152 Crossing the Line 



1845, continued 



when you can get white; never to kiss the maid, when you can kiss the 

 mistress; to eschew water, and drink grog; hate a sojer and love a pretty 

 girl." 



(Charles Nordhoff. Man-of-war life. Cincinnati, 1856. p. 102.) 



The first edition is supposed to be dated New York, 1855, but seems to have disappeared. 

 In all editions I have seen, except the 1941 reissue, I served in windjammers, the chapter con- 

 tinues with some discussion of crossing the hne in "the halcyon days of the sea" when tars 

 "made as familiar with old Father Neptune and the Flying Dutchman, as a half-starved sojer 

 would with a bread-barge." The "captain of the maintop" spins a long yarn of a sailmaker much 

 addicted to foul language who received grim justice on crossing the Une "in the bark Sunder- 

 land, boimd from Hvill to Buenos Ayres." When the Sunderland approached the hne the sail- 

 maker "declared his intention never to see Neptime, nor submit himself to the usual cere- 

 monies." One Sunday morning he said "that he vnshed Jimmy Squarefoot might take him off 

 to perdition that minute, if he ever meant to submit to any of their gammon." 



Scarcely were the words out of his mouth before an invisible force dragged him struggling 

 and squirming "across to the lee side, and over the fore-sheet, catching and unreeving the lee 

 fore-tack as he went overboard — and that was the last we saw of him, although we heard 

 a shouting and groaning for more than ten minutes afterward." Some time after they had 

 passed the line they heard "a sound as of a heavy body falling on deck, forward." There they 

 found the sailmaker alive, but httle more. He gradually recovered but was a changed man, 

 quiet and silent, not noisy nor quarrelsome. Back in Hull he went ashore, talked with, the 

 chaplain at the Sailor's Bethel, never went to sea again, made sure that his tale to the chaplain 

 was "to be printed, but not until after his death." Some day this HuU imprint may turn up, 

 though search so far has been unrewarded. 



1849 



Saw Brava the next day [16 May 1849], and crossed the Equator on the 

 23rd. It has been one of the rules of the sea, to introduce green hands and 

 passengers to King Neptune on passing the Line. On one of my voyages 

 to India, I had some half a dozen passengers, scions of the codfish aris- 

 tocracy of Boston; they were a wild set of boys, and I was not averse to 

 the sailors' giving them a taste of old Neptune's baptism on their promising 

 me that they would be careful not to hurt them. We passed from North to 

 South latitude during the afternoon, and when the shades of evening were 

 falhng, a hoarse voice was heard ahead hailing "Ship aho-oa," to which one 

 of the old salts who was on the lookout rephed, "Halloo-oah." 



"Heave your ship to, for I am coming on board." 



The seamen now considering themselves under the immediate orders of 

 the Sea God, without any reference to me or the mates, laid the maintopsaü 

 aback, and the ship's headway was stopped. The sailors had previously 

 hoisted a barrel of water up into the foretop, leaving two of their number 

 up there with it. 



The rest of them were clustered on the forecastle, when old King Neptune 

 was seen rising up over the bows, first his cap (a mess kid [sic] bottom up 

 with a large tar brush for a plume), then a forehead of yellow metal, with 



