was on. An officer looked at the lonely sea.
"Goodness!" he thought. "How terrible to be left adrift here!”
Then he saw a tiny white spot, far away. It was Charles’ boat. He called for help with a sharp voice.
"Turn 90 degrees west! Call the captain. I see a boat!"
"Aye, aye, sir!"
The wheel spun. A messenger raced to get the captain. The captain went to the bridge and called down below. "Engine room," he said, "can you make this old ship go any faster?"
The ship's engines thrust the mighty ship forward and black smoke poured out of the smokestacks.
Soon, the ship floated next to Charles’ lifeboat. A crew of young sailors lifted Charles. They saw him looking at someone and trying to salute him, but the young sailors didn't see anyone else there.
Charles mumbled like he was asleep. "I'll be honored to join your crew, sir," he said.
The young sailors had seen men adrift before. They knew what the sea and sun can do. So they looked at him with kindness and helped him aboard the coast guard ship.
As the young sailors carried him, Charles said strange things about drowned ships and old sailors.
Charles gazed around, frantically. He seemed to be trying to understand where he was. "Is this my new room aboard, Captain?" he asked, weakly.
"Take it easy, son, you'll be fine, now," advised a grizzled sailor.
Charles looked at the sailor, but he was confused. Suddenly Charles fell back, half-asleep, and began to babble.
The sailor looked at Charles and felt sorry for him. Then he bent forward, listening to all the crazy words. His eyes widened. Who? What?
“My word!" he said, in amazement,"how in the world did this guy know Captain Lucks–and how did know he had false teeth?”
Original story, Drowned Argosies
(pub. July 1934, in “Weird Tales” magazine)
Illustrations from around the web
Sound effects
No comments:
Post a Comment