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Chapter XXV (Continued)
Chapter XXV (Continued)
A Gale
In a few minutes, the captains came hurrying down, on the run; and there
was no time to be lost, for the gale promised to be a severe one, and the surf
was breaking upon the beach, three deep, higher and higher every instant. The
Ayacucho`s boat, pulled by four Kanakas, put off first, and as they had no
rudder or steering oar, would probably never have got off, had we not waded
out with them, as far as the surf would permit. The next that made the attempt
was the whale-boat, for we, being the most experienced "beach-combers,"
needed no help, and staid till the last. Whalemen make the best boats` crews
in the world for a long pull, but this landing was new to them, and
notwithstanding the examples they had had, they slued round and were hove up -
boat, oars, and men - altogether, high and dry upon the sand. The second time,
they filled, and had to turn their boat over, and set her off again. We could
be of no help to them, for they were so many as to be in one another`s way,
without the addition of our numbers. The third time, they got off, though not
without shipping a sea which drenched them all, and half filled their boat,
keeping them baling, until they reached their ship. We now got ready to go
off, putting the boat`s head out; English Ben and I, who were the largest,
standing on each side of the bows, to keep her "head on" to the sea, two more
shipping and manning the two after oars, and the captain taking the steering
oar. Two or three Spaniards, who stood upon the beach looking at us, wrapped
their cloaks about them, shook their heads, and muttered "Caramba!" They had
no taste for such doings; in fact, the hydrophobia is a national malady, and
shows itself in their persons as well as their actions.
Watching for a "smooth chance," we determined to show the other boats the
way it should be done; and, as soon as ours floated, ran out with her, keeping
her head on, with all our strength, and the help of the captain`s oar, and the
two after oarsmen giving way regularly and strongly, until our feet were off
the ground, we tumbled into the bows, keeping perfectly still, from fear of
hindering the others. For some time it was doubtful how it would go. The boat
stood nearly up and down in the water, and the sea, rolling from under her,
let her fall upon the water with a force which seemed almost to stave her
bottom in. By quietly sliding two oars forward, along the thwarts, without
impeding the rowers, we shipped two bow oars, and thus, by the help of four
oars and the captain`s strong arm, we got safely off, though we shipped
several seas, which left us half full of water. We pulled alongside of the
Loriotte, put her skipper on board, and found her making preparations for
slipping, and then pulled aboard our own ship. Here Mr. Brown, always "on
hand," had got everything ready, so that we had only to hook on the gig and
hoist it up, when the order was given to loose the sails. While we were on the
yards, we saw the Loriotte under weigh, and before our yards were mast-headed,
the Ayacucho had spread her wings, and, with yards braced sharp up, was
standing athwart our hawse. There is no prettier sight in the world than a
full-rigged, clipper-built brig, sailing sharp on the wind. In a moment, our
slip-rope was gone, the head-yards filled away, and we were off. Next came
the whaler; and in a half an hour from the time when four vessels were lying
quietly at anchor, without a rag out, or a sign of motion, the bay was
deserted, and four white clouds were standing off to sea. Being sure of
clearing the point, we stood off with our yards a little braced in, while the
Ayacucho went off with a taught bowline, which brought her to windward of us.
During all this day, and the greater part of the night, we had the usual
south-easter entertainment, a gale of wind, variegated and finally topped off
with a drenching rain of three or four hours. At daybreak, the clouds thinned
off and rolled away, and the sun came up clear. The wind, instead of coming
out from the northward, as is usual, blew steadily and freshly from the
anchoring-ground. This was bad for us, for, being "flying light," with little
more than ballast trim, we were in no condition for showing off on a taught
bowline, and had depended upon a fair wind, with which, by the help of our
light sails and studding-sails, we meant to have been the first at the
anchoring-ground; but the Ayacucho was a good league to windward of us, and
was standing in, in fine style. The whaler, however, was as far to leeward of
us, and the Loriotte was nearly out of sight, among the islands, up the Canal.
By hauling every brace and bowline, and clapping watch-tackles upon all the
sheets and halyards, we managed to hold our own, and drop the leeward vessels
a little in every tack. When we reached the anchoring-ground, the Ayacucho
had got her anchor, furled her sails, squared her yards, and was lying as
quietly as if nothing had happened for the last twenty-four hours.
