9. CHAPTER IX.
OF THE POCKETS THAT WERE IN THE JACKET.
I must make some further mention of that white jacket
of mine.
And here be it known—by way of introduction to what is
to follow—that to a common sailor, the living on board a man-of-war
is like living in a market; where you dress on the doorsteps,
and sleep in the cellar. No privacy can you have;
hardly one moment's seclusion. It is almost a physical impossibility,
that you can ever be alone. You dine at a vast
table d'hôte; sleep in commons, and make your toilet where
and when you can. There is no calling for a mutton chop
and a pint of claret by yourself; no selecting of chambers for
the night; no hanging of pantaloons over the back of a chair;
no ringing your bell of a rainy morning, to take your coffee in
bed. It is something like life in a large manufactory. The
bell strikes to dinner, and hungry or not, you must dine.
Your clothes are stowed in a large canvas bag, generally
painted black, which you can get out of the “rack” only once in
the twenty-four hours; and then, during a time of the utmost
confusion; among five hundred other bags, with five hundred
other sailors diving into each, in the midst of the twilight of
the berth deck. In some measure to obviate this inconvenience,
many sailors divide their wardrobes between their hammocks
and their bags; stowing a few frocks and trowsers in
the former; so that they can shift at night, if they wish,
when the hammocks are piped down. But they gain very
little by this.
You have no place whatever but your bag or hammock, in
which to put any thing in a man-of-war. If you lay any
thing down, and turn your back for a moment, ten to one it
is gone.
Now, in sketching the preliminary plan, and laying out the
foundation of that memorable white jacket of mine, I had had
an earnest eye to all these inconveniences, and resolved to
avoid them. I proposed, that not only should my jacket keep
me warm, but that it should also be so constructed as to contain
a shirt or two, a pair of trowsers, and divers knickknacks
—sewing utensils, books, biscuits, and the like. With this
object, I had accordingly provided it with a great variety of
pockets, pantries, clothes-presses, and cupboards.
The principal apartments, two in number, were placed in
the skirts, with a wide, hospitable entrance from the inside;
two more, of smaller capacity, were planted in each breast,
with folding-doors communicating, so that in case of emergency,
to accommodate any bulky articles, the two pockets in
each breast could be thrown into one. There were, also, several
unseen recesses behind the arras; insomuch, that my
jacket, like an old castle, was full of winding stairs, and mysterious
closets, crypts, and cabinets; and like a confidential
writing-desk, abounded in snug little out-of-the-way lairs and
hiding-places, for the storage of valuables.
Superadded to these, were four capacious pockets on the
outside; one pair to slip books into when suddenly started
from my studies to the main-royal-yard; and the other pair,
for permanent mittens, to thrust my hands into of a cold night-watch.
This last contrivance was regarded as needless by
one of my top-mates, who showed me a pattern for sea-mittens,
which he said was much better than mine.
It must be known, that sailors, even in the bleakest weather,
only cover their hands when unemployed; they never wear
mittens aloft; since aloft, they literally carry their lives in
their hands, and want nothing between their grasp of the
hemp, and the hemp itself.—Therefore, it is desirable, that
whatever things they cover their hands with, should be capable
of being slipped on and off in a moment. Nay, it is desirable,
that they should be of such a nature, that in a dark
night, when you are in a great hurry—say, going to the helm
—they may be jumped into, indiscriminately; and not be like
a pair of right-and-left kids; neither of which will admit any
hand, but the particular one meant for it.
My top-mate's contrivance was this—he ought to have got
out a patent for it—each of his mittens was provided with
two thumbs, one on each side; the convenience of which
needs no comment. But though for clumsy seamen, whose
fingers are all thumbs, this discription of mitten might do
very well, White-Jacket did not so much fancy it. For when
your hand was once in the bag of the mitten, the empty thumb-hole
sometimes dangled at your palm, confounding your ideas
of where your real thumb might be; or else, being carefully
grasped in the hand, was continually suggesting the insane
notion, that you were all the while having hold of some one
else's thumb.
No; I told my good top-mate to go away with his four
thumbs, I would have nothing to do with them; two thumbs
were enough for any man.
For some time after completing my jacket, and getting the
furniture and household stores in it; I thought that nothing
could exceed it, for convenience. Seldom now did I have occasion
to go to my bag, and be jostled by the crowd who were
making their wardrobe in a heap. If I wanted any thing in
the way of clothing, thread, needles, or literature, the chances
were that my invaluable jacket contained it. Yes: I fairly
hugged myself, and reveled in my jacket; till alas! a long
rain put me out of conceit of it. I, and all my pockets and
their contents, were soaked through and through, and my
pocket-edition of Shakspeare was reduced to an omelet.
However, availing myself of a fine sunny day that followed,
I emptied myself out in the main-top, and spread all my goods
and chattels to dry. But spite of the bright sun, that day
proved a black one. The scoundrels on deck detected me in
the act of discharging my saturated cargo; they now knew
that the white jacket was used for a store-house. The consequence
was that, my goods being well dried and again stored
away in my pockets, the very next night, when it was my
quarter watch on deck, and not in the top (where they were
all honest men), I noticed a parcel of fellows skulking about
after me, wherever I went. To a man, they were pickpockets,
and bent upon pillaging me. In vain I kept clapping my
pockets like nervous old gentlemen in a crowd; that same
night I found myself minus several valuable articles. So, in
the end, I masoned up my lockers and pantries; and save the
two used for mittens, the white jacket ever after was pocketless.
