24 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
told them I wanted to go to sea. They would 
have found me a ship quickly enough and been 
glad of the chance to barter me off for money. 
As it was Bob and 1 started off to find the 
Sailors’ Home, which he said was on Cherry 
street, and which we eventually found at No. 
190. The atmosphere, the quaint looking signs, 
and the character of the people we met m our 
walk down Cherry avenue, as I afterward learned 
the sailors called this street, put me in mind ot 
Dickens’ writings more than any place I ever 
was in. Yellow birds, cockatoos, parrots and 
occasionally a blackbird in large wicker cages. 
The immensely fat dames and bleary-eyed rum- 
soaked males were the living images of those 
characters Dickens peopled his stories with. 
Even the dingy window panes, rickety furniture, 
and the hollows worn in the stone thresholds 
were suggestive of that greatest of all character 
writer’s works. , 
Once we saw the name Sailors Home painted 
over the doorway of a dirty little hovel, but no 
sooner did I enter the door and see the gm 
mill into which I had stepped than I knew that 
was not the home I was looking for. A fat dame, 
fathoms in circumference, sat puffing a short 
black clay pipe, and she referred me in answer 
to my inquiries to a card near the door on which 
was printed a list of all the union boarding 
houses, and here I saw the address, No. 190, of 
the home I was in search of. 
We knew it a block away by a large w'hite 
sign painted on the side of a building that low¬ 
ered several stories above its neighbors, so bid¬ 
ding Bob wait at the corner I went on up the 
broad stone steps between granite columns, four 
of which supported the face of the building to 
the height of the second story and inquired of 
several sailors, who sat tilted back in their chairs 
smoking on either side of the stairway, for 
Johnnie Walker. They told me to go on in 
He was in the office, and there I found him and 
applied for a position as able seaman on the 
bark James A. Wright. 
“Where are you stopping?” asked Johnnie. 
“With some friends over in Brooklyn.” 
He sized me up for a. second and then said, 
“Bring your bag over, she sails in a day or two. 
“All right,” said I. “I’ll have it here this 
afternoon,” and tickled to think I was at last 
as good as shipped I rejoined Bob at the corner 
in a highly delighted state of mind. _ 
He went with me out to my home in South 
Brooklyn and helped me select from the assort¬ 
ment I had, such things as we thought a common 
foremast hand would be likely to possess. The 
canvas bag into which all these were then stuffed 
was one Bob’s father Captain Edward Johnson 
had used several voyages to and from the West 
Indies in the old bark Rebecca Carnano. So 
the bag bore every indication of having been to 
sea if I did not. 
Bidding farewell to my sister, as _ my folks 
were then away at the seashore, I realized some¬ 
what the move I was making as with my bag. 
I rode on the front platform of a trolley car into 
Brooklyn, and when I reached the ferry I had 
to pocket my pride, shoulder my bag, and go in 
through the ferry house where the horses go. 
Perhaps I was making such a jackass of my¬ 
self as to warrant this, but having gone thus 
far I was not the kind to be stopped by a trifle. 
It was 3 o’clock in the afternoon when I tossed 
my clothes bag on to the Boor of the office at 
the Sailor’s Home, signed my name in the regis¬ 
ter, got a key to room No. 21, and saw Johnnie 
Walker lock my bag up in a room that was piled 
nearly full of chests, bags and old battered trunks 
lashed with rope. 
I first took a look at my room with its two 
iron bedsteads, empty bureau and two chairs, 
and could not help thinking how barren rt looked 
to my room at home. Then I went into the 
library where papers and periodicals of all kinds 
lay on the tables and cribbage, chess and back¬ 
gammon boards stood in every corner. Saunter- 
ing through the hallways I met sailors of all 
nationalities standing in groups smoking and 
spinning yarns, and then I went out to walk 
about until dark. 