We had our usual good luck in getting our anchor without letting go
another, and were all snug, with our boats at the boom-ends, in half an
hour. In about two hours more, the whaler came in, and made a clumsy piece of
work in getting her anchor, being obliged to let go her best bower, and
finally, to get out a kedge and a hawser. They were heave-ho-ing, stopping
and unstopping, pawling, catting, and fishing, for three hours; and the sails
hung from the yards all the afternoon, and were not furled until sundown. The
Loriotte came in just after dark, and let go her anchor, making no attempt to
pick up the other until the next day.
This affair led to a great dispute as to the sailing of our ship and the
Ayacucho. Bets were made between the captains, and the crews took it up in
their own way; but as she was bound to leeward and we to windward, and
merchant captains cannot deviate, a trial never took place; and perhaps it was
well for us that it did not, for the Ayacucho had been eight years in the
Pacific, in every part of it - Valparaiso, Sandwich Islands, Canton,
California, and all, and was called the fastest merchantman that traded in the
Pacific, unless it was the brig John Gilpin, and perhaps the ship Ann McKim of
Baltimore.
Saturday, Nov. 14th. This day we got under weigh, with the agent and
several Spaniards of note, as passengers, bound up to Monterey. We went ashore
in the gig to bring them off with their baggage, and found them waiting on the
beach, and a little afraid about going off, as the surf was running very high.
This was nuts to us; for we liked to have a Spaniard wet with salt water; and
then the agent was very much disliked by the crew, one and all; and we hoped,
as there was no officer in the boat, to have a chance to duck them; for we
knew that they were such "marines" that they would not know whether it was our
fault or not. Accordingly, we kept the boat so far from shore as to oblige
them to wet their feet in getting into her; and then waited for a good high
comber, and letting the head slue a little round, sent the whole force of the
sea into the stern-sheets, drenching them from head to feet. The Spaniards
sprang out of the boat, swore, and shook themselves and protested against
trying it again; and it was with the greatest difficulty that the agent could
prevail upon them to make another attempt. The next time we took care, and
went off easily enough, and pulled aboard. The crew came to the side to hoist
in their baggage, and we gave them the wink, and they heartily enjoyed the
half-drowned looks of the company.
Everything being now ready, and the passengers aboard, we ran up the
ensign and broad pennant, (for there was no man-of-war, and we were the
largest vessel on the coast,) and the other vessels ran up their ensigns.
Having hove short, cast off the gaskets, and made the bunt of each sail fast
by the jigger, with a man on each yard; at the word, the whole canvas of the
ship was loosed, and with the greatest rapidity possible, everything was
sheeted home and hoisted up, the anchor tripped and catheaded, and the ship
under headway. We were determined to show the "spouter" how things could be
done in a smart ship, with a good crew, though not more than half their
number. The royal yards were all crossed at once, and royals and skysails set,
and, as we had the wind free, the booms were run out, and every one was aloft,
active as cats, laying out on the yards and booms, reeving the studding-sail
gear; and sail after sail the captain piled upon her, until she was covered
with canvass her sails looking like a great white cloud resting upon a black
speck. Before we doubled the point, we were going at a dashing rate, and
leaving the shipping far astern. We had a fine breeze to take us through the
Canal, as they call this bay of forty miles long by ten wide. The breeze died
away at night, and we were becalmed all day on Sunday, about half way between
Santa Barbara and Point Conception. Sunday night we had a light, fair wind,
which set us up again; and having a fine sea-breeze on the first part of
Monday, we had the prospect of passing, without any trouble, Point Conception,
- the Cape Horn of California, where it begins to blow the first of January,
and blows all the year round. Toward the latter part of the afternoon,
however, the regular northwest wind, as usual, set in, which brought in our
studding-sails, and gave us the chance of beating round the Point, which we
were now just abreast of, and which stretched off into the Pacific, high,
rocky and barren, forming the central point of the coast for hundreds of miles
north and south. A cap-full of wind will be a bag-full here, and before night
our royals were furled, and the ship was laboring hard under her top-gallant
sails. At eight bells our watch went below, leaving her with as much sail as
she could stagger under, the water flying over the forecastle at every plunge.
It was evidently blowing harder, but then there was not a cloud in the sky,
and the sun had gone down bright.
