lower the topmasts and let drop the sheet anchor. We saw at daylight a
yacht coming down to us before the wind and were rejoiced to find that
Margaret was on board, with some other females. The yacht not coming
well up, our captain sent a boat to her, but they could not reach her
on account of the current. However, the yacht succeeded in coming
along side of us, and Margaret came on board with her little daughter,
and a Westphalian woman, who was a widow, and a girl, both of whom
were in her service, and to go as passengers. They were welcomed by
all, and all of them came and shook us by the hand. Some said they
thought she had been to Friesland. Whereupon she answered: "How do you
know where I have been?"[55] We had nothing to detain us now, except
the wind.
[Footnote 55: We are left to infer that Margaret Philipse also, like
Jan, had some relation to the Labadists, and perhaps that she had just
visited them. But her husband, Frederick Philipse, was a native of the
town of Bolsward, mentioned above, and she may therefore have gone
there.]
_26th, Monday._ The wind began to blow a little from the south, but
calmly. It veered round more and more to the southeast so that we
determined to get under sail. We therefore took a pilot, weighed
anchor, and set sail about ten or eleven o'clock. We sailed smoothly
onward to the Helder. The pilot had a brother who was older, and had
been a pilot longer than he had, and who sailed ahead of us in the
pilot boat, continually sounding the depth of water with the deep
lead. When we were going by the Oude Schilt there came a barge off
with two more women who desired to go with us; but as they could not
reach the ship, the pilot boat went after them and took them on board
of her, where they had to remain until the ship arrived outside. It
was about two o'clock when we came in the channel of the Lant's-diep
or Nieuwe Diep.[56] You run from Oude Schilt strait to the Helder, and
so close to the shore that you can throw a stone upon it, until you
have the capes on this point opposite each other, namely, the two
small ones; for to the westward of these there is a large one which is
not to be regarded. Having the capes thus opposite each other, you are
in the middle of the channel and by the first buoy. The current runs
outside along the shore, east and west, to wit: the ebb tide westerly,
and the flood easterly, and also very strong. The ebb runs until it is
half flood. There are still two other channels, the old one which is
the middle one, and the Spanish Channel stretching to the east. We had
reached the middlemost buoy when it became entirely calm, for which
reason we could hardly steer the ship, and, in the meanwhile, the
current was steadily setting us over to the west bank. Hereupon a
dispute arose between the pilot in our ship and those in the pilot
boat going ahead of us. The one in the ship on throwing the lead and
finding it begin to be shallow, and seeing, moreover, that the current
was driving us more upon the shoal, was of opinion that we should wear
ship, which his brother was not willing to do, saying that she should
stand over further. This continued so long that at last it became
entirely dry, when he wished to tack about; but it could not then be
done in consequence of the current running with so much force upon
shallow ground, and carrying the ship violently against the shoal,
where the current ran obliquely. They got out the boat at the bow of
the ship to row, which would not yield in consequence of the strong
current which also drove the boat as well as the ship; so that, in a
word, we were aground on the west bank of the channel, and although
the water was nearly at its lowest there was still a strong ebb tide.
Immediately there was great clamor and running to and fro both of
seamen and those not acquainted with navigation. Every one was
alarmed, and every one did his best in that respect, the more so,
because there was not far from us the wreck of a ship with her masts
sticking out of water, though it was on the east side of the channel.
Nevertheless, we remained fast, and the ship began to thump hard and
fall entirely on one side. They ran straightway to the pumps, but
found no leak. The pilot remained in good spirits, though put out and
angry with his brother, who had misled us, and who, in consequence of
the strength of the current, and the lightness of the wind, could not
come on board of us. They said we were in no danger, although it
looked very strange, as the current had washed the sand very much from
under the lee of the ship whereby she had fallen much on her side. But
we hoped with the flood tide she would come off again.
[Footnote 56: These are channels leading out around the Helder, the
Nieuwe Diep close to that cape on the inside, the Lands Diep close to
it on the outside. Farther out lay the old channel and the Spaniard's
Channel.]
