Captain Jim and the British Law

Patillo made three fishing trips in eighteen forty-one, For mackerel and herring, costing four pence every ton— What the British call "light money," for the privilege to fish In Nova Scotia waters, more or less against their wish. On the third trip, one Miss Cantrill finally persuaded Jim To transport her home to mother, which was difficult for him. It was positively illegal for a fishing boat to take Passengers to foreign harbors, even though for pity's sake. Captain Jim was sympathetic, for the girl had lost her dad, So he landed her at Canso and her mother's heart made glad. In kindness he conveyed her, safely rowing her ashore, While his vessel lay unanchored, as it often had before. When Patillo reached his schooner, to his great surprise he found Customs officer, named Bigelow, pacing angrily around. "Here," said B, "I'll take this vessel as a prize, without delay," And upon the sturdy mainmast, nailed the king's broad "R" to stay. "What's all this?" said Jim Patillo, furious to see this man Seizing his accomplished schooner, like some ugly charlatan. "Hand the papers here," said Bigelow, "of the _Abigail_, because Landing passengers at Canso violates the British laws. "You must compensate me—I command you," added he, "For I'm master of this vessel, for your great deficiency." "Very well," said Jim Patillo, "if this really is the case, You must pay the same 'light money,' definitely, in my place. "And I want your legal papers, giving you authority To appropriate this schooner, with such blatant piracy!" Bigelow had left his papers on the family mantlepiece, And the more he contemplated, greater did his rage increase. He must exercise his power-show this unabashed young man, Such rude talk demanded chiding and was contrary to plan. "I will stand no ribald insults from an overbearing Yank, On fishing boat or merchant ship, no matter what his rank! "Hard down the helm - and speedily!" he told John Parsons next, But Captain Jim was listening hard and definitely vexed. "Hold on!" he shouted, "While I'm here, I'm master of this ship! Hard up the helm - and quickly, John; we'll make another trip." Then Jim seized raging Bigelow by neck and trouser seat, And dropped him in his waiting boat which started to retreat. "Now row ashore," Patillo called and headed out to sea, Unmoved he'd agitated legal animosity. The man was wild with anger and made virulent complaint Of _Abigail_ for smuggling, and with minimum restraint, Sent three stalwart British cutters in pursuit of dauntless Jim, Who persisted catching mackerel, unsolicitous of him. Jim filled seventy full barrels and collected giant rocks, Which he hoped in pressing crises, he could use for stumbling blocks. He continued unmolested, calm and guardedly remote, Till an angry gale approached them and Patillo turned his boat Towards Port Hood and in the harbor found the Gloucester fishing fleet, Trusting Bigelow would miss him if he were not indiscreet. As the wind grew more ferocious, Captain Marshall and eight men Started looking for Patillo whom they hoped to meet again. Big Jim seized his ammunition and with rocks in either hand, Dared them boldly to attack him till they disappeared towards land, To discuss the situation with the main authorities, And returned with loaded muskets to collect their proper fees. Knowing they would surely catch him if he lingered in the bay, Jim gave orders to make ready to get quickly underway. Furiously the gale was howling but Patillo set to sea, With the help of nearby skippers, Ben Laroque and John Bayley. All the fleet were closely watching, interested in Big Jim's scrape, And the enemy pursuers who'd prevent him from escape. "Best of luck!" they loudly shouted, as he steered his able ship Straight into the roaring tempest, starting on his homeward trip. To decamp to greater safety, Jim did sorrowfully discern That the _Abigail_ would have to sail beneath the cutter's stern. All her guns were plainly loaded and her men were standing by, Hoping they would intercept her and her skipper terrify. As they passed, the cutter fired through the mainsail- hard and fast, Ten more bullets fell around them-one lodged firmly in the mast; Nonchalantly, Jim Patillo ordered all his anxious crew Down below, and very shortly, not a man was left in view. Then the big audacious captain, flat upon the schooner's deck, Steered her through the flying gun-shot, which he could not countercheck; Straight into the raging tumult, still pursued by shot and shell, While his friends who lay at anchor sorrowfully wished him well. Banged and rigorously battered, _Abigail_ set out to sea, Till the cutter grew discouraged and with great celerity Hastened home to reconnoiter till the hurricane abate, And Patillo, badly beaten, would surrender to his fate. What a night in Port Hood harbor! All the Gloucester fishing fleet Rowed around the vanquished cutter, trumpeting her dark defeat. From the band they'd made impromptu, patriotic airs rang out Far across the troubled waters, towards the _Abigail_, no doubt. Fife and drum proclaimed the triumph of courageous Captain Jim, And they chanted "Yankee Doodle" with most disconcerting vim. "Jim Patillo is a sailor!" Loud they hollered to the sea. "And he's headed straight for Gloucester- safe and sound, undoubtedly." True, for Jim was sailing homeward, under balanced reefed mainsail, And a two-reefed foresail, speeding Abby forward through the gale. Such a storm he'd long remember, for his vessel pitched and tossed With such wild precipitation, fortunately none was lost. "Quite a trip!" said Jim Patillo, when he spotted Thatcher's Light. "Now that this exploit is ended, I shall sleep in peace tonight." So he brought his load of mackerel safely in again that year, With a tale of true adventure, worthy any buccaneer. Captain Jim Patillo prospered, and his daring, skill and grit Left a permanent impression, all good Gloucestermen admit. With the never-failing courage of his own convictions, Jim Held his guns without retreating-give us more strong men like him!