sail east-northeast, and northeast. We had sailed 72 miles. We could
not take an observation.
_21st, Wednesday._ The wind was northwest, and our course east and
east by north, with little headway. We found the latitude 58 deg. 10'; the
course held was east by north; the distance 40 miles. We, therefore,
supposed we were between Rockol and St. Kilda.[443] Towards evening
the wind shot from the north-northwest, so that we could sail
east-northeast, and afterwards northeast by east; but there was a
rolling sea, and, therefore, we could not go ahead much because it
came from the front. The wind however improved.
[Footnote 443: A remote island of the outer Hebrides, the westernmost
of the group.]
_22d, Thursday._ The wind was west-northwest, and the course northeast
by east, with the sea continuing to roll against us in front. We found
ourselves at noon in 59 deg. 5', at which we rejoiced, because we had to
enter the North Sea between the 59th and 60th degree. The distance
sailed was 88 miles upon several courses. At noon the course was set
northeast by east in order to sail above the island of little
Barro.[444] There was a small purse made up by the passengers, each
one contributing what he pleased, for the person who should first
discover land. We gave two shillings each. The minister would not give
anything. It seems that meanness is a peculiarity of this class of
people. This was done in order that the sailors might look out more
zealously for land, and so we might not fall upon land unexpectedly.
The purse was nailed to the mast, so that, being always in sight, it
might be a constant incentive, and whoever might first see land might
take it off. We were becalmed the whole night.
[Footnote 444: Apparently this does not mean the island of the
Hebrides now called Barra, but that called Bernera, west of
Lewis--Barra Major on some contemporary maps.]
_23d, Friday._ It was calm, beautiful weather. They thought they saw
land, so the sailors said, and that it was Barro, but I could observe
nothing. We also had greener water, and therefore supposed we were on
soundings. The deep lead was thrown, but at 200 fathoms it came short.
The latitude was 59 deg. 34', the wind northeast, and we sailed east, for
we were almost in the latitude of the south point of Shetland. We saw,
several times, quantities of spermaceti drifting, a yellowish fat,
which lies in the water, all together, but solid like the green scum
which floats in ditches. We also saw rockweed floating; and a small
land bird came on board the ship, from which we concluded we were
approaching land. The wind was more free, and after running out and in
it remained north-northeast. It blew so hard that the topsails had to
be reefed at first, and then taken in. We sailed sometimes east, then
east by north and east by south, and again east.
_24th, Saturday._ It blew very hard from the north-northeast
accompanied by rain, and we therefore could not ascertain the latitude
but reckoned we were in 59 deg. 20'. The course was held half way between
east and south, which brought us near the before mentioned rocks. It
became calm at night.
_25th, Sunday._ It continued calm until noon. We obtained the
latitude, 59 deg. 30'. Our progress was 40 miles, and the course a little
more north than east. At noon the wind was south and south-southeast,
with a fresh breeze. We saw this morning a flock of land birds, like
finches; also pigeons and small gulls, which keep themselves on the
shore. Towards evening it was very foggy. We sailed during the night
east-southeast.
_26th, Monday._ It was tolerably good weather, but it soon came up
thick and rainy with a strong wind. We continued sailing east by
south. Calculated the distance 56 miles. We kept a good lookout, for
my reckoning upon the one chart was out and differed from the other 32
miles. The Lord protects us from disaster, and will guide us further,
as we fully trust in Him.
_27th, Tuesday._ We had not had during the whole voyage such hard
weather as during this night. The wind was southeast and
south-southeast, with a thick mist and rain, which at last made us lie
by, with only the mizzen sail, in a hard short sea which tossed and
pitched us. We saw all day many land and sea birds which caused us to
look out carefully for land. The distance made was 84 miles. At
evening the wind was south-southwest, whereby we sailed or drifted
east by south and south-southeast until day.
_28th, Wednesday._ It was better weather, and we again began to sail.
The wind was southwest. The lower sails were well reefed, but we
shipped several heavy seas. The sea rolled the whole day. It was lucky
for a sailor that the Lord preserved him from being washed overboard
by an over-breaking sea; it was a narrow escape, but in floating off
he caught a rope or something, to which he clung and was saved. We saw
much sea-weed, and whole flocks of rock and land birds, and also a
species of ducks and geese, besides another kind of bird. Fish lines
were made ready, but we could catch nothing. The latitude was 59 deg. 51',
which was a good height and encouraged us. We sailed still
east-southeast on a maintained east course.
