After the vessels had separated and were rapidly increasing the space
between them, I looked back upon the schooner Mary and recalled the many
pleasant hours I had passed in that vessel, and asked myself if it
would not have been better to have remained on board, trusting to the
friendship of Captain Thompson and the promises of Mr. Jarvis. When I
looked around, and fully comprehended the situation in which I had
so unthinkingly placed myself, I saw little to give me consolation or
encouragement. Captain Moncrieff was not prepossessing in his person or
deportment. He was a tall, large-limbed Scotchman, about forty years of
age, with light blue eyes and coarse, bloated features. He was abrupt
in his language, had an exalted opinion of his merits and capacity, was
always the hero of his own story; and, although he subsequently proved
to be a man of generous feelings, to my unpractised optics he looked
more like a bully than a gentleman.
Mr. Campbell, the mate, was also a Scotchman; but his appearance
and character differed essentially from those of the captain. He was
slightly built, with thin, pale features. There was nothing genial in
his looks; and a certain vulpine cast of countenance, a low forehead,
and a brow deeply wrinkled but not with age conveyed the idea of a
selfish, narrow-minded individual.
With the exception of myself, there was no other person on board the
pilot-boat. On acceding to the proposition of Captain Moncrieff, it
escaped my notice that the cook was to leave the schooner with the rest
of the crew. It now flashed across my mind, communicating any thing but
a pleasurable sensation, that in addition to the ordinary duties of a
seaman, I was expected to perform the part of that sable functionary. I
therefore found myself monopolizing several responsible situations, and
held at one and the same time the office of second mate, cook, and all
hands.
In the novelty of my situation, however, I found a source of amusement;
and the very uncertainty of the expedition, the singular manner in which
I joined the pilot-boat, and the abundant cause I had for wondering
"what would turn up next," imparted to the whole enterprise an
unexpected charm. My duties, although various, were not arduous, but
occupied a large portion of my time. The mate and myself stood watch by
turns through the night, each steering the schooner his regular trick of
four hours at a time. The captain seldom came on deck during the night,
but enjoyed his rest of eight or ten hours undisturbed.
The Young Pilot steered so easily, the helmsman being snugly seated in
the cuddy, that it was next to impossible for any one to remain four
hours in that comfortable situation, in pleasant weather, with no one to
converse with or even to look at, without falling asleep. Aware of
the responsibility of my situation, and remembering the lesson I had
received when lying at anchor inside of Charleston bar, I strove hard to
resist the influence of the drowsy god, but was often compelled to nod
to his dominion; and many a sweet and stolen nap have I enjoyed when
stationed at the helm, and the vessel left entirely in my charge.
Sometimes, on arousing myself from my slumbers, I found the rebellious
little vessel running along four or five points off her course. In
more than one instance, when the orders were to keep close-hauled, the
schooner gradually fell off until she got before the wind, when the
sails gibed, all standing, making a terrible clatter, and awakening not
only myself, but the captain also, who, on coming on deck, must have
divined the true state of things; but, with a degree of consideration
which I could hardly have expected, and did not deserve, he never gave
me a word of reproof. How these matters were managed by Mr. Campbell,
I could never learn. He was one of those nervous, restless mortals who
require but little sleep. It can hardly be doubted, however, that he
sometimes fell asleep in his watch, and steered the schooner in every
direction but the right one. This wild steering during the night will
sufficiently account for a long passage, and errors in navigation.
Dead reckoning is of little use when the courses and distances are not
correctly noted. In the daytime, Captain Moncrieff would sometimes steer
hours at a time, especially when I was employed in other business or
taking a nap below.
The most unpleasant duty I was expected to perform was that of cooking.
I had never been inducted into the mysteries of that art, and was
disgusted with its drudgeries. While in the Dolphin, with Captain
Turner, I tried my hand at cooking more than once, when the cook had
been so badly flogged as to be unable to perform his duties. But I
gained no laurels in that department. Indeed, dissatisfaction was
expressed in the forecastle and the cabin at the bungling and unartistic
style in which I prepared the food on those occasions. In the Young
Pilot I succeeded but little better; and the captain, who was something
of an epicure in his way, whenever a good cup of coffee was required for
breakfast, or a palatable dish for dinner, released me from my vocation
for the time, and installed himself in the camboose. And it would have
been amusing to a looker-on, to see the big, burly Scotchman steaming
over the fire and smoke, rattling the pans and kettles, and compounding
various materials, while I sat quietly at the helm, watching his
operations, and thanking my stars that I had no genius for cooking.
