Captain Sam Smith Quotes in Carry On, Mr. Bowditch
Ben yawned, stretched, and led the way through the shop to where huge coils of rope were stashed. He leaned against a barrel. “Nat Bowditch, eh? I’ve heard of you. Master Watson’s brightest student you were.” He shook his head dolefully. “And now you’re becalmed. Just like I was at your age. Wouldn’t think to look at me I was bright as a dollar once, would you? But I was. Wanted to make something of myself. But I didn’t have a chance. Taken out of school, I was. Just like you. When I look at you, I can see myself as I was thirty—forty years agon. Becalmed I was. Just like you.”
Behind Nat a deep voice rumbled, “Avast there, Ben Meeker! Stow that gab about being becalmed! […] Only a weakling gives up when he’s becalmed. A strong man sails by ash breeze!”
Nat was silent for a moment. “Maybe, sir, it’s because I want to pay a debt I owe to the men who helped me; men like Sam Smith and Dr. Bentley and Dr. Prince and Nathan Read. Maybe that’s why. Or maybe it’s just because of the men. We have good men before the mast, Captain Prince. Every man of them could be a first mate—if he knew navigation.”
Captain Prince muttered something under his breath. “An odd business!” he said. “But I’ve never had less trouble with a crew. Carry on, Mr. Bowditch!”
[…] Someone tapped on the door, and Monsieur Bonnefoy entered, smiling. “I have a confession to make […]. I was eavesdropping through the skylight […]. Monsieur Bowditch—he has the magnificent spirit! It is worthy of the French Revolution! Liberty! Equality! Fraternity!”
[Polly] looked at Nat with glowing eyes. “It’s really you! Captain Bowditch, F.A.A. and A.M., I’m very proud of you!” She blinked back sudden tears. “Oh, Nat, it’s been so long!”
Nat’s arm tightened around her. Somewhere out of the past a voice whispered, “A long time to sail by ash breeze.”
“Was it awfully hard?” Polly asked.
“Not too bad, Nat told her. “Rough weather sometimes. But I’ll say this for it—I was never becalmed!”
Captain Sam Smith Quotes in Carry On, Mr. Bowditch
Ben yawned, stretched, and led the way through the shop to where huge coils of rope were stashed. He leaned against a barrel. “Nat Bowditch, eh? I’ve heard of you. Master Watson’s brightest student you were.” He shook his head dolefully. “And now you’re becalmed. Just like I was at your age. Wouldn’t think to look at me I was bright as a dollar once, would you? But I was. Wanted to make something of myself. But I didn’t have a chance. Taken out of school, I was. Just like you. When I look at you, I can see myself as I was thirty—forty years agon. Becalmed I was. Just like you.”
Behind Nat a deep voice rumbled, “Avast there, Ben Meeker! Stow that gab about being becalmed! […] Only a weakling gives up when he’s becalmed. A strong man sails by ash breeze!”
Nat was silent for a moment. “Maybe, sir, it’s because I want to pay a debt I owe to the men who helped me; men like Sam Smith and Dr. Bentley and Dr. Prince and Nathan Read. Maybe that’s why. Or maybe it’s just because of the men. We have good men before the mast, Captain Prince. Every man of them could be a first mate—if he knew navigation.”
Captain Prince muttered something under his breath. “An odd business!” he said. “But I’ve never had less trouble with a crew. Carry on, Mr. Bowditch!”
[…] Someone tapped on the door, and Monsieur Bonnefoy entered, smiling. “I have a confession to make […]. I was eavesdropping through the skylight […]. Monsieur Bowditch—he has the magnificent spirit! It is worthy of the French Revolution! Liberty! Equality! Fraternity!”
[Polly] looked at Nat with glowing eyes. “It’s really you! Captain Bowditch, F.A.A. and A.M., I’m very proud of you!” She blinked back sudden tears. “Oh, Nat, it’s been so long!”
Nat’s arm tightened around her. Somewhere out of the past a voice whispered, “A long time to sail by ash breeze.”
“Was it awfully hard?” Polly asked.
“Not too bad, Nat told her. “Rough weather sometimes. But I’ll say this for it—I was never becalmed!”