_29th, Thursday._ While we were at prayer this morning, "Land! Land!"
was called out; and although these prayers were so drowsy and
miserable, especially for us, who were opposed to their doctrines, I
had to restrain and mortify myself by not going up on deck, as several
did, and almost all wished to do. It was the gunner who first
discovered land, and took from the mast the little purse, in which he
found 28 shillings and 6 pence sterling, that is, fifteen guilders and
fourteen stivers, a good day's wages. The land we saw was the Orkney
Islands, 28 to 32 miles south-southeast of us, which we sketched as
well as we could. About two hours afterwards we saw very high land in
front of us to the leeward, which we supposed at first was
Fairhill,[445] an easy mistake to make, as we had made our latitude
59 deg. 48', but we soon saw other land in front on the starboard, and we
now discovered that the land to the larboard was the rock Falo, and
that on the starboard was Fairhill, which agreed very well with our
latitude. I sat on the main yard to observe how the land rose up, and
while there saw a vessel or a sail, which soon caused great
consternation on board of our ship, and still more when I said there
were two of them. They were afraid they were Turks; and so much did
this idea blind them that eyes, understanding, and reason had no
office to perform. These small vessels were certainly large ships and
Turks. Everything was put out of the way; many did not know what they
were doing from fear, which increased greatly, when they saw one of
the vessels coming towards us before the wind. It was all hurly-burly,
and every one was ordered immediately to quarters. I was very busy,
our place being on the quarter-deck where there were four guns, which
I pushed into the port holes. These were loaded and we were soon ready
for fight. In the meanwhile, the vessel coming nearer, the minister,
who should have encouraged the others, ran below into the powder room,
all trembling and shaking. He inquired if that was far enough below
water, and if he could be shot there. Another person from the East
Indies was with him. The surgeon had all things ready for the battle,
but unfortunately I looked out and saw it was a Dutch smack with a
small topsail, flying the Prince's flag. But they silenced me; Turk it
was, and Turk it should remain, and I must go back to my quarters. At
last she came alongside, and they hailed her, but could not understand
what was replied. I was then called upon to speak to them, and I went
on the stern and saw that it was as I had said. I inquired where they
were from, and what they were doing there. They answered, they were
from Amsterdam; were cruising in search of two East Indiamen which the
Chamber of Amsterdam[446] had missed, and they wanted to know whether
we had seen anything of them. We informed them we had seen no ships
since we were on the banks of Newfoundland, and we were from New
England, bound to London. We asked if there were any danger from the
Turks. None at all, they said, which gave courage to our captain and
others, as well as the minister, who had emerged from the powder room,
where he had hidden himself. We also inquired how affairs stood with
England, Holland, and France. They answered, well, as far as they
knew. Having obtained this information, I told our captain such good
news was worth a salute, and he fired a six-pounder shotted. The Dutch
captain asked for a little tobacco in exchange for pickled herrings;
but many excuses were offered, and he got none. He said the other
vessel was a Hollander from Iceland, and we had nothing to fear; that
almost all the ships which we might see in the North Sea were ships
from Holland; a remark which annoyed our captain and the others very
much; and not being able to stand it, they tacked about ship and wore
off, leaving the cruiser and passing outside, or between Fairhill and
the Orkneys.
[Footnote 445: Fair Isle is a lonely island midway between the Orkney
and Shetland islands. Sailing between these groups, the voyagers saw
first Orkney, then Foula Island (here Falo), then Fair Isle. The
manuscript contains at this point profile sketches of the islands of
Fairhill and Foula.]
[Footnote 446: The Chamber of Amsterdam was one of the local component
boards of the Dutch East India Company.]
_30th, Friday._ We had lain over again at midnight, with a
south-southwest wind. At daybreak it was entirely calm. I was called
out of my berth to go to the captain, in order to discriminate the
land, distinguishing Fairhill and the Orkneys. He exhibited great
ignorance and fear, for we had seen the land well the day before, and
the cruiser had fully informed us; he knew well enough how we had
sailed during the night, and with what progress, and that we all
agreed with the foregoing height of the pole. We took several crayon
sketches of Fairhill and the other lands, the more because they are
not shown from that side in the _Zeespiegel of Lichtende Colom_.[447]
We found the latitude to-day to be 59 deg. 40'. Many birds came round the
ship, and some sparrow hawks and small blue hawks, which we caught
with our hands. We stretched over again to the Orkneys, in order to be
clear of Fairhill; the wind being southeast and southeast by east, we
had foggy and misty weather.
