The Scuttlebutt acrostic and Tally's Story

My tale of passing on the legacy and romanticism of seafarin' men.

Tell us the tale of Tally the Seaman

Hawspiper Coxswain of the Galleon Heeman

Earrings of black pearl, with no hair was he blest

 

Swallows tattooed in a cloud on his chest

Cape Horn Fever was too often his claim

Underway he whistled to the creak of the Main

Tally’s tricks lasted long into the night

Three sheets to the wind described his plight

Late one night as the tale is told

Everyone aboard heard something explode

By the by Tally’s severed head was found

Up top the wheel in the wheelhouse twas bound

The ship was wandering aimlessly downwind

This mystery’s unsolved and may never end

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The old man swayed down the wharf with a motion like the ocean.  He sat down on a barrel with a laugh and ignored the riff raff.  His plaid wool smock was weathered and worn and his flare bottom trousers were patched and torn.  His scraggly, sparse gray beard smelled as bad as it appeared. From out of his pocket came a sharp carving knife and a small partly carved shape.

A small wild-haired blond boy sat down on a rope turn at the old seaman’s feet.  He continued to carve on his cypress block.

“What’re ye makin’?” the curious boy asked.  

With one eye squinted as if into the wind, the old man slowly raised his head and grinned.  His yellow teeth bared, he appraised the lad, saw a hint of himself and his heart melted a tad.

“She’ll be a tiny version of the glorious Galleon Heeman” he explained.

What’s the Galleon Heeman?” the small boy asked.

“For three hundred years the Galleon was the foremost style of sailing ship to all of Europe for trade and for war.  The Heeman was a well known Galleon fore tis filled with mystery.”

He took out his pipe, tamped fresh tobacco with a crusty fat forefinger, struck a wooden match on the rim of the barrel he sat on, took three quick draws and peered through the smoke at the distant blue on blue horizon.

The boy waited patiently.

“I’d guess ye be wondering about the mystery?”

“Yes sir,” the boy replied politely and leaned forward a bit.

The old man folded his knife and pulled the pipe from his mouth to talk.

“Well I’ll tell what I’ve heard.  Near to three hundred years ago, as I hear’d the gory story, a seaman name of 'Tally' fell victim to a violent mischief.

Tally were a sailor’s sailor.  He spent more of his days on the rolling sea, as it were, than ever he spent on the shore.  No one really knows if Tally were his given name, that being also the Seafarin term for pulling the sheets. It’s told he was ShangHaied as a small boy and never knew a land home.

He defied death at the Horn and lived to tell of three downed ships.  He was part of the infamous Spanish skeleton crew that circled the globe on the Galleon neo Victoria.  There be only 18 men when she pulled into port in 1522.... all that was left of 225 men and 5 ships that left 37 months before.  Most thought the ship needed over 30 men to sail properly so they’d not eaten or slept for weeks.... just kept goin’ and threw over the mates who passed along the way.”

The old man seemed out of breath, paused to cough a few chokes, then relit his pipe with a sweeping flourish.

What’s a ShangHai?.. or a “neo?” the boy’s curiosity was thoroughly stirred.

The old man warmed to the story again.  “ShangHai be the practice of fillin’ out a crew before departin’ by just grabbin’ up able bodied people from anywhere and carryin’ them on board just before headin’ out.  Guess that took place when a skeleton crew arrived in China.  They didn’t care if they spoke the language of the people or not... just so’s they’d work, and learn at sea.  They couldn’t 'scape, o’ course, with water all round.”

“Ummm...now a ‘neo’s’ just the name the Spanish put before their high sea gals to say they were a newer version of the previous round backed Carracks.  They was always want’n to make them bigger, better, or faster and thought a square back with a low bow to be faster and still stable in the water.  

Now the Heeman was tole to be a four-master drawing 1000 tons and sporting six deck-mounted demi-culverin.  The gals tail was raised high into a fancy Captain’s cabin with a square gallery, a wheel house and a lateen-rigged mizzen mast above it, sometimes called the bonaventure mizzen. I do truly love those ole’ ships.”  

He could see he’d left the boys comfort zone and began again, speaking round his pipe with one eye to heaven.

“Ah, yes, well now a demi-culverin be the canon of the time.  At eleven feet long and a bore of 4 in., it  be the cause for death of many a good man and the downin’, or holein’ of many a mighty ship.

One thousand tons was large for a gal.  The average being 500 or 600 tons and the largest being 2,000 tons.  The lateen rig is a bottom boomed triangular sail.  It made the gal easier to maneuver at port or in stormy seas.

The old man emptied his pipe onto the pier and slipped it into his pocket considering the story.

The small boy was growing impatient. “What about Tally, sir?”

“Ya see, no one really know’d exactly what happened or who be responsible.  Late at night when Tally was taking a turn at the wheel a strange thing happened.  There be an explosion, that later was surmised to be a pistol.  When the watch came to investigate, he found only Tally’s head sitting on a shelf, and the wheel was bound with a rope to keep the ship meandering downwind..”

“What do you think happened?” the boy asked.

“Well, for sure Tally made enemies through his many years of adventure.  When I was a lad, I heard stories about Tally.  He was known to have a strong singin’ voice and invented songs and shanties.  It was said that he would whistle a tune to the creak of the wood masts to the distraction of others.  He was a volunteer rower when at any port requiring a dingy to transport to the beach and would sing to the rhythm of the row.  He was a practical joker, who could take a joke too far, and he tended to drink the ale whenever it was available.

Some say he never spoke of his three years ‘board the galleon Victoria and the loss of so many friends.  The trip will have tainted his mind, fer sure. 

Now, I figure the watch was catching shut eye and gave the culprit time.  The ship was passing near to a nest for the slave trade known as Sao Jorge da Mina at that time.  As well, pirates roamed those waters.  I suppose one could have boarded silently and discovered an old enemy in Tally.  Or maybe someone knew Tally was aboard the Heeman and came lookin’ fer him.

Whatever truly happened, it be stayin’ in Seaman’s lore and imagination for many a year.”

Now the boy was staring dreamy-eyed at the horizon.  His imagination was clearly caught by galleons, and mysteries, and by this strange old man of the sea.

With Tally on his mind, the old man took back out his cypress block and studied his next detail to rescue from the block.

Reviews

[Nick Erickson]

This was a truly amazing tale, one full of vivid descriptions of ships, sailors and legends.
I really enjoyed the imagery, the old man telling the young sailor the tales of the sea, knowing that in time, he would also become part of the tale through this young man.
Well done.
Well done!!

[TL Boehm]

oh this was delightful. I loved the ryhme in the first paragraph and then the break into dialogue between the boy and the old man. Awesome writing!

[Cold Coffee Magazine]

Ah what an adventureous story my kids would like this. You are a fantastic writer Papa Ed. This will soon be in my favorites vault.

The only suggestion I have is when you go to your narrative voice I would change the style of the writing to reflect a your personality. See below.

Now the wee boy was staring dreamy-eyed at the horizon. His imagination was clearly caught by galleons, and mysteries, and by this strange old man of the sea.

Is this your narrative voice and if so would you normally say the wee boy?

Hey, its just a thought and despite my suggestion your story is truely fantastic.

Dave