There were several passengers, not only women, but men, and some of
the bravest, who began to secure the best they had, and were ready and
looking out how they might safely reach the land. But the Lord
possessed us with His grace. Though seeing all this and knowing the
danger, I was not disturbed by it. Margaret proposed throwing some of
the cargo overboard, but the pilot and I dissuaded her from it. The
captain wished to start the tanks of fresh water, but we hindered him.
Of all the men in the ship I saw no one who was so frightened as Jan.
He ran backwards and forwards and hardly knew what he said or did.
This happened about half past three o'clock in the afternoon, and as
we had not yet taken any dinner, and could effect nothing as long as
the ship was fast, the victuals were brought out to be eaten. We sat
before the hut and ate; but we had not finished when I perceived the
ship dragging, as had been predicted. I sprang up quickly and cried
out: "We are afloat; the ship's afloat." Immediately thereupon the
whole ship was in commotion. The victuals were removed, the boat put
to the bow, and every one did his best, rowing as well as he could.
The ship, floating more and more, gave some good pushes and was
brought into four fathoms of water, in the middle of the channel, and
there anchored. My companion and myself thanked God in our hearts, and
all were very much rejoiced. But no sooner was the danger over, which
had somewhat bridled the godlessness of these bad men, than they
returned to their old courses, with cursing and foul language. They
were not affected in the least by what had happened, nor by God's
gracious preservation of us. Truly was His hand visible, for it
remained perfectly calm, so the ship labored very little. It would
otherwise have been all over with us, for our ship not being the
strongest, and being moreover very heavily laden, if the wind had
changed to the east and forced us on a lee shore, she would have soon
gone to pieces; or if we had grounded on the opposite side, which
might easily have happened, there would have been little probability
of her getting off, because the flood tide would have driven us higher
up, especially if it had blown somewhat hard. The flood having run in
and a light breeze springing out of the S.E. and S.S.E., the anchor
was raised and in a short time we came outside, having been there
about six hours. The pilot was paid, and he left the ship; the women
whom he had taken in his boat were put on board and we bade him adieu,
and set our course.
Before we proceed further we will say a word concerning the island of
Texel, where we were about eight days, although the island is well
known. It is said to be twenty-eight miles[57] in circumference, and
is nearly oval in form. The shore, inside along the Texelsdiep, is
dyked; on the outside, along the North Sea, it is beset with dunes.
There are six villages, namely Oosterend, Seelt, the Hoogh, the Burgh,
which is the principal one, and has privileges like a city, such as
that of inflicting capital punishment and others; the Oude Schilt,
which is mostly resorted to by ships, the Hoorn, and also the West
End, which has now fallen into decay. We saw four of them but not the
Hoogh which lay out of the way, and the West End which had fallen
into decay. Inland the country is rough, and some of it high, so that
there are few ditches, except in the low lands for the most part on
the side of Texelsdiep. Otherwise they protect their land with small
dykes of earth. The soil is sandy, which affords very good water in
the high places. The meadow lands are somewhat dry, but yield a fine
grass. The inhabitants gain their livelihood, for the most part, by
raising sheep and making Texel cheese. The sheep are smaller, but
fatter and more hardy than they are in Friesland. They seldom bring
forth two young at a birth, and when they do, one usually is killed in
order that the other may be better nourished. The inhabitants have
cows for their own use. The dyke is not high or thick, but is lined
with _wier_, a kind of sea grass, which they put together and lay
against the dyke somewhat higher than the earth work. Piles are driven
outside to hold this wier against it, and prevent the sea from washing
it away. This dyke is repaired every year by contract. Many fishermen
and pilots live along it, both qualifications generally being in the
same person, as well as the other pursuits pertaining to navigation.
There are about five hundred pilots in all living on the island of
Texel, as can be seen by the numbers which they carry on their sails
or wings.
[Footnote 57: In this translation distances are stated in English
miles.]
The law is that no ship can go in or out without a pilot; and in case
any captain will not take a pilot, he is nevertheless bound to pay the
fees of one, and in case the captain will not pay them, the pilots can
go to Amsterdam and there obtain it at the expense of the captain. And
if the captain take no pilot and an accident happen, the consequences
fall upon him; but I believe this first rule only applies to ships
belonging to Amsterdam or other ports in Holland; and that foreign
ships are more free in that respect, but cannot relieve themselves
from the second. The pilots who bring in ships from the outside bring
them to the Texel roadstead or the Helder, and others take them to
Amsterdam or elsewhere; and those who take them from Amsterdam, go no
further than the Texel road or the Vlie,[58] and other pilots carry
them out to sea. The fee of the pilots is a guilder[59] a foot for
every foot the ship draws, though any sum may be fixed by agreement.
