"Splendidly done, Mr Howard; a very fine bit of seamanship!" exclaimed
Captain Vavassour, when at length the frigate was fairly round, and was
once more going through the water; "you must allow me to compliment you;
to tack ship successfully in such a wind and sea as this is no mean
feat, in my opinion, and the slightest error of judgment, a single
second of hesitation, must have resulted in failure."
"Thank you, Captain Vavassour," answered the first luff, flushing with
pleasure at the skipper's praise. "I feel intensely gratified at your
appreciation. But you really make too much of it, sir; it is not I to
whom the merit actually belongs, but to the ship herself--she works as
handily as a little boat; and I had such perfect confidence in her that
I really longed to try the experiment; although I grant you that I do
not know another ship with which I should care to make the same attempt
under similar conditions."
"No, indeed," agreed the Captain. "Still, it is only by making these
experiments with a new ship that we can learn just how far she may be
depended upon to do a certain thing at a critical moment, and the lesson
is a most useful one to learn. It seems inclined to clear a bit, I
think, for surely that is the French ship I see yonder--there, just
clear of the fore-rigging."
"Yes, sir, that is she, beyond a doubt," answered the first lieutenant.
"And I fancy we shall see her a good deal more distinctly a few minutes
hence, when we bring her more abeam. The driving of a big chap like
that ashore, without so much as a single casualty on our part, ought to
be a feather in our cap, I think, for she is as good as a lost ship; she
will never again leave that berth."
"No," agreed the skipper, "I do not believe she will; indeed it appears
to me that--The glass if you please, Mr Delamere."
I handed him the instrument and he applied it to his eye for a full
minute or more.
"Yes," he continued, handing over the telescope to Mr Howard, "I think
I am not mistaken; take a squint at her yourself, Howard, and tell me
whether she does not look as though her back had already broken."
In his turn the first luff peered long and earnestly through the tube.
At length, lowering it from his eye, he said:
"It is rather difficult to speak with absolute assurance, sir, for the
sea breaks so violently over her that it is almost impossible to get a
sight of the whole of her hull at any given moment; still I am inclined
to say that not only is her back broken, but that she has actually
parted in two amidships. If you will look at her very carefully I think
you will agree with me that her hull shows a distinct twist, and that
her after-end has a much heavier list than her bows."
At this moment eight bells struck, and as the midshipman who was to
relieve me was already on deck, and as I was pretty nearly wet through
with the spray that the frigate was now throwing over herself in
drenching showers, I went below to change and to get a cup of hot
coffee.
The two succeeding hours, constituting the first dog-watch, brought a
material change for the worse in the condition of the weather; for while
the haze had cleared away, enabling us to see the land distinctly to
leeward, some six miles distant, the wind had increased to such an
extent that sail had been reduced to close-reefed topsails and reefed
courses, while the sea had risen in proportion and was now so heavy that
the frigate was literally smothering herself forward at every plunge.
The fact was that she was being terribly over-driven; yet the skipper
had no alternative. He dared not relieve the ship of another inch of
canvas, for we were on a lee-shore, and embayed, the land astern curving
out to windward so far that its farthest visible projection bore a full
point on our weather quarter, while our charts told us that beyond that
point the dreaded Penmarks stretched out still farther to windward.
Moreover it was almost as bad ahead, for although Point du Raz, some
seven miles distant, then bore nearly three points on the lee-bow, we
knew that stretching out to seaward from that point there was a
dangerous reef, with only a comparatively narrow passage between it and
the equally dangerous reef stretching out to the southward and eastward
from the Isle de Seins, and it was an open question whether we should be
able to fetch that passage and pass through it. To all appearance
Captain Vavassour was perfectly calm and collected, yet he looked
decidedly grave, and I thought it seemed rather portentous that the
master should be his companion. The latter appeared to be doing most of
the talking, and it was clear to see that he at least was distinctly
anxious. At length, apparently by way of reply to a few words from the
Captain, he went below and, a minute or two later, returned to the deck
with his chart under his arm; then, with a long look into the binnacle,
he and the skipper passed into the cabin together. I immediately seized
the opportunity to take a squint myself at the compass, noting the exact
bearing of the point on the lee-bow and the direction in which the ship
was heading. Then I went down below into the midshipmen's berth, where
Maxwell, the master's-mate, was laboriously endeavouring to translate
some French book with the aid of a grammar and a dictionary.
