Two Years Before the Mast
and prepared to go off. The captain, who had been on the coast before
and "knew the ropes," took the steering oar, and we went off in the
same way as the other boat. I, being the youngest, had the pleasure of
standing at the bow, and getting wet through. We went off well, though
the seas were high. Some of them lifted us up, and sliding from under
us, seemed to let us drop through the air like a flat plank upon the
body of the water. In a few minutes we were in the low, regular swell,
and pulled for a light, which, as we came up, we found had been run up
to our trysail gaff.
Coming aboard, we hoisted up all the boats, and diving down into the
forecastle, changed our wet clothes, and got our supper. After supper
the sailors lighted their pipes, (cigars, those of us who had them,)
and we had to tell all we had seen ashore. Then followed conjectures
about the people ashore, the length of the voyage, carrying hides,
etc., until eight bells, when all hands were called aft, and the
"anchor watch" set. We were to stand two in a watch, and as the nights
were pretty long, two hours were to make a watch. The second mate was
to keep the deck until eight o'clock, and all hands were to be called
at daybreak, and the word was passed to keep a bright look-out, and to
call the mate if it should come on to blow from the south-east. We had
also orders to strike the bells every half-hour through the night, as
at sea. My watchmate was John, the Swedish sailor, and we stood from
twelve to two, he walking the larboard side, and I the starboard. At
daylight all hands were called, and we went through the usual process
of washing down, swabbing, etc., and got breakfast at eight o'clock.
In the course of the forenoon, a boat went aboard of the Ayacucho and
brought off a quarter of beef, which made us a fresh bite for dinner.
This we were glad enough to have, and the mate told us that we should
live upon fresh beef while we were on the coast, as it was cheaper here
than the salt. While at dinner, the cook called, "Sail ho!" and coming
on deck, we saw two sails coming round the point. One was a large ship
under top-gallant sails, and the other a small hermaphrodite brig.
They both backed their topsails and sent boats aboard of us. The
ship's colors had puzzled us, and we found that she was from Genoa,
with an assorted cargo, and was trading on the coast. She filled away
again, and stood out; being bound up the coast to San Francisco. The
crew of the brig's boat were Sandwich Islanders, but one of them, who
spoke a little English, told us that she was the Loriotte, Captain Nye,
from Oahu, and was engaged in this trade. She was a lump of a
thing--what the sailors call a butter-box. This vessel, as well as the
Ayacucho, and others which we afterwards saw engaged in the same trade,
have English or Americans for officers, and two or three before the
mast to do the work upon the rigging, and to rely upon for seamanship,
while the rest of the crew are Sandwich Islanders, who are active, and
very useful in boating.
The three captains went ashore after dinner, and came off again at
night. When in port, everything is attended to by the chief mate; the
captain, unless he is also supercargo, has little to do, and is usually
ashore much of his time. This we thought would be pleasanter for us,
as the mate was a good-natured man and not very strict. So it was for a
time, but we were worse off in the end; for wherever the captain is a
severe, energetic man, and the mate is wanting in both these qualities,
there will always be trouble. And trouble we had already begun to
anticipate. The captain had several times found fault with the mate,
in presence of the crew; and hints had been dropped that all was not
right between them. When this is the case, and the captain suspects
that his officer is too easy and familiar with the crew, then he begins
to interfere in all the duties, and to draw the reins tauter, and the
crew have to suffer.
CHAPTER X
A SOUTH-EASTER--PASSAGE UP THE COAST
This night, after sundown, it looked black at the southward and
eastward, and we were told to keep a bright look-out. Expecting to be
called up, we turned in early. Waking up about midnight, I found a man
who had just come down from his watch, striking a light. He said that
it was beginning to puff up from the south-east, and that the sea was
rolling in, and he had called the captain; and as he threw himself down
on his chest with all his clothes on, I knew that he expected to be
called. I felt the vessel pitching at her anchor, and the chain
surging and snapping, and lay awake, expecting an instant summons. In
a few minutes it came--three knocks on the scuttle, and "All hands
ahoy! bear-a-hand up and make sail." We sprang up for our clothes, and
were about halfway dressed, when the mate called out, down the scuttle,
"Tumble up here, men! tumble up! before she drags her anchor." We were
on deck in an instant. "Lay aloft and loose the topsails!" shouted the
captain, as soon as the first man showed himself. Springing into the
rigging, I saw that the Ayacucho's topsails were loosed, and heard her
crew singing-out at the sheets as they were hauling them home. This
had probably started our captain; as "old Wilson" (the captain of the
Ayacucho) had been many years on the coast, and knew the signs of the
weather. We soon had the topsails loosed; and one hand remaining, as
usual, in each top, to overhaul the rigging and light the sail out, the
rest of us laid down to man the sheets. While sheeting home, we saw
the Ayacucho standing athwart our bows, sharp upon the wind, cutting
through the head sea like a knife, with her raking masts and sharp bows
running up like the head of a greyhound. It was a beautiful sight.
