"_Ye gentlemen of England who stay at home at ease,
How little do ye think upon the dangers of the seas._"
Eleven days in the Bay of Biscay off Tencriffe. A nasty sea; seems
to come everyway; knocks the ship one side and the other till she
trembles like a live thing. Engines only strong enough to keep us off
shore and we get out twice only to be driven back again. Life lines
out; fiddles on the table; water washing about saloon and cabins; one
lady, in a top berth, with her door swinging open and shut, wants to
know when we are going to be drowned; and "to have her cabin mopped
out." Another, who has been so ill ever since we left that she is
expected to die and who the captain wants to put ashore but can't
get there, has a husband looking after her. He becomes ill and she
suddenly gets well and stays so! What kind of a cure is this? The
stove breaks loose, but no fire; too much water. Rather an unlucky
ship; crank and cargo badly stowed, overmasted and undermanned; once
a fort'gallant yard came down endways through forecastle deck, lead
water tank, etc., made the splinters fly. Once a marine spike came
from aloft and stuck in the deck close to yours truly. Fog around St.
Paul's island. We took reckoning for three days but did not know where
we were. Expected to make the voyage in seventy-five days; took nearly
four months and when we did anchor ship ahead on fire broke loose and
drifted down on us, "those that go down to the sea in ships". One
night she was rolling horribly; people holding onto saloon rails,
steward came along top side rail and broke a man's hold, man flew
across and avoided crushing a girl in a red garibaldi, red hair, and
a pink ribbon (he should have crushed her) by spreading his arms and
feet as he brought up against the wall. Another steward stooped for a
turkey which was doing something in a big silver dish on the floor.
He loosed the rail as the ship rolled. Away went turkey and man,
getting to the other side. Man's head went whack. By the time he got
his wits, the ship had rolled again and the turkey was half way back.
Comforted oneself, remembering the man who when the ship was going
down, reflected that he had paid £12 to go to New York, and they "had
to take him there."
[Illustration: "Down in the Saloon Boys"--"Bay of Biscay Oh!"]