"Here, drop that, Maxwell," I exclaimed, "and let us have a look at your
chart, that we may see what the next hour or two has in store for us.
If I am anything of a physiognomist the master is fervently wishing that
he was at home with his wife and family to-night, instead of where he
is, while the skipper, too, looks anything but cheerful. They have both
gone into the cabin, and Trimble has taken his chart with him."
"Well, there is no particular reason why he should not do that, is
there?" demanded Maxwell. "And why should he be especially anxious now,
more than at any other time? Things are all right on deck, aren't
they?"
"Ay," answered I, "up to a certain point they are. But reach down your
chart, and produce your parallel ruler and dividers, my hearty; I want
to get some sort of notion of what is ahead of us."
"What, are you frightened too, then?" demanded Maxwell, as he pushed
away his books and reached up for the chart.
"No, certainly not," answered I. "But it is indisputable that the ship
is embayed on a lee-shore, and that it is blowing a whole gale of wind.
If, therefore, there is a prospect of our being obliged to swim for our
lives presently, I should like to know it."
"Oh, hang it all, man, it surely is not nearly so bad as that, is it?"
demanded the mate, as he spread the chart out on the table.
"Oh, isn't it?" retorted Gascoigne, another midshipman, who had just
come below in time to hear the tail-end of my remark and Maxwell's reply
to it. "It is evident that you have not been on deck within the last
hour, or you wouldn't say that. Why, man alive, if you would just pull
yourself together enough to become conscious of the antics of the hooker
you would understand that she is being driven as no ship ought to be
driven without good and sufficient cause. There,"--as the frigate
plunged dizzily, rolling at the same moment almost over on her beam-ends
and quivering violently throughout her whole fabric at the shock of the
sea that had struck her, while plates, pannikins, cups and saucers,
knives and forks, books, candles, and a heterogeneous assortment of
sundries flew from the racks and shelves with a clattering crash, and
constituted a very pretty "general average" on the deck--"what d'ye
think of that, my noble knight of the sextant?"
"You just gather up that wreckage, my son, and put the unbroken things
back into their places," exclaimed Maxwell. "Also, clap a stopper upon
your jawing tackle, younker; you have altogether too much too say, for a
little 'un. Here, you Fleming--" to another mid, who was lying upon a
locker with his hands clasped under his head by way of a pillow--"rouse
and bitt, my hearty, and make yourself useful for once in a way; grab
the corners of this chart and hold them down to the table until I give
you a spell. That's it. Now then, Delamere, what is it that you want
to know?"
"First of all," I said, "prick off the ship's position as it was a
quarter of an hour ago. There is Point du Raz. Very well: when I came
below it bore exactly North 3 quarters East by compass, distant, say,
seven miles. Mark off that bearing and distance, to start with."
Maxwell did so, making a little dot with his pencil on the chart.
"There you are," he said. "Now, what next?"
"The ship was heading North-North-West," I said. "What I want to know
is, Are we going to weather that point; and, if so, what lies beyond
it?"
"Ah!" exclaimed Maxwell, as the critical nature of our situation began
to dawn upon him, "I see--or, rather, we shall see in a minute or two.
Gascoigne, were you on deck when the log was last hove? If you were
not, you ought to have been, you know, and--"
"I was," interrupted Gascoigne. "She was doing a bare seven, and making
two and a half points leeway."
"Whew!" whistled Maxwell; "two and a half points! That's bad. The old
girl ought to be ashamed of herself. No self-respecting frigate ought
ever to make more than two points leeway."