[Footnote 58: The Texel channel being the great western passage out
from the Zuider Zee, the other or eastern passage was the Vlie, lying
on the other side of the great shoal known as the Bree Sand, and
leading out between the islands of Vlieland and Schelling.]
[Footnote 59: A guilder or florin was equivalent to about 40 cents.]
During the whole time we were there we saw few or no fish, though we
supposed this was the place for fish. We remarked further that the
inhabitants of Texel were more polite than the boors of Friesland. A
large portion of them are Romanists. There was no home-brewed beer
tapped in the taverns, but it was all foreign beer, and this I suppose
was for the purpose of saving the excise. They are under the
jurisdiction of West Friesland and the particular government of the
city of Alckmaer,[60] whose weights and measures they use. West of the
Oude Schilt there is a small fortification with four points and two
redoubts on the dyke, and some small batteries; but they afford little
protection to the place, and still less to the harbor. It was closed
and without men, when we were there. When we first came there, the
people, unaccustomed to see such persons, regarded us as some
individuals in particular. The innkeepers took us to be farmers of the
revenue, especially of brandies, and supposed our presence there was
to prevent their smuggling, as they themselves told us. The Roman
Catholics, as they declared, looked upon us as priests; the
Mennonists, as a class of their exhorters; and the ordinary Reformed,
as preachers; whereby they all showed they did not know us in truth,
according to the word in Christ Jesus.
[Footnote 60: West Friesland was the ancient name for the northern
part of the province of Holland, Alkmaar one of its chief towns.]
Leaving Texel and the land we came outside the coast, laying our
course S.W. with a S.E. wind, with which we sailed some distance from
the shore. Towards evening the wind began to blow from the S. and
S.S.W. quite hard, and so we stood off through the whole night. I do
not know that I ever had in my life so severe a pain in the breast as
I had this evening, whether it was from hard work or change of our
condition.
_27th, Tuesday._ The wind from the same quarter as before, but blowing
harder, for which reason we reefed our topsails. We had twenty-six and
twenty-eight fathoms of water. By evening it was somewhat calmer; but
as the wind was not steady we stood off from the shore.
_28th, Wednesday._ Finding ourselves in twenty-five and twenty-six
fathoms of water and the wind still south and southwest we sailed over
by the wind. It continued to blow hard, and we sailed for the most
part N. by E. and N.N.E. It annoyed me that I could not get at our
chest, in order to obtain my charts and books of navigation. Our mate
and others observed the latitude, and found it to be 52 deg. 16'; and we
tacked about. The wind continued in the same quarter, sometimes a
little lighter, sometimes sharper. We kept mostly a S.S.E. course,
with hard weather the first part of the night.
_29th, Thursday._ Having twenty-six and twenty-seven fathoms of water
we lay over again. Every day there were many mackerel caught, which
for several days were for the cabin only, whatever number were caught,
because they were taken with the captain's hooks; but the passengers
and sailors began to get their hooks ready also and thus every one
began to catch and eat. The weather was delightful. I had obtained my
things out of the chest, and found the latitude 52 deg. 18' [?]. We stood
over to the Flemish or Zeelandish coast, calculating we were not far
from Sluis and Bruges. I therefore went aloft frequently to look out
for land. We saw several fishing boats, one of which we hailed toward
evening. He was from Zierickzee, and told us Walcheren[61] was about
twenty-eight miles E.S.E. of us, and we could see it from the mast
head, as was the fact. We laid over again immediately. It now began to
blow more from the S.W. and S.W. by W. We had sailed the last night
west by north, according to reckoning, twenty-eight miles. This result
agreed with my observation within less than four miles, and that of
our mate, named Evert. But the captain's and the English mate's
calculation brought us before the Maes, as Evert[62] told me.
