VOYAGE TO NOOTKA SOUND
On the third day of September, 1802, we sailed from the Downs with a
fair wind, in company with twenty-four sail of American vessels, most of
which were bound home.
I was sea-sick for a few of the first days, but it was of short
continuance, and on my recovery I found myself in uncommonly fine health
and spirits, and went to work with alacrity at my forge, in putting in
order some of the muskets, and making daggers, knives, and small
hatchets for the Indian trade, while in wet and stormy weather I was
occupied below in filing and polishing them. This was my employment,
having but little to do with sailing the vessel, though I used
occasionally to lend a hand in assisting the seamen in taking in and
making sail.
As I had never before been out of sight of land, I cannot describe my
sensations, after I had recovered from the distressing effects of
sea-sickness, on viewing the mighty ocean by which I was surrounded,
bound only by the sky, while its waves, rising in mountains, seemed
every moment to threaten our ruin. Manifest as is the hand of Providence
in preserving its creatures from destruction, in no instance is it more
so than on the great deep; for whether we consider in its tumultuary
motions the watery deluge that each moment menaces to overwhelm us, the
immense violence of its shocks, the little that interposes between us
and death, a single plank forming our only security, which, should it
unfortunately be loosened, would plunge us at once into the abyss, our
gratitude ought strongly to be excited towards that superintending Deity
who in so wonderful a manner sustains our lives amid the waves.
We had a pleasant and favourable passage of twenty-nine days to the
Island of St. Catherine,[32] on the coast of Brazils, where the captain
had determined to stop for a few days to wood and water. This place
belongs to the Portuguese. On entering the harbour, we were saluted by
the fort, which we returned. The next day the governor of the island
came on board of us with his suite; Captain Salter received him with
much respect, and invited him to dine with him, which he accepted. The
ship remained at St. Catherine's four days, during which time we were
busily employed in taking in wood, water, and fresh provisions, Captain
Salter thinking it best to furnish himself here with a full supply for
his voyage to the North-West coast, so as not to be obliged to stop at
the Sandwich Islands. St. Catherine's is a very commodious place for
vessels to stop at that are bound round Cape Horn, as it abounds with
springs of fine water, with excellent oranges, plantains, and bananas.
Having completed our stores, we put to sea, and on the twenty-fifth of
December, at length passed Cape Horn, which we had made no less than
thirty-six days before, but were repeatedly forced back by contrary
winds, experiencing very rough and tempestuous weather in doubling it.
Immediately after passing Cape Horn, all our dangers and difficulties
seemed to be at an end; the weather became fine, and so little labour
was necessary on board the ship, that the men soon recovered from their
fatigue and were in excellent spirits. A few days after we fell in with
an English South Sea whaling ship homeward bound,[33] which was the only
vessel we spoke with on our voyage. We now took the trade wind or
monsoon, during which we enjoyed the finest weather possible, so that
for the space of a fortnight we were not obliged to reeve a topsail or
to make a tack, and so light was the duty and easy the life of the
sailors during this time, that they appeared the happiest of any people
in the world.
Captain Salter, who had been for many years in the East India trade, was
a most excellent seaman, and preserved the strictest order and
discipline on board his ship, though he was a man of mild temper and
conciliating manners, and disposed to allow every indulgence to his men,
not inconsistent with their duty. We had on board a fine band of music,
with which on Saturday nights, when the weather was pleasant, we were
accustomed to be regaled, the captain ordering them to play for several
hours for the amusement of the crew. This to me was most delightful,
especially during the serene evenings we experienced in traversing the
Southern Ocean. As for myself, during the day I was constantly occupied
at my forge, in refitting or repairing some of the ironwork of the
vessel, but principally in making tomahawks, daggers, etc., for the
North-West coast.
During the first part of our voyage we saw scarcely any fish, excepting
some whales, a few sharks, and flying fish; but after weathering Cape
Horn we met with numerous shoals of sea porpoises, several of whom we
caught, and as we had been for some time without fresh provisions, I
found it not only a palatable, but really a very excellent food. To one
who has never before seen them, a shoal of these fish[34] presents a
very striking and singular appearance; beheld at a distance coming
towards a vessel, they look not unlike a great number of small black
waves rolling over one another in a confused manner, and approaching
with great swiftness. As soon as a shoal is seen, all is bustle and
activity on board the ship, the grains and the harpoons are immediately
got ready, and those who are best skilled in throwing them take their
stand at the bow and along the gunwale, anxiously awaiting the welcome
troop as they come, gambolling and blowing around the vessel, in search
of food. When pierced with the harpoon and drawn on board, unless the
fish is instantly killed by the stroke, which rarely happens, it utters
most pitiful cries, greatly resembling those of an infant. The flesh,
cut into steaks and broiled, is not unlike very coarse beef, and the
harslet in appearance and taste is so much like that of a hog, that it
would be no easy matter to distinguish the one from the other; from this
circumstance the sailors have given the name of the herring hog[35] to
this fish. I was told by some of the crew, that if one of them happens
to free itself from the grains or harpoons, when struck, all the others,
attracted by the blood, immediately quit the ship and give chase to the
wounded one, and as soon as they overtake it, immediately tear it in
pieces. We also caught a large shark, which had followed the ship for
several days, with a hook which I made for the purpose, and although the
flesh was by no means equal to that of the herring hog, yet to those
destitute as we were of anything fresh, I found it eat very well. After
passing the Cape, when the sea had become calm, we saw great numbers of
albatrosses, a large brown and white bird of the goose kind, one of
which Captain Salter shot, whose wings measured from their extremities
fifteen feet. One thing, however, I must not omit mentioning, as it
struck me in a most singular and extraordinary manner. This was, that on
passing Cape Horn in December, which was midsummer in that climate, the
nights were so light, without any moon, that we found no difficulty
whatever in reading small print, which we frequently did during our
watches.
FOOTNOTES:
[32] Santa Catharina.
[33] This is now, so far as Great Britain is concerned, a reminiscence
of a vanished trade: the South Sea whaling is extinct.
[34] The zoological reader does not require to be told that the
porpoise, a very general term applied by sailors to many small species
of cetaceans, is not a "fish."
[35] _Porc poisson_ of the French, of which porpoise is simply a
corruption.