Saturday, July 18th. This day sailed the Mexican hermaphrodite
brig Fazio, for San Blas and Mazatlan. This was the brig which was
driven ashore at San Pedro in a southeaster, and had been lying at
San Diego to repair and take in her cargo. The owner of her had
had a good deal of difficulty with the government about the
duties, &c., and her sailing had been delayed for several weeks;
but everything having been arranged, she got under way with a
light breeze, and was floating out of the harbor, when two
horsemen came dashing down to the beach at full speed, and tried
to find a boat to put off after her; but there being none then at
hand, they offered a handful of silver to any Kanaka who would
swim off and take a letter on board. One of the Kanakas, an
active, well-made young fellow, instantly threw off everything but
his duck trousers, and, putting the letter into his hat, swam off,
after the vessel. Fortunately the wind was very light, and the
vessel was going slowly, so that, although she was nearly a mile
off when he started, he gained on her rapidly. He went through the
water leaving a wake like a small steamboat. I certainly never saw
such swimming before. They saw him coming from the deck, but did
not heave-to, suspecting the nature of his errand; yet, the wind
continuing light, he swam alongside, and got on board, and
delivered his letter. The captain read the letter, told the Kanaka
there was no answer, and, giving him a glass of brandy, left him
to jump overboard and find the best of his way to the shore. The
Kanaka swam in for the nearest point of land, and in about an hour
made his appearance at the hide-house. He did not seem at all
fatigued, had made three or four dollars, got a glass of brandy,
and was in high spirits. The brig kept on her course, and the
government officers, who had come down to forbid her sailing, went
back, each with something very like a flea in his ear, having
depended upon extorting a little more money from the owner.
It was now nearly three months since the Alert arrived at Santa
Barbara, and we began to expect her daily. About half a mile
behind the hide-house was a high hill, and every afternoon, as
soon as we had done our work, some one of us walked up to see if
there was a sail in sight, coming down before the regular trades.
Day after day we went up the hill, and came back disappointed. I
was anxious for her arrival, for I had been told by letter, that
the owners in Boston, at the request of my friends, had written to
Captain Thompson to take me on board the Alert, in case she
returned to the United States before the Pilgrim; and I, of
course, wished to know whether the order had been received, and
what was the destination of the ship. One year, more or less,
might be of small consequence to others, but it was everything to
me. It was now just a year since we sailed from Boston, and, at
the shortest, no vessel could expect to get away under eight or
nine months, which would make our absence two years in all. This
would be pretty long, but would not be fatal. It would not
necessarily be decisive of my future life. But one year more might
settle the matter. I might be a sailor for life; and although I
had pretty well made up my mind to it before I had my letters from
home, yet, as soon as an opportunity was held out to me of
returning, and the prospect of another kind of life was opened to
me, my anxiety to return, and, at least, to have the chance of
deciding upon my course for myself, was beyond measure. Beside
that, I wished to be ``equal to either fortune,'' and to qualify
myself for an officer's berth, and a hide-house was no place to
learn seamanship in. I had become experienced in hide-curing, and
everything went on smoothly, and I had many opportunities of
becoming acquainted with the people, and much leisure for reading
and studying navigation; yet practical seamanship could only be
got on board ship, therefore I determined to ask to be taken on
board the ship when she arrived. By the first of August we
finished curing all our hides, stored them away, cleaned out our
vats (in which latter work we spent two days, up to our knees in
mud and the sediments of six months' hide-curing, in a stench
which would drive a donkey from his breakfast), and got all in
readiness for the arrival of the ship, and had another leisure
interval of three or four weeks. I spent these, as usual, in
reading, writing, studying, making and mending my clothes, and
getting my wardrobe in complete readiness in case I should go on
board the ship; and in fishing, ranging the woods with the dogs,
and in occasional visits to the presidio and mission. A good deal
of my time was passed in taking care of a little puppy, which I
had selected from thirty-six that were born within three days of
one another at our house. He was a fine, promising pup, with four
white paws, and all the rest of his body of a dark brown. I built
a little kennel for him, and kept him fastened there, away from
the other dogs, feeding and disciplining him myself. In a few
weeks I brought him into complete subjection, and he grew nicely,
was much attached to me, and bade fair to be one of the leading
dogs on the beach. I called him Bravo, and all I regretted at the
thought of leaving the beach was parting from him and the Kanakas.
Day after day we went up the hill, but no ship was to be seen, and
we began to form all sorts of conjectures as to her whereabouts;
and the theme of every evening's conversation at the different
houses, and in our afternoon's paseo upon the beach, was the ship,--
where she could be, had she been to San Francisco, how many
hides she would bring, &c., &c.
Tuesday, August 25th. This morning the officer in charge of our
house went off beyond the point a-fishing, in a small canoe, with
two Kanakas; and we were sitting quietly in our room at the
hide-house, when, just before noon, we heard a complete yell of
``Sail ho!'' breaking out from all parts of the beach at once,--
from the Kanakas' oven to the Rosa's hide-house. In an instant
every one was out of his house, and there was a tall, gallant
ship, with royals and skysails set, bending over before the strong
afternoon breeze, and coming rapidly round the point. Her yards
were braced sharp up; every sail was set, and drew well; the stars
and stripes were flying from her mizzen-peak, and, having the tide
in her favor, she came up like a race-horse. It was nearly six
months since a new vessel had entered San Diego, and, of course,
every one was wide awake. She certainly made a fine appearance.