We had been below but a short time, before we had the usual premonitions
of a coming gale: seas washing over the whole forward part of the vessel, and
her bows beating against them with a force and sound like the driving of
piles. The watch, too, seemed very busy trampling about decks, and singing out
at the ropes. A sailor can always tell, by the sound, what sail is coming in,
and, in a short time, we heard the top-gallant sails come in, one after
another, and then the flying jib. This seemed to ease her a good deal, and we
were fast going off to the land of Nod, when - bang, bang, bang - on the
scuttle, and "All hands, reef topsails, ahoy!" started us out of our berths;
and, it not being very cold weather, we had nothing extra to put on, and were
soon on deck. I shall never forget the fineness of the sight. It was a clear,
and rather a chilly night; the stars were twinkling with an intense
brightness, and as far as the eye could reach, there was not a cloud to be
seen. The horizon met the sea in a defined line. A painter could not have
painted so clear a sky. There was not a speck upon it. Yet it was blowing
great guns from the north-west. When you can see a cloud to windward, you feel
that there is a place for the wind to come from; but here it seemed to come
from nowhere. No person could have told, from the heavens, by their eyesight
alone, that it was not a still summer`s night. One reef after another, we took
in the topsails, and before we could get them hoisted up, we heard a sound
like a short, quick rattling of thunder, and the jib was blown to atoms out of
the bolt-rope. We got the topsails set, and the fragments of the jib stowed
away, and the fore-topmast staysail set in its place, when the great mainsail
gaped open, and the sail ripped from head to foot. "Lay up on that main-yard
and furl the sail, before it blows to tatters!" shouted the captain; and in a
moment, we were up, gathering the remains of it upon the yard. We got it
wrapped, round the yard, and passed gaskets over it as snugly as possible, and
were just on deck again, when, with another loud rent, which was heard
throughout the ship, the fore-topsail, which had been double-reefed, split in
two, athwartships, just below the reef-band, from earing to earning. Here
again it was down yard, haul out reef-tackles, and lay out upon the yard for
reefing. By hauling the reef-tackles chock-a-block, we took the strain
from the other earings, and passing the close-reef earring, and knotting the
points carefully, we succeeded in setting the sail, close-reefed.
We had but just got the rigging coiled up, and were waiting to hear "go
below the watch!" when the main royal worked loose from the gaskets, and blew
directly out to leeward, flapping, and shaking the mast like a wand. Here was
a job for somebody. The royal must come in or be cut adrift, or the mast would
be snapped short off. All the light hands in the starboard watch were sent up,
one after another, but they could do nothing with it. At length, John, the
tall Frenchman, the head of the starboard watch, (and a better sailor never
stepped upon a deck,) sprang aloft, and, by the help of his long arms and
legs, succeeded, after a hard struggle, - the sail blowing over the yard-arm
to leeward, and the skysail blowing directly over his head, - in smothering
it, and frapping it with long pieces of sinnet. He came very near being blown
or shaken from the yard, several times, but he was a true sailor, every finger
a fish-hook. Having made the sail snug, he prepared to send the yard down,
which was a long and difficult job; for, frequently, he was obliged to stop
and hold on with all his might, for several minutes, the ship pitching so as
to make it impossible to do anything else at that height. The yard at length
came down safe, and after it, the fore and mizen royal-yards were sent down.
All hands were then sent aloft, and for an hour or two we were hard at work,
making the booms well fast; unreeving the studding-sail and royal and sky -
sail gear; getting rolling-ropes on the yards; setting up the weather breast
- backstays; and making other preparations for a storm. It was a fine night
for a gale; just cool and bracing enough for quick work, without being cold,
and as bright as day. It was sport to have a gale in such weather as this. Yet
it blew like a hurricane. The wind seemed to come with a spite, an edge to it,
which threatened to scrape us off the yards. The mere force of the wind was
greater than I had ever seen it before; but darkness, cold, and wet are the
worst parts of a storm to a sailor.
Having got on deck again, we looked round to see what time of night it
was, and whose watch. In a few minutes the man at the wheel struck four bells,
and we found that the other watch was out, and our own half out. Accordingly,
the starboard watch went below, and left the ship to us for a couple of hours,
yet with orders to stand by for a call.
