The Dolphin was what is termed, in nautical parlance, an "hermaphrodite
brig," of about one hundred and fifty tons burden; and had been engaged,
for some twelve or fifteen years, in the West India trade. This vessel
could not with propriety be regarded as a model of grace and beauty, but
gloried in bluff bows, a flat bottom, and a high quarter-deck; carried
a large cargo for her tonnage, and moved heavily and reluctantly through
the water.
On this particular voyage, the hold of the brig, as I have already
stated, was filled with lumber; and thirty-five thousand feet of the
same article were carried on deck, together with an indefinite quantity
of staves, shooks, hoop poles, and other articles of commerce too
numerous to mention. On this enormous deck-load were constructed, on
each side, a row of sheep-pens, sufficiently spacious to furnish with
comfortable quarters some sixty or seventy sheep; and on the pens,
ranged along in beautiful confusion, was an imposing display of
hen-coops and turkey-coops, the interstices being ingeniously filled
with bundles of hay and chunks of firewood. The quarter-deck was
"lumbered up" with hogsheads of water, and casks of oats and barley, and
hen-coops without number.
With such a deck-load, not an unusually large one in those days, the
leading trucks attached to the fore-rigging were about half way between
the main deck and the foretop. It was a work of difficulty and danger to
descend from the deck-load to the forecastle; but to reach the foretop
required only a hop, skip, and a jump. The locomotive qualities of this
craft, misnamed the Dolphin, were little superior to those of a well
constructed raft; and with a fresh breeze on the quarter, in spite of
the skill of the best helmsman, her wake was as crooked as that of the
"wounded snake," referred to by the poet, which "dragged its slow length
along."
It was in the early part of July, in the year 1809, that the brig
Dolphin left Portsmouth, bound on a voyage to Dutch Guiana, which at
that time, in consequence of the malignant fevers that prevailed on the
coast, was not inaptly termed "the grave of American seamen." The crew
consisted of the captain and mate, five sailors, a green hand to act as
cook, and a cabin boy. There was also a passenger on board, a young man
named Chadwick, who had been residing in Portsmouth, and was going to
Demarara, in the hope which fortunately for him was not realized of
establishing himself in a mercantile house.
The forecastle being, for obvious reasons, untenable during the outward
passage, these ten individuals, when below deck, were stowed away in the
cabin and steerage, amid boxes, bales, chests, barrels, and water casks,
in a manner somewhat miscellaneous, and not the most commodious or
comfortable. Indeed, for several days after we left port, the usual and
almost only access to the cabin was by the skylight; and those who
made the cabin their home, were obliged to crawl on all fours over the
heterogeneous mass of materials with which it was crowded, in order to
reach their berths!
The owners of the brig must have calculated largely on favorable weather
during the passage; for had we experienced a gale on the coast, or
fallen in with the tail-end of a hurricane in the tropics, the whole
deck-load would have been swept away, and the lives of the ship's
company placed in imminent peril. The weather, however, proved
remarkably mild, and the many inconveniences to which the crew were
subjected were borne with exemplary patience, and sometimes even
regarded as a capital joke.
We passed the Whale's Back at the mouth of the Piscataqua, and the Isles
of Shoals loomed up through the hazy atmosphere; and although the wind
was light, and the sea apparently smooth, the brig began to have a
motion an awkward, uneasy motion for which I could not account, and
which, to my great annoyance, continued to increase as we left the land.
I staggered as I crossed the quarter-deck, and soon after we cleared
the harbor, came near pitching overboard from the platform covering the
sheep-pens. My head was strangely confused, and a dizziness seized me,
which I in vain struggled to shake off. My spirits, so gay and buoyant
as we sailed down the harbor, sunk to zero.
At length I could not resist the conviction that I was assailed with
symptoms of seasickness, a malady which I had always held in contempt,
believing it to exist more in imagination than in fact, and which I was
determined to resist, as unsailor-like and unmanly. Other symptoms of
a less equivocal description, soon placed the character of my illness
beyond a doubt. My woe-begone looks must have betrayed my feelings, for
one of the men told me, with a quizzical leer, that old Neptune always
exacted toll in advance from a green hand for his passage over the
waters.
Mr. Thompson, who seemed to pity my miserable condition, gravely
assured me that exercise was a capital thing as a preventive or cure for
seasickness, and advised me to try the pump. I followed his advice: a
few strokes brought up the bilge water, than which nothing at that time
could have been more insufferably nauseous! I left the pump in disgust,
and retiring to the after part of the quarter-deck, threw myself down on
a coil of rope, unable longer to struggle with my fate. There I remained
unnoticed and uncared for for several hours, when, the wind having
changed, the rope which formed my bed, and proved to be the "main
sheet," was wanted, and I was unceremoniously ejected from my quarters,
and roughly admonished to "go below and keep out of the way!" I crawled
into the cabin, and, stretched on some boxes, endeavored to get a little
sleep; but the conglomeration of smells of a most inodorous character,
which, as it seemed to my distempered fancy, pervaded every part of the
vessel, prevented my losing a sense of suffering in sleep.
