This Might
Do For Marines And Californians, But We Knew The Ropes Too Well.
The Brig Was Never Again Seen On The Coast, And The Avon Arrived
At San Pedro In About A Week, With A Full Cargo Of Canton And
American Goods.
This was one of the means of escaping the heavy duties the Mexicans
lay upon all imports.
A vessel comes on the coast, enters a
moderate cargo at Monterey, which is the only custom-house,
and commences trading. In a month or more, having sold a large
part of her cargo, she stretches over to Catalina, or other of the
large uninhabited islands which lie off the coast, in a trip from
port to port, and supplies herself with choice goods from a vessel
from Oahu, which has been lying off and on the islands, waiting for
her. Two days after the sailing of the Avon, the Loriotte came
in from the leeward, and without doubt had also a snatch at the
brig's cargo.
Tuesday, Nov. 10th. Going ashore, as usual, in the gig, just
before sundown, to bring off the captain, we found, upon taking
in the captain and pulling off again, that our ship, which lay
the farthest out, had run up her ensign. This meant "Sail ho!"
of course, but as we were within the point we could see nothing.
"Give way, boys! Give way! Lay out on your oars, and long stroke!"
said the captain; and stretching to the whole length of our arms,
bending back again, so that our backs touched the thwarts, we sent
her through the water like a rocket. A few minutes of such pulling
opened the islands, one after another, in range of the point, and gave
us a view of the Canal, where was a ship, under top-gallant sails,
standing in, with a light breeze, for the anchorage. Putting the
boat's head in the direction of the ship, the captain told us to lay
out again; and we needed no spurring, for the prospect of boarding a
new ship, perhaps from home, hearing the news and having something
to tell of when we got back, was excitement enough for us, and we
gave way with a will. Captain Nye, of the Loriotte, who had
been an old whaleman, was in the stern-sheets, and fell mightily
into the spirit of it. "Bend your backs and break your oars!"
said he. "Lay me on, Captain Bunker!" "There she flukes!" and
other exclamations, peculiar to whalemen. In the meantime, it
fell flat calm, and being within a couple of miles of the ship,
we expected to board her in a few moments, when a sudden breeze
sprung up, dead ahead for the ship, and she braced up and stood
off toward the islands, sharp on the larboard tack, making good
way through the water. This, of course, brought us up, and we
had only to "ease larboard oars; pull round starboard!" and go
aboard the Alert, with something very like a flea in the ear.
There was a light land-breeze all night, and the ship did not come
to anchor until the next morning. As soon as her anchor was down,
we went aboard, and found her to be the whaleship, Wilmington and
Liverpool Packet, of New Bedford, last from the "off-shore ground,"
with nineteen hundred barrels of oil. A "spouter" we knew her to
be as soon as we saw her, by her cranes and boats, and by her stump
top-gallant masts, and a certain slovenly look to the sails, rigging,
spars and hull; and when we got on board, we found everything to
correspond, - spouter fashion. She had a false deck, which was
rough and oily, and cut up in every direction by the chimes of
oil casks; her rigging was slack and turning white; no paint on
the spars or blocks; clumsy seizings and straps without covers,
and homeward-bound splices in every direction. Her crew, too,
were not in much better order. Her captain was a slab-sided,
shamble-legged Quaker, in a suit of brown, with a broad-brimmed
hat, and sneaking about decks, like a sheep, with his head down;
and the men looked more like fishermen and farmers than they did
like sailors.
Though it was by no means cold weather, (we having on only our red
shirts and duck trowsers,) they all had on woollen trowsers - not blue
and shipshape - but of all colors - brown, drab, grey, aye, and green,
with suspenders over their shoulders, and pockets to put their hands
in. This, added to guernsey frocks, striped comforters about the
neck, thick cowhide boots, woollen caps, and a strong, oily smell,
and a decidedly green look, will complete the description. Eight or
ten were on the fore-topsail yard, and as many more in the main,
furling the topsails, while eight or ten were hanging about the
forecastle, doing nothing. This was a strange sight for a vessel
coming to anchor; so we went up to them, to see what was the matter.
One of them, a stout, hearty-looking fellow, held out his leg and
said he had the scurvy; another had cut his hand; and others had
got nearly well, but said that there were plenty aloft to furl the
sails, so they were sogering on the forecastle. There was only one
"splicer" on board, a fine-looking old tar, who was in the bunt of
the fore-topsail. He was probably the only sailor in the ship,
before the mast. The mates, of course, and the boat-steerers,
and also two or three of the crew, had been to sea before, but
only whaling voyages; and the greater part of the crew were raw
hands, just from the bush, as green as cabbages, and had not yet
got the hay-seed out of their heads. The mizen topsail hung in
the bunt-lines until everything was furled forward. Thus a crew
of thirty men were half an hour in doing what would have been
done in the Alert with eighteen hands to go aloft, in fifteen
or twenty minutes.
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