"Oh, oughtn't she!" jeered Gascoigne. "You just go up on deck and see
how every sea that hits her knocks her bodily to leeward, and you'll
tell a different story, my friend."
"Well, well, I'll take your word for it this time, young man, just to
encourage you a bit, you know. Now, let's see how that works out. How
did you say she was heading, Delamere?"
"Nor'-nor'-west," I repeated.
"Nor'-nor'-west," echoed Maxwell, seizing his parallel ruler and
applying it to the chart. "And two and a half points of leeway, applied
to the right, makes it north, half east; while Point du Raz bears--or
bore--north, three-quarters east. Um! It's going to be `touch and go'
with us, I am afraid, at that rate; for while she will doubtless weather
the point itself all right, there is that out-jutting reef, which is as
likely as not to bring us up with a round turn."
"And supposing we should be lucky enough to scrape past," I inquired,
"is there anything beyond that we need worry about? I am almost certain
that I heard the master say something about `Les Stevenets,' or some
such name."
"Les Stevenets," repeated Maxwell--"yes, of course; there they are,
about two and a half miles to the nor'-west of the point. But I don't
see why old Trimble need worry about them, for if we can't weather them
there is plenty of room for us to pass them to leeward, after having
done which we shall have plenty of time to decide upon our next move.
That is our critical point." And he put his finger on Point du Raz.
"I'm going on deck to see how things look."
So saying, Maxwell rolled up his chart, put it and his instruments away,
turned up the collar of his jacket, and sprang up the ladder, Gascoigne,
Fleming, and I following him.
Upon our arrival the first thing I noticed was that the Captain, the
first luff, and the master were all standing together close under the
shelter of the weather bulwarks, apparently holding a sort of council of
war. The weather, I thought, looked somewhat more promising than it had
done when I went below; for the sky to windward had broken, displaying a
very wild and stormy sunset, it is true, yet the fact that the heavy,
lowering canopy of cloud had broken up at all seemed to indicate that
the worst would soon be over. But it was still blowing very heavily,
and while the atmosphere was now quite clear of mist, permitting us a
view to the extreme confines of the horizon, everything--the wild,
tumultuously heaving sea to windward, and the land ahead and to
leeward--showed a preternaturally hard outline. Point du Raz was now
about three miles distant and bore about a point, or maybe a trifle more
on the lee-bow, with the surf breaking furiously upon the reef which
projected beyond it, while the leeward extremity of the reef jutting out
from the easternmost extremity of the Isle de Seins lay dead ahead,
smothered in boiling surf, the passage between the two reefs now looking
alarmingly narrow. And it was through that passage we must win safety!
I was of course on the lee-side of the deck, so I could only catch an
occasional disconnected word of what passed between the trio to
windward, but I presently gathered that the master seemed to be
endeavouring to persuade the skipper to wear ship while we still had
room enough to execute that manoeuvre; but Captain Vavassour appeared to
be objecting, upon the plea that, once on the other side of the point,
we had nothing more to fear, whereas, should we wear ship now, we should
be heading for the Penmarks as soon as we got round upon the other tack,
and should reach them, and be faced with the task of weathering them
during the hours of darkness. The skipper, it was evident, was all for
grappling with the nearest danger, for the reason that we should at
least have light enough to see what we were doing; and Mr Howard seemed
to side with him.
"But, sir," remonstrated the master desperately, "have you considered
what must inevitably happen if a flaw of wind should come round that
point, at the critical moment, and break us off, as it is likely enough
to do?"
"Well, n-o," answered the Captain slowly, "I had not thought of that, I
must confess, for I do not believe that such a thing is at all likely to
happen. But I am very much obliged to you for mentioning it, Mr
Trimble, for `forewarned is forearmed,' and in circumstances like the
present it is our bounden duty to take every possible precaution for the
safety of the ship. I am still of opinion that unless something
unforeseen--such, for instance, as the occurrence which you have just
suggested--should happen, we shall weather the point, and go clear; but,
to provide against anything of that sort, Mr Howard," turning to the
first luff, "be good enough to see everything ready for club-hauling the
ship. Have the best bower-cable ranged, double-bitt it, and stopper it
at, say, thirty fathoms. Mr Galway--where is Mr Galway? Mr
Delamere, be good enough to find Mr Galway, and say I want him--or--no,
tell him that it may be necessary to club-haul the ship, and request him
to muster the carpenter and his mates below, ready to cut away the best
bower at the instant that I give the word. Then come back to me; I may
want you."