As I lay musing on the changes which a few days had wrought in my
condition, and, borne down by the pangs of seasickness, was almost ready
to admit that there was prose as well as poetry in a sailor's life, I
was startled by a terrific noise, the announcement, I supposed, of some
appalling danger. I heard distinctly three loud knocks on the deck at
the entrance of the steerage, and then a sailor put his head down the
companion-way, and in a voice loud, cracked, and discordant, screamed in
a tone which I thought must have split his jaws asunder, "LA-AR-BO-A-RD
W-A-T-CH A-H-O-O-Y."
In spite of my sickness I started from my uncomfortable resting place,
scrambled into the steerage, and by a roll of the brig was tumbled under
the steps, and suffered additional pains and apprehensions before I
ascertained that the unearthly sounds which had so alarmed me were
nothing more than the usual mode of "calling the watch," or in other
words, the man with the unmusical voice had gently hinted to the
sleepers below that "turn-about was fair play," and they were wanted on
deck.
To add to my troubles, the wind in the morning shifted to the
south-east, and thus became a head wind, and the old brig became more
restless than ever, and pitched and rolled to leeward occasionally with
a lurch, performing clumsy antics in the water which my imagination
never pictured, and which I could neither admire nor applaud.
For several days we were beating about Massachusetts Bay and St.
George's Bank, making slow progress on our voyage. During that time
I was really seasick, and took little note of passing events, being
stretched on the deck, a coil of rope, or a chest, musing on the past
or indulging in gloomy reflections in regard to the future. Seasickness
never paints ideal objects of a roseate hue. Although I was not called
upon for much actual work, I received no sympathy for my miserable
condition; for seasickness, like the toothache, is seldom fatal,
notwithstanding it is as distressing a malady as is found in the
catalogue of diseases, and one for which no preventive or cure,
excepting time, has yet been discovered. Time is a panacea for every
ill; and after the lapse of ten or twelve days, as the brig was drawing
towards the latitude of Bermuda, my sickness disappeared as suddenly as
it commenced; and one pleasant morning I threw aside my shore dress, and
with it my landsman's habits and feelings. I donned my short jacket and
trousers, and felt every inch a sailor!
The Bermudas are a cluster of small islands and rocks lying in the track
of vessels bound from New England to the West Indies. The climate is
mild, and the atmosphere remarkably salubrious, while the trace of ocean
in the vicinity has long been noted for severe squalls at every season
of the year. A squall at sea no unusual occurrence is often the cause
of anxiety, being attended with danger. Sometimes the rush of wind is so
violent that nothing will resist its fury, and before the alarm is given
and the canvas reduced, the masts are blown over the side or the vessel
capsized. Therefore, on the approach of a squall, a vigilant officer
will be prepared for the worst, by shortening sail and making other
arrangements for averting the threatened danger.
I hardly knew how it happened, but one afternoon when we were a little
to the northward of Bermuda, and should have kept a lookout for squalls,
we were favored with a visit from one of a most energetic character.
Its sudden approach from under the lee was either unnoticed or unheeded
until the captain accidentally came on deck. He was instantly aware of
the perilous condition of the brig, for the "white caps" of the waves
could be distinctly seen, and even the roar of the wind could be heard
as it rushed towards us over the water. Before any orders could be
executed before the sails could be taken in, the yards braced round,
or even the helm shifted, the tempest broke over us. The rain fell
in torrents, the wind blew with tremendous violence, and a scene of
indescribable confusion ensued.
The captain stood near the companion-way, much excited, giving
directions with energy and rapidity. "Hard up your helm!" said he; "Hard
up! Lower away the mainsail! Let go the peak halliards! Why DON'T you
put the helm hard up? Let go all the halliards fore and aft! Clew down
the fore-topsail! Haul in the starboard braces! There steady with the
helm!"
The mate and sailors were running about the decks, looking frightened
and bewildered, eagerly casting loose some ropes, and pulling
desperately upon others; the sails were fluttering and shaking, as if
anxious to quit the spars and fly away to unknown regions; the brig felt
the force of the wind, and for a few moments was pressed over on her
side until her beam ends were in the water; and what with the shouting
of the captain, the answering shouts of the mate, the unearthly cries
of the sailors, as they strove to execute the orders so energetically
given; the struggling of the canvas, the roaring of the winds and the
waves, the creaking of the cordage, the beating of the rain against the
decks, and the careening of the vessel, it is not remarkable that I felt
somewhat alarmed and excited, as well as deeply interested in witnessing
for the first time in my life A SQUALL AT SEA.
