Although their new home was in Alabama, Arthur’s first years wouldn’t see much of the land for the young family sailed with the captain who was his father. It was a world surrounded by water that was to cement itself in his memory as the earliest definition of home that Arthur would know. Conceived on the ocean it was only natural that the sea-legs he was born to have would carry him through his first steps over the rolling deck of the freighter his father commanded as it sailed over the gentle swells of the sea. But the years would pass quickly and Edvard would soon reach the age for schooling so mother and sons left the ship to make their home ashore in the lazy-warm southern days of Mobile Alabama. Their sailing days would be restricted to the summer months when school was out and it was at sea where Arthur believed that he was truly home. He spent his days exploring the ship which was his backyard. At eight years old he climbed the ladder to the top of the foremast not knowing that he was being observed from the wheelhouse by his father who summoned him to the bridge the moment he got back down. Expecting to be punished for going where he didn’t belong he found himself catching “holy-hell” only for climbing the ladder by holding the rungs which could be rusty and easily break. Any good sailor knows, his father admonished, that you must always hold on to the sides of the ladder and in the future he better see his son observing that safety precaution when he decides to climb a mast. He was then sent to the ship’s carpenter to find some work to help with. While children on the land had their chores to help out around the house a ship-captain’s children were given chores to help out with the sailor’s duties and Arthur soon found a good friend and teacher in helping the ship’s carpenter.
For two little boys the economic crash of 1929 wouldn’t diminish their enthusiasm for Christmas. Their house was fragrant with the scent of fruitcakes, nut breads and the sweet and spicy aroma of their mother’s fatigman, a traditional Norwegian Christmas cookie. Packages sat in the corner, wrapped and waiting, for the tree the boys would cut themselves although they would wait until the last moment to put it up in hopes that it would remain fresh for their father’s return from sea just a few weeks after the holiday. He had been at sea for many months shuttling cargo between European ports but he was homeward bound now and the boys were looking forward to seeing him again. A letter had come just a week before Christmas with stories of the sea and foreign ports and a special note for each son. He missed them terribly and wished he could be home for the holiday and although his vacation wouldn’t begin until the end of this trip he would still be home for Arthur’s tenth birthday in March. It had been over six months since they last saw him and they were all anxious for the reunion. He hinted of a wooden crate full of gifts for everyone and how much he looked forward to bringing it home. So their Christmas tree would remain decorated for the homecoming and for two happy little boys Christmas would come twice.
Sailing from Hamburg under a dark winter sky the captain stood on the bridge-deck thinking of home and also thinking of the weather he was sailing toward. Not far to the west lay a low pressure center, halted by the higher pressures standing in the way. The air moving around the center, being swung around harder and faster, was building the storm’s power even greater. The captain knew he couldn’t make any headway in this weather and that it was only a matter of staying hove-to until it blew over. The seas rolled eastward and the wake of the ship soon disappeared as the sea gained momentum and power. Looking into the low hanging clouds, his face showing that he was deep in his thoughts, he sent up a silent prayer for the safe voyage that would return him to his family. His only answer was the wind whistling and howling through the rigging. Suddenly one swell loomed up ahead, larger than the others. The bow, having just been lifted high over the last wave, was turned down into the trough driving the next wave right into it almost to bury the entire forward end of the ship. The captain called orders to the mate to reduce the speed five more revs but to himself muttered a hope that the storm wouldn’t build up anymore as he barely had steerage-way already. With added fury the waves rushed on, hitting the deck with thundering crashes, but even a storm cannot stop the work that must be done on board ship and the captain took it as his own responsibility to check hatch-covers and lashings first hand. Wearing his fowl-weather gear and grasping the life-line that was strung from the ladder to the main deck and along the hatch coamings he made his way down to the deck. Taking hold of yet another line he continued on to the foc’sle head to make certain that the deckload was stable and check the lashings before he would take his leave to the galley for supper.
At home, it was only four days before Christmas and preparations were well under way. A long and colorful paper chain was strung from one end of the living room to the other. Paper snowflakes adorned the windows, belying the mild weather of the south. The storm, so furious in the mid-Atlantic, wasn’t even known to the folks in Mobile. School had ended for the winter break and report cards were proudly displayed among the few Christmas cards they had. The house was warm and fragrant with spices as the fruitcake had finally been released from it’s rum-soaked bondage when a young courier rode up to their porch on his bicycle with a telegram bringing news that would forever change their lives. The boy’s father, their mother’s husband, had disappeared from the ship. Lost at sea, he was last seen climbing down to the deck to check the load and it was assumed that he had been washed over by a wave. He was missed in the officer’s galley during supper but by that time he had long disappeared into the sea.
Arthur’s tenth birthday came the following March but instead of celebrating it with his father home on vacation he found himself once again on board ship with his mother and brother steaming their way back to Norway, where they would live until he once again boarded a steamship as a deckhand only 7 years later.
This concludes the first chapter of my father's life ~ To be continued.....
(c)2005
http://www.essentialbliss.etsy.com/
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