The greatest cause I had for disquiet on this passage was the want
of society. The captain and mate could spin their yarns and discuss
subjects of nautical philosophy; but the mate, naturally unsocial
and taciturn, seldom spoke to me, and the captain never honored me by
entering into familiar conversation, excepting when he had indulged in
an extra glass, and Mr. Campbell was not on deck. At such times, being
in a garrulous humor, he would, as a sort of "Hogson's choice," address
himself to me, and rattle off narratives of adventures of the most
astounding description.
The schooner was easily managed, being a small vessel of only thirty
tons burden. In ordinary weather, one man, without leaving his station
at the helm, could tack ship, gibe, and trim every sail. The schooner
was a good-sailing vessel in light winds; but her chief excellence
consisted in ability to beat to windward. When within four points of the
wind she progressed at the rate of six or seven knots with a moderate
breeze, while with a strong wind on the quarter eight knots was her
greatest speed. An opportunity offered of testing her sailing qualities
a few days after I had the honor to constitute her whole crew.
One morning, at daylight, as we were steering to the southward on a
wind, a sail was made on the lee bow. It proved to be a large ship with
two tiers of ports, not more than three or four miles off, steering to
the westward. As soon as we were seen, the ship hauled her wind,
spread every sail, and seemed determined to ascertain our character
and business in those seas. Captain Moncrieff, with perfect propriety,
resolved, if possible, to prevent the gratification of such impertinent
curiosity. The British cruiser sailed remarkably well; and if we had
been under her lee, our voyage would have ended before it was fairly
begun. But we made short tacks to windward, shooting into the wind's eye
every time we went about, and by three o'clock the ship was hull down to
leeward, when she gave up the chase, squared away the yards, and steered
to the westward.
A few days after this incident we fell in with a large, rakish-looking
schooner on our weather bow. The schooner was heavily armed and her
decks were full of men. She crossed our hawse and kept on her course
until some distance under the lee bow, then hauled to the wind on the
starboard tack, and on reaching our wake tacked within long gunshot and
stood directly after us. She now fired a blank cartridge and hoisted the
Patriot flag.
If Captain Moncrieff had kept his wits about him, and had not been
afraid of cannon balls, we might have escaped, by keeping on our course
or making short tacks to windward. This was worth the trial, as it
was not unlikely the schooner, although showing Patriot colors, was a
Spanish privateer or government cruiser; in which case, it would appear
by letters and other documents that we were bound to LaGuayra, which
at that time was in possession of the Patriot forces, and could expect
little forbearance from the Spaniards, who were waging war to the knife
against the patriots. This was forcibly represented to Captain Moncrieff
by Mr. Campbell; and we trimmed every sail carefully, and kept close to
the wind, with a fair prospect of making our escape.
The piratical-looking craft, perceiving we took no notice of her hint to
heave to, yawed off a couple of points and sent a messenger after us in
the shape of a twenty-four pound shot, which struck the water a short
distance astern, and, playfully skipping along, sank beneath the surface
near the weather quarter. Captain Moncrieff said not a word, but looked
amazingly sober. Campbell, who cared little for his life, but had great
fear of being robbed, and who regarded all privateers as neither more
nor less than thieves and pirates, coolly remarked, "O, he may fire away
as much as he likes; he cannot hit us at that distance."
"I don't know that," replied captain Moncrieff, much agitated. "I
believe he is gaining on us. The next shot may take away one of the
masts."
"He is NOT gaining on us," said Campbell. "If he should hit one of the
masts we should be COMPELLED to heave to; it would no longer be a matter
of choice. But I don't believe he can do it"
At this moment the schooner yawed, and gave us another gun. The ball
came whizzing along, passed just over the mast-head, and fell in the
water a couple of lengths off on the starboard bow.
"I'll bet a beaver hat," said Campbell, "he can't do that again."
"This will never do," exclaimed the captain, greatly alarmed, and pale
as a ghost. "He will hull us next time, and send us all to 'Davy's
locker.' Haul the foresheet to windward!"
