- Since I wrote last, we got into the south-west monsoon
for one day, and I sat up by the steersman in intense enjoyment - a
bright sun and glittering blue sea; and we tore along, pitching and
tossing the water up like mad.
It was glorious. At night, I was
calmly reposing in my cot, in the middle of the steerage, just
behind the main hatchway, when I heard a crashing of rigging and a
violent noise and confusion on deck. The captain screamed out
orders which informed me that we were in the thick of a collision -
of course I lay still, and waited till the row, or the ship, went
down. I found myself next day looked upon as no better than a
heathen by all the women, because I had been cool, and declined to
get up and make a noise. Presently the officers came and told me
that a big ship had borne down on us - we were on the starboard
tack, and all right - carried off our flying jib-boom and whisker
(the sort of yard to the bowsprit). The captain says he was never
in such imminent danger in his life, as she threatened to swing
round and to crush into our waist, which would have been certain
destruction. The little dandy soldier-officer behaved capitally;
he turned his men up in no time, and had them all ready. He said,
'Why, you know, I must see that my fellows go down decently.' S-
was as cool as an icicle, offered me my pea-jacket, &c., which I
declined, as it would be of no use for me to go off in boats, even
supposing there were time, and I preferred going down comfortably
in my cot. Finding she was of no use to me, she took a yelling
maid in custody, and was thought a brute for begging her to hold
her noise. The first lieutenant, who looks on passengers as odious
cargo, has utterly mollified to me since this adventure. I heard
him report to the captain that I was 'among 'em all, and never sung
out, nor asked a question the while'. This he called 'beautiful'.
Next day we got light wind S.W. (which ought to be the S.E.
trades), and the weather has been, beyond all description, lovely
ever since. Cool, but soft, sunny and bright - in short, perfect;
only the sky is so pale. Last night the sunset was a vision of
loveliness, a sort of Pompadour paradise; the sky seemed full of
rose-crowned amorini, and the moon wore a rose-coloured veil of
bright pink cloud, all so light, so airy, so brilliant, and so
fleeting, that it was a kind of intoxication. It is far less grand
than northern colour, but so lovely, so shiny. Then the flying
fish skimmed like silver swallows over the blue water. Such a
sight! Also, I saw a whale spout like a very tiny garden fountain.
The Southern Cross is a delusion, and the tropical moon no better
than a Parisian one, at present.
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