She was like a bird which had been frightened and had spread her wings
in flight. After the topsails had been sheeted home, the head yards
braced aback, the fore-top-mast staysail hoisted, and the buoys
streamed, and all ready forward, for slipping, we went aft and manned
the slip-rope which came through the stern port with a turn round the
timber-heads. "All ready forward?" asked the captain. "Aye, aye, sir;
all ready," answered the mate. "Let go!" "All gone, sir;" and the
iron cable grated over the windlass and through the hawse-hole, and the
little vessel's head swinging off from the wind under the force of her
backed head sails, brought the strain upon the slip-rope. "Let go
aft!" Instantly all was gone, and we were under weigh. As soon as she
was well off from the wind, we filled away the head yards, braced all
up sharp, set the foresail and trysail, and left our anchorage well
astern, giving the point a good berth. "Nye's off too," said the
captain to the mate; and looking astern, we could just see the little
hermaphrodite brig under sail standing after us.
It now began to blow fresh; the rain fell fast, and it grew very black;
but the captain would not take in sail until we were well clear of the
point. As soon as we left this on our quarter, and were standing out
to sea, the order was given, and we sprang aloft, double reefed each
topsail, furled the foresail, and double reefed the trysail, and were
soon under easy sail. In those cases of slipping for south-easters,
there is nothing to be done, after you have got clear of the coast, but
to lie-to under easy sail, and wait for the gale to be over, which
seldom lasts more than two days, and is often over in twelve hours; but
the wind never comes back to the southward until there has been a good
deal of rain fallen. "Go below the watch," said the mate; but here was
a dispute which watch it should be, which the mate soon however settled
by sending his watch below, saying that we should have our turn the
next time we got under weigh. We remained on deck till the expiration
of the watch, the wind blowing very fresh and the rain coming down in
torrents. When the watch came up, we wore ship, and stood on the other
tack, in towards land. When we came up again, which was at four in the
morning, it was very dark, and there was not much wind, but it was
raining as I thought I had never seen it rain before. We had on
oil-cloth suits and south-wester caps, and had nothing to do but to
stand bolt upright and let it pour down upon us. There are no
umbrellas, and no sheds to go under, at sea.
While we were standing about on deck, we saw the little brig drifting
by us, hove to under her fore topsail double reefed; and she glided by
like a phantom. Not a word was spoken, and we saw no one on deck but
the man at the wheel. Toward morning the captain put his head out of
the companion-way and told the second mate, who commanded our watch, to
look out for a change of wind, which usually followed a calm and heavy
rain; and it was well that he did; for in a few minutes it fell dead
calm, the vessel lost her steerage-way, and the rain ceased. We hauled
up the trysail and courses, squared the after yards, and waited for the
change, which came in a few minutes, with a vengeance, from the
north-west, the opposite point of the compass. Owing to our
precautions, we were not taken aback, but ran before the wind with
square yards. The captain coming on deck, we braced up a little and
stood back for our anchorage. With the change of wind came a change of
weather, and in two hours the wind moderated into the light steady
breeze, which blows down the coast the greater part of the year, and,
from its regularity, might be called a trade-wind. The sun came up
bright, and we set royals, skysails, and studding-sails, and were under
fair way for Santa Barbara. The little Loriotte was astern of us,
nearly out of sight; but we saw nothing of the Ayacucho. In a short
time she appeared, standing out from Santa Rosa Island, under the lee
of which she had been hove to, all night. Our captain was anxious to
get in before her, for it would be a great credit to us, on the coast,
to beat the Ayacucho, which had been called the best sailer in the
North Pacific, in which she had been known as a trader for six years or
more. We had an advantage over her in light winds, from our royals and
skysails which we carried both at the fore and main, and also in our
studding-sails; for Captain Wilson carried nothing above
top-gallant-sails, and always unbent his studding-sails when on the
coast. As the wind was light and fair, we held our own, for some time,
when we were both obliged to brace up and come upon a taut bowline,
after rounding the point; and here he had us on fair ground, and walked
away from us, as you would haul in a line. He afterwards said that we
sailed well enough with the wind free, but that give him a taut
bowline, and he would beat us, if we had all the canvas of the Royal
George.
The Ayacucho got to the anchoring ground about half an hour before us,
and was furling her sails when we came up to it. This picking up your
cables is a very nice piece of work. It requires some seamanship to do
it, and come to at your former moorings, without letting go another
anchor. Captain Wilson was remarkable, among the sailors on the coast,
for his skill in doing this; and our captain never let go a second
anchor during all the time that I was with him. Coming a little to
windward of our buoy, we clewed up the light sails, backed our main
topsail, and lowered a boat, which pulled off, and made fast a spare
hawser to the buoy on the end of the slip-rope. We brought the other
end to the captain, and hove in upon it until we came to the slip-rope,
which we took to the windlass, and walked her up to her chain, the
captain helping her by backing and filling the sails. The chain is
then passed through the hawse-hole and round the windlass, and bitted,