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Chapter XXX
Chapter XXX
Beginning the Long Return Voyage - A Scare
At eight o`clock all hands were called aft, and the watches set for the
voyage. Some changes were made; but I was glad to find myself still in the
larboard watch. Our crew was somewhat diminished; for a man and a boy had gone
in the Pilgrim; another was second mate of the Ayacucho; and a third, the
oldest man of the crew, had broken down under the hard work and constant
exposure on the coast, and, having had a stroke of the palsy, was left behind
at the hide-house under the charge of Captain Arthur. The poor fellow wished
very much to come home in the ship; and he ought to have been brought home in
her. But a live dog is better than a dead lion, and a sick sailor belongs to
nobody`s mess; so he was sent ashore with the rest of the lumber, which was
only in the way. By these diminutions, we were shorthanded for a voyage round
Cape Horn in the dead of winter. Besides S___and myself, there were only five
in the forecastle; who, together with four boys in the steerage, the
sailmaker, carpenter, etc., composed the whole crew. In addition to this, we
were only three or four days out, when the sailmaker, who was the oldest and
best seaman on board, was taken with the palsy, and was useless for the rest
of the voyage. The constant wading in the water, in all weathers, to take off
hides, together with the other labors, is too much for old men, and for any
who have not good constitutions. Beside these two men of ours, the second
officer of the California and the carpenter of the Pilgrim broke down under
the work, and the latter died at Santa Barbara. The young man, too, who came
out with us from Boston in the Pilgrim, had to be taken from his berth before
the mast and made clerk, on account of a fit of rheumatism which attacked him
soon after he came upon the coast. By the loss of the sailmaker, our watch was
reduced to five, of whom two were boys, who never steered but in fine weather,
so that the other two and myself had to stand at the wheel four hours apiece
out of every twenty-four; and the other watch had only four helmsmen. "Never
mind - we`re homeward bound!" was the answer to everything; and we should not
have minded this, were it not for the thought that we should be off Cape Horn
in the very dead of winter. It was now the first part of May; and two months
would bring us off the cape in July, which is the worst month in the year
there; when the sun rises at nine and sets at three, giving eighteen hours
night, and there is snow and rain, gales and high seas, in abundance.
The prospect of meeting this in a ship half manned, and loaded so deep
that every heavy sea must wash her fore and aft, was by no means pleasant. The
Alert, in her passage out, doubled the Cape in the month of February, which is
midsummer; and we came round in the Pilgrim in the latter part of October,
which we thought was bad enough. There was only one of our crew who had been
off there in the winter, and that was in a whaleship, much lighter and higher
than our ship; yet he said they had man-killing weather for twenty days
without intermission, and their decks were swept twice, and they were all glad
enough to see the last of it. The Brandywine frigate, also, in her passage
round, had sixty days off the Cape, and lost several boats by the heavy sea.
All this was for our comfort; yet pass it we must; and all hands agreed to
make the best of it.
During our watches below we overhauled our clothes, and made and mended
everything for bad weather. Each of us had made for himself a suit of oil -
cloth or tarpaulins, and these we got out, and gave thorough coatings of oil
or tar, and hung upon the stays to dry. Our stout boots, too, we covered over
with a thick mixture of melted grease and tar, and hung out to dry. Thus we
took advantage of the warm sun and fine weather of the Pacific to prepare for
its other face. In the forenoon watches below, our forecastle looked like the
workshop of what a sailor is, - a Jack at all trades. Thick stockings and
drawers were darned and patched; mittens dragged from the bottom of the chest
and mended; comforters made for the neck and ears; old flannel shirts cut up
to line monkey jackets; south-westers lined with flannel, and a pot of paint
smuggled forward to give them a coat on the outside; and everything turned to
hand; so that, although two years had left us but a scanty wardrobe, yet the
economy and invention which necessity teaches a sailor, soon put each of us in
pretty good trim for bad weather, even before we had seen the last of the
fine. Even the cobbler`s art was not out of place. Several old shoes were very
decently repaired, and with waxed ends, an awl, and the top of an old boot, I
made me quite a respectable sheath for my knife.
