We Didn't Mean to Go to Sea - Arthur Ransome Swallows And Amazons

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before turning in.

      “John,” came the skipper’s voice from the cabin, and John jerked back to real life. “Your watch below. Come on down. I’ll be asleep the moment I put my head on the pillow, and it won’t be much fun to be waked by you trampling about on the top of me while you’re getting into your bunk.”

      John went down. Roger had been tucked up on the port bunk, but in the light of the cabin lamp John could see a bright and wakeful eye. Jim was sitting on the starboard bunk, where John’s blankets were waiting for him. Looking through into the fore-cabin, John could see a lump under the blankets in each bunk. . . Titty and Susan ready for sleep.

      “Sorry,” he said, “I won’t be a minute,” and while the skipper went up on deck to make sure that all was well with the riding light, he tore off his clothes, got into his pyjamas, stuffed the clothes into a heap under his pillow, and wriggled into bed.

      The skipper came down and took his shoes off.

      “Aren’t you going to undress?” said Roger.

      “No,” said Jim.

      “Gosh!” said Roger.

      “Somebody’s got to be on hand,” said Jim. “I’m anchor watch really. But I’m going to sleep just the same. Where’s the big torch?” He found it, blew out the cabin lamp, lay down, and rolled the blankets about him on the cabin floor.

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      They slept. The night was so calm that it was hard to believe that the Goblin was afloat. It was an hour later before they were reminded that they were sleeping in a ship and that she was very near the open sea.

      A drumming noise broke the stillness. Suddenly the Goblin seemed to be picked up, flung aside, and picked up again. Everybody was awake in a moment.

      “What’s happened?” said Roger.

      The white light of the big torch shone upwards from the cabin floor.

      “Steamer going out from Parkeston,” said Jim. “Sorry. I forgot to warn you. There’ll be another in a minute or two. . . There she goes. . . One for Holland and one for Denmark. . . They go out every night.”

      Again the Goblin was violently rocked in the wash as the second steamer went by. Roger, kneeling in his bunk, holding on by the shelf behind it, caught just a glimpse of the steamer’s blazing lights.

      INSIDE THE GOBLIN

      “I wonder if those porpoises’ll be seeing them,” he said, as he settled again under his blankets. No one answered him. A few minutes later the Goblin had stopped rolling, and the only sound to be heard in her cabin was the quiet breathing of her sleeping crew.

      “NOTHING CAN POSSIBLY HAPPEN”

      SPLASH! Splash! Splash! Splash!

      It was seven o’clock in the morning and they had been waked by a shout down the forehatch, “Rouse up there, the watch below. Anybody want a dip? No time to spare, if we’re going down the harbour before the tide turns.” Jim was already on the foredeck, in bathing things. There had been a hurried rush to join him.

      “Now then,” he said, and dived.

      But there were four splashes only. John, Susan, Titty and their skipper came up with the taste of salt water in their mouths, shaking their heads and blowing like seals.

      “Come on, Roger,” said John.

      “It’s waste not to use the ladder,” said Roger.

      Jim had slung a rope ladder over the side, and fastened it to the shrouds to make it easy for people to climb aboard again. Roger meant to use it both ways.

      “Go on, Roger! Head first!” said John.

      But Roger was already on the lowest step of the ladder and was feeling the water with the toes of one foot.

      “It isn’t very cold, really,” he said.

      “It’s boiling,” said Titty. “Come on.”

      Roger lowered himself into the water, let go of the ladder, and swam to join her.

      “Don’t forget the ebb,” said Jim, bobbing up close beside them. “Keep close to the ship, and keep swimming. I don’t want to have to come rowing after you in the Imp if you get swept away. Go on. Swim hard, against the tide. Just a dip and out again. We can have another later on. . . There’s no time now. We ought to be sailing.”

      Susan was already at the ship’s side, hanging on to the ladder.

      “Out you come, Roger,” she said. She climbed up with the help of the shrouds, grabbed one of the towels she had left on the foredeck, and began a rub down.

      One after another they joined her, and the foredeck rained with water.

      “Come on, Titty,” said Susan. “We’ll get into our clothes in the cockpit. No good bringing half the North Sea into the cabin.”

      “It isn’t the North Sea,” said Titty. “It’s only the river.”

      “Just as wet,” said Susan cheerfully. She had been a bit bothered about that bathing from the anchored Goblin. Roger had been able to swim for some time now, but swimming in deep water, with the tide ready to carry you away if you gave it a chance, was very different from swimming in the lake. She was a good deal relieved to have everybody safe back aboard. Now she would get those burners lit and make them start the day properly with a solid breakfast.

      But that was not to be. She was hardly dressed and down in the cabin filling the kettle before Roger, a pink savage with a towel round his middle, crawled aft along the cabin roof and looked down at her through the companion-hatch.

      “I say, Susan,” he said. “Please pass up my clothes and John’s. Jim’s got into his already and they’re just going to hoist the mainsail.”

      “Oh, look here,” said Susan. “They can’t start with nothing to eat after bathing.”

      “I thought so too, “ said Roger. “But Jim says there isn’t time to wait for it.”

      Susan put her head out, to see Jim, fully dressed, and John a kilted savage like Roger, busy with the ropes at the foot of the mast.

      “You must have breakfast first. . . ” she began, but they were thinking of quite other things.

      MORNING DIP

      “Good,” said John. “Susan’s ready.”

      “Hang on to that crutch, Mate Susan,” called Jim, “and slack away a little mainsheet.”

      In a ship, orders are orders, and Susan took hold of the crutch, and Titty, who had been squeezing bathing clothes over the side, let out some mainsheet, and they saw the boom cock up over their heads.

      “Breakfast,” began Susan again. “You must have some thing to eat before starting.”

      “Have it when we’re under way,” called Jim. “Here you are, John, hold on to that while I get the main up. Susan! Can you just cast off that tyer, just above your head?”

      The mainsail, fold on fold, was lifting off the cabin top. Roger had scrambled out of the way. The sail was up. Susan heard Jim say, “Slacken away the topping lift. That’s right. . . ” and then, “Hullo, there, Mate Susan. Stand by the tiller, will

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