The squall was of short duration; although the rain continued for a
time, the wind, after a few minutes, gave but little inconvenience. In
the course of an hour the murky clouds had disappeared, the sun shone
out brightly as it was sinking towards the horizon, and the brig was
again pursuing her way towards her destined port, urged slowly along by
a light but favorable breeze.
Having got my sea legs on, I could proudly strut about among the lumber
and sheep-pens without fear of rolling overboard. I found the sailors
a rough but good-natured set of fellows, with but little refinement in
ideas or language. Although they amused themselves with my awkwardness,
and annoyed me with practical jokes, they took a pride and pleasure
in inducting me into the mysteries of their craft. They taught me the
difference between a granny knot and a square knot; how to whip a rope's
end; form splices; braid sinnett; make a running bowline, and do a
variety of things peculiar to the web-footed gentry. Some of them also
tried hard, by precept and example, but in vain, to induce me to chew
tobacco and drink grog! Indeed, they regarded the ability to swallow a
stiff glass of New England rum, without making a wry face, as one of the
most important qualifications of a sailor!
The "old men-of-war's-men" had passed through strange and eventful
scenes; they were the type of a class of men which have long since
passed away; they could spin many a long and interesting yarn, to which
I listened with untiring eagerness. But no trait in their character
astonished me more than their uncontrollable passion for intoxicating
drinks. As cabin boy, it was my duty to serve out to the crew a half
pint of rum a day. These old Tritons eagerly looked forward to the hour
when this interesting ceremony came off; their eyes sparkled as they
received their allotted portion of this enemy to the human race; and
they practised every art to procure, by fair means or foul, an increased
allowance. If by accident or shrewd management one of them succeeded in
obtaining half a glass more than he was fairly entitled to, his triumph
was complete. But if he imagined he had not received the full quantity
which was his due, ill humor and sulky looks for the next twenty-four
hours bore testimony to his anger and disappointment. These men ignored
the good old proverb that "bread is the staff of life," and at any time,
or at all times, would prefer grog to bread.
In those days it was believed that ardent spirit would strengthen the
constitution, and enable a man to endure hardship and perform labor to a
greater extent that would be the case if he drank nothing stronger
than water. Rum was, therefore, included among the ship's stores as an
important means of keeping the ship's company in good humor, reviving
their spirits and energies when overcome with fatigue or exposure, and
strengthening them for a hard day's work.
Those days have passed away. It is now known that those doctrines were
false; that spiritous liquors, as a drink, never benefit mankind, but
have proved one of the greatest scourges with which the human race
has been afflicted. It is no longer believed that grog will insure the
faithful performance of a seaman's duty, and it is excluded from our
ships, so far as the forecastle is concerned; and if it were never
allowed to visit the cabin, the crews, in some cases, would lead happier
lives, there would be fewer instances of assault and battery, revolts
and shipwrecks, and the owners and underwriters would find the balance
at the end of the voyage more decidedly in their favor.
Among the customs on shipboard which attracted my particular attention,
was the manner in which the sailors partook of their meals. There was no
tedious ceremony or fastidious refinement witnessed on these occasions.
At twelve o'clock the orders were promptly given, "Call the watch! Hold
the reel! Pump ship! Get your dinners!" With never-failing alacrity the
watch was called, the log thrown, and the ship pumped. When these duties
were performed, a bustle was seen about the camboose, or large cooking
stove, in which the meals were prepared. In pleasant weather it was
usual for the sailors to take their meals on deck; but no table was
arranged, no table-cloth was spread, no knives and forks or spoons were
provided, no plates of any description were furnished, or glass tumblers
or earthen mugs. The preliminary arrangements were of the simplest
description.
The signal being given, the cook hastily transferred from his boilers
whatever food he had prepared, into a wooden vessel, called a kid,
resembling in size and appearance a peck measure. The kid with its
contents was deposited on the spot selected; a bag or box, containing
ship's biscuits was then produced, dinner was ready, and all hands,
nothing loth, gathered around the kid and commenced operations.
The usual fare was salt beef and bread, varied at stated times or
according to circumstances; and this has probably for centuries been the
standing dish for the forecastle in English and American ships. On this
passage, the Sunday dinner varied from the usual routine by the addition
of fresh meat. Every Sabbath morning a sheep, the finest and fattest of
the flock, was missing from the pens. Portions of the animal, however,
would appear a few hours afterwards in the shape of a luscious sea-pie
for the sailors, and in various inviting shapes during the following
week to the inmates of the cabin. This loss of property was recorded by
Mr. Thompson in the ship's log-book, with his accustomed accuracy, and
with Spartan brevity. The language he invariably used was, "A sheep died
this day."
