Spin that yarn where nobody knows your filling!
If you get once moored, stem and stern, in old B - - -'s grog-shop,
with a coal fire ahead and the bar under your lee, you won't see
daylight for three weeks!"
"No!" says Tom, "I'm going to knock off grog, and go and board
at the Home, and see if they won't ship me for a deacon!"
"And I," says Bill, "am going to buy a quadrant and ship for
navigator of a Hingham packet!"
These and the like jokes served to pass the time while we were
lying waiting for a breeze to clear up the fog and send us on our
way.
Toward night a moderate breeze sprang up; the fog however continuing
as thick as before; and we kept on to the eastward. About the middle
of the first watch, a man on the forecastle sang out, in a tone which
showed that there was not a moment to be lost, - "Hard up the helm!"
and a great ship loomed up out of the fog, coming directly down
upon us. She luffed at the same moment, and we just passed one
another; our spanker boom grazing over her quarter. The officer
of the deck had only time to hail, and she answered, as she went
into the fog again, something about Bristol - probably, a whaleman
from Bristol, Rhode Island, bound out. The fog continued through the
night, with a very light breeze, before which we ran to the eastward,
literally feeling our way along.
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