Joseph reported that the wind was still against us. Dr Johnson said,
'A wind, or not a wind? that is the question'; for he can amuse
himself at times with a little play of words, or rather sentences. I
remember when he turned his cup at Aberbrothick, where we drank tea,
he muttered, Claudite jam rivos, pueri. I must again and again
apologize to fastidious readers, for recording such minute
particulars. They prove the scrupulous fidelity of my Journal. Dr
Johnson said it was a very exact picture of a portion of his life.
While we were chatting in the indolent stile of men who were to stay
here all this day at least, we were suddenly roused at being told that
the wind was fair, that a little fleet of herring-busses was passing
by for Mull, and that Mr Simpson's vessel was about to sail. Hugh
M'Donald, the skipper, came to us, and was impatient that we should
get ready, which we soon did. Dr Johnson, with composure and
solemnity, repeated the observation of Epictetus, that, 'as man has
the voyage of death before him, whatever may be his employment, he
should be ready at the master's call; and an old man should never be
far from the shore, lest he should not be able to get himself ready'.
He rode, and I and the other gentlemen walked, about an English mile
to the shore, where the vessel lay. Dr Johnson said, he should never
forget Sky, and returned thanks for all civilities. We were carried to
the vessel in a small boat which she had, and we set sail very briskly
about one o'clock. I was much pleased with the motion for many hours.
Dr Johnson grew sick, and retired under cover, as it rained a good
deal. I kept above, that I might have fresh air, and finding myself
not affected by the motion of the vessel, I exulted in being a stout
seaman, while Dr Johnson was quite in a state of annihilation. But I
was soon humbled; for after imagining that I could go with ease to
America or the East Indies, I became very sick, but kept above board,
though it rained hard.
As we had been detained so long in Sky by bad weather, we gave up the
scheme that Col had planned for us of visiting several islands, and
contented ourselves with the prospect of seeing Mull, and Icolmkill
and Inchkenneth, which lie near to it.
Mr Simpson was sanguine in his hopes for a-while, the wind being fair
for us. He said, he would land us at Icolmkill that night. But when
the wind failed, it was resolved we should make for the sound of Mull,
and land in the harbour of Tobermorie. We kept near the five herring
vessels for some time; but afterwards four of them got before us, and
one little wherry fell behind us. When we got in full view of the
point of Ardnamurchan, the wind changed, and was directly against our
getting into the sound. We were then obliged to tack, and get forward
in that tedious manner. As we advanced, the storm grew greater, and
the sea very rough. Col then began to talk of making for Egg, or
Canna, or his own island. Our skipper said, he would get us into the
Sound. Having struggled for this a good while in vain, he said, he
would push forward till we were near the land of Mull, where we might
cast anchor, and lie till the morning; for although, before this,
there had been a good moon, and I had pretty distinctly seen not only
the land of Mull, but up the Sound, and the country of Morven as at
one end of it, the night was now grown very dark. Our crew consisted
of one M'Donald, our skipper, and two sailors, one of whom had but one
eye; Mr Simpson himself, Col, and Hugh M'Donald his servant, all
helped. Simpson said, he would willingly go for Col, if young Col or
his servant would undertake to pilot us to a harbour; but, as the
island is low land, it was dangerous to run upon it in the dark. Col
and his servant appeared a little dubious. The scheme of running for
Canna seemed then to be embraced; but Canna was ten leagues off, all
out of our way; and they were afraid to attempt the harbour of Egg.
All these different plans were sucessively in agitation. The old
skipper still tried to make for the land of Mull, but then it was
considered that there was no place there where we could anchor in
safety. Much time was lost in striving against the storm. At last it
became so rough, and threatened to be so much worse, that Col and his
servant took more courage, and said they would undertake to hit one of
the harbours in Col. 'Then let us run for it in God's name,' said the
skipper; and instantly we turned towards it. The little wherry which
had fallen behind us, had hard work. The master begged that, if we
made for Col, we should put out a light to him. Accordingly one of the
sailors waved a glowing peat for some time. The various difficulties
that were started, gave me a good deal of apprehension, from which I
was relieved, when I found we were to run for a harbour before the
wind. But my relief was but of short duration; for I soon heard that
our sails were very bad, and were in danger of being torn in pieces,
in which case we should be driven upon the rocky shore of Col. It was
very dark, and there was a heavy and incessant rain. The sparks of the
burning peat flew so much about, that I dreaded the vessel might take
fire. Then, as Col was a sportman, and had powder on board, I figured
that we might be blown up. Simpson and he appeared a little
frightened, which made me more so; and the perpetual talking, or
rather shouting, which was carried on in Erse, alarmed me still more.