[Footnote 447: "Sea Mirror or Shining Column," an atlas of marine
charts published by Peter Goos of Amsterdam in various editions, in
1654 and later years.]
_31st, Saturday._ We saw the Orkneys this morning, although we had
shifted eight miles during the night. We stretched away from them
again and discovered a strong current, which the nearer Scotland and
the Orkneys it was the stronger it was. It runs mostly east and
east-southeast, and west and west-northwest. The latitude obtained was
59 deg. 26'. At evening we found ourselves about 28 or 32 miles from
Fairhill north-northeast. This is a beautiful round hill, as its name
in English denotes. We held our course with several tacks, over and
back, to reach the North Sea. We saw several ships but could not get
near enough to speak to them.
SEPTEMBER _1st, Sunday._ The weather was misty; the wind as before,
calm. Could not obtain the latitude, but we reckoned we had sailed
about forty miles, east by south. We saw some herring-busses.
_2d, Monday._ The wind continued southeast and south-southeast. The
weather was good but calm and misty. We calculated the latitude 58 deg.
40'. We kept beating from and to the shore.
_3d, Tuesday._ It was still drizzling and calm. We saw several vessels
in which we would gladly have been, in order to see if there were no
opportunity of going in them to Holland, whither they seemed to be
sailing, or at least to obtain some refreshment of fish or something
else; but the captain would not consent. At noon we turned towards the
shore and sailed mostly south.
_4th, Wednesday._ The wind southeast and south-southeast, with dead
water as if we were sailing in a river. We had been near the shore all
night, on various courses, of one, two, and three points difference.
We took a good observation, namely, 58 deg. 8'; the distance sailed was
sixty miles, the course held south-southwest. At noon the water was
greener, and we therefore supposed we were in deeper water. We saw
this morning the four _ockers_,[448] before mentioned behind us, but
we were soon afterwards out of sight of them.
[Footnote 448: Dutch fishing-boats.]
_5th, Thursday._ Our course was east by north and east-northeast, now
a little in, and then again out. The wind was mostly south-southwest.
We found the latitude 58 deg. 34', so much were we set north. We had not
gone ahead far, as there was not much wind, and the sea rolled
directly against us. We reckoned the distance to be at night forty
miles. But it was entirely calm, and the wind subsided with mist and
rain. We drifted thus all night. The deep lead was thrown at midnight,
and eighty fathoms of water were found. We endeavored to catch some
fish, but did not succeed. We caught several sparrow hawks and small
blue hawks.
_6th, Friday._ We had made little progress. The wind was northwest.
There was a thick mist with drizzling rain. Our course until noon was
east-southeast; the latitude was 59 deg.; the distance 104 miles. We spoke
an _ocker_, and inquired where we were. He said he was lying on the
reef to fish, about 136 miles, he supposed, from Newcastle in
Scotland,[449] southwest of him, which agreed well with our
calculation. Had 50 fathoms of water. This reef shoots out from the
coast of Jutland and runs into the middle of the North Sea,
northwardly around the Shetland Islands, and from thence almost to
Rockol, but it lies nearer to the Scottish coast than to the coast of
Norway, and a little more so than is represented on the chart. We
caught many birds and also swallows.
[Footnote 449: England, rather. There is no such reef or shallow as is
described below.]
_7th, Saturday._ It had been very calm through the night; but the wind
shifted to the south, and we therefore had to change our course
continually; at last it was south-southeast, and we could not sail
higher than west by north. We found the latitude 56 deg. 24', but could
not judge well because the sun was obscured. The reckoning was 55 deg.
55'; the course was south by west; the distance 56 miles. We here came
into a whole school of tunnies which afforded us great amusement. We
also saw several ships ahead of us and heard much firing of guns.