There was one difficulty, however, which nothing that we could do would
remedy; and that was the leaking of the forecastle, which made it very
uncomfortable in bad weather, and rendered half of the berths tenantless. The
tightest ships, in a long voyage, from the constant strain which is upon the
bowsprit, will leak, more or less, round the heel of the bowsprit, and the
bitts, which come down into the forecastle; but, in addition to this, we had
an unaccountable leak on the starboard bow, near the cat-head, which drove
us from the forward berths on that side, and, indeed, when she was on the
starboard tack, from all the forward berths. One of the after berths, too,
leaked in very bad weather; so that in a ship which was in other respects as
tight as a bottle, and brought her cargo to Boston perfectly dry, we had,
after every effort made to prevent it, in the way of caulking and leading, a
forecastle with only three dry berths - for seven of us. However, as there is
never but one watch below at a time, by `turning in and out,` we did pretty
well. And there being, in our watch, but three of us who lived forward, we
generally had a dry berth apiece in bad weather.^1
[Footnote 1: On removing the cat-head, after the ship arrived at Boston, it
was found that there were two holes under it which had been bored for the
purpose of driving treenails, and which, accidentally, had not been plugged up
when the cat-head was placed over them. This was sufficient to account for
the leak, and for our not having been able to discover and stop it.]
All this, however, was but anticipation. We were still in fine weather in
North Pacific, running down the north-east trades, which we took on the
second day after leaving San Diego.
Sunday, May 15th, one week out, we were in latitude 14 degrees 56` N.,
long. 116 degrees 14` W., having gone, by reckoning, over thirteen hundred
miles in seven days. In fact, ever since leaving San Diego, we had had a fair
wind, and as much as we wanted of it. For seven days, our lower and topmast
studding-sails were set all the time, and our royals and top gallant
studding-sails, whenever she could stagger under them. Indeed, the captain
had shown, from the moment we got to sea, that he was to have no boy`s play,
but that the ship had got to carry all she could, and that he was going to
make up, by "cracking on" to her, what she wanted in lightness. In this way,
we frequently made three degrees of latitude, besides something in longitude,
in the course of twenty-four hours. - Our days were spent in the usual
ship`s work. The rigging which had become slack from being long in port was to
be set up; breast backstays got up; studding-sail booms rigged upon the main
yard; and the royal studding-sails got ready for the light trades; ring tail
set; and new rigging fitted and sails got ready for Cape Horn. For, with a
ship`s gear, as well as a sailor`s wardrobe, fine weather must be improved to
get ready for the bad to come. Our forenoon watch below, as I have said, was
given to our own work, and our night watches were spent in the usual manner: -
a trick at the wheel, a look-out on the forecastle, a nap on a coil of
rigging under the lee of the rail; a yarn round the windlass-end; or, as was
generally my way, a solitary walk fore and aft, in the weather waist, between
the windlass-end and the main tack. Every wave that she threw aside brought
us nearer home, and every day`s observation at noon showed a progress which,
if it continued, would in less than five months, take us into Boston Bay. This
is the pleasure of life at sea, - fine weather, day after day, without
interruption, - fair wind, and a plenty of it, - and homeward bound. Every one
was in good humor; things went right; and all was done with a will. At the dog
watch, all hands came on deck, and stood round the weather side of the
forecastle, or sat upon the windlass, and sung sea songs, and those ballads of
pirates and highwaymen, which sailors delight in. Home, too, and what we
should do when we got there, and when and how we should arrive, was no
infrequent topic. Every night, after the kids and pots were put away, and we
had lighted our pipes and cigars at the galley, and gathered about the
windlass, the first question was, -
"Well, Tom, what was the latitude to-day?"
"Why fourteen, north, and she has been going seven knots ever since."
"Well, this will bring us up to the line in five days."
"Yes, but these trades won`t last twenty-four hours longer," says an
old salt, pointing with the sharp of his hand to leeward, - "I know that by
the look of the clouds."
Then came all manner of calculations and conjectures as to the
continuance of the wind, the weather under the line, the south-east trades,
etc., and rough guesses as to the time the ship would be up with the Horn; and
some, more venturous, gave her so many days to Boston light, and offered to
bet that she would not exceed it.
"You`d better wait till you get round Cape Horn," says an old croaker.
"Yes," says another, "you may see Boston, but you`ve got to `smell hell`
before that good day."
Rumors also of what had been said in the cabin, as usual, found their way
forward. The steward had heard the captain say something about the straits of
Magellan, and the man at the wheel fancied he had heard him tell the
"passenger" that, if he found the wind ahead and the weather very bad off the
Cape, he should stick her off for New Holland, and come home round the Cape of
Good Hope.
