Two Years Before the Mast
of it in upon the forecastle, and rising, carried it aft in the
scuppers, washing the rigging off the pins, and carrying along with it
everything which was loose on deck. She had been acting in this way
all of our forenoon watch below; as we could tell by the washing of the
water over our heads, and the heavy breaking of the seas against her
bows, (with a sound as though she were striking against a rock,) only
the thickness of the plank from our heads, as we lay in our berths,
which are directly against the bows. At eight bells, the watch was
called, and we came on deck, one hand going aft to take the wheel, and
another going to the galley to get the grub for dinner. I stood on the
forecastle, looking at the seas, which were rolling high, as far as the
eye could reach, their tops white with foam, and the body of them of a
deep indigo blue, reflecting the bright rays of the sun. Our ship rose
slowly over a few of the largest of them, until one immense fellow came
rolling on, threatening to cover her, and which I was sailor enough to
know, by "the feeling of her" under my feet, she would not rise over.
I sprang upon the knight-heads, and seizing hold of the fore-stay with
my hands, drew myself upon it. My feet were just off the stanchion,
when she struck fairly into the middle of the sea, and it washed her
fore and aft, burying her in the water. As soon as she rose out of it,
I looked aft, and everything forward of the main-mast, except the
long-boat, which was griped and double-lashed down to the ring-bolts,
was swept off clear. The galley, the pig-sty, the hen-coop, and a
large sheep-pen which had been built upon the forehatch, were all gone,
in the twinkling of an eye--leaving the deck as clean as a chin
new-reaped--and not a stick left, to show where they had stood. In the
scuppers lay the galley, bottom up, and a few boards floating about,
the wreck of the sheep-pen,--and half a dozen miserable sheep floating
among them, wet through, and not a little frightened at the sudden
change that had come upon them. As soon as the sea had washed by, all
hands sprung out of the forecastle to see what had become of the ship
and in a few moments the cook and old Bill crawled out from under the
galley, where they had been lying in the water, nearly smothered, with
the galley over them. Fortunately, it rested against the bulwarks, or
it would have broken some of their bones. When the water ran off, we
picked the sheep up, and put them in the long-boat, got the galley back
in its place, and set things a little to rights; but, had not our ship
had uncommonly high bulwarks and rail, everything must have been washed
overboard, not excepting Old Bill and the cook.
Bill had been standing at the galley-door, with the kid of beef in his
hand for the forecastle mess, when, away he went, kid, beef, and all.
He held on to the kid till the last, like a good fellow, but the beef
was gone, and when the water had run off, we saw it lying high and dry,
like a rock at low tide--nothing could hurt that. We took the loss of
our beef very easily, consoling ourselves with the recollection that
the cabin had more to lose than we; and chuckled not a little at seeing
the remains of the chicken-pie and pan-cakes floating in the scuppers.
"This will never do!" was what some said, and every one felt. Here we
were, not yet within a thousand miles of the latitude of Cape Horn, and
our decks swept by a sea not one half so high as we must expect to find
there. Some blamed the captain for loading his ship so deep, when he
knew what he must expect; while others said that the wind was always
southwest, off the Cape, in the winter; and that, running before it, we
should not mind the seas so much. When we got down into the
forecastle, Old Bill, who was somewhat of a croaker,--having met with a
great many accidents at sea--said that if that was the way she was
going to act, we might as well make our wills, and balance the books at
once, and put on a clean shirt. "'Vast there, you bloody old owl!
You're always hanging out blue lights! You're frightened by the
ducking you got in the scuppers, and can't take a joke! What's the use
in being always on the look-out for Davy Jones?" "Stand by!" says
another, "and we'll get an afternoon watch below, by this scrape;" but
in this they were disappointed, for at two bells, all hands were called
and set to work, getting lashings upon everything on deck; and the
captain talked of sending down the long top-gallant masts; but, as the
sea went down toward night, and the wind hauled abeam, we left them
standing, and set the studding-sails.
The next day, all hands were turned-to upon unbending the old sails,
and getting up the new ones; for a ship, unlike people on shore, puts
on her best suit in bad weather. The old sails were sent down, and
three new topsails, and new fore and main courses, jib, and
fore-topmast staysail, which were made on the coast, and never had been
used, were bent, with a complete set of new earings, robands and
reef-points; and reef-tackles were rove to the courses, and
spilling-lines to the top-sails. These, with new braces and clew-lines,
fore and aft, gave us a good suit of running rigging.
The wind continued westerly, and the weather and sea less rough since
the day on which we shipped the heavy sea, and we were making great
progress under studding-sails, with our light sails all set, keeping a
little to the eastward of south; for the captain, depending upon
westerly winds off the Cape, had kept so far to the westward, that
though we were within about five hundred miles of the latitude of Cape
Horn, we were nearly seventeen hundred miles to the westward of it.
Through the rest of the week, we continued on with a fair wind,
gradually, as we got more to the southward, keeping a more easterly
course, and bringing the wind on our larboard quarter, until--
Sunday, June 26th, when, having a fine, clear day, the captain got a
lunar observation, as well as his meridian altitude, which made us in
lat. 47° 50' S., long. 113° 49' W.; Cape Horn bearing, according to my
calculation, E. S. E. 1/2 E., and distant eighteen hundred miles.
Monday, June 27th. During the first part of this day, the wind
continued fair, and, as we were going before it, it did not feel very
cold, so that we kept at work on deck, in our common clothes and round
jackets. Our watch had an afternoon watch below, for the first time
since leaving San Diego, and having inquired of the third mate what the
latitude was at noon, and made our usual guesses as to the time she
would need, to be up with the Horn, we turned-in, for a nap. We were
sleeping away "at the rates of knots," when three knocks on the
scuttle, and "All hands ahoy!" started us from our berths. What could
be the matter? It did not appear to be blowing hard, and looking up
through the scuttle, we could see that it was a clear day, overhead;
yet the watch were taking in sail.
We thought there must be a sail in sight, and that we were about to
heave-to and speak her; and were just congratulating ourselves upon
it--for we had seen neither sail nor land since we had left port--when
we heard the mate's voice on deck, (he turned-in "all standing," and
was always on deck the moment he was called,) singing out to the men
who were taking in the studding-sails, and asking where his watch were.
We did not wait for a second call, but tumbled up the ladder; and
there, on the starboard bow, was a bank of mist, covering sea and sky,
and driving directly for us. I had seen the same before, in my passage
round in the Pilgrim, and knew what it meant, and that there was no
time to be lost. We had nothing on but thin clothes, yet there was not
a moment to spare, and at it we went.
The boys of the other watch were in the tops, taking in the top-gallant
studding-sails, and the lower and topmast studding-sails were coming
down by the run. It was nothing but "haul down and clew up," until we
got all the studding-sails in, and the royals, flying-jib, and mizen
top-gallant sail furled, and the ship kept off a little, to take the
squall. The fore and main top-gallant sails were still on her, for the
"old man" did not mean to be frightened in broad daylight, and was
determined to carry sail till the last minute.
We all stood waiting for its coming, when the first blast showed us
that it was not be trifled with. Rain, sleet, snow, and wind, enough
to take our breath from us, and make the toughest turn his back to
windward! The ship lay nearly over on her beam-ends; the spars and
rigging snapped and cracked; and her top-gallant masts bent like
whip-sticks. "Clew up the fore and main top-gallant sails!" shouted
the captain, and all hands sprang to the clewlines. The decks were
standing nearly at an angle of forty-five degrees, and the ship going
like a mad steed through the water, the whole forward part of her in a
smother of foam. The halyards were let go and the yard clewed down,
and the sheets started, and in a few minutes the sails smothered and
kept in by clewlines and buntlines.--"Furl 'em, sir?" asked the
mate.--"Let go the topsail halyards, fore and aft!" shouted the
captain, in answer, at the top of his voice. Down came the topsail
yards, the reef-tackles were manned and hauled out, and we climbed up
to windward, and sprang into the weather rigging. The violence of the
wind, and the hail and sleet, driving nearly horizontally across the
ocean, seemed actually to pin us down to the rigging. It was hard work
making head against them. One after another, we got out upon the
yards. And here we had work to do; for our new sails, which had hardly
been bent long enough to get the starch out of them, were as stiff as
boards, and the new earings and reef-points, stiffened with the sleet,
knotted like pieces of iron wire. Having only our round jackets and
straw hats on, we were soon wet through, and it was every moment
growing colder. Our hands were soon stiffened and numbed, which, added
to the stiffness of everything else, kept us a good while on the yard.
After we had got the sail hauled upon the yard, we had to wait a long
time for the weather earing to be passed; but there was no fault to be
found, for French John was at the earing, and a better sailor never
laid out on a yard; so we leaned over the yard, and beat our hands upon
the sail to keep them from freezing. At length the word came--"Haul
out to leeward,"--and we seized the reef-points and hauled the band
taut for the lee earing. "taut band--Knot away," and we got the
first reef fast, and were just going to lay down, when--"Two reefs--two
reefs!" shouted the mate, and we had a second reef to take, in the same
way. When this was fast, we laid down on deck, manned the halyards to
leeward, nearly up to our knees in water, set the topsail, and then
laid aloft on the main topsail yard, and reefed that sail in the same
manner; for, as I have before stated, we were a good deal reduced in
numbers, and, to make it worse, the carpenter, only two days before,
cut his leg with an axe, so that he could not go aloft. This weakened
us so that we could not well manage more than one topsail at a time, in
such weather as this, and, of course, our labor was doubled. From the
main topsail yard, we went upon the main yard, and took a reef in the
mainsail. No sooner had we got on deck, than--"Lay aloft there,
mizen-top-men, and close-reef the mizen topsail!" This called me; and
being nearest to the rigging, I got first aloft, and out to the weather
earing. English Ben was on the yard just after me, and took the lee
earing, and the rest of our gang were soon on the yard, and began to
fist the sail, when the mate considerately sent up the cook and