The
Open Sea, With A Gale Of Wind, Is A Good Port For The _Maladetti_
English."
Irritated at this extreme politeness to our gallant tars, who have so
long "braved the battle and the breeze," I did not trouble farther the
dauntless Genoese, who certainly was not destined to become a Columbus.
Now the men began to snivel and yelp, following the example of their
commander.
"We won't go into the port, Santa Virgine! We won't go in to
be shivered to pieces on the rocks." At this moment our experienced
capitano fancied we had got into shoal-water; the surf was seen running
in foaming circles, as if in a whirlpool. Now, indeed, our capitano did
yelp; now did the crew yelp, invoking all the saints of the Roman
calendar, instead of attending to the ship. [14] Here was a scene of
indescribable confusion. Our ship was suddenly put round and back.
My fellow passengers, a couple of Jews from Gibraltar, began swearing at
the capitano and his brave men. One of them, whilst cursing, thought it
just as well, at the same time, to call upon Father Abraham. Our little
brig pitched her bows two or three times under water like a storm-bird,
and did _not_ ground. It was seen to be a false alarm. The capitano now
took courage on seeing all the flags flying over the fortifications, it
being Friday, the Mahometan Sabbath. The silly fellow had heard, that
the port authorities always hauled down their colours, when the entrance
to the harbour was unsafe by reason of bad weather.
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