Hanamahina Bay, Moon Island. Laid alongside of the crashboat dock for ease in taking on stores. Winds NE & gusty as weather squally most of today.

“Grinning Jax” serves a tolerable navy grog, if a tad pricey. Still, he’s better than the tourist dives on Casino. Chatted with Edy, the crashboat’s skipper, for a bit, till she went on watch. I can savvy the pidgin of the southern islands pretty well, but that Chinook of hers still leaves me half-adrift!

Amused myself a bit listening to some peach-faced flyboys yarning over tales they’s heard of pirates acting up off of Java a week or two ago. Nothing new about that, but it did set me to thinking. Maybe it was the sight of the youngsters that got my mind to thinking back when I was still a cub.

It was aboard by first ship, the WAVERTREE. An iron-hulled 4-master making the grain run out of Australia. Her Capt. was Jonathan Matthews, & I’d signed papers as the ship’s boy. We’d hit some nasty weather crossing the Indian Ocean, & had taken enough damage that the Capt. put into a small anchorage off the west coast of Madagascar for repairs & re-fitting. All of that being at last done, & having some business ashore himself with the local authorities, Capt. Matthews decided to grant the crew a night’s liberty. For a Badger, Matthews was a kind Master. Still, some hand had to stay behind as anchor watch, & as ship’s boy I was the least ranking & pulled the job. I was to shoot off a flare & lay heavy on the ship’s bell if anything serious developed, but otherwise I’d be expected to look after matters myself.

I was near the bow when, shortly after dark, there was a bump to the portside. I peered over the gunwale & could just make the shape of a small boat along side of us. While I couldn’t make out how many were aboard her, ther seemed a good number of them. I also caught the glint from one of our anchor lights off of a cutlass blade. Our iron hull seemed to be taking them aback, but I knew it only bought me a few extra minutes at best. We were unarmed (who’d attack a grain ship?) but I knew of a few odds & ends that might be of use. I hotfooted to the Carpenter’s Mate’s locker & grabbed a big bag of tacks! I scattered them about the deck where I thought they’d do the most good, and then took up a bull’s-eye lantern & the ships old flare-gun & waited with the lantern shuttered up tight. It was hardly a minute after when there came a caterwauling from up forward where the tacks were doing their job! I stepped up & threw open the lantern, while pointing the lantern at the sorriest bunch of would-be pirates you could imagine! Some pack of ground squirrels or rodents I couldn’t place. The biggest was maybe 2/3 of my size & hardly up to my own age yet, holding an old Navy cutlass in a shaking hand while staring down the 3-inch brass barrel of what he must have thought was a man-o-war’s cannon! Fortunately he didn’t see how hard it was shaking too, and with a yelp he dropped the old sword & bounded right over the side! The rest were fast behind him, leaving a few rusty knives & clubs behind among the tacks while they were heading for shore as fast as they could swim!

I kept the cutlass as a souvenir, & found some good use from it over the years. It’s aboard the RED WOLF  even now! The rest of the debris went over the side after it’s owners, & I made sure every last tack was back in the Carpenter’s Mate’s locker before the shore party returned.

After I made my report to Capt. Matthews, & he’d finished laughing, he owned that the trick with the tacks I’d used was a pretty old one, but he was glad to see it still worked as well as ever! And I was glad that I could make the proper answer when he asked if I’d left any of them still strewn about on his deck. But, when he asked if the flare-gun & rocket were properly stowed, I was set back on my heels! Sink me, if in all the excitement, I’d never thought to load that old flare-gun!
       G.