This was done; and the pilot-boat lay like a log on the water, waiting
the approach of our pursuer.
"Now," said Campbell, with a scowl of disappointment, "I will go below
and take care of 'number one.' And Hawser," continued he, "I know those
chaps better than you do. They glory in robbing a sailor's chest when
there is anything in it worth taking. I advise you to do as I mean to do
clothe yourself in two or three suits of your best garments; for I never
knew them strip the clothing from a man's back."
"I thank you for your counsel, sir," said I; "but if they overhaul MY
chest in expectation of a prize, they will be woefully disappointed."
Mr. Campbell went below a slight-built, thin-looking man, bearing a
closer resemblance to Shakespeare's portrait of Prince Hal than to that
of Falstaff. When, fifteen minutes afterwards, he appeared on deck,
staggering under the load of three pairs of trousers, an equal number
of vests, covering half a dozen shirts, with two or three silk kerchiefs
around his neck, he looked, from his chin downwards, more like the
"fat knight" than Prince Hal; and his thin face, peaked nose, and chin
showing itself above such a portly corporation and huge limbs, gave
him an unnatural appearance ludicrous in the extreme. He told me he
had stowed away the remainder of his property where it would puzzle the
privateersmen to find it, and chuckled over the ingenuity by which he
expected to outwit the rascals.
It was not long before the armed schooner ranged alongside. She was
a formidable-looking craft, with a "long Tom" and a stout armament
besides. We were hailed in broken English: "You capitan, come on board
directly, and bring your papers."
The captain remonstrated, saying we were short-manned, and unable to
launch the boat, or to man it afterwards. They did not, or would not,
understand his objections, but repeated the order in a style which
silenced further remonstrance: "Come on board, Senor Capitan, this
minute, and bring your papers, or I shall shoot directly!"
There was no alternative. After much labor and heavy lifting we launched
the boat. Captain Moncrieff put his papers in his pocket, and leaving
Mr. Campbell in charge of the schooner, followed me into the yawl.
Putting his dignity along with his papers, he took an oar, I took
another, and we pulled for the privateer, which by this time was out of
hail to leeward. We went alongside, and were roughly ordered on
deck, where we found a motley set. Some of the crew were savage,
desperate-looking fellows:
"As ever scuttled ship, or cut a throat."
Others were squalid, ragged, and filthy, to a degree I had never before
witnessed. There was apparently but little discipline on board, but a
great deal of disputation and a continual jabbering. A ruffianly-looking
fellow, with a swarthy complexion and big black whiskers, who proved to
be the commander, beckoned Captain Moncrieff to the quarter-deck, where
he examined the schooner's papers and various letters, all of which
proved, beyond a doubt, that the schooner was an American vessel, bound
to a Patriot port on the Spanish Main.
Fortunately for us our captor was a Patriot privateer, and our little
vessel, under no pretext, could be regarded as a prize. If we had been
bound to a port on the Spanish Main where the inhabitants had not
thrown off their allegiance to the king or if the privateer had been a
Spaniard, the case would have been different, and the pilot-boat would
have been taken possession of and confiscated to the benefit of the
captors, probably without trial. In those days other nations, following
the example of France and England, trampled on the great principles of
international law so far as our insulted country was concerned.
As the privateersmen could not take our vessel without avowing
themselves pirates, they reluctantly limited themselves to plunder. An
officer and half a dozen men, armed with pistols and cutlasses, were
despatched in our boat to the schooner, which they thoroughly examined
from stem to stern. As we had no goods, hey removed the ballast to
find valuable property or money, which we might have concealed. They
overhauled chests, trunks, and writing-desks, looking for specie or
hidden papers; helped themselves to whatever they particularly fancied,
and finally conveyed to the privateer all the water, beef, bread, sugar,
coffee, and other provisions and stores which they could find, with the
exception of a very scanty supply for our own use!
After a detention of a couple of hours, the last boat load of provisions
was transferred to the deck of the privateer, and Captain Moncrieff and
myself were about to step into the boat on our return, when the
officer who had superintended the piratical operations suggested to the
commander of the privateer that our boat was a remarkably fine one;
far better and more serviceable than any one in their possession, and
THEREFORE it would be right and proper for us the captain and crew of
the pilot-boat to return to our own vessel in a skiff belonging to the
privateer, and leave our boat for their use.