This passenger - the first and only one we had had, except to go from
port to port, on the coast, was no one else than a gentleman whom I had known
in my better days; and the last person I should have expected to have seen on
the coast of California - Professor N___, of Cambridge. I had left him quietly
seated in the chair of Botany and Ornithology, in Harvard University; and the
next I saw of him, was strolling about San Diego beach, in a sailor`s
peajacket, with a wide straw hat, and barefooted, with his trowsers rolled up
to his knees, picking up stones and shells. He had travelled overland to the
north-west Coast, and come down in a small vessel to Monterey. There he
learned that there was a ship at the leeward, about to sail for Boston; and,
taking passage in the Pilgrim, which was then at Monterey, he came slowly
down, visiting the intermediate ports, and examining the trees, plants,
earths, birds, etc., and joined us at San Diego shortly before we sailed. The
second mate of the Pilgrim told me that they had an old gentleman on board who
knew me, and came from the college that I had been in. He could not recollect
his name, but said he was a "sort of an oldish man," with white hair, and
spent all his time in the bush, and along the beach, picking up flowers and
shells, and such truck, and had a dozen boxes and barrels, full of them. I
thought over everybody who would be likely to be there, but could fix upon no
one; when, the next day, just as we were about to shove off from the beach, he
came down to the boat, in the rig I have described, with his shoes in his
hand, and his pockets full of specimens. I knew him at once, though I should
not have been more surprised to have seen the Old South steeple shoot up from
the hide-house. He probably had no less difficulty in recognizing me. As we
left home about the same time, we had nothing to tell one another; and, owing
to our different situations on board, I saw but little of him on the passage
home. Sometimes, when I was at the wheel of a calm night, and the steering
required no attention, and the officer of the watch was forward, he would come
aft and hold a short yarn with me; but this was against the rules of the ship,
as is, in fact, all intercourse between passengers and the crew. I saw often
amused to see the sailors puzzled to know what to make of him, and to hear
their conjectures about him and his business. They were as much puzzled as our
old sailmaker was with the captain`s instruments in the cabin. He said there
were three: - the chro-nometer, the chre-nometer, and the the-nometer.
(Chronometer, barometer, and thermometer.) The Pilgrim`s crew christened Mr.
N. "Old Curious," from his zeal for curiosities, and some of them said that he
was crazy, and that his friends let him go about and amuse himself in this
way. Why else a rich man (sailors call every man rich who does not work with
his hands, and wears a long coat and cravat) should leave a Christian country,
and come to such a place as California, to pick up shells and stones, they
could not understand. One of them, however, an old salt, who had seen
something more of the world ashore, set all to rights, as he thought, - "Oh,
`vast there! - You don`t know anything about them craft. I`ve seen them
colleges, and know the ropes. They keep all such things for cur`osites, and
study `em, and have men a` purpose to go and get `em. This old chap knows what
he`s about. He a`n`t the child you take him for. He`ll carry all these things
to the college, and if they are better than any that they have had before,
he`ll be head of the college. Then, by-and-by, somebody else will go after
some more, and if they beat him, he`ll have to go again, or else give up his
berth. That`s the way they do it. This old covey knows the ropes. He has
worked a traverse over`em, and come `way out here, where nobody`s ever been
afore, and where they`ll never think of coming." This explanation satisfied
Jack; and as it raised Mr. N.`s credit for capacity, and was near enough to
the truth for common purposes, I did not disturb it.
With the exception of Mr. N., we had no one on board but the regular
ship`s company, and the live stock. Upon this, we had made a considerable
inroad. We killed one of the bullocks every four days, so that they did not
last us up to the line. We, or, rather, they, then began upon the sheep and
the poultry, for these never come into Jack`s mess.^1 The pigs were left for
the latter part of the voyage, for they are sailors, and can stand all
weathers. We had an old sow on board, the mother of a numerous progeny, who
had been twice round the Cape of Good Hope, and once round Cape Horn. The last
time going round, was very nearly her death. We heard her squealing and
moaning one dark night, after it had been snowing and hailing for several
hours, and getting into the sty, we found her nearly frozen to death. We got
some straw, an old sail, and other things, and wrapped her up in a corner of
the sty, where she staid until we got into fine weather again.
[Footnote 1: The customs as to the allowance of "grub" are very nearly the
same in all American merchantmen. Whenever a pig is killed, the sailors have
one mess from it. The rest goes to the cabin. The smaller livestock, poultry,
etc., they never taste. And, indeed, they do not complain of this, for it
would take a great deal to supply them with a good meal, and without the
accompaniments, (which could hardly be furnished to them,) it would not be
much better than salt beef. But even as to the salt beef, they are scarcely
dealt fairly with; for whenever a barrel is opened, before any of the beef is
put into the harness-cask, the steward comes up, and picks it all over, and
takes out the best pieces, (those that have any fat in them) for the cabin.
This was done in both the vessels I was in, and the men said that it was usual
in other vessels. Indeed, it is made no secret, but some of the crew are
usually called to help in assorting and putting away the pieces. By this
arrangement the hard, dry prices, which the sailors call "old horse," come to
their share.
