We
Were Caught One Morning With The Sea Breaking All Around Us, And,
Unable Either To Advance Or Recede, Anchored A Mile From Shore, In
Seven Fathoms.
The furious surf on the beach would have shivered our
boat to atoms, had we tried to land.
The waves most dreaded came
rolling on in threes, with their crests, driven into spray, streaming
behind them. A short lull followed each triple charge. Had one of
these seas struck our boat, nothing could have saved us; for they
came on with resistless force; seaward, in shore, and on either side
of us, they broke in foam, but we escaped. For six weary hours we
faced those terrible trios. A low, dark, detached, oddly shaped
cloud came slowly from the mountains, and hung for hours directly
over our heads. A flock of night-jars (Cometornis vexillarius),
which on no other occasion come out by day, soared above us in the
gale, like birds of evil omen. Our black crew became sea-sick and
unable to sit up or keep the boat's head to the sea. The natives and
our land party stood on the high cliffs looking at us and exclaiming,
as the waves seemed to swallow up the boat, "They are lost! they are
all dead!" When at last the gale moderated and we got safely ashore,
they saluted us warmly, as after a long absence. From this time we
trusted implicitly to the opinions of our seaman, John Neil, who,
having been a fisherman on the coast of Ireland, understood boating
on a stormy coast, and by his advice we often sat cowering on the
land for days together waiting for the surf to go down.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 315 of 505
Words from 85049 to 85332
of 136856