Her light sails were taken in, as she passed the low, sandy tongue
of land, and clewing up her head sails, she rounded handsomely to
under her mizzen topsail, and let go her anchor at about a cable's
length from the shore. In a few minutes the topsail yards were
manned, and all three of the topsails furled at once. From the
fore top-gallant yard, the men slid down the stay to furl the jib,
and from the mizzen top-gallant yard, by the stay, into the
main-top, and thence to the yard; and the men on the topsail yards
came down the lifts to the yard-arms of the courses. The sails
were furled with great care, the bunts triced up by jiggers, and
the jibs stowed in cloth. The royal-yards were then struck,
tackles got upon the yard-arms and the stay, the long-boat hoisted
out, a large anchor carried astern, and the ship moored. This was
the Alert.
The gig was lowered away from the quarter, and a boat's crew of
fine lads, between the ages of fourteen and eighteen, pulled the
captain ashore. The gig was a light whale-boat, handsomely
painted, and fitted up with cushions and tiller-ropes in the stern
sheets. We immediately attacked the boat's crew, and got very
thick with them in a few minutes. We had much to ask about Boston,
their passage out, &c., and they were very curious to know about
the kind of life we were leading upon the beach. One of them
offered to exchange with me, which was just what I wanted, and we
had only to get the permission of the captain.
After dinner the crew began discharging their hides, and, as we
had nothing to do at the hide-houses, we were ordered aboard to
help them. I had now my first opportunity of seeing the ship which
I hoped was to be my home for the next year. She looked as well on
board as she did from without. Her decks were wide and roomy
(there being no poop, or house on deck, which disfigures the after
part of most of our vessels), flush fore and aft, and as white as
flax, which the crew told us was from constant use of holystones.
There was no foolish gilding and gingerbread work, to take the eye
of landsmen and passengers, but everything was ``ship-shape.''
There was no rust, no dirt, no rigging hanging slack, no fag-ends
of ropes and ``Irish pendants'' aloft, and the yards were squared
``to a t'' by lifts and braces. The mate was a hearty fellow, with
a roaring voice, and always wide awake. He was ``a man, every inch
of him,'' as the sailors said; and though ``a bit of a horse,''
and ``a hard customer,'' yet he was generally liked by the crew.
There was also a second and third mate, a carpenter, sailmaker,
steward, and cook, and twelve hands before the mast. She had on
board seven thousand hides, which she had collected at the
windward, and also horns and tallow. All these we began
discharging from both gangways at once into the two boats, the
second mate having charge of the launch, and the third mate of the
pinnace. For several days we were employed in this way, until all
the hides were taken out, when the crew began taking in ballast,
and we returned to our old work, hide-curing.
Saturday, August 29th. Arrived, brig Catalina, from the windward.
Sunday, August 30th. This was the first Sunday that the Alert's
crew had been in San Diego, and of course they were all for going
up to see the town. The Indians came down early, with horses to
let for the day, and those of the crew who could obtain liberty
went off to the Presidio and Mission, and did not return until
night. I had seen enough of San Diego, and went on board and spent
the day with some of the crew, whom I found quietly at work in the
forecastle, either mending and washing their clothes, or reading
and writing. They told me that the ship stopped at Callao on the
passage out, and lay there three weeks. She had a passage of a
little over eighty days from Boston to Callao, which is one of the
shortest on record. There they left the Brandywine frigate, and
some smaller American ships of war, and the English frigate
Blonde, and a French seventy-four. From Callao they came directly
to California, and had visited every port on the coast, including
San Francisco. The forecastle in which they lived was large,
tolerably well lighted by bull's-eyes, and, being kept perfectly
clean, had quite a comfortable appearance; at least, it was far
better than the little, black, dirty hole in which I had lived so
many months on board the Pilgrim. By the regulations of the ship,
the forecastle was cleaned out every morning; and the crew, being
very neat, kept it clean by some regulations of their own, such as
having a large spit-box always under the steps and between the
bits, and obliging every man to hang up his wet clothes, &c. In
addition to this, it was holystoned every Saturday morning. In the
after part of the ship was a handsome cabin, a dining-room, and a
trade-room, fitted out with shelves, and furnished with all sorts
of goods. Between these and the forecastle was the
``between-decks,'' as high as the gun-deck of a frigate, being six
feet and a half, under the beams. These between-decks were
holystoned regularly, and kept in the most perfect order; the
carpenter's bench and tools being in one part, the sailmaker's in
another, and boatswain's locker, with the spare rigging, in a
third. A part of the crew slept here, in hammocks swung fore and
aft from the beams, and triced up every morning. The sides of the
between-decks were clapboarded, the knees and stanchions of iron,
and the latter made to unship. The crew said she was as tight as a
drum, and a fine sea boat, her only fault being-- that of most
fast ships-- that she was wet forward. When she was going, as she
sometimes would, eight or nine knots on a wind, there would not be
a dry spot forward of the gangway. The men told great stories of
her sailing, and had entire confidence in her as a ``lucky ship.''
She was seven years old, had always been in the Canton trade, had
never met with an accident of any consequence, nor made a passage
that was not shorter than the average. The third mate, a young man
about eighteen years of age, nephew of one of the owners, had been
in the ship from a small boy, and ``believed in the ship''; and
the chief mate thought as much of her as he would of a wife and
family.
The ship lay about a week longer in port, when, having discharged
her cargo and taken in ballast, she prepared to get under way. I
now made my application to the captain to go on board. He told me
that I could go home in the ship when she sailed (which I knew
before); and, finding that I wished to be on board while she was
on the coast, said he had no objection, if I could find one of my
own age to exchange with me for the time. This I easily
accomplished, for they were glad to change the scene by a few
months on shore, and, moreover, escape the winter and the
southeasters; and I went on board the next day, with my chest and
hammock, and found myself once more afloat.