There is a singular piece of rhyme, traditional among sailors, which they say
over such pieces of beef. I do not know that it ever appeared in print before.
When seated round the kid, if a particularly bad piece is found, one of them
takes it up, and addressing it, repeats these lines:
"Old horse! old horse! what brought you here?"
- "From Sacarap to Portland pier
I`ve carted stone this many a year:
Till, killed by blows and sore abuse,
They salted me down for sailors` use
The sailors they do me despise:
They turn me over and damn my eyes;
Cut off my meat, and pick my bones,
And pitch the rest to Davy Jones."
There is a story current among seamen, that a beef-dealer was convicted, at
Boston, of having sold old horse for ship`s stores, instead of beef, and had
been sentenced to be confined in jail, until he should eat the whole of it;
and that he is now lying in Boston jail. I have heard this story often, on
board other vessels beside those of our own nation. It is very generally
believed, and is always highly commended, as a fair instance of retaliatory
justice.]
Wednesday, May 18th. Lat. 9 degrees 54` N., long. 113 degrees 17` W. The
north-east trades had now left us, and we had the usual variable winds, which
prevail near the line, together with some rain. So long as we were in these
latitudes, we had but little rest in our watch on deck at night, for, as the
winds were light and variable, and we could not lose a breath, we were all the
watch bracing the yards, and taking in and making sail, and "humbugging" with
our flying kites. A little puff of wind on the larboard quarter, and then -
"larboard fore braces!" and studding-booms were rigged out, studding-sails set
alow and aloft, the yards trimmed, and jibs and spanker in; when it would come
as calm as a duck-pond, and the man at the wheel stand with the palm of his
hand up, feeling for the wind. "Keep her off a little!" "All aback forward,
sir!" cries a man from the forecastle. Down go the braces again; in come the
studding-sails, all in a mess, which half an hour won`t, set right; yards
braced sharp up; and she`s on the starboard tack, close hauled. The
studding-sails must now be cleared away, and set up in the tops, and on the
booms. By the time this is done, and you are looking out for a soft plank for
a nap, - "Lay aft here, and square in the head yards!" and the studding-sails
are all set again on the starboard side. So it goes until it is eight bells, -
call the watch, - heave the log, - relieve the wheel, and go below the
larboard watch.
Sunday, May 22d. Lat. 5 degrees 14` N., long. 166 degrees 45` W. We were
now a fortnight out, and within five degrees of the line, to which two days of
good breeze would take us; but we had, for the most part, what sailors call
"an Irishman`s hurricane, - right up and down." This day it rained nearly all
day, and being Sunday, and nothing to do, we stopped up the scuppers and
filled the decks with rain water, and bringing all our clothes on deck, had a
grand wash, fore and aft. When this was through, we stripped to our drawers,
and taking pieces of soap and strips of canvas for towels, we turned-to and
soaped, washed, and scrubbed one another down, to get off, as we said, the
California dust; for the common wash in salt water, which is all Jack can get,
being on an allowance of fresh, had little efficacy, and was more for taste
than utility. The captain was below all the afternoon, and we had something
nearer to a Saturnalia than anything we had yet seen; for the mate came into
the scuppers, with a couple of boys to scrub him, and got into a battle with
them in heaving water. By unplugging the holes, we let the soapsuds off the
decks, and in a short time had a new supply of rain water, in which we had a
grand rinsing. It was surprising to see how much soap and fresh water did for
the complexions of many of us, how much of what we supposed to be tan and sea
- blacking, we got rid of. The next day, the sun rising clear, the ship was
covered, fore and aft, with clothes of all sorts, hanging out to dry.
As we approached the line, the wind became more easterly, and the weather
clearer, and in twenty days from San Diego, -
Saturday, May 28th, at about three P.M., with a fine breeze from the
east-south-east, we crossed the equator. In twenty-four hours after crossing
the line, which was very unusual, we took the regular south-east trades. These
winds come a little from the eastward of south-east, and, with us, they blew
directly from the east-south-east, which was fortunate for us, for our course
was south-by-west, and we could thus go one point free. The yards were braced
so that every sail drew, from the spanker to the flying-jib; and the upper
yards being squared in a little, the fore and main top-gallant studding-sails
were set, and just drew handsomely. For twelve days this breeze blew steadily,
not varying a point, and just so fresh that we could carry our royals; and,
during the whole time, we hardly started a brace. Such progress did we make,
that at the end of seven days from the time we took the breeze, on
Sunday, June 5th, we were in lat. 19 degrees 29` S., and long. 118
degrees 01` W., having made twelve hundred miles in seven days, very nearly
upon a taught bowline. Our good ship was getting to be herself again, had
increased her rate of sailing more than one-third since leaving San Diego.