T got my supper at a restaurant, and on my 
way to the home to turn in for the night I 
[Jan. 4, 1908. 
bought a little Standard diary for the year 1892, 
and the next morning in my room I made my 
first entry in it and did so every day for just 
291 days thereafter or until the day we were paid 
off at Wilmington, Del., at the end of the voyage. 
I turned out at 6 next morning, had my break¬ 
fast in the basement of the “home,” and then 
Johnnie Walker told two other men and myself 
to go to the U. S. Shipping Commissioner’s 
office, which I found to my surprise was at the 
corner of Whitehall and Pearl streets, within a 
block of the office where for several years I had 
been working. 
We found five other men with the runners from 
the boarding houses where they had been stop¬ 
ping waiting at the door for the commissioner, 
and as soon as he arrived we all followed to 
a large room on the second floor and stood out¬ 
side a railing behind which many clerks were 
busy at desks. 
As our names were called we stepped up to 
the railing and gave our ages, birthplace, etc., 
and I noticed, when it came my turn, the clerk 
put down my height, five feet eight; color of 
my eyes, blue; hair, black, and general com¬ 
plexion, dark. Then I signed my name to the 
ship’s articles where I noticed the crew num¬ 
bered eight, and with captain, two mates,_ cook 
and cabin boy made just thirteen souls in all 
to man the bark James A. Wright of 887 regis¬ 
tered tons burden for a voyage not to exceed 
two years to Valparaiso, Chili, and such other 
ports on the coast of Chili as the captain might 
direct and back to a port in the United States; 
wages $18 a month. Then I signed a note called 
an advance note which Johnnie Walker took and 
vvhich was good for two months of my pay or 
thirty-five dollars. 
When the morning of the third came around 
I could hardly control my spirits. I felt happy 
to think that at last I had accomplished my 
object and was actually bound to sea that very 
day, but at the same time I was slightly uneasy 
as to the outcome of it all. Here was I, shipped 
as an able seaman when I did not know the 
names of half the ropes. The names of the 
sails, spars and standing rigging I knew well 
enough, but that was not half of what I had 
yet to learn. There were buntlines, clewlines 
and leachlines, sheets, tacks and gaskets that I 
never dreamed of. 
After breakfast we all went into the base¬ 
ment of the building and purchased such clothes, 
beds, boots and knick knacks as we needed, the 
price of which along with our board was to be 
deducted from our first two months’. wages, the 
advance note for which had been given to our 
boarding master. He was to deduct his bill from 
it and return each man the balance after his 
account at the home had been settled. 
About 9 o’clock,' all being ready, we piled our 
bags, chests and straw mattresses into the wagon, 
climbed aboard ourselves, and with Johnnie 
Walker-driving started for Pier No. 9 and sea. 
I cannot begin to describe my feelings during 
that ride. One minute I would feel as happy 
as could be and the next I was tempted-to jump 
off the truck and run. Then as we passed Wall 
street ferry and met the crowd of business men 
coming out of the ferry house my heart went 
into my shoes. _ _ 
What would my friends think of me if they 
should see me perched up among the bags and 
chests like a common sailor along with three 
other shellbacks, one of whom was decidedly 
drunk. Surely their good opinion of me would 
not be strengthened any. Neither did I want 
my new companions to think I was any better 
than themselves by having some gentleman come 
up and sneak to me. If they should I would 
have a still harder time. But to my relief I did 
not see a face in all the crowd I knew. 
As is always the case when a ship is outward 
bound, there was a crowd on the dock to see her 
off. They closed around us as we drove along¬ 
side the bark and tossed our bags over the rail 
to see “the crowd” as a crew is called, and make 
comments on us. 
As soon as our bags struck the deck the mates 
went through them in search of bottles of runa, 
and while they were doing.it one old fellow, Jim, 
marched forward with his sea boots into the 
fo’castle and quickly hid among the beams the 
two well filled whiskey flasks that were tucked 
one into the toe of each boot. As soon as the 
search was over, and a couple of bottles of very 
poor rum had gone over the side, we were told 
to clear out the fo’castle and change our clothes. 
