Gentle breezes steadily blew the Chesapeake to the south’ard, and in a few days she had cleared the Capes and was out on the broad Atlantic. Ralph Osborn made daily progress in knowledge of the ropes and sails and rigging of the ship. He quickly learned he should say gear, not ropes, and early imbibed the contempt every true sailorman has for one who says: “up-stairs,” or “down-stairs,” instead of the approved terms of “above” or “below.” Very glibly did the midshipmen adopt ship terms in their speech, and soon ship life became very natural to them. On this cruise Ralph’s duty in making and taking in sail, and in all ship evolutions, was to haul on different ropes. The third classmen did the furling and unfurling aloft. These young gentlemen scrambled up the rigging when ordered, like so many squirrels; each bent on being first up the dizzy heights, they ran with as much speed and as little concern as if they were running foot-races on the deck below; though the fourth classmen had deck stations they were all sent aloft and exercised in furling and loosing sail, and in learning the lead of the gear aloft. A lesson in seamanship was assigned each day and all midshipmen were kept constantly busy. They soon knew all about clew-lines and buntlines, tacks and sheets, and the braces, and in less than two weeks most of the midshipmen could have told where any particular gear was belayed and how it was rove, whether it was the flying jib halyards, the weather cross-jack brace, or what it was. Outside of Chesapeake Bay the ship ran into half a gale, and plunged and rolled considerably. Ralph Osborn had the usual taste of seasickness, but after recovering he delighted in the experiences he was having.

One morning late in June while Ralph was looking at the gear that belayed at the fore fife-rail, Bollup came up to him and said: “Hello, Os, what’s that you’ve got in your hands?”

“This is the main to’ bowline. I remember your saying the first day I was aboard the Santee that Himski’s name was as long as the main to’ bowline.”

Bollup grinned. “It pretty nearly is,” he remarked. “How does she reeve? I’m rusty on that particular piece of hemp.”

“Look up at the main topsail; you see we are braced high up in the wind. Now the leech of the sail is pulled forward by the main to’ bowline. Don’t you see that line running forward from that bridle on the leech of the sail? Follow it along with your eye and you’ll see it leads right under the fore top. It runs through a block hooked under the top, and then down to this fife-rail. It’s a long lead, Bollup.”

“Of course it is,” returned Bollup, “if it is as long as Himski’s name. By the way, Os, what was all the row about this morning?”

“Oh, that miserable Coleman told me to stand on my head in a slop bucket, and I told him I wouldn’t do it. Then he tried to jump me, and asked me if I didn’t intend to obey a third classman’s order. I told him I wouldn’t obey that order, I didn’t care who gave it. He then got wrathy and struck me in the face. Well, I punched him a few times good and hard; of course he’s a baby and had no show with me, but he deserved all he got. Then ‘Gruff’ Smith rushed up mad as could be. ‘Why don’t you take a man of your size?’ he shouted. ‘What are you hammering a kid like Coleman for?’ I said: ‘Mr. Smith, Mr. Coleman told me to stand on my head in this slop bucket and I told him I wouldn’t do it for a third classman or for anybody else, and I won’t. He then struck me in the face and got hit back.’ Well, Bollup, you should have seen old ‘Gruff.’ He said to Coleman: ‘You miserable idiot, if you——’”

At this instant Ralph was interrupted by a cry from the officer of the deck, repeated by the boatswain’s mates, of: “Stand by to take in the royals and topgallantsails! Lay aloft royal and topgallant-yard men! Man the royal and topgallant clew-lines and buntlines! Clear away the sheets! In royal and topgallantsails!”

At the first order the midshipmen concerned with these duties ran aloft with great speed and soon were at the dizzy heights their furling stations took them to. Before they had arrived there the sails had been clewed up and were ready to be furled. Ralph and Bollup with others had manned the weather foretopgallant clew-line, and now had returned to the fife-rail and were looking aloft, interested by the young men working one hundred and fifty feet above the ship’s deck.

Of a sudden a fearful scream, a shout of agonized terror was heard, and Ralph’s blood seemed to freeze. His horrified eyes, fastened on the weather fore royal yard-arm, saw a midshipman suddenly lose his balance and tumble backward. There was a sheer fall of one hundred and fifty feet to the deck below.