_8th, Sunday._ Calm and rainy weather. We had made, this whole night
and from noon yesterday, not more than 28 or 32 miles progress. The
course was south-southeast sailing over against the wind, in order to
come upon the Doggerbank.[450] Saw several vessels, one of which ran
before us, over to Newcastle. Reckoned at noon to-day we were 40 miles
from the Doggerbank.
[Footnote 450: The Dogger Bank is a great shoal in the North Sea,
lying between northern England and Denmark.]
_9th, Monday._ In the morning watch, threw the deep lead in 25
fathoms, sandy bottom, green, white and red. About ten o'clock we had
20 fathoms with the same ground. The atmosphere was thick and hazy.
The latitude we supposed was 55 deg. 19'. We were now certainly on the
Doggerbank. We caught many young _spier hayties_, which the English
call _dogs_, and because large numbers of these fish always keep
there, the bank, which is very large and almost makes the figure of a
fishing boat, is called the Doggerbank. At four o'clock we had 18
fathoms, and in the evening 17. The course still south-southeast, and
the wind northeast, breezy and calm, intermingled. In the night the
deep lead was thrown several times, and we found 19, 18, 15 and 14
fathoms of water.
_10th, Tuesday._ The wind blew from almost all points; at ten o'clock
it was northeast and east-northeast, with 12, 11, 10, 9-1/2 fathoms
of water. The latitude was 54 deg. 44'. We saw several large ships and
heard heavy firing of guns which made our captain and others very
serious, for we heard 40 or 50 shots. Seeing a ship behind us, we let
the sails run and waited for her. On her approaching us, we found she
was a Dutch flute;[451] and when we spoke her, they said they were
from Muscovy, bound for Amsterdam. We wished with our whole hearts we
were on board of her with our goods, for we should then sooner have
been home. There was a rolling sea, so that there was no prospect of
being put aboard of her; besides, the captain would not have been
willing. They could not tell us much news. We asked where they
reckoned they were, and they said not far from where we knew, that
they were on the Doggerbank. In the evening we found the water deeper
than 20 fathoms, and afterwards 25, at midnight 30, and in the day
watch 45, with a bottom of fine sand.
[Footnote 451: See p. 21, note 1.]
_11th, Wednesday._ In the forenoon, found the water more shallow, 25,
23 and 20 fathoms, and we therefore believed we had passed from the
Doggerbank to the Welle,[452] another bank so called. We obtained a
good observation, and the latitude was 54 deg. net; the ship's altitude 5'
being deducted, left 53 deg. 55', which agreed very well with our chart,
with the depth, and our reckoning. The distance was put at 40 miles.
We saw many ships around us, but could speak none. It continued calm
until evening, when we found 20 and afterwards 17 fathom water, over a
coarse red and white sandy bottom, mixed with small stones. The course
was south-southeast.
[Footnote 452: The Well Bank lies south of the Dogger Bank, and off
the mouth of the Humber.]
_12th, Thursday._ The latitude 53 deg. 45', that is, the height of our
eyes above the water being deducted; the distance 24 miles; the course
south-southeast, a little southerly. We reckoned we were at the middle
of the Welle bank. We longed for a good wind, and we were only sixty
miles from Yarmouth and 100 or 104 from Harwich. We fished a little,
only caught two or three small codfish, and hauled up with the hook a
great quantity of stone and sea weed. In the first watch the wind was
north and northeast, with slack water in 15, 14, 17, 19 and 20
fathoms. The captain therefore sailed southeast and southeast by
south, through fear of the Lemenoirs[453] and other Yarmouth shoals.
[Footnote 453: The Leman Bank lies some forty miles northeast of
Yarmouth, and south of the Well Bank; the White Water, next mentioned,
lies east of the latter, toward the Frisian coast.]
_13th, Friday._ It blew a stiff topsail breeze. We had 17 and 18
fathoms of water, which looked quite white, and made me think we were
near the White Water, another bank so named on which there is 17 and
16 fathoms. We sailed south-southwest. We waited for a herring-buss
coming towards us, and spoke to her. She was from Rotterdam, had been
at sea a long time, and had seen no land. They told us they were
between Wells and the White Water, nearer the latter, and that South
Foreland was south-southwest of us. They could tell us nothing more.