The crew ceased complaining of her, and the officers hove the log every two
hours with evident satisfaction. This was glorious sailing. A steady breeze;
the light trade-wind clouds over our heads; the incomparable temperature of
the Pacific, - neither hot nor cold; a clear sun every day, and clear moon and
stars each night; and new constellations rising in the south, and the familiar
ones sinking in the north, as we went on our course, - "stemming nightly
toward the pole." Already we had sunk the north star and the Great Bear in the
northern horizon, and all hands looked out sharp to the southward for the
Magellan Clouds, which, each succeeding night, we expected to make. "The next
time we see the north star," said one, "we shall be standing to the northward,
the other side of the Horn." This was true enough, and no doubt it would be a
welcome sight; for sailors say that in coming home from round Cape Horn, and
the Cape of Good Hope, the north star is the first land you make.
These trades were the same that, in the passage out in the Pilgrim,
lasted nearly all the way from Juan Fernandez to the line; blowing steadily on
our starboard quarter for three weeks, without our starting a brace, or even
brailing down the skysails. Though we had now the same wind, and were in the
same latitude with the Pilgrim on her passage out, yet we were nearly twelve
hundred miles to the westward of her course; for the captain, depending upon
the strong south-west winds which prevail in high southern latitudes during
the winter months, took the full advantage of the trades, and stood well to
the westward, so far that we passed within about two hundred miles of Ducie`s
Island.
It was this weather and sailing that brought to my mind a little incident
that occurred on board the Pilgrim, while we were in the same latitude. We
were going along at a great rate, dead before the wind, with studding-sails
out on both sides, alow and aloft, on a dark night, just after midnight, and
everything was as still as the grave, except the washing of the water by the
vessel`s side; for, being before the wind, with a smooth sea, the little brig,
covered with canvas, was doing great business, with very little noise. The
other watch was below, and all our watch, except myself and the man at the
wheel, were asleep under the lee of the boat. The second mate, who came out
before the mast, and was always very thick with me, had been holding a yarn
with me, and just gone aft to his place on the quarter-deck, and I had
resumed my usual walk to and from the windlass-end, when, suddenly, we heard
a loud scream coming from ahead, apparently directly from under the bows. The
darkness, and complete stillness of the night, and the solitude of the ocean,
gave to the sound a dreadful and almost supernatural effect. I stood perfectly
still, and my heart beat quick. The sound woke up the rest of the watch, who
stood looking at one another. "What, in the name of God, is that?" said the
second mate, coming slowly forward. The first thought I had was, that it might
be a boat, with the crew of some wrecked vessel, or perhaps the boat of some
whaleship, out over night, and we had run them down in the darkness. Another
scream, but less loud than the first. This started us, and we ran forward, and
looked over the bows, and over the sides, to leeward, but nothing was to be
seen or heard. What was to be done. Call the captain, and heave the ship
aback? Just at this moment, in crossing the forecastle, one of the men saw a
light below, and looking down the scuttle, saw the watch all out of their
berths, and afoul of one poor fellow, dragging him out of his berth, and
shaking him, to wake him out of a nightmare. They had been waked out of their
sleep, and as much alarmed at the scream as we were, and were hesitating
whether to come on deck, when the second sound, coming directly from one of
the berths, revealed the cause of the alarm. The fellow got a good shaking for
the trouble he had given. We made a joke of the matter and we could well
laugh, for our minds were not a little relieved by its ridiculous termination.
We were now close upon the southern tropical line, and, with so fine a
breeze, were daily leaving the sun behind us, and drawing nearer to Cape Horn,
for which it behoved us to make every preparation. Our rigging was all
examined and overhauled, and mended, or replaced with new, where it was
necessary: new and strong bobstays fitted in the place of the chain ones,
which were worn out; the spritsail yard and martingale guys and back-ropes set
well taught; bran new fore and main braces rove; top-gallant sheets, and
wheel-ropes, made of green hide, laid up in the form of rope, were stretched
and fitted; and new top-sail clewlines, etc., rove; new fore-topmast
back-stays fitted; and other preparations made, in good season, that the ropes
might have time to stretch and become limber before we got into cold weather.
Sunday, June 12th. Lat. 26 degrees 04` S., 116 degrees 31` W. We had now
lost the regular trades, and had the winds variable, principally from the
westward, and kept on, in a southerly course, sailing very nearly upon a
meridian, and at the end of the week,
Sunday, June 19th, were in lat. 34 degrees 15` S., and long. 116 degrees
38` W.
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