In this
country it is customary for the wind to blow from the land from 8
P.M. until 8 A.M., from the south-west to the east.
Then comes a
lull, either an utter dead hot brooding calm, or light baffling
winds and draughts that breathe a few panting hot breaths into your
sails and die. Then comes the sea breeze up from the south-south-
west or north-west, some days early in the forenoon, some days not
till two or three o'clock. This breeze blows till sundown, and then
comes another and a hotter calm.
Fortunately for us we arrived off the head of the Gaboon estuary in
this calm, for had we had wind to deal with we should have come to
an end. There were one or two wandering puffs, about the first one
of which sickened our counterpane of its ambitious career as a
marine sail, so it came away from its gaff and spread itself over
the crew, as much as to say, "Here, I've had enough of this sailing.
I'll be a counterpane again." We did a great deal of fine varied,
spirited navigation, details of which, however, I will not dwell
upon because it was successful. We made one or two circles, taking
on water the while and then returned into the south bank backwards.
At that bank we wisely stayed for the night, our meeting with the
Gaboon so far having resulted in wrecking our sail, making Ngouta
sea-sick and me exasperate; for from our noble vessel having during
the course of it demonstrated for the first time her cataclysmic
kicking power, I had had a time of it with my belongings on the
bamboo stage.
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