[Footnote 61: The westernmost island of the province of Zeeland.]
[Footnote 62: Evert Duyckinck; see _post_, p. 28, note 2.]
We sailed now for a day or two among great quantities of June-bugs or
cock-chafers, which had been driven off from the land and drowned,[63]
which caused us to reflect upon what God did formerly in Egypt and
elsewhere, and still often does, for His power is always the same,
although it is not always understood.
[Footnote 63: In the fragmentary manuscript journal of the voyage of
1683, Danckaerts notices, on land, between Canterbury and Dover, the
same great abundance of beetles, which every evening fly out to sea
from Dover in great numbers.]
_30th, Friday._ We tacked over to the Flemish coast this morning in
twenty-five fathoms of water; but it was so calm that we made little
progress. It was too cloudy to take the latitude. The wind was very
variable, and we could not keep on S.W., or even south, and so drifted
for the most part with the tide.
JULY _1st, Saturday._ We had drifted the whole night in the calm, and
had gone backwards instead of forwards; but in the morning the wind
began to blow out of the N.W. and N.N.W. with a stiff breeze. We
therefore set all sail, and went ahead tolerably well on a straight
course W. by S. and W.S.W. against the current. We saw land many times
about two hours' distance, both on the starboard and larboard, that on
the starboard being the cape of Dover, and on the larboard, the cape
of Calais. There was a free wind and fine weather, though a little
haze on the horizon. The land began to loom up more distinctly, and I
sketched it twice with crayon. We continued to catch plenty of
mackerel, and also weevers and whitings. We arrived before Dover at
sunset, when we fired a gun, and a boat came off to us immediately, by
which the captain sent some letters ashore. We inquired of them the
news, and they answered us all was well; but they told the captain
privately that 30,000 Scottish Papists had taken up arms for the
conspirators.[64]
[Footnote 64: A distorted rumor of the rising of the Covenanters in
June, 1679; but everything was now seen in the light of the Popish
Plot.]
It is proper that I should say something here of the North Sea. In
case you are driven about by strong contrary winds and cannot obtain
the latitude, and, indeed, under any circumstances, you should use the
deep lead frequently, for the depth is well shown on the chart, and
often you cannot get sight of the land. The Flemish coast is the least
dangerous, although the English is the most surveyed, because the
water becomes shoal gradually. You may get into thirteen and fourteen
fathoms of water. In the true channel it is twenty and twenty-two
fathoms, and in the middle it is deeper, namely, twenty-six and
twenty-eight and over, but it is somewhat more uneven. In approaching
the English coast the shoals are more even, as twenty-six, eighteen,
seventeen fathoms. To navigate the channel it is best to keep nearest
the Flemish coast, because it affords a better course, and the current
makes it easy to go north, and the sandbars such as the Galper,
Wytingh, and Goyn,[65] are more to be avoided than the Flemish banks;
and, moreover, close by the shore it is very deep, yet by the setting
of the current to the north you may soon be upon them, that is, with
an ebb tide.
[Footnote 65: Sandbanks off the southeast coast of England, called by
the English the Galloper, the Whiting, and the Goodwin Sands.]
_2d, Sunday._ Made fair progress during the night. We found ourselves
in the morning before the point of Bevesier,[66] which I sketched. The
wind was northerly with a cool air. About breakfast time a large
English ship came up behind us, which we hailed. She was from London
and bound for the Straits.[67] She had much sail on, and after passing
us, set all she had; but not long afterwards a small breeze blowing
off shore, she was compelled to begin to take in her topgallant-sails
and upperstay-sails. This was scarcely half done when her maintop-mast
and mizzentop-mast went by the board, and remained hanging on the side
of the ship. The man who was taking in the topgallant-sail fell
overboard. When this accident happened she was only a short distance
ahead of us; and we, therefore, all ran forward to the forecastle to
see whether there were any pieces of wood at our bow to damage us. We
sailed by her, close under her lee, and saw somewhat of a crowd
running about the ship. Finally they launched their jolly-boat for the
purpose of looking after the man who had fallen overboard with the
top-mast. Whether there were any more we did not know, and as we
sailed ahead of them with considerable speed, we could not see whether
they fished any one up or not; but the ship sailed before the wind the
best she could, when her top-mast went overboard; we took in very
quickly our own topgallant-sail, which we had set, but more from
precaution than necessity. Shortly afterwards it was so calm that we
merely drifted along; and being nearly midway between Bevesier and the
Isle of Wight, and the ebb tide running out, we were compelled by the
current to anchor about a mile from the shore.
