Free The Sea is a Thief by David Parmelee Page A

Dreher, and his mate Platt.  The eagerness of those two crewmen was admirable indeed.  At reveille, Dreher was out of his hammock and ready on deck in less than the seven minutes that Navy regulations allowed.  His uniform was always the picture of good order.  If the man assigned to make breakfast was tardy, Dreher would step in without complaint—unusual behavior from a young seaman. Dreher even took responsibility to be sure that Platt was up and on deck when he should be.  The two joined the detail whenever it went ashore, never missing a day’s work, even when their shipmates drew very light duty on board.  Each morning, when the launch for Chincoteague was dropped, they were at the oars.
    The Ship’s Carpenter had become the unofficial spokesman for the project. Each evening when the tired and grimy men returned, the Captain would hear Dreher’s report.  Nothing could have pleased Sharpe more than the accounts of the building of fences, the digging of wells, and the patching of roofs.  The gratitude of the islanders knew no bounds—at least to hear Dreher tell it.  As time passed and the accomplishments of his crew mounted, the Captain grew less concerned about violent resistance from the island.  It even occurred to him that a commendation from the Secretary of the Navy might come his way when hostilities drew to a close.  That, he calculated, would be soon.  The end of southern rebellion would allow a happy return to New England waters for Henry D. Sharpe.
    What the Captain did not know was that Sam Dreher visited only one house on Chincoteague Island.  That house was Anna Daisey's.  He would never have guessed it from Sam's descriptions of the work being done.  Sam was familiar with every project that the crew undertook, but only because he questioned each man carefully as they returned.  Though Sam never said so, his shipmates all came to believe he was acting on the Captain's orders.  Later in the evening, after Sam had been observed reporting to the Sharpe, a word of praise might be offered to some of the crew.  Now and again, an extra rum ration would be sent around, and Sam Dreher got the credit.  Soon the connection was made: tell Sam Dreher a good story, Sam Dreher tells the Captain, and you're on the Captain's good side.  No one objected.  
    The only trouble was that Sam Dreher was never present when any of the actual work was done on Chincoteague.  Sam was with Anna Daisey.  They were repairing William Daisey's skiff while Sam was falling in love.
    Every morning when the launch tied up at the wharf, job assignments would be made, and Sam would find a reason not to be included in any of them.  Few took notice; different men came ashore each day, in greater or lesser numbers, and they set out for different parts of the island.  Each little group assumed that the ship's carpenter was somewhere else.  Only at the end of a long work day, tired and hungry, did they all reassemble, and by then they were in no mood to care.  Before they knew it, they were back on board the Louisiana , Sam had disappeared to meet with Captain Dull, and all anyone wanted was a meal and some sleep.
    Ethan Platt made sure everything went smoothly.  Ethan himself had actually caught the eye of several girls in Chincoteague, but Sam's feelings for Anna were altogether different.  Ethan had never seen Sam in such a state.  Normally he was self-assured and confident. Sam knew his trade and was on equal footing with any man, whatever his station.  Now a different Sam had emerged, like a scrawny little chick hatching from its shell.  Ethan could tell that his friend in over his head.
    â€œI can't keep coverin' for you, Sam,” Ethan complained as they lay in their hammocks one night after tattoo.
    â€œSure you can, Ethan. You've got to.  Do this for me.”  What could he say?  Nothing had ever mattered so much