Hardly had they got below, before away went the fore-topmast staysail,
blown to ribbons. This was a small sail, which we could manage in the watch,
so that we were not obliged to call up the other watch. We laid out upon the
bowsprit, where we were under water half the time, and took in the fragments
of the sail, and as she must have some head sail on her, prepared to bend
another staysail. We got the new one out, into the nettings; seized on the
tack, sheets, and halyards, and the hanks; manned the halyards, cut adrift the
frapping lines, and hoisted away; but before it was half way up the stay, it
was blown all to pieces. When we belayed the halyards, there was nothing left
but the bolt-rope. Now large eyes began to show themselves in the foresail,
and knowing that it must soon go, the mate ordered us upon the yard to furl
it. Being unwilling to call up the watch who had been on deck all night, he
roused out the carpenter, sailmaker, cook, steward, and other idlers, and,
with their help, we manned the foreyard, and after nearly half an hour`s
struggle, mastered the sail, and got it well furled round the yard. The force
of the wind had never been greater than at this moment. In going up the
rigging, it seemed absolutely to pin us down to the shrouds; and on the yard,
there was no such thing as turning a face to windward. Yet here was no driving
sleet, and darkness, and wet, and cold, as off Cape Horn; and instead of a
stiff oil-cloth suit, south-wester caps, and thick boots, we had on hats,
round jackets, duck trowsers, light shoes, and everything light and easy. All
these things make a great difference to a sailor. When we got on deck, the man
at the wheel struck eight bells, (four o`clock in the morning,) and "All
starbowlines, ahoy!" brought the other watch up. But there was no going below
for us. The gale was now at its height, "blowing like scissors and
thumb-screws;" the captain was on deck; the ship, which was light, rolling and
pitching as though she would shake the long sticks out of her; and the sail
gaping open and splitting, in every direction. The mizen topsail, which was a
comparatively new sail, and close-reefed, split, from head to foot, in the
bunt; the fore-topsail went, in one rent, from clew to earing, and was blowing
to tatters; one of the chain bobstays parted; the spritsail-yard sprung in the
slings; the martingale had slued away off to leeward; and, owing to the long
dry weather, the lee rigging hung in large bights, at every lurch. One of the
main top-gallant shrouds had parted; and, to crown all, the galley had got
adrift, and gone over to leeward, and the anchor on the lee bow had worked
loose, and was thumping the side. Here was work enough for all hands for half
a day. Our gang laid out on the mizen topsail yard, and after more than half
an hour`s hard work, furled the sail, though it bellied out over heads, and
again, by a slant of the wind, blew in under the yard, with a fearful jerk,
and almost threw us off from the foot-ropes.
Double gaskets were passed round the yards, rolling tackles and other
gear bowsed taught, and everything made as secure as could be. Coming down, we
found the rest of the crew just coming down the fore rigging, having furled
the tattered topsail, or, rather, swathed it round the yard, which looked like
a broken limb, bandaged. There was no sail now on the ship but the spanker and
the close-reefed main topsail, which still held good. But this was too much
after sail; and order was given to furl the spanker. The brails were hauled
up, and all the light hands in the starboard watch sent out on the gaff to
pass the gaskets; but they could do nothing with it. The second mate swore at
them for a parcel of "sogers," and sent up a couple of the best men; but they
could do no better, and the gaff was lowered down. All hands were now employed
in setting up the lee rigging, fishing the spritsail-yard, lashing the
galley, and getting tackles the martingale, to bowse it to windward. Being in
the larboard watch, my duty was forward, to assist in setting up the
martingale. Three of us were out on the martingale guys and back-ropes for
more than half an hour, carrying out, hooking and unhooking the tackles,
several times buried in the seas, until the mate ordered us in, from fear of
our being washed off. The anchors were then to be taken up on the rail, which
kept all hands on the forcastle for an hour, though every now and then the
seas broke over it, washing the rigging off to leeward, filling the lee
scuppers breast high, and washing chock aft to the taffrail.