"Ay, ay, sir," I answered, touching my hat; and away I went, heading for
the second lieutenant's cabin. I met him just coming out, somebody
having already passed the word that the Captain wanted him. I delivered
the skipper's message, received his assurance that all should be ready,
and then returned to the quarter-deck.
Presently Mr Howard returned to inform Captain Vavassour that his
orders had been carried out.
"Very well, sir," answered the skipper. "Let the men go to their
stations for tacking ship. Hands by the best bower-anchor! Oblige me,
Mr Howard, by seeing personally that the anchor is all ready for
letting go, and also that it is let go on the instant, should I give the
order. If at the last moment it should become necessary to club-haul, I
will personally take charge. Mr Delamere, find one of the boatswain's
mates and station him below at the main hatchway, in such a position
that he can see you on deck here, with instructions to wind his call to
cut the cable the moment that he receives the signal which I will pass
on to you."
The critical moment was now close at hand; the point which we were
endeavouring to weather was less than a mile ahead, and still far enough
on the lee-bow to justify the hope that we might yet go clear. But the
scene, generally, was of so alarming a character, and our situation was
so critical, that even the bravest man there might well have been
excused if he failed to regard it altogether without apprehension. For
it was now blowing harder than ever, the sea was breaking with
absolutely appalling fury on the reef--speaking eloquently of the fate
that awaited us all in the event of failure--and the over-driven ship,
so heavily pressed down by her canvas that the lee-side of her
quarter-deck and waist was all afloat, groaned and complained in every
timber as she literally fought her way through the opposing seas,
smothering herself forward so completely at every mad plunge that those
who were standing by to let go the anchor had been compelled to lash
themselves firmly at their posts to avoid being washed overboard. Add
to all this the fierce shriek and howl of the wind through the rigging
aloft, the groaning of the masts in their partners, and of the main
tack, as the ship rolled to windward, the thunderous shocks of the seas
as they smote our bows and shattered into blinding sheets of spray that
flew as high as the foretop and drenched the lee clew of the topsail,
and the sight of the spars bending and whipping to the terrific strain
that they were called upon to bear,--remembering, too, that if anything
should carry away just then it would mean the utter destruction of the
ship and the loss of all hands,--and the reader may be able dimly to
picture the feelings that animated the ship's company of the _Europa_ on
that occasion.
Even the skipper looked a shade paler than usual as he slowly brought
the speaking-trumpet from behind him and prepared to raise it to his
lips. We were now so near the reef that we could hear the hollow
booming thunder and crash of the sea breaking upon it; its outer
extremity was within half-a-cable's length of our lee-bow, and it was
evident that, even if all went well, it was going to be "touch and go"
with us, when suddenly the ship came upright and the sails flapped with
a report like the discharge of a 32-pounder! That fatal flaw of wind
round the Point, which the master had foreseen, had come upon us.
Up went the trumpet to the Captain's lips, and from it issued the
bellowing call of--"Hands, 'bout ship! Ready oh, ready! Down helm,
quartermaster! Stand by to let go at the word, Mr Howard!"
"Ay, ay, sir!" came the response, faintly heard above the howl of the
wind, the thunder of the surf on the rocks to leeward, the heavy "slosh"
of a sea in over the bows, and the hair-raising slatting of the canvas
overhead.
The ship, in obedience to her lee-helm, had come up about a point, still
forging ahead, and bringing the outer extremity of the reef broad on our
lee-bow, when suddenly the canvas, with a terrific report, filled again,
and the ship careened to her bearings.
