D.C.O. Cargunka - Character Background

Character Background

The title "D.C.O." is somewhat obscure. We learn that it stands for "dot-and-carry-one," which is a reference to Cargunka's irregular gait. He is five feet, two inches tall, very muscular, and has one short leg and thus is slightly lame -- in the same leg, as he is fond of pointing out, as the poet Byron. Cargunka curls his hair to try to look like the handsome Byron, and has aspirations to write poetry himself, although the bits of doggerel he produces in the stories indicate he is not in Byron's league. He also claims to be irresistible to women, although there seems to be little objective evidence for his claim. Cargunka may have chosen the title "D.C.O." to mislead people into believing that he holds a naval commission, since the abbreviation also means "Direct Commissioned Officer."

Unlike Hodgson's Captains Gault and Jat, Cargunka is a ship owner, and not a captain. He owns two ships. One is called the Happy Return, and the other is not named. Cargunka also owns a marine stores company in Appledaulf and two bars, one connected to the marine stores company called the Red Lyon, and one on the waterfront in San Francisco, called the Dot-And-Carry-One Saloon. Cargunka's ship is actually captained by one Captain Gell, while Cargunka assumes the role of ship's cook, allegedly to save money, since he does not need to hire a cook. We are told that cooking is his "hobby, almost his passion," and that sailors love to ship out with him because of the quality of the food he produces; however, the only actual cooking that Hodgson describes Cargunka doing is peeling potatoes, and he seems to do a lot of this, even in his office.

Read more about this topic:  D.C.O. Cargunka

Famous quotes containing the words character and/or background:

    If there be no nobility of descent in a nation, all the more indispensable is it that there should be nobility of ascent—a character in them that bear rule, so fine and high and pure, that as men come within the circle of its influence, they involuntarily pay homage to that which is the one pre-eminent distinction, the Royalty of Virtue.
    Henry Codman Potter (1835–1908)

    Silence is the universal refuge, the sequel to all dull discourses and all foolish acts, a balm to our every chagrin, as welcome after satiety as after disappointment; that background which the painter may not daub, be he master or bungler, and which, however awkward a figure we may have made in the foreground, remains ever our inviolable asylum, where no indignity can assail, no personality can disturb us.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)