Having got everything secure again, we were promising ourselves some
breakfast, for it was now nearly nine o`clock in the forenoon, when the main
topsail showed evident signs of giving way. Some sail must be kept on the
ship, and the captain ordered the fore and main spencer gaffs to be lowered
down, and the two spencers (which were storm sails, bran new, small, and made
of the strongest canvas) to be got up and bent; leaving the main topsail to
blow away, with a blessing on it, if it would only last until we could set the
spencers. These we bent on very carefully, with strong robands and seizings,
and making tackles fast to the clews, bowsed them down to the water-ways. By
this time the main topsail was among the things that have been, and we went
aloft to stow away the remnant of the last sail of all those which were on the
ship twenty-four hours before. The spencers were now the only whole sails on
the ship, and, being strong and small, and near the deck, presenting but
little surface to the wind above the rail, promised to hold out well. Hove-to
under these, and eased by having no sail above the tops, the ship rose and
fell, and drifted off to leeward like a line-of-battle ship.
It was now eleven o`clock, and the watch was sent below to get breakfast,
and at eight bells (noon), as everything was snug, although the gale had not
in the least abated, the watch was set, and the other watch and idlers sent
below. For three days and three nights, the gale continued unabated fury, and
with singular regularity. There was no lulls, and very little variation in its
fierceness. Our ship, being light, rolled so as almost to send the fore yard -
arm under water, and drifted off bodily, to leeward. All this time there was
not a cloud to be seen in the sky, day or night; - no, not so large as a man`s
hand. Every morning the sun rose cloudless from the sea, and set again at
night, in the sea, in a flood of light. The stars, too, came out of the blue,
one after another, night after night, unobscured, and twinkled as clear as on
a still frosty night at home, until the day came upon them. All this time, the
sea was rolling in immense surges, white foam, as far as the eye could reach,
on every side, for we were now leagues and leagues from shore.
The between-decks being empty, several of us slept there in hammocks,
which are the best things in the world to sleep in during a storm; it not
being true of them, as it is of another kind of bed, "when the wind blows, the
cradle will rock;" for it is the ship that rocks, while they always hang
vertically from the beams. During these seventy-two hours we had nothing to
do, but to turn in and out, four hours on deck, and four below, eat, sleep,
and keep watch. The watches were only varied by taking the helm in turn, and
now and then, by one of the sails, which were furled, blowing out of the
gaskets, and getting adrift, which sent us up on the yards; and by getting
tackles on different parts of the rigging, which were slack. Once, the wheel -
rope parted, which might have been fatal to us, had not the chief mate sprung
instantly with a relieving tackle to windward, and kept the tiller up, till a
new one could be rove. On the morning of the twentieth, at daybreak, the gale
had evidently done its worst, and had somewhat abated; so much so, that all
hands were called to bend new sails, although it was still blowing as hard as
two common gales. One at a time, and with great difficulty and labor, the old
sails were unbent and sent down by the bunt-lines, and three new topsails,
made for the homeward passage round Cape Horn, and which had never been bent,
were got up from the sail-room, and under the care of the sailmaker, were
fitted for bending, and sent up by the halyards into the tops, and, with stops
and frapping lines were bent to the yards, close-reefed, sheeted home, and
hoisted. These were done one at a time, and with the greatest care and
difficulty. Two spare courses were then got up and bent in the same manner and
furled, and a storm-jib, with the bonnet off, bent and furled to the boom.
It was twelve o`clock before we got through; and five hours of more exhausting
labor I never experienced; and no one of that ship`s crew, I will venture to
say, will ever desire again to unbend and bend five large sails, in the teeth
of a tremendous north-wester. Towards night, a few clouds appeared in the
horizon, and as the gale moderated, the usual appearance of driving clouds
relieved the face of the sky. The fifth day after the commencement of the
storm, we shook a reef out of each topsail, and set the reefed foresail, jib
and spanker; but it was not until after eight days of reefed topsails that we
had a whole sail on the ship; and then it was quite soon enough, for the
captain was anxious to make up for leeway, the gale having blown us half the
distance to the Sandwich Islands.
Inch by inch, as fast as the gale would permit, we made sail on the ship,
for the wind still continued a-head, and we had many days` sailing to get
back to the longitude we were in when the storm took us. For eight days more
we beat to windward under a stiff top-gallant breeze, when the wind shifted
and became variable. A light south-easter, to which we could carry a reefed
topmast studding-sail, did wonders for our dead reckoning.
Friday, December 4th, after a passage of twenty days, we arrived at the
mouth of the bay of San Francisco.
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