ACROSS THE EQUATOR WITH THE AMERICAN NAVY 



581 



But as the worst of the sorrow passed 

 they began to scrub the caked grime, and 

 before the Black Hazvk was in southern 

 waters they were being swung alongside 

 in cradles to paint her hull. They were 

 already critical of other ships which had 

 not been polished up. 



THE MOTHER OE THE DESTROYERS 



In the official lists the Black Hawk is 

 referred to as the tender for the de- 

 stroyers. On board she is known as "the 

 mother," and this is the better title. 



Almost anything that can happen inside 

 a destroyer can be patched up by the 

 magicians on board. The destroyers run 

 to her with their real and imaginary 

 troubles. They demand potatoes, brass 

 screws, postage stamps, tooth-pulling, and 

 sympathy. 



"What's that?" I used to groan each 

 morning in port when the steam winch 

 over my head began to bang and clank. 



"A damned destroyer," my room-mate 

 would reply with emphasis. "A double 

 damned destroyer. They spend their 

 lives getting potatoes." 



Eventually I learned that it was an 

 article of the Black Hawk's creed that no 

 destroyer ever goes to sea with more than 

 a pint of oil in her bunkers ; that any one 

 of them would cheerfully start around 

 the world on half a loaf of mouldy bread 

 and a cigarette ; that none ever carried 

 spare parts against an engine-room break- 

 down or ever indented accurately for the 

 parts when the breakdown came ; that all 

 destroyer men are idle, irreligious, im- 

 provident, and insane. 



"They make us haul their condemned 

 parts out to them in our own boats," the 

 Black Hawk would cry, wildly : "Why ? 

 Why ? Why don't they come gittim them- 

 selves ? What do they think we are ?" 



A DESTROYER IS ALWAYS "a BOAT" 



I am putting these things down for the 

 moral betterment of the destroyers and 

 to please the Black Hawk. Upon interro- 

 gating the boatmen, however — note : a 

 destroyer is always a boat ; never any- 

 thing but a boat ; to call a destroyer any- 

 thing but a boat is evidence either of 

 ignorance or malice; the Black Hawks 

 never spoke of them except as destroy- 

 ers — I learned they thought of the Black 



Hawk precisely as of a department store 

 and are venomous over her defects in the 

 matter of delivery. 



"What do they think their job is, any- 

 how?" the men of the boats inquired, 

 acidly. "It's their business to bring our 

 spuds." 



These relations, the sort of relations 

 that might be expected between a violent 

 and unlovely stepmother and a horde of 

 wild and self-willed children, are modi- 

 fied, however, by the contempt which all 

 persons, even remotely connected with 

 the boats, feel for the "inefhcients" who 

 shelter themselves from the wrath of the 

 sea on cumbersome battleships. They 

 say such persons might as well go to sea 

 on dry-docks. 



STRENUOUS EIFE ABOARD A BOAT 



A boatman feels he is just a little bet- 

 ter than other men. He lives harder, 

 with less ease, fewer hot meals, more 

 water in his boots, shorter hours of sleep, 

 and more salt in his whiskers than any 

 other seaman except, perhaps, the old- 

 fashioned schoonerman who fishes for 

 cod. He will take more chances, get 

 away with more deviltry, and has less 

 regard for the bones of his hands than 

 any other man in the navy. 



By the time the fleet began to buck 

 the January seas off Cape Hatteras it 

 had shaken down to that precision of 

 movement which was rarely disturbed 

 during the remainder of the cruise. 



Ahead of us reached the seven battle- 

 ships, plowing at one another's heels. 

 Then came the vessels of The Train, 

 under the guardianship of the old cruiser 

 Columbia, which has a quaint habit of 

 wallowing sidewise as she splashes along 

 her uncertain course. On either broad- 

 side were the lines of destroyers. 



One suffered for these thoroughbreds 

 of the sea. They are at their best when 

 permitted a speed of twenty knots or so. 

 Thirty-five knots an hour for hours on 

 end are nothing to them. At twelve 

 knots they bob and roll and swing to 

 every slant and ripple of the uneasy 

 water. 



And the fleet was pursuing its matter- 

 of-fact twelve knots an hour. That is 

 the economical cruising speed for bat- 



