darkness from his own cabin through the berths of the
officers, where all was quietness. He next entered
the galley and other compartments occupied by the
artificers. Here also all was shut up in darkness,
the fire having been drowned out in the early part
of the gale. Several of the artificers were
employed in prayer, repeating psalms and other devotional
exercises in a full tone of voice; others protesting
that, if they should fortunately get once more on
shore, no one should ever see them afloat again.
With the assistance of the landing-master, the writer
made his way, holding on step by step, among the numerous
impediments which lay in the way. Such was the
creaking noise of the bulk-heads or partitions, the
dashing of the water, and the whistling noise of the
winds, that it was hardly possible to break in upon
such a confusion of sounds. In one or two instances,
anxious and repeated inquiries were made by the artificers
as to the state of things upon deck, to which the
captain made the usual answer, that it could not blow
long in this way, and that we must soon have better
weather. The next berth in succession, moving
forward in the ship, was that allotted for the seamen.
Here the scene was considerably different.
Having reached the middle of this darksome berth without
its inmates being aware of any intrusion, the writer
had the consolation of remarking that, although they
talked of bad weather and the cross accidents of the
sea, yet the conversation was carried on in that sort
of tone and manner which bespoke an ease and composure
of mind highly creditable to them and pleasing to
him. The writer immediately accosted the seamen
about the state of the ship. To these inquiries
they replied that the vessel being light, and having
but little hold of the water, no top-rigging, with
excellent ground-tackle, and everything being fresh
and new, they felt perfect confidence in their situation.
It being impossible to open any of the hatches in
the fore part of the ship in communicating with the
deck, the watch was changed by passing through the
several berths to the companion-stair leading to the
quarter-deck. The writer, therefore, made the
best of his way aft, and, on a second attempt to look
out, he succeeded, and saw indeed an astonishing sight.
The sea or waves appeared to be ten or fifteen feet
in height of unbroken water, and every approaching
billow seemed as if it would overwhelm our vessel,
but she continued to rise upon the waves and to fall
between the seas in a very wonderful manner.
It seemed to be only those seas which caught her
in the act of rising which struck her with so much
violence and threw such quantities of water aft.
On deck there was only one solitary individual looking
out, to give the alarm in the event of the ship breaking
from her moorings. The seaman on watch continued
only two hours; he who kept watch at this time was
a tall, slender man of a black complexion; he had
no greatcoat nor over-all of any kind, but was simply