A frightful feeling possessed Ralph, he knowing that in the next instant a mangled corpse would be dashed to the deck beside him. The body came whizzing down. But look! The unfortunate midshipman in his fall struck a small iron rod used as a railing on the after rim of the fore top, and then tumbled backward. Right below him was the main to’ bowline, and he landed squarely on this. Ralph saw all this with terrified eyes. He then saw that the midshipman was clinging to the main to’ bowline with his hands and had shifted a leg over it. With quick presence of mind Ralph threw the coil of the main to’ bowline off the pin where it had been belayed, and started to slack it away. A couple of first classmen standing near jumped to where Ralph was and helped him to do this, and in a few seconds the midshipman who had fallen was safely lowered to the deck.[1]

It proved to be “Gruff” Smith. He was bruised and badly shaken up but not seriously injured and in a few days was about as usual, though his station was changed from the royal yard to the deck.

Late in the day Ralph heard a word passed: “Midshipman Osborn, report to the quarter-deck.” He went aft, wondering what he was wanted for. On the weather side of the quarter-deck he saw the captain, Commander Bolton, the executive, Lieutenant-Commander Roberts, and First Classman Baldwin. Ralph approached them uneasily, fearing that perhaps he was to receive some severe punishment for his fight with Coleman. He had never spoken to these high officers. He recognized them with awe and feared them.

“Mr. Osborn?” questioned the captain.

“Yes, sir.”

“Mr. Baldwin has reported to me that in the accident this morning you were the first to get to the main to’ bowline to lower Mr. Smith to the deck. That was well done for any one, particularly for a fourth classman; and it is gratifying that such signal proof should come of the instruction received by midshipmen. You did well, sir. Mr. Roberts, you will please give Mr. Osborn a four for this week’s mark in seamanship. That’s all, sir.”

Ralph walked away, tingling with pleasure. He had received emphatic praise from his captain for acting with good judgment during an emergency.

The midshipmen were much impressed by Smith’s fall and miraculous escape and talked of but little else for days. The time fairly flew by for Ralph. In the daytime he was kept constantly busy, either running aloft to examine different things in preparation for the day’s seamanship lesson, or else by working at prescribed tasks on deck. At night each midshipman stood (or rather stood lying down) a four-hour watch on deck. This was no hardship. The weather kept fine and it was delightful to be lulled to sleep by the easy roll of the ship with the wind blowing softly, and hearing the comfortable swish of the water against the ship’s hull.

Ralph thoroughly enjoyed the companionship of his classmates. They were a fine group of young men, full of life and spirit. Those he liked most were Bollup, Himski, Creelton, and Taylor. Creelton was an agreeable young fellow; he was engaging and sympathetic in manner and generous to a fault.

“Who are you going to room with, Os?” asked Bollup the day before the Chesapeake arrived in New London.

“Why, I’d like to room with you. What do you say?”

“Thanks, Os; I’m sure I’d find that very pleasant, but Himski and I have fixed up to room together. The fellows are all talking about who they are going to room with next year and if you have any particular choice you’d better get busy.”

Creelton now approached, and Ralph said: “Say, Creelton, what do you say to rooming with me next year?”

“Now isn’t that remarkable?” replied Creelton. “I was coming over here for the particular purpose of asking you to room with me. But it will be bully. I’d like it ever so much, Os.”

“All right, Creel; then we’ll look upon that as settled. I’m awfully glad we’re to be roommates. We’ll have a bully good time together.”

The Chesapeake was kept at sea until July 10th, when it put into New London and anchored off the old Pequot Hotel. The midshipmen were here given leave every day for two weeks; on first getting ashore they were all wild with delight and enthusiasm, but before the ship started on her homeward cruise most of them had spent all the money they had and were glad to be off. The Chesapeake left New London July 25th and was scheduled to arrive at Fort Monroe August 20th, spend a few days there, and anchor at Annapolis the 30th.

On this homeward bound cruise was shown the benefit the midshipmen had received from their previous six weeks’ work. Ralph Osborn now ran aloft boldly and went out on the highest yard-arms with perfect confidence. He could reef and furl and make all sort of knots and he felt he knew every rope aboard and where it was and what it was used for. He could heave the lead and give correct soundings, and heave the log to get the ship’s speed. The good-natured enlisted men took a real interest in giving the midshipmen information, and before the ship had returned to Annapolis it can be safely said that she had a very efficient ship’s company.

When the ship was under way, each morning at seven o’clock the midshipmen who had been on watch since four o’clock were required to run up the rigging to the top and from there up the topmast rigging over the topmast head, and then down to the deck. This was supposed to be good exercise for them and tended to make them nimble aloft.

On one cold, gray morning in the middle of August the Chesapeake was bowling along at a ten knot speed. The wind was fresh and the ship was driven into rough, heavy seas. The ship was under all sail to topgallantsails.

