40 A YEAR WITH A WHALER 



bay. Sea watches were abolished and all hands 

 were called on deck at dawn and kept busy until 

 sundown. The experienced sailors were em- 

 ployed as sail makers; squatting all day on the 

 quarter-deck, sewing on canvas with a palm and 

 needle. Old sails were sent down from the spars 

 and patched and repaired. If they were too far 

 gone, new sails were bent in their stead. The 

 green hands had the hard work. They broke 

 out the hold and restowed every piece of cargo, 

 arranging it so that the vessel rode on a per- 

 fectly even keel. Yards and masts were slushed, 

 the rigging was tarred, and the ship was painted 

 inside and out 



The waters of the harbor were alive with Span- 

 ish mackerel, albacore, rock bass, bonitos, and 

 other kinds of fish. The mackerel appeared in 

 great schools that rippled the water as if a strong 

 breeze were blowing. These fish attracted great 

 numbers of gray pelicans, which had the most 

 wonderful mode of flight I have ever seen in any 

 bird. For hours at a time, with perfectly mo- 

 tionless pinions, they skimmed the surface of 

 the bay like living aeroplanes; one wondered 