It was piled full of hawsers, old rope, wood 
and barrels of coal. The other four men com¬ 
pleting our crew were already aboard, having 
come from different boarding houses early enough 
to get the pick of the bunks. We piled all the 
duffle on the fore hatch and each man selected 
a bunk by tossing his clothes bag into any empty 
one he saw. I wanted an upper one, but all 
were taken, so I shoved my clothes bag into the 
lower for and aft bunk on the port side. 
[to be concluded.] 
N. Y. Y. C. Officers for 1908. 
At the annual meeting of the New York Y. 1 
C., held Thursday night, Dec. 19, the question 
of scantlings was thrown over for good, as no 
satisfactory results could be found by the com- j 
mittee apointed for that purpose. This com¬ 
mittee was discharged. 
The officers elected for 1908 are as follows: 
Cornelius Vanderbilt was elected to the position 
of Commodore for the third successive year. 
The other officers are: Vice-Commodore, 
Arthur Curtiss James; Rear-Commodore, 
Frederick F. Brewster; Secretary, George A. 
Cormack; Treasurer, Tarrant Putnam; Meas¬ 
urer, William Hallock. Regatta Committee, H. 
D e B. Parsons, Ernest E. Lorillard and Walter , 
C. Kerr. House Committee, Thomas A. Bron¬ 
son, Hunter Wykes and George A. Freeman. • 
Committee on Admission, Henry C. Ward, E. | 
F. Whitney, George A. Adee, Alexander S. 
Cochrane and J. D. J. Kelley. Library Commit¬ 
tee, Grenville Kane, James A. Metcalf and 
Charles W. Lee. Model Committee, A. Bradlee 
Hunt, Paul E. Stevenson and James Douglas 
Sparkman. Committee on Club Stations and 
Anchorages, William H. Thomas, Henry H. j 
Rogers, Cord Meyer, Augustus C. Tyler, Charles ; 
Lane Poor, Maximilian Agassiz, Alfred C. 1 
Harrison, Henry C. Ward, William Lanman 
Bull, J. Harvey Ladew and Paul G. Thebaud. j 
Larchmont’s 1908 Officers Elected. 
At a meeting of the Larchmont Y. C. mem- ! 
bers at Delmonico’s on the evening of Wednes¬ 
day, Dec. 18, Mr. A. H. W. Johnson ran for . 
the position of secretary against Mr. A. Bryan { 
Alley and was elected. Mr. Johnson received 
325 votes and Mr. Alley 125. When the an- ( 
nouncement was made Mr. Alley moved that 
the vote for secretary be made unanimous, i 
which was done. 
The full ticket elected is as follows: Com- 
modore, Wilson Marshall; Vice-Commodore, • 
John Procter Clarke; Rear-Commodore, Walter 
C. Hubbard; Secretary, A. H. W. Johnson: 
Treasurer, William Murray. Trustees (to serve 
three years)—Edward J. Greacen and George 
A. Freeman. 
The popularity of the club is well shown by 
the following list of vessels owned in the club: 
There are 832 members in the club. The fleet 
consists of 377 vessels; 23 schooners 16 auxiliary 
schooners, 143 sloops, cutters and yawls, 10 
mainsail yachts and 179 power boats. In the 
library there are 6,032 volumes. 
The 125 prizes won last season were on ex¬ 
hibition. „, , „ , 
Commodore Wilson Marshall was absent, 
owing to the recent death of his brother, Mr. 
Alfred Marshall, an old member of the. club. 
Vice-Commodore F. M. Hoyt presided. 
Bajazzo. 
The plans of the German yacht Bajazzo, re- 
nroduced herewith, are from the German yacht- 
in^ paper, The Yacht, and will give our readers 
some idea of the racing craft of the Fatherland. 
She was built in 1904 for Herman Otto Kroz- 
mann, and her dimensions are as follows: 
Length over all, 29.26ft.; load waterline, 17.58ft.; 
beam, extreme, 5-57ft.; draft, 3 6ft. 
