Ship Captain's Daughter Read Online Free Page A

“Your dad is going to be the captain. After twenty-seven years on the deck, your dad is going to be ‘The Old Man!’”
    â€œWow!” I said, as enthusiastically as I could.
    Of course, I knew this was a big thing. I had heard the story about how, years before, Dad had narrowly escaped a loss in seniority when my grandmother was severely ill. He had asked for a leave, which was not granted. At that time it was unheard of even to ask. He did get off for a couple of weeks, and upon his return there was no job available. After pleading his case at the home office, he eventually got rehired. The five years of service he had accrued were saved. It was wartime, and it was finally decided that while he had been away, he was officially in the Merchant Marine. The service time was credited, and as a result my dad had the seniority required to be promoted without having to wait for the next opportunity.
    I knew that, but Mom wanted to make sure I realized how important this was. She reached over and pulled me onto her lap, looked me in the eye, and said, “Do you really know what this means? It means that your dad will be up on his own deck, that he will have a bedroom, an office, and an observation room [a room the length of the front cabin ringed with portholes], and even a couch. It means he can get off when he is in port without asking and without trading watches. It means he will go to the meetings with the captains and chiefs. It means he will make more money. It means everything, that’s what it means. It means we’ve been waiting for this our whole lives!”
    â€œAnd,” Dad said to Mom, “it means that you now have thirtysailing days. And guess what?” he said to me. “When you turn twelve, you can take trips, too.”

    Dad standing proudly on the “captain’s deck”
    â€œIt means,” he said, raising his glass to Mom, “that you are the wife of a ship captain! And that you,” he said, turning to me, “are the ship captain’s daughter!”
    Dad’s first ship, the Adriatic , was half the length of the current fleet’s flagship. It was coal-fired and old, but the captain’s quarterswere constructed of beautiful wood. To our family, it was the Queen Mary.

    The captain’s quarters of the SS Adriatic with its beautiful bookcase, and above it, the big brass ship’s clock that chimed every half hour, day and night.
    Many things did change after that night. But some things in the sailing life never do. It was true, Dad didn’t have to load the ship anymore, which meant, if there was no pressing business, it was possible for him to be the first man off and the last one on in port. But even as a captain, there were the basic facts of the sailing life, and the main one was, there was no getting away from “sailing time.”
    Now, Dad arranged for the dock boss to call when the ship was an hour or so away from being loaded. That was technically enough advance notice to make it back to the ship on time. But we lived in Duluth, and if the ship was docked at the Great Northern Ore docks across the bay in Superior, he’d have to cross the bridge. That was the “wild card,” as my mother said. The old Interstate Bridge opened for any passing ship.

    The Old Interstate Bridge spanned the bay between Duluth and Superior. When it swung open for passing ships, it stopped traffic for an average of twenty minutes. It was replaced by the High Bridge in 1961, but a remnant of the old bridge remains as a fishing platform. ARCHIVES AND SPECIAL COLLECTIONS, KATHRYN A. MARTIN LIBRARY, UNIVERSITY OF MINNESOTA-DULUTH
    One night at the end of September, we got caught. Dad was home, and the dock boss called. We were just going out the door when Dad decided he’d better take his heavy wool mackinaw, as the weather could turn at any time now. He searched the front and back hall closets but couldn’t find it. He went up to