A man is always suspicious of what is saying in an unknown tongue;
and, if fear be his passion at the time, he grows more afraid. Our
vessel often lay so much on one side, that I trembled lest she should
be overset, and indeed they told me afterwards, that they had run her
sometimes to within an inch of the water, so anxious were they to make
what haste they could before the night should be worse. I now saw what
I never saw before, a prodigious sea, with immense billows coming upon
a vessel, so as that it seemed hardly possible to escape. There was
something grandly horrible in the sight. I am glad I have seen it
once. Amidst all these terrifying circumstances, I endeavoured to
compose my mind. It was not easy to do it; for all the stories that I
had heard of the dangerous sailing among the Hebrides, which is
proverbial, came full upon my recollection. When I thought of those
who were dearest to me, and would suffer severely, should I be lost, I
upbraided myself, as not having a sufficient cause for putting myself
in such danger. Piety afforded me comfort; yet I was disturbed by the
objections that have been made against a particular providence, and by
the arguments of those who maintain that it is in vain to hope that
the petitions of an individual, or even of congregations, can have any
influence with the Deity; objections which have been often made, and
which Dr Hawkesworth has lately revived, in his preface to the Voyages
to the South Seas; but Dr Ogden's excellent doctrine on the efficacy
of intercession prevailed.
It was half an hour after eleven before we set ourselves in the course
for Col. As I saw them all busy doing something, I asked Col, with
much earnestness, what I could do. He, with a happy readiness, put
into my hand a rope, which was fixed to the top of one of the masts,
and told me to hold it till he bade me pull. If I had considered the
matter, I might have seen that this could not be of the least service;
but his object was to keep me out of the way of those who were busy
working the vessel, and at the same time to divert my fear, by
employing me, and making me think that I was of use. Thus did I stand
firm to my post, while the wind and rain beat upon me, always
expecting a call to pull my rope.
The man with one eye steered; old M'Donald, and Col and his servant,
lay upon the fore-castle, looking sharp out for the harbour. It was
necessary to carry much 'cloth', as they termed it, that is to say,
much sail, in order to keep the vessel off the shore of Col. This made
violent plunging in a rough sea. At last they spied the harbour of
Lochiern, and Col cried, 'Thank God, we are safe!' We ran up till we
were opposite to it, and soon afterwards we got into it, and cast
anchor.
Dr Johnson had all this time been quiet and unconcerned. He had lain
down on one of the beds, and having got free from sickness, was
satisfied. The truth is, he knew nothing of the danger we were in:
but, fearless and unconcerned, might have said, in the words which he
has chosen for the motto to his Rambler.
Quo me cunque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
[Footnote: For as the tempest drives, I shape my way. FRANCIS.]
Once, during the doubtful consultations, he asked whither we were
going; and upon being told that it was not certain whether to Mull or
Col, he cried, 'Col for my money!' I now went down, with Col and Mr
Simpson, to visit him. He was lying in philosophick tranquillity with
a greyhound of Col's at his back, keeping him warm. Col is quite the
Juvenis qui gaudet canibus. He had, when we left Talisker, two
greyhounds, two terriers, a pointer, and a large Newfoundland
water-dog. He lost one of his terriers by the road, but had still five
dogs with him. I was very ill, and very desirous to get to shore. When
I was told that we could not land that night, as the storm had now
increased, I looked so miserably, as Col afterwards informed me, that
what Shakspeare has made the Frenchman say of the English soldiers,
when scantily dieted, 'Piteous they will look, like drowned mice!'
might, I believe, have been well applied to me. There was in the
harbour, before us, a Campbelltown vessel, the Betty, Kenneth Morison
master, taking in kelp, and bound for Ireland. We sent our boat to beg
beds for two gentlemen, and that the master would send his boat, which
was larger than ours. He accordingly did so, and Col and I were
accommodated in his vessel till the morning.