[Footnote 66: Beachy Head.]
[Footnote 67: Of Gibraltar.]
About four o'clock in the afternoon Margaret came to me while I was
engaged in sketching the Isle of Wight. We talked over various matters
which were almost the same as those about which she had conversed with
my companion the day before, and I therefore met her with the same
objections.
_3d, Monday._ We did not advance any during the night, and had drifted
along; but a breeze springing up we went ahead a little. It was very
foggy, so that we could not see the land. It cleared up in the
afternoon, when we found ourselves off against the Isle of Wight; but
the wind subsiding, and the tide being spent, we ran for the point of
the island, and came to anchor in ten or eleven fathoms near some
other ships which were waiting there for a good wind and tide. The
jolly-boat was launched and our Dutch mate and two other persons went
ashore in order to see if they could obtain some fresh provisions. The
tide having passed, and the wind shifting, we signalled to them to
come on board again, which they did in the evening, when we were
already almost under sail. They brought nothing with them, except a
little milk which served us as a good refreshment for this evening.
Sailing ahead, we steered above the point with the wind W.S.W., and so
gained the open sea. There is a very strong current here, and hard
beating along the shore and around the point. The current sent us
ahead more than the wind. The coast is quite good and it is deep
enough close up to the shore.
_4th, Tuesday._ We found ourselves in the morning opposite Wight with
the wind S.S.E., and quite still. After a while there came up a
breeze. We passed Peveril Point,[68] however, with the ebb. About noon
a flute-ship[69] came near us which we hailed. She was from Amsterdam,
bound to Cadiz. It was so calm in the evening that we drifted, and
turned round several times. We perceived fifteen or eighteen large
ships on the French coast, which saluted each other with many heavy
guns. The ebb being spent, we came to anchor again in twenty-one
fathoms of water, about two miles from the shore. The flood having run
out by evening, we weighed anchor, and before we were under sail had a
fresh wind astern. We therefore set all the sail we could, having a
favorable wind and tide, by which means we came before Portland.
[Footnote 68: Durlston Head.]
[Footnote 69: A small long three-masted trading-ship.]
_5th, Wednesday._ We still had a fair wind and kept our course W. by
S. We passed Portland, and came in sight of Goutstar,[70] and arrived
off against it about noon. Our mate was of opinion that we had run by
the rock of Meeusteen or Jetston,[71] and should have it on the
larboard; but on looking out afterwards we found it right before us,
about four miles off. We had therefore to hold up and leave it on the
starboard. It is a large rock having its head just above the water. It
rises up straight, but is very much hacked, which makes it look like a
reef. Whenever the sea is rough it is under water. It is dangerous
enough, and lies far out in the channel, farther than it is marked
down on my chart. We certainly had reason here again to observe the
care of the Lord, and His protection through His good providence,
which always watches paternally over His children, shown in our
becoming aware of this rock before the evening, and just before the
evening, for we had not well gone by it before it was dark. If we had
been sailing so at night, or if we had not now discovered it, the
mate's calculation being as it was, we certainly should not have
missed sailing upon it; for when we first saw it, it was straight
before us, and we were sailing with a fair wind and tide up to it. We
were therefore touched, and thankful to the Lord. This passed, we
still, while the sun was going down clear, made Deadman's Head,[72] a
point jutting out from England, so that we reckoned we were still
twenty-eight or thirty-two miles from Falmouth Bay; but the wind had
fallen off somewhat. My calculation was, that we were about twelve or
sixteen miles from Falmouth.
[Footnote 70: Start Point.]
[Footnote 71: This dangerous reef was called by the Dutch Meeuwsteen
(Sea-mews' Rock), by the English Eddystone. Of the lighthouses for
which it has been celebrated, the first was begun in 1695.]
[Footnote 72: Dodman Point.]