I grew up by the sea. There, among the waves, I spent my early childhood on the rocky islands - skerries.
My homeland is famous for its good sailors, and this is not surprising - people here get used to the sea from infancy.
As soon as children learn to walk, they already climb the coastal cliffs in the morning and spend hours watching how the sea changes.
They are still running around in their shirts, but they can already tell what kind of weather the sea promises: they will suck their finger, then raise it and know - from the side where the finger touches the cold, and wait for the wind.
And as soon as they are able to lift the oar, they are already in the boat, already starting a dangerous game with the sea elements.
In my youth, I often went to sea with one pilot, my fellow countryman. He was the bravest sailor I have ever known in my life. The hours I spent with him will forever remain the happiest in my memories.
Sometimes, in a light boat we would hunt among the skerries for ducks, eiders and seals, sometimes on a sailboat we would go far out to sea to catch mackerel.
Since that time, the sea has always drawn me irresistibly towards it.
But I'm not going to indulge in dreams about the delights of sea life. I’d rather tell you a story that I heard from my old friend the pilot, and now I want to tell you.
About three years ago I came to my homeland. Together with my old friend we spent several days at sea, near the most distant skerries.
We were sailing on a large sailing ship. The crew consisted of Rasmus Olsen (that was my friend's name), the pilot's cabin boy and me.
One day at dawn we went out to the open sea to catch mackerel.
A weak breeze from the shore could not disperse the heavy fog that shrouded the skerries and bare rocks.
Seagulls flew around us with hoarse, alarming cries, swallows called to each other with shrill voices, and killer whales, as if laughing at someone, shouted out their “click, click!”
The gray-lead sea was calm, and only occasionally its frozen surface was broken by a guillemot, a diving fish or a moaning seal.
Rasmus sat at the helm, and the cabin boy kept running from bow to stern, from stern to bow.
My friend Rasmus Olsen was a tall, broad-shouldered man. His face - tanned, weather-beaten - seemed simple and good-natured, but there was something stern and intent in the look of his gray intelligent eyes. This is how a person who is used to facing danger in life looks.
When he sat - huge, stocky - at the stern, in his sou'wester pulled down to his very ears, in a wide gray-yellow jacket, shrouded in the morning fog, it seemed that this was not an ordinary person, but a Viking, appearing like a ghost from ancient legends.
True, the Vikings did not smoke tobacco, and Rasmus Olsen used it for his own pleasure.
“The wind is very weak,” said Rasmus, looking around and taking out a small, blackly smoked clay pipe from a deep pocket. “It wouldn’t even capsize a birch bark boat... Last night, at sunset, the clouds promised what a wind!” And now you can’t even gather the wind from the southwest, let alone with a sail!
“It seems to be clearing up ahead,” said the cabin boy. He worked the oar on the starboard side so that the boat would not be carried to the west by the current.
- What is clearing up there! - Rasmus grumbled. - There will be no wind until the sun rises. And then there will be more of it than we need.
However, a fresh breeze soon began to blow, so that we could lay down our oars, and our ship quickly glided towards the open sea.
The fog seemed to have melted, and we could now make out the coast and rocky islands in the bluish haze. And ahead lay an endless sea, slightly reddish under the rays of the morning sun.
And the higher the sun rose, the clearer the sky became, the fresher the wind blew from the sea.
And finally a real mackerel wind blew.
Soon we actually attacked a school of mackerel.
We cast our fishing rods and, one after another, began to pull out these silvery inhabitants of the sea.
But our joy, as always, was short-lived.
By mid-afternoon the wind had strengthened. A wave rose on the sea. The fishing rods had to be removed because the sinkers were thrown to the surface and they jumped on the waves like splinters. A squall kept hitting our shell, showering the sails and masts with salt water and foam.
Young man sat in a large hatch and dangled his legs with nothing to do. Sometimes he looked into the cabin to look at the watch, which was kept in a large red ship chest.
“He keeps admiring his watch and chest,” said Rasmus, winking slyly at me. “And to say that, it’s not for nothing that he values them.” If it weren’t for this watch and chest, he would now be lying at the bottom of the sea and feeding the fish.
- How so? — I was surprised. “How did the watch and the chest save him?” Tell me how it happened.
“Well, listen, if you want,” said Rasmus. “It happened last year in October.” A strong storm caught us, me and this sea wolf - he pointed to the cabin boy - on the open sea. I could barely hold our little boat. And suddenly I see a Dutchman coming, a Dutch ship, that means. I began to make signs for them to take us. I push the guy forward so that he can be the first to go to the Dutchman, but he is digging around for something, looking for something. Well, then a huge wave rolled onto our little boat and washed me away. I don’t remember how they pulled me out. I opened my eyes, but my boat was no longer visible. They say that she turned over, covered my cabin boy - this same shooter - and sank to the bottom. I wasn’t happy with life either. I think, how can I return to the shore without him?.. Do you know who was the first person I saw when I set foot on land? Him, my cabin boy. He holds his watch in his hands and says:
- But I still saved the watch! And they're even coming!