The case was forcibly put; the logic was unanswerable, and the
conclusion inevitable. The stern-boat, a light skiff, was lowered and
brought alongside, and then it appeared why the privateersmen did not
board us in their own boat, as is usual on such occasions. They had had
an engagement the day before with a Spanish government brig; had been
roughly handled, had several men killed and wounded, and sustained
damage in hull and spars. The boats had been riddled with shot, and, not
having been subsequently repaired, were not seaworthy.
When the little skiff was brought beneath the gangway the water was
pouring through the bottom in divers places. No time was given for
deliberation. We were unceremoniously shoved into the skiff, the painter
was cast loose, and a dark, ugly-visaged scoundrel told us, in broken
English and with a diabolical grin, to "pull for our lives!" So, indeed,
we did. The pilot-boat was not far off, nevertheless we should have
swamped ere we could have reached her had not the captain, with
admirable presence of mind, ordered me to lay in my oar, and at the same
time handed me his hat, a large one and in tolerable good condition,
and pointing to the water in which our legs were immersed, bade me "bale
away!" Then placing his oar over the stern of the boat, he sculled off
towards the schooner like an excited Hercules!
In this way we managed to reach the Young Pilot, and greatly to the
amusement of the piratical patriots, scrambled on board in a most
undignified manner. In spite of our exertions the skiff was filled
with water when we trod the deck of the schooner. Mr. Campbell relieved
himself of his superfluous garments, and we went busily to work rigging
purchases, with which to hoist in the boat we had received in exchange
for our own. We then proceeded on our way.
Any person who has sailed on the Atlantic must have noticed the luminous
appearance of the water of the ocean, especially at night and in
tempestuous weather. This beautiful phenomenon is witnessed to a greater
extent in some parts of the ocean than in others, and in different
sections it presents different appearances. In one place it seems
uniformly luminous, shining feebly with a pale and sickly light; in
another it exhibits bright flashes; again, it appears composed of
brilliants of different sizes and shades, and sometimes, like a grand
exhibition of the "northern lights," all these appearances are combined.
The most phosphorescent sea seldom exhibits peculiarities by daylight.
Nevertheless, sometimes, though rarely, luminous patches and even large
tracts of water are seen in the daytime, and at a great distance
from ordinary soundings, with the color differing materially from the
well-known hue of the ocean, and seeming to indicate to the astonished
mariner the existence of banks or shoals.
A few days after we fell in with the Patriot privateer, being in about
twenty-six degrees of latitude, in the middle of a clear and beautiful
day, Mr. Campbell, who was at the helm, exclaimed, in a tone of alarm,
"There's a shoal ahead!"
On looking in that direction, a tract of water embracing several square
miles was seen, which was of a light green color inclining to yellow.
Its edges were well defined, but irregular, and presented a strong
contrast with the general appearance of the ocean. We supposed the water
on that spot must be shallow, but as there was a heavy swell and no
breakers were seen, it was manifest there was depth of water enough for
our little schooner. The deep-sea lead was got ready, and when we had
reached what we considered the centre and shoalest part of the bank,
no bottom was found with a hundred fathoms of line. The peculiarity in
color was undoubtedly owing to luminous particles floating in the water,
and if we had remained on that spot until dark we should have seen that
whole tract of ocean splendidly illuminated.
The cause of this singular phenomenon has given rise to many theories
and much discussion among naturalists. It was for a time contended that
this phosphorescence was a quality of the water itself. But later and
more accurate observers ascertained beyond a doubt, that some marine
worms and other insects were luminous. On pursuing the investigation
it is ascertained that the sea water is far less pure than has been
supposed, and is often crowded with myriads of minute luminous animals.
It is now admitted that the phosphorescence of sea water is a property
not belonging to itself, but is produced by animalcula, or microscopic
creatures. They are far more numerous in some tracts of ocean than in
others, and all possess the power of producing a light, a spark, or
flash at will. There can be no doubt that these living, transparent
atoms cause the luminous appearance of the ocean, which excites
admiration, and has so often been described in glowing language by the
poet.