We Drifted Fairly Into The Loriotte, Her
Larboard Bow Into Our Starboard Quarter, Carrying Away A Part Of Our
Starboard Quarter Railing, And Breaking Off Her Larboard Bumpkin,
And One Or Two Stanchions Above The Deck.
We saw our handsome
sailor, Jackson, on the forecastle, with the Sandwich Islanders,
working away to get us clear.
After paying out chain, we swung
clear, but our anchors were no doubt afoul of hers. We manned
the windlass, and hove, and hove away, but to no purpose.
Sometimes we got a little upon the cable, but a good surge would take
it all back again. We now began to drift down toward the Ayacucho,
when her boat put off and brought her commander, Captain Wilson,
on board. He was a short, active, well-built man, between fifty
and sixty years of age; and being nearly twenty years older than
our captain, and a thorough seaman, he did not hesitate to give his
advice, and from giving advice, he gradually came to taking the
command; ordering us when to heave and when to pawl, and backing
and filling the topsails, setting and taking in jib and trysail,
whenever he thought best. Our captain gave a few orders, but as
Wilson generally countermanded them, saying, in an easy, fatherly
kind of way, "Oh no! Captain T - - -, you don't want the jib on
her," or "it isn't time yet to heave!" he soon gave it up. We had no
objections to this state of things, for Wilson was a kind old man,
and had an encouraging and pleasant way of speaking to us, which
made everything go easily.
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