Two Years Before the Mast
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
soap-suds 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° 29' S., and long. 118° 01' W.,
having made twelve hundred miles in seven days, very nearly upon a
taut 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 taut; 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° 04' S., 116° 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° 15' S., and long. 116° 38' W.
[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 tree-nails, 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.
[2] 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 live
stock, 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 pieces, 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.
CHAPTER XXXI
BAD PROSPECTS--FIRST TOUCH OF CAPE HORN--ICEBERGS--TEMPERANCE
SHIPS--LYING-UP--ICE--DIFFICULTY ON BOARD--CHANGE OF COURSE--STRAITS OF
MAGELLAN
There now began to be a decided change in the appearance of things. The
days became shorter and shorter; the sun running lower in its course
each day, and giving less and less heat; and the nights so cold as to
prevent our sleeping on deck; the Magellan Clouds in sight, of a clear
night; the skies looking cold and angry; and, at times, a long, heavy,
ugly sea, setting in from the southwards told us what we were coming
to. Still, however, we had a fine, strong breeze, and kept on our way,
under as much sail as our ship would bear. Toward the middle of the
week, the wind hauled to the southward, which brought us upon a taut
bowline, made the ship meet, nearly head on, the heavy swell which
rolled from that direction; and there was something not at all
encouraging in the manner in which she met it. Being so deep and
heavy, she wanted the buoyancy which should have carried her over the
seas, and she dropped heavily into them, the water washing over the
decks; and every now and then, when an unusually large sea met her
fairly upon the bows, she struck it with a sound as dead and heavy as
that with which a sledge-hammer falls upon the pile, and took the whole