“By George, Os,” remarked Creelton to Ralph, after six o’clock, as the young men were having their morning coffee, “I hope the officer of the deck won’t send us over the rigging this morning; it’s awfully cold and I’m almost numb, and just see the ship roll! It’s dangerous to go aloft this weather.”

“It won’t bother us a bit after we once get started, Creel,” replied Ralph. “We’ve been over the rigging in much worse weather than this; it’s only a fresh breeze.”

“What are you two plebes yapping about?” snarled Third Classman Coleman who was standing near. “And what do you mean by loafing on the windward side of the forecastle? Oh, it’s you, is it, Mr. Osborn? You have the cheek of a right whale. Get out of here, you miserable beast.”

Ralph became angry but tried to control himself. “Take it back, Mr. Coleman,” he said; “as a third classman you may run me; I’ll stand for that, but you can’t insult me. Take it back, sir.”

“What’s all this row about?” demanded “Gruff” Smith, coming up to the group.

“Oh, this spoon of yours is cheeking me, that’s all,” sneered Coleman.

“Mr. Coleman called me a miserable beast. I told him that as he is a third classman he could run me but that he couldn’t insult me. I told him to take it back, sir.”

“And didn’t he?”

“No, he didn’t,” interrupted Coleman; “and furthermore, he won’t.”

“Well, Mr. Osborn, as a third classman I’ll apologize to you for him. Third classmen run plebes but they don’t insult them. Now see here, Coleman, if you——”

But “Gruff” Smith was interrupted by a loud order from the officer of the deck, of:

“Midshipmen of the watch on the weather sheer poles! Stand by to go over the topmast heads.”

The midshipmen divided themselves on the three sheer poles abreast the foremast, mainmast, and mizzenmast, each braced for a run, eager to be first. On Ralph’s right was a third classman named Richards.

“Now look here, Mr. Plebe; don’t you dare get ahead of me,” he said.

“No, sir,” replied Ralph.

At the order, “Lay aloft,” the young men streamed up the rigging. Richards was first and right after him came Ralph. Each went over the futtock shrouds to the topmast rigging, disdaining the lubbers’ hole, and in a moment were high up the topmast. In going over the crosstrees the ship was making a quick roll to leeward, and Richards tripped and lost his hold, and was thrown downward head first. As he half turned around in a vain effort to clutch something Ralph saw a white, agonized face, and a second later he heard a scream of, “Man overboard,” which brought terror to every heart. No fancy drill ever inspired the frightened tones of that particular cry. It was immediately followed by sharp, quick orders from the officer of the deck, Lieutenant Minturn.

“Hard down!” he shouted to the helmsman. “Let go the life-buoys! Lay down from aloft! Silence fore and aft! Every man to his station! Clear away the lee life-boat! Main clew garnets and buntlines! Weather main and lee cross-jack braces! Clear away the bo’lines! Up mainsail, brace a back!”

The six enlisted men and the coxswain forming the life-boat’s crew jumped into her. Two enlisted men rushed to the boat’s falls and commenced to lower it. They were overanxious; the man at the forward fall threw the coil off the pin; the man at the after fall did the same and both men started to lower the boat rapidly.

“Belay forrud, I’m jammed,” shrieked the man at the after fall. But in the din about the deck, men rushing about, pulling and hauling at the braces, his frightened cry was unheard, and the bow of the life-boat came down rapidly while the stern was still high in the air. In another instant a heavy sea crashed into the life-boat and wrenched it clear from the ship.

In the meantime the executive officer, Lieutenant-Commander Roberts, had rushed up from below and had taken charge. He soon had the other life-boat in the water; it immediately shoved off in the hope of picking up the men who had been swept into the sea. It found but one man. Two others had clutched the pendant of the stern Jacob’s-ladder as it trailed behind and were hauled aboard. But nothing whatever was seen of Midshipman Richards who had fallen overboard nor of the four men of the first life-boat’s crew, nor could the life-boat itself be found.[2]

An indescribable gloom settled upon the ship. Awful death had in the twinkling of an eye snatched five lives from the ship’s company. Officers, midshipmen and enlisted men went about in a subdued, quiet way. The running of plebes ceased, and there was no more pell-mell scrambling aloft.

The Chesapeake arrived at Annapolis August 28th and the upper classmen all went on leave for a month. Ralph Osborn’s classmates during this time were again quartered aboard the Santee and were drilled mornings and afternoons, and when the school year commenced, October 1st, they were all eager to begin their studies.