Free Timothy of the Cay by Theodore Taylor Page A

Theismann
until Luther Oisten, the boatswain, boss of the deck, issued him a blanket and the cook handed over a tin plate, fork, and knife.
    His board-slatted bunk, soiled straw-filled mattress, and stained pillow were in the cramped pineboard fo'c'sle, in the forward end of the ship, which was also quarters for five other sailors. A table and two benches were against the after bulkhead. The room smelled of sweat but compared to Back o' All it was rich-man living.
    Aft of the fo'c'sle was the galley, with a sliding panel, the "pie hole," for food to be passed through. The food was good beyond belief. Timothy had helped load it.
    But the first words that the bo'sun said to Timothy were harsh: "Yuh jump when I tell yuh, nigra boy. Yuh green as soursop, an' watch yuh step on deck less yuh die out dere..." He was a slim, thin-nosed Bajan from Barbados Island, in the Windwards above Trinidad and Tobago. With a few cups of
bukra
blood in him, his skin was more brown than black. He wore a sheathed knife at his right hip.
    "Yes, sirrah," Timothy replied, standing stiffly, already frightened of Luther Oisten.
    "Now, turn to," Luther ordered. "Go to work, loadin' stores."
    Timothy had always heard that second mates and bo'suns, often one and the same on sailing ships, were naturally mean. Too well he remembered Nyborg, of the
Amager.
Maybe they had to be mean to survive. The white chief mate, Tanner, had seemed pleasant enough, as had the captain. They left the bully talk to the Bajan.
    When the Bajan moved off, Horace Simpson, the oldest of the four Negro sailors, suggested, "Do as he tell yuh." White-haired Horace Simpson, from Alabama, reminded Timothy of Charlie Bottle. He was short and stocky.
    Timothy said, "Yes, sirrah," though ordinary sailors were never sirs.
    The only white man in the fo'c'sle was Phelps. Bewhiskered, face like an ax, he dipped snuff. He'd hurt his foot and wasn't able to go aloft. Horace said of him, "Worthless."
    Thomas Sanders was the cook-steward. He not only cooked but took care of the captain's and mate's cabins. The final crewman was ship's carpenter Deets, another white man, in charge of the steam-deck engine, which hauled up the sails, ran the pumps, and occasionally heaved in the anchors. He slept in the carpentry shop.
    Those were the
bukras
and the blacks aboard the
Theismann.
Eleven of them, including the master.
    She'd loaded coal in Virginia, twenty-five hundred tons of it, and had off-loaded six hundred in St. Thomas. She'd also off-loaded general cargo boxes. In Rio, she'd pick up bagged coffee after cleaning her holds of anthracite dust. Deliver to a Philadelphia warehouse.
    Now it was time to sail south.
    Timothy had been unable to sleep during the night and heard the cook stirring next door even before cockcrow. A smell of wood smoke soon crept into the fo'c'sle, then a stronger whiff of burning coal; and finally, Luther, a dim figure in the open doorway, shouted, "Turn to!" and the snoring in the fo'c'sle stopped abruptly.
    Timothy washed his face in a bucket of lukewarm water on deck and helped ready the ship for sea until breakfast was called. A pot of oatmeal was passed through the pie hole, followed by a slice of ham and one egg each, boiled potatoes, bread, and a pot of coffee. Timothy had never eaten so well.
    As dawn came up, feathery golden clouds to the east, there was a head of steam in the donkey engine boiler; the halyards were laid out and coiled, ready to pull sails up; the
Glory
came alongside, and the captain gave orders to depart.
    ***
    Timothy saw Tante Hannah standing on the wharf in the thin new light and waved to her, proud that she'd seen him at work singling up the mooring lines. He fought back tears, knowing it might be months before he'd see her again.
    The towing hawser was passed to the
Glory
and the bark separated from land.
    Within minutes, halyards were bent around the gypsyheads on either end of the winch, powered by the donkey engine, the Bajan yelling,