We wished we were in the buss, for then we might have been in the Maes
that evening, as she had a good wind. The latitude was 52 deg. 50'. We
sailed southwest in 23 fathoms of water, with a bottom of fine sand a
little reddish and mixed with black. In sailing towards the shore we
had 18 fathoms; when about three, or half past three o'clock in the
afternoon they cried out, Land! and proceeding further on, we saw the
grove near Yarmouth, and shortly afterwards Yarmouth steeple,
southwest by west and west-southwest from us. We sailed more southerly
and discovered the whole coast. We came to anchor about seven o'clock
in 16 fathoms.
_14th, Saturday._ It had been good weather through the night, and we
had rested well. We saw when the sun rose, which shone against the
coast and was entirely clear, how the coast ran. The land is not so
high as it is west of the Thames to Land's End. There are many
villages. Yarmouth looked like a pleasant little place, as it lay
north-northwest of us. We saw many ships sailing one way and the
other. Having waited for the ebb to run out we got under sail about
eight o'clock. We sailed by Sowls,[454] and came to anchor again about
three o'clock in the afternoon. The passengers had everything ready to
go ashore, and so overland to London. There was a signal made with the
flag from our ship, and a shot fired for a pilot or some one else to
come on board. Towards evening a small boat came with five men, but no
pilot. The flood making about nine or ten o'clock in the evening, and
running along the whole Scottish and English coast, from the Orkneys
to the Thames, we sailed on again until we came to another village
where our passengers went ashore. It was about midnight. The weather
was fine and the moon shone bright; we fired five or six guns. The
minister was sad and complained that it was Sunday, or Saturday
evening, and he dared not go ashore, lest he should break the Sabbath;
but finally he let his wishes override his scruples, and went off with
the passengers. We obtained a pilot and some refreshments, and then
sailed on till we came before Dunwich,[455] the oldest place in
England, and once the mightiest in commerce. We came again to anchor
in order to wait for the tide. The wind continued west-southwest.
[Footnote 454: Southwold, on the Suffolk coast.]
[Footnote 455: Dunwich, now mostly under the waters of the North Sea,
was once an important place, and one of considerable antiquity. The
bishopric of the East Saxons was established there in A.D. 630;
indeed, the town dates from Roman times (Sitomagus).]
_15th, Sunday._ The wind mostly as before. We were under sail about
ten o'clock, with the flood tide, and tacked along the land in seven
fathoms of water to the point of Aldborough,[456] to reach which we
made five or six short tacks. Running close to the shore, we came
among a fleet of, I think, full 200 coal ships, all beating up the
river, which made it difficult to avoid each other. We passed through
the King's Channel. I have never seen so many sunken ships as there
were in the mouth of the Thames, full eight or ten in different
places, from various causes. The tide being spent we came to anchor
before a village called St. Peter.
[Footnote 456: Still on the Suffolk coast. The King's Channel,
mentioned below, was the chief entrance into the estuary of the Thames
from the northeast.]
_16th, Monday._ The wind being mostly north, the weather was cold and
piercing. The whole fleet was under sail, with the flood tide, and we
along with them. They had talked loudly in Boston of the sailing
qualities of our ship, but almost the whole coal fleet sailed ahead of
us.
_18th, Wednesday._ The wind remained still, with mist. We saw it would
be some days yet before the ship would reach the city, and therefore
determined to go up in a wherry, that is a row-boat, from Gravesend.
As soon as one came alongside we went aboard, and passed by Gravesend
and other villages. It was nine o'clock in the evening when we landed
at St. Catharines,[457] and went to a tavern called the Dutch Smack,
but they would not receive us. We then went to the Inlander, the
landlord of which was a Fleming, and a Papist, but not the worst one.
We paid for the boat three English shillings in all. We three, namely,
Vorsman, Jan Owins, the surgeon of our ship, a Rotterdammer, and
myself, supped together; this was the first time we had slept in a bed
in a long time.
[Footnote 457: Just east of the Tower of London, where now are the St.
Katharine Docks.]
_19th, Thursday._ We went through the city, the newly built
portion[458] as well as the other, but we found it very different from
what we had imagined. We went to the Exchange and conversed with our
captain and the other passengers. We endeavored to find the first
vessel going to Holland. They told us there were two smacks or galiots
lying ready, and would leave on Monday, for which we prepared
ourselves.
[Footnote 458: Meaning the part newly built since the Great Fire of
1666.]