He was a typical tar and proved a source of
continual amusement to Paul. He had sailed a long time with the
captain of the Albatross on different ships, and the captain told Paul
that he never made a voyage but that he did not express his
determination that it would be the last one; and no matter what
occupation he could get ashore, either street cleaning or farming
he would take it in preference to going to sea again. After three days
of shore life old Joe was tired of it and always headed for some outward
bound ship. Once when Paul and Joe were leaning over the bulwarks and
gazing out on the glass-like surface of the equatorial waters in which
they were then sailing, old Joe reflectively exclaimed:
"Mister Boyton, I wish I had a hundred thousand dollars. You may be sure
that I would never make another voyage and it would save me from the
fate of many an old shell-back that is dying around now."
Joe's firm belief was that every old sailor who died, turned into a sea-
gull. Prompted by curiosity, Paul said: "Now, Joe, what is the first
thing you would purchase supposing you had one hundred thousand
dollars?"
"A quart of good Scotch whisky," promptly exclaimed Joe with a string of
oaths to confirm his assertion, and he smacked his lips in
satisfaction as though already enjoying it.
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