Cole Tyler

Was going through Gramps’ journal on the bus ride to Lima and came across his entry when the rain got the best of him, like it may have towards me on the Incan Trail. I think you’ll enjoy and get to know him and his temper a little bit more. Gonna grab a bite to eat with the fellas and Maya.

 

                                                April 28

Fanning Island in sight but poor signs of getting there because we are becalmed and it is raining and has rained incessantly for the last four days. It seems as though all the windows of heaven are open. There is nothing but water above us, water beneath us. In fact there is water all around and whatever light air there is hauls around the compass about three times in 24 hours keeping us busy bracing the yards continually. Add to this, short intervals of scorching rays of a torrid sun and you have all that is necessary to break down the constitution of any common man. The ship’s Mate is laid up reduced to a mere skeleton. Some of the members of the crew are sick while others are complaining of sore hands and a disagreeable feeling is pervading throughout the whole ship with signs of insubordination among the crew during the last two days. My apprehensions are anything but agreeable unless we get fair weather with the change of the moon. We have the most stubborn and unmanageable crew I ever saw aboard a ship. They are all foreigners with the exception of one and he is a devil of the first water. I am feeling unwell and am certainly not in a very agreeable mood and have but one thing to say to them and that is that they must kill before they can trample on me. I have patiently held off punishing them in a number of instances because I did not have sufficient grounds to warrant extreme measures. Today, however, forbearance ceased so I struck a real genuine John Bull on the job and sent him head first under a spare topmast. I knew he would resent the blow as soon as he could get up so I head him down, when suddenly a damn big Scotchman pinned both of my arms behind me and in two minutes I had the whole watch on top of me. The Captain came to my help and got me out of the crowd with my face in a rather lacerated state. While the Captain was between me and the men, the Scotchman who was spokesman for a part of the watch happened to edge in front of an open door in the forward house, the threshold being about 20 inches from the deck. I could get hold of no weapon to strike him so I made a spring at him and sent him backwards over the doorway. He struck with the back part of his head on a large iron boat davit. Although I am sorry for what I did if the Captain would have left me alone I would, on the impulse of the moment, placed that Scotchman at a place where he never would have pinned another man’s arms. The Captain gave me a severe lecture and put me under strict injunctions. I suppose if the man’s health had not been in a precarious state things might have looked better. I don’t care a pipe, the ship must carry me home and that is all I want from her for if ever I get on American soil once more it must be a decidedly advantageous inducement that will get me on board another ship.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 14th, 2009 at 3:37 pm and is filed under Back on Land, Gramps and The Hesperus, The Crew, The Fam, Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.