"Up helm, quartermaster, hard up with it, and let her go off again! We
shall do it yet, by Jupiter!" ejaculated the skipper, in a voice that
quivered with excitement, while the master, who had been standing close
by all the while, sprang to the wheel and lent his strength to put it
over.
"Steady the wheel," was the next order, as the ship paid off again, and
once more began to gather way; "thus and no nearer, quartermaster; keep
her full, and let her go through the water! What are you about, sir?"--
as the ship suddenly griped and the weather leach of the fore-topsail
shook.
"It is the undertow--the recoil of the surf from the reef that is
hawsing her bows up into the wind, sir," explained the master, as he
strained at the wheel, with the sweat trickling down from underneath the
rim of his hat. "There--now she falls off again--steady as you go."
As the master let go the wheel, took off his hat, and drew forth a
pocket-handkerchief to wipe his streaming visage, the end of the reef
drew fair abeam, and so close that I could almost have leaped from the
main rigging into the boil of surf that seethed and hissed and swirled
about the black fangs of rock that showed here and there above water.
But the danger was over, for as the ship went plunging and surging past
one could see how, every time she lifted, she was, as it were, dragged
bodily to windward by the strong undertow, and a minute later the reef
was astern, but fast working out on the weather quarter, showing quite
clearly how exceedingly narrow had been our escape.
"Hold on there with the anchor, Mr Howard!" shouted the skipper. The
first lieutenant waved his hand and came aft, wet to the skin, and his
clothes streaming with water as though he had been overboard--as indeed
he had, to all intents and purposes; for while standing on the
forecastle, waiting for the order to let go the anchor, he had been
quite as much under water as above it.
"That is as narrow a squeak as I have ever beheld, sir," he exclaimed,
as he joined the skipper. "If it had not been for that half-board that
we involuntarily made, we should never have done it."
"No," agreed the skipper; "I believe that not even the undertow would
have saved us. However, `all's well that ends well,' so we will first
take the mainsail off her, Mr Howard, and then you may splice the
main-brace and call the watch. Let her go along clean full,
quartermaster; there is nothing to leeward now that we need be afraid
of. How's her head?"
"Nor'-nor'-west, sir," answered the quartermaster.
The clewing-up and stowing of the mainsail, without allowing it to
thresh itself to ribbons, was a task of no little difficulty,
considering the violence with which the gale was still blowing; but our
first luff was seaman enough to accomplish it without mishap. No sooner
was it off the ship than she once more resumed her former buoyancy of
motion, lifting easily over the seas, with only an occasional sprinkling
of spray upon the forecastle, instead of ploughing furiously through
them and drowning the whole of the fore-deck, as she had been doing
during her endeavour to work out to windward of Point du Raz; so great,
indeed, was the improvement in our condition generally that, although it
was still blowing very heavily, we all felt as though we had suddenly
passed into fine weather after our recent buffeting.
Some three-quarters of an hour later we passed Les Stevenets. I believe
we might have weathered them had we really made a serious effort to do
so, but there was no need. In this case, unlike that of Point du Raz,
we had the option of going to leeward if we chose, and the skipper _did_
choose. He had evidently had enough of close shaves for one day, and
the moment he recognised that we should have another if he made the
attempt to weather that group of rocks, he ordered the helm to be put
up, and we passed to leeward of them, giving them a good wide berth. We
had no stomach for again viewing surf-washed rocks at such close
quarters as we had been fated to do that day.
By the time that we were well clear of Les Stevenets night had fallen;
but for the previous hour the sky had been gradually clearing, so that
by the end of the second dog-watch it was a fine, clear, star-lit night.
The wind, too, was distinctly moderating; while the sea, although still
very high, was longer, more regular, and not quite so steep as it had
been; in a word, the gale had broken, and by midnight we were once more
under courses and single-reefed topsails. By the end of the middle
watch we were able to shake out the reefs in our topsails and set the
topgallantsails, after which we hove about and headed south once more,
passing well to windward of the Isle de Seins and its outlying reefs
about noon next day.