“Be grateful that you saved yourself,” I tell him. “Well, there’s nothing to be sorry for the boat, even though it cost me two hundred and fifty thalers.” And the sails were still brand new!.. You ask, how did he escape? But here’s how... It’s not without reason that they say: he who is not written in his birth will not drown. Yes, yes, that's how it is.
So just imagine - a brig was walking ahead of us. Suddenly the team hears someone screaming. The sailors are running back and forth - no one is there. And the scream is heard. Finally they ran up to the bow and saw a chest bouncing on the waves like a ball, my cabin boy was sitting on the chest and in one hand he was holding his watch above his head so that it wouldn’t get wet.
Well, the captain gave a signal to the helmsman: “Reverse!” - so that my sailor would not be capsized, and the sailors threw him a rope. He tied the chest with this rope, and so, together with the chest, they dragged him onto the deck.
While Rasmus was talking, the cabin boy sat with the most indifferent look, as if this did not concern him, and still dangled his legs.
Meanwhile, the wind died down and we began fishing again.
But Rasmus kept glancing at the sky and shaking his head with displeasure.
“Something is gathering again in the south,” he said, lighting his pipe. “The morning breeze is just a snack.” You'll see, we'll still have a good time! Even the fish knows this - they don’t bite anymore. And the birds, do you hear how they scream in fear? Yes, by the evening the damn weather will break out...
At this time, a dolphin surfaced right next to the side.
“Look at this impudent fellow,” said Rasmus. “He’s spinning right under his nose.” They say that trolls often take the form of dolphins and fool sailors until they sink the boat...
While talking about trolls and all sorts of evil spirits that destroy people in the sea, I remembered that in childhood I heard some fantastic story about three witches.
I asked Rasmus if he knew anything about these three witches.
- How could I not know! - said Rasmus. - But you, too, probably heard about them from me. An old man told me this story when I was a boy. He insisted that this whole story happened either to his grandfather or to his great-grandfather, who was a cabin boy on a ship. Nowadays they only laugh at such stories, as if they were hunting stories, but in the old days everyone believed in them. Well, listen. Believe it or not, this is how it happened.
This cabin boy sailed all summer with one skipper on a ship that delivered all sorts of cargo to different cities.
And when they were supposed to set off on their last voyage - it was in the fall, during the worst weather - the cabin boy was definitely replaced. He doesn’t walk around like himself, he doesn’t even want to hear about swimming.
The skipper loved his cabin boy very much, because, although he was very young, he knew seamanship very well.
He did every job easily, cheerfully, in a word, the skipper was like without hands without him. And suddenly the cabin boy flatly refuses to go to sea!
With difficulty, the skipper persuaded him to stay on the ship while loading was underway.
And then one day, when the crew was released ashore, and the skipper went to buy timber and boards - he certainly resold them at a profit! - The cabin boy was left alone on the ship.
He sits in his sailor's cabin and hears someone talking in the hold.
He looked through the crack - and there were three coal-black crows. They scold someone to the hilt, but not in crow language, but in human language.
Young froze. He immediately realized that these were witches who had turned into ravens.
- But no one hears us? - one crow suddenly said.
And from her voice the cabin boy realized that this was the skipper’s wife.
- Who can hear us? - said another.
“There is not a single living soul on the entire ship,” said the third.
I recognized Jung and these guys by their voice. These were the navigators' wives.
“Well, I’ll tell you what,” said the skipper’s wife. “It’s time for us to get rid of our husbands.” Listen to what we will do.” She jumped closer to her friends and spoke more quietly: “On the third day of their voyage, we will turn into three huge waves, wash our husbands overboard, and then sink the ship with the entire crew.”
“You came up with a good idea,” said her friends.
And the three of them began to discuss in what place it would be best to sink the ship. And since they were the wives of sailors, they knew very well where the fairway was, where the bottom was, where the depth was.
“Are you sure that no one can hear us?” - the skipper’s wife asked again.
- Yes, you know yourself that there is no one on the ship. What are you so afraid of? — the navigator’s wives reassured her.
“I’m afraid because no matter how strong we are, there is a force that we cannot overcome,” said the skipper’s wife.
- What kind of power is this? - asked her crow friends.
- Is no one listening to us? It seems to me that someone is breathing in the cabin,” the skipper’s wife said again.
- But we looked at all the corners, there is not a single person on the ship. Well, speak, speak! What do you know? What could threaten us?
- That's it. If someone buys, without haggling, three fathoms of firewood and throws it away - log after log - one fathom for each wave, then we are finished.
“But no one knows about this,” said the navigator’s wives. “So we have nothing to fear.”
They laughed loudly, croaked and flew out of the hold.
When the day of sailing arrived, the skipper again began to persuade the cabin boy to go with him.
- Maybe you're afraid of autumn storms? “It’s calmer by the stove, next to your mother’s skirt,” he said to provoke the cabin boy.
No, the cabin boy was not afraid of anything. And he, perhaps, agrees to go sailing to prove to the crew that he is not some lazy crab, but a real sailor. But here is the condition he sets: the skipper must buy, without haggling, three full fathoms of birch firewood and cede command of the ship to the cabin boy for one day. And on what day - he will tell you later.