Among the crew of the Dolphin were two weather-beaten tars, who were as
careless of their costumes as of their characters. They recked little
how ridiculously they looked, excepting in one respect. They could each
boast of a magnificent head of hair, which they allowed to grow to
a great length on the back of the head, where it was collected and
fashioned into enormous queues, which, when permitted to hang down,
reached to the small of their backs, and gave them the appearance of
Chinese mandarins, or Turkish pachas of a single tail. These tails
were their pets the only ornaments about their persons for which they
manifested any interest. This pride in their queues was the weak point
in their characters. Every Sunday they performed on each other the
operation of manipulating the pendulous ornaments, straightening them
out like magnified marlinspikes, and binding them with ribbons or
rope-yarns, tastily fastened at the extremity by a double bow knot.
Queues, in those days, were worn on the land as well as on the sea, and
were as highly prized by the owners. On the land, they were harmless
enough, perhaps, and seldom ungratefully interfered with the comfort of
their benefactors or lured them into scrapes. On shipboard the case
was different, and they sometimes proved not only superfluous but
troublesome.
On our homeward passage a case occurred which illustrated the absurdity
of wearing a queue at sea a fashion which has been obsolete for many
years. A gale of wind occurred on the coast, and the crew were ordered
aloft to reef the fore-topsail. Jim Bilton, with his queue snugly
clubbed and tucked away beneath his pea-jacket, was first on the yard,
and passed the weather ear-ring; but, unfortunately, the standing
rigging had recently been tarred, and his queue, escaping from bondage,
was blown about, the sport of the wind, and after flapping against the
yard, took a "round turn" over the lift, and stuck fast. Jim was in an
awkward position. He could not immediately disengage his queue, and
he could not willingly or conveniently leave it aloft. All hands but
himself were promptly on deck, and ready to sway up the yard. The mate
shouted to him in the full strength of his lungs to "Bear a hand and lay
in off the yard," and unjustly berated him as a "lubber," while the poor
fellow was tugging away, and working with might and main, to disengage
his tail from the lift, in which he at length succeeded, but not without
the aid of his jackknife.
I was greatly troubled during this passage by the impure character
of the water. I had been taught to place a high value on water as a
beverage; but when we had been three weeks at sea, and had entered the
warm latitudes, on knocking a bung from one of the water casks on the
quarter-deck, there issued an odor of "an ancient and fish-like" nature,
which gave offence to my olfactories. On tasting the water, I found to
my disgust that it was impregnated with a flavor of a like character,
and after it was swallowed this flavor would cling to the palate with
provoking tenacity for several minutes. The sailors smacked their lips
over it once or twice, and pronounced it "from fair to middling."
When boiled, and drank under the name of tea or coffee, it might have
deserved that character; but when taken directly from the cask, and
quaffed in hot weather, as a pleasant and refreshing beverage it was a
signal failure.
To the inmates of the cabin, myself excepted, the peculiar flavor of the
water served as an excuse, if any were required, for drawing liberally
on the brandy kegs and liquor cases. A little "dash of spirit" removed
the unpleasant taste by adding another, which, to my unsophisticated
palate, was equally offensive. The water in every cask proved of
a similar character; and I could hardly imagine how use, or even
necessity, could reconcile a person to such water as that. The problem
was solved, but not entirely to my satisfaction, on my next voyage.
The duties of cabin boy were of a nature different from my occupations
in previous years. They engrossed a considerable portion of my time;
and though they were not the kind of duties I most loved to perform, I
endeavored to accommodate my feelings to my situation, comforting myself
with the belief that the voyage would not be of long duration, and that
I was now taking the first step in the rugged path which led to fame and
fortune.
I devoted the hours which I could spare from my appropriate duties
to the acquisition of a knowledge of seamanship, and developing its
mysteries. I was fond of going aloft when the vessel was rolling or
pitching in a strong breeze. I loved to mount upon the top-gallant yard,
and from that proud eminence, while rocking to and fro, look down upon
the sails and spars of the brig, take a bird's eye view of the deck, and
scan the various operations; look at the foam beneath the bows, or at
the smooth, eddying, serpentine track left far behind. I also loved to
gaze from this elevated position upon the broad ocean, bounded on every
side by the clear and distant horizon a grand and sublime sight. And
then I indulged in daydreams of the most pleasing description, and built
gay and fantastic castles in the air, which my reason told me the next
moment would never be realized.