The Captain Sent Up The Steward With A Glass
Of Grog To Each Of The Watch; And All The Time That We Were Off The Cape,
Grog Was Given To The Morning Watch, And To All Hands Whenever We Reefed
Topsails.
The clouds cleared away at sun-rise, and the wind becoming
more fair, we again made sail and stood nearly up to our course.
Thursday, Nov. 6th. It continued more pleasant through the first
part of the day, but at night we had the same scene over again.
This time, we did not heave to, as on the night before, but endeavored
to beat to windward under close-reefed top-sails, balance-reefed trysail,
and fore top-mast stay-sail. This night it was my turn to steer, or,
as the sailors say, my trick at the helm, for two hours. Inexperienced
as I was, I made out to steer to the satisfaction of the officer,
and neither S - - - nor myself gave up our tricks, all the time that
we were off the Cape. This was something to boast of, for it requires
a good deal of skill and watchfulness to steer a vessel close hauled,
in a gale of wind, against a heavy head sea. "Ease her when she pitches,"
is the word; and a little carelessness in letting her ship a heavy sea,
might sweep the decks, or knock masts out of her.
Friday, Nov. 7th. Towards morning the wind went down, and during
the whole forenoon we lay tossing about in a dead calm, and in the
midst of a thick fog. The calms here are unlike those in most parts
of the world, for there is always such a high sea running, and the
periods of calm are so short, that it has no time to go down;
and vessels, being under no command of sails or rudder, lie like
logs upon the water. We were obliged to steady the booms and yards
by guys and braces, and to lash everything well below. We now found
our top hamper of some use, for though it is liable to be carried
away or sprung by the sudden "bringing up" of a vessel when pitching
in a chopping sea, yet it is a great help in steadying a vessel when
rolling in a long swell; giving it more slowness, ease, and regularity
to the motion.
The calm of the morning reminds me of a scene which I forgot to
describe at the time of its occurrence, but which I remember from
its being the first time that I had heard the near breathing of whales.
It was on the night that we passed between the Falkland Islands and
Staten Land. We had the watch from twelve to four, and coming upon deck,
found the little brig lying perfectly still, surrounded by a thick fog,
and the sea as smooth as though oil had been poured upon it; yet now
and then a long, low swell rolling over its surface, slightly lifting
the vessel, but without breaking the glassy smoothness of the water.
We were surrounded far and near by shoals of sluggish whales and
grampuses; which the fog prevented our seeing, rising slowly to the
surface, or perhaps lying out at length, heaving out those peculiar
lazy, deep, and long-drawn breathings which give such an impression
of supineness and strength.
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