- Where has it been heard of, that a cabin boy was trusted to command a ship! — the skipper got angry. “There’s no point in inventing nonsense!”
But the cabin boy stood his ground. Either it will be as he said, or he will remain on the shore.
In the end, the skipper agreed - he really didn’t want to part with his cabin boy.
And I thought: “Okay, we’ll clear his brains when we go to sea!”
And the first navigator thought: “Let him call the shots!” And if he drifts, we’ll teach him a lesson!”
And the second navigator has the same thing on his mind.
And so the firewood was bought, exactly as much as the seller asked was paid for it, and the ship set sail from the shore.
The sea, contrary to expectation, was quiet and calm, and the skipper kept chuckling at the cabin boy:
— The weather is just like order for our new commander!
On the third day, the cabin boy said that today he was taking command of the ship.
The sea was still calm, the sky was clear. But the cabin boy ordered the crew to fasten the sails.
Well, the skipper and all the sailors laughed at him!
- This is the commander! And when the wind blows, he will probably order the sails to be unfurled! What - clean everything up? Or can one sail be left?
“You can leave it for now, but soon the last one will have to be removed,” the cabin boy answered calmly.
And suddenly, in the middle of a clear day - no one could believe their eyes - a squall came. Yes, so strong that the ship almost capsized. And if the sails had not been removed, everything would have come to an end.
Now no one laughed at the cabin boy.
In fear, everyone looked at the huge water shaft that went straight to the ship and threatened to cover it all the way to the mast.
And the cabin boy stood on the bridge and calmly waited for the approaching wave. When the wave was already very close, the cabin boy ordered the first fathom of firewood to be thrown overboard, log after log - and certainly one at a time, not two at a time.
The team rushed to carry out his orders without further ado.
And as soon as the last log was thrown out, someone’s dying groan was heard somewhere nearby.
Then everything became quiet.
The sea has calmed down. The squall has subsided.
- Well, it's gone! - the team burst out.
“You saved the ship and saved the lives of all of us,” said the skipper. “I say this now and I will say it on the shore.”
“It’s too early to talk about salvation,” said the cabin boy. “We are facing trials worse than this.”
And he ordered the last sail to be fastened.
The second squall was even stronger than the first. No one else hoped for salvation. But when it seemed that everything was lost, and the wave, as high as a mountain, was very close, the cabin boy ordered the second fathom of firewood to be thrown overboard - log after log.
And again everyone heard a prolonged groan.
And then everything went quiet.
“Now we need to withstand the third squall,” said the young captain. “It will be the most ferocious.” Get everyone in your place!
And it’s true that the third squall was such that the first two now seemed like child’s play.
One would have thought that the entire sea had fallen on the poor little boat.
And again the cabin boy ordered to throw out the third fathom of firewood, and certainly one log at a time.
When the last log was thrown overboard, a heavy, hoarse groan was heard over the sea... Then everything became quiet. The excitement in the sea has calmed down. Only the waves turned red, as if from blood.
And the ship’s crew could not calm down for a long time. Until we arrived at the harbor, all that was talked about was about three squalls.
“And how did our cabin boy figure out that the terrible waves could be pelted with firewood?” - everyone was amazed.
But the cabin boy remained silent.
The way back was easy. Although the ship was rocking, no one paid attention to it.
Finally, the native shore opened up.
“That’s right, our wives can’t wait for us,” said the skipper.
“Maybe that squall reached the very shore,” said the first navigator. “So our wives also suffered from fear.”
“Eh, I’d rather see them,” sighed the second navigator.
“You won’t see them again,” said the cabin boy, who heard this conversation.
- What are you chattering, what are you croaking? — the skipper and both navigators attacked him.
“I’m not croaking, but your wives really wanted to croak trouble for you.”
And he told about everything that he saw and heard that day when he remained on the ship.
Indeed, upon returning home, neither the skipper nor the navigators found their wives.
No one could say what happened to them. The last time they were seen was on the eve of the storm; it was also raging on the shore. Maybe due to negligence they died during the storm? Who knows, maybe so.
While Rasmus was telling this story and many others, equally fascinating and equally improbable, evening came.
Dark, low clouds covered the sky. A thunderstorm was approaching.
Lightning either fell straight into the sea, or twisted like a snake, and then a fiery fringe flared up above the impenetrable curtain of clouds.
The thunderstorm was still far away.
The thunderclaps barely reached us, the sea was rolling in a bright, calm wave. But flashes of lightning and the crimson rays of the setting sun painted the sea blood red.
It was clear to us that we could not avoid the storm.
With the last rays of the sun, we saw a black stripe in the distance near the horizon. A little more - and a white border of whipped foam appeared on the waves.
We were surrounded by thunder and night.
And then the wind got stronger. Our boat took off like an arrow.
Soon we were already at the outermost skerries.
By the light of the lightning we saw high foamy waves crashing against the shore, and the roar of the surf sounded like thunder in our ears.
Rasmus peered vigilantly into the darkness, looking for something in it, but I could not discern anything except a white stripe of foam, towards which we were inexorably approaching.
Finally, I made out a small black dot - it was a narrow strait. We passed it and entered a quiet harbor, protected from wind and weather by high cliffs.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru