Two Years Before the Mast
the rest, where something was to be done, and seen, and heard; where
there were fellow-beings for companions in duty and danger--but to be
cooped up alone in a black hole, in equal danger, but without the power
to do, was the hardest trial. Several times, in the course of the
night, I got up, determined to go on deck; but the silence which showed
that there was nothing doing, and the knowledge that I might make
myself seriously ill, for nothing, kept me back. It was not easy to
sleep, lying, as I did, with my head directly against the bows, which
might be dashed in by an island of ice, brought down by the very next
sea that struck her. This was the only time I had been ill since I
left Boston, and it was the worst time it could have happened. I felt
almost willing to bear the plagues of Egypt for the rest of the voyage,
if I could but be well and strong for that one night. Yet it was a
dreadful night for those on deck.
A watch of eighteen hours, with wet, and cold, and constant anxiety,
nearly wore them out; and when they came below at nine o'clock for
breakfast, they almost dropped asleep on their chests, and some of them
were so stiff that they could with difficulty sit down. Not a drop of
anything had been given them during the whole time, (though the
captain, as on the night that I was on deck, had his coffee every four
hours,) except that the mate stole a potful of coffee for two men to
drink behind the galley, while he kept a look-out for the captain.
Every man had his station, and was not allowed to leave it; and nothing
happened to break the monotony of the night, except once setting the
main topsails to run clear of a large island to leeward, which they
were drifting fast upon. Some of the boys got so sleepy and stupefied,
that they actually fell asleep at their posts; and the young third
mate, whose station was the exposed one of standing on the fore
scuttle, was so stiff, when he was relieved, that he could not bend his
knees to get down. By a constant look-out, and a quick shifting of the
helm, as the islands and pieces came in sight, the ship went clear of
everything but a few small pieces, though daylight showed the ocean
covered for miles. At daybreak it fell a dead calm, and with the sun,
the fog cleared a little, and a breeze sprung up from the westward,
which soon grew into a gale. We had now a fair wind, daylight, and
comparatively clear weather; yet, to the surprise of every one, the
ship continued hove-to. Why does not he run? What is the captain
about? was asked by every one; and from questions, it soon grew into
complaints and murmurings. When the daylight was so short, it was too
bad to lose it, and a fair wind, too, which every one had been praying
for. As hour followed hour, and the captain showed no sign of making
sail, the crew became impatient, and there was a good deal of talking
and consultation together, on the forecastle. They had been beaten out
with the exposure and hardship, and impatient to get out of it, and
this unaccountable delay was more than they could bear in quietness, in
their excited and restless state. Some said that the captain was
frightened,--completely cowed, by the dangers and difficulties that
surrounded us, and was afraid to make sail; while others said that in
his anxiety and suspense he had made a free use of brandy and opium,
and was unfit for his duty. The carpenter, who was an intelligent man,
and a thorough seaman, and had great influence with the crew, came down
into the forecastle, and tried to induce the crew to go aft and ask the
captain why he did not run, or request him, in the name of all hands,
to make sail. This appeared to be a very reasonable request, and the
crew agreed that if he did not make sail before noon, they would go
aft. Noon came, and no sail was made. A consultation was held again,
and it was proposed to take the ship from the captain and give the
command of her to the mate, who had been heard to say that, if he could
have his way, the ship would have been half the distance to the Cape
before night,--ice or no ice. And so irritated and impatient had the
crew become, that even this proposition, which was open mutiny,
punishable with state prison, was entertained, and the carpenter went
to his berth, leaving it tacitly understood that something serious
would be done, if things remained as they were many hours longer. When
the carpenter left, we talked it all over, and I gave my advice
strongly against it. Another of the men, too, who had known something
of the kind attempted in another ship by a crew who were dissatisfied
with their captain, and which was followed with serious consequences,
was opposed to it. S----, who soon came down, joined us, and we
determined to have nothing to do with it. By these means, they were
soon induced to give it up, for the present, though they said they
would not lie where they were much longer without knowing the reason.
The affair remained in this state until four o'clock, when an order
came forward for all hands to come aft upon the quarter-deck. In about
ten minutes they came forward again, and the whole affair had been
blown. The carpenter, very prematurely, and without any authority from
the crew, had sounded the mate as to whether he would take command of
the ship, and intimated an intention to displace the captain; and the
mate, as in duty bound, had told the whole to the captain, who
immediately sent for all hands aft. Instead of violent measures, or,
at least, an outbreak of quarter-deck bravado, threats, and abuse,
which they had every reason to expect, a sense of common danger and
common suffering seemed to have tamed his spirit, and begotten
something like a humane fellow-feeling; for he received the crew in a
manner quiet, and even almost kind. He told them what he had heard,
and said that he did not believe that they would try to do any such
thing as was intimated; that they had always been good men,--obedient,
and knew their duty, and he had no fault to find with them; and asked
them what they had to complain of--said that no one could say that he
was slow to carry sail, (which was true enough;) and that, as soon as
he thought it was safe and proper, he should make sail. He added a few
words about their duty in their present situation, and sent them
forward, saying that he should take no further notice of the matter;
but, at the same time, told the carpenter to recollect whose power he
was in, and that if he heard another word from him he would have cause
to remember him to the day of his death.
This language of the captain had a very good effect upon the crew, and
they returned quietly to their duty.
For two days more the wind blew from the southward and eastward; or in
the short intervals when it was fair, the ice was too thick to run; yet
the weather was not so dreadfully bad, and the crew had watch and
watch. I still remained in my berth, fast recovering, yet still not
well enough to go safely on deck. And I should have been perfectly
useless; for, from having eaten nothing for nearly a week, except a
little rice, which I forced into my mouth the last day or two, I was as
weak as an infant. To be sick in a forecastle is miserable indeed. It
is the worst part of a dog's life; especially in bad weather. The
forecastle, shut up tight to keep out the water and cold air;--the
watch either on deck, or asleep in their berths;--no one to speak
to;--the pale light of the single lamp, swinging to and fro from the
beam, so dim that one can scarcely see, much less read by it;--the
water dropping from the beams and carlines, and running down the sides;
and the forecastle so wet, and dark, and cheerless, and so lumbered up
with chests and wet clothes, that sitting up is worse than lying in the
berth! These are some of the evils. Fortunately, I needed no help
from any one, and no medicine; and if I had needed help, I don't know
where I should have found it. Sailors are willing enough; but it is
true, as is often said--No one ships for nurse on board a vessel. Our
merchant ships are always under-manned, and if one man is lost by
sickness, they cannot spare another to take care of him. A sailor is
always presumed to be well, and if he's sick, he's a poor dog. One has
to stand his wheel, and another his lookout, and the sooner he gets on
deck again, the better.
Accordingly, as soon as I could possibly go back to my duty, I put on
my thick clothes and boots and south-wester, and made my appearance on
deck. Though I had been but a few days below, yet everything looked
strangely enough. The ship was cased in ice,--decks, sides, masts,
yards, and rigging. Two close-reefed top-sails were all the sail she
had on, and every sail and rope was frozen so stiff in its place, that
it seemed as though it would be impossible to start anything. Reduced,
too, to her top-masts, she had altogether a most forlorn and crippled
appearance. The sun had come up brightly; the snow was swept off the
decks, and ashes thrown upon them, so that we could walk, for they had
been as slippery as glass.
It was, of course, too cold to carry on any ship's work, and we had
only to walk the deck and keep ourselves warm. The wind was still
ahead, and the whole ocean, to the eastward, covered with islands and
field-ice. At four bells the order was given to square away the yards;
and the man who came from the helm said that the captain had kept her
off to N. N. E. What could this mean? Some said that he was going to
put into Valparaiso, and winter, and others that he was going to run
out of the ice and cross the Pacific, and go home round the Cape of
Good Hope. Soon, however, it leaked out, and we found that we were
running for the straits of Magellan. The news soon spread through the
ship, and all tongues were at work, talking about it. No one on board
had been through the straits, but I had in my chest an account of the
passage of the ship A. J. Donelson, of New York, through those straits,
a few years before.
The account was given by the captain, and the representation was as
favorable as possible. It was soon read by every one on board, and
various opinions pronounced. The determination of our captain had at
least this good effect; it gave every one something to think and talk
about, made a break in our life, and diverted our minds from the
monotonous dreariness of the prospect before us. Having made a fair
wind of it, we were going off at a good rate, and leaving the thickest
of the ice behind us. This, at least, was something.
Having been long enough below to get my hands well warmed and softened,
the first handling of the ropes was rather tough; but a few days
hardened them, and as soon as I got my mouth open wide enough to take
in a piece of salt beef and hard bread, I was all right again.
Sunday, July 10th. Lat. 54° 10', long. 79° 07'. This was our position
at noon. The sun was out bright; the ice was all left behind, and
things had quite a cheering appearance. We brought our wet pea-jackets
and trowsers on deck, and hung them up in the rigging, that the breeze
and the few hours of sun might dry them a little; and, by the
permission of the cook, the galley was nearly filled with stockings and
mittens, hung round to be dried. Boots, too, were brought up; and
having got a little tar and slush from below, we gave them a thick
coat. After dinner, all hands were turned-to, to get the anchors over
the bows, bend on the chains, etc. The fish-tackle was got up,
fish-davit rigged out, and after two or three hours of hard and cold
work, both the anchors were ready for instant use, a couple of kedges
got up, a hawser coiled away upon the fore-hatch, and the
deep-sea-lead-line overhauled and got ready. Our spirits returned with