Jack In The Forecastle; Or, Incidents In The Early Life Of Hawser Martingale Part 35

"We are about thirty-five miles south-south-east of Cape Clear, and on the Nymph Bank!"

Uncle Jonas dashed his trumpet to the deck, and sprang perpendicularly four feet by actual measurement so true, it is, that astonishment prompts a man instinctively to extraordinary gymnastic exercises!

The skipper was in an awkward dilemma. He had gone across the Atlantic, with a fair and fresh breeze, safely and expeditiously enough; but he cherished strong doubts whether his skill in navigation would suffice to carry him back. He explained the case candidly to Captain Wilkinson, who, after a hearty laugh at the expense of Uncle Jonas, consented to furnish him with a navigator. He accordingly put a young man on board the schooner who was a proficient in the art of navigation an art with which the commander of a vessel on the ocean should be somewhat familiar.

As a preliminary step, the new captain caused the remainder of the "Jamaica" to be thrown overboard, and every thing else which was akin to it. Uncle Jonas begged hard to retain it as a solace under trouble; but he was overruled by the new navigator, and also the crew, all of whom felt mortified at the result of the trip thus far, and overboard it went. The head of the schooner was got round to the westward, her sails were trimmed to the breeze, and the schooner jogged along quietly in the wake of the ship until the latter was out of sight.

In due time, that is, in about thirty-five days after having spoken the ship James Monroe, for the wind was westerly nearly the whole time, the schooner Codhook reached the Grand Bank. Neither the navigator nor the crew would consent to remain there any great length of time indeed, for various reasons, all were anxious to return to Marblehead. In about a fortnight afterwards they reached the port from which they started, after an absence of about two months, having had a glorious cruise, but bringing home a slender fare.

Uncle Jonas was laughed at until the day of his death; but he always warded off the ridicule by declaring that no fishing schooner had ever before reached Cape Clear from Ma.s.sachusetts Bay in fourteen days from leaving port!

We crossed the Grand Bank in the brig Joseph, and proceeded on our way towards Cape Cod. But meeting with south-west winds after pa.s.sing the Isle of Sable, we were forced to the northward on the coast of Nova Scotia. Here we were enveloped in fogs of a density which seemed appalling. Unable to obtain a meridian observation of the sun, and swept about by unknown currents, we were uncertain of our lat.i.tude, and more than once came near wrecking the brig on that dangerous iron-bound sh.o.r.e.

After beating to windward a few days, the wind hauled us to the southward and eastward, the fog towards noon, to a very considerable extent, dispersed, and Captain Allen obtained a meridian alt.i.tude of the sun, the horizon being as he erroneously thought, well defined. Having thus determined the lat.i.tude to his satisfaction, he ordered the brig to be steered about west-south-west, which, he supposed, would carry us round Cape Sable, clear of all danger.

This cape is well known as the southern extremity of Nova Scotia, a dangerous point, on which, notwithstanding the lighthouse on its extremity, many vessels have been wrecked, and a countless number of lives have been lost. The fog again gathered around the brig soon after the sun had pa.s.sed the meridian, and became so dense that for several hour it was impossible to perceive any object, even at the distance of twenty yards from the vessel. But Captain Allen, confident in the correctness of his lat.i.tude by observation, manifested no anxiety, and kept the brig on her course, without ordering any particular lookout, which, indeed, would hardly have been of use, or using the lead.

There was a steady breeze, and the brig was going through the water at the rate of six or seven knots, when, just as the shades of evening began to fall, the thick curtain, which had hitherto surrounded us on every side, was suddenly lifted. The fog vanished as if at the will of an enchanter; and, to the consternation of Captain Allen and every person on board, we discovered craggy ledges of rock rising out of the water directly ahead and on either side, and not a quarter of a mile off!

We were running directly on Cape Sable. It was a narrow escape. The brig was immediately put round on the other tack, and we clawed off from the land with all possible speed, shuddering at the idea of the dangers which in the fog-darkness had surrounded us, and truly grateful for our preservation.

The fogs on our coast are a great impediment in the way of navigation.

They screen from view the lighthouses in the night, and the headlands in the daytime, and are often the cause of perplexity and dismay even to the most skilful navigator, and have led to the destruction of thousands of vessels. The philosopher, who, stimulated by the spirit which led Professor Espy to attempt to control the storms, change the density of the atmosphere, and produce rain in times of drought, should succeed in placing in the hands of the navigator the means of dispelling fogs at will when navigating a dangerous coast, would indeed be a benefactor to sailors, and deserve the richest tribute of grat.i.tude.

As we approached the sh.o.r.es of Ma.s.sachusetts, having been six weeks at sea, every person on board was anxious to obtain a sight of land once more, notwithstanding our vessel was stanch and strong and our provisions and water abundant. There is always a pleasant excitement among a ship's company at the prospect of soon terminating a voyage. We drew towards Cape Cod, and one night when the soundings indicated that we were not far from the sh.o.r.e, a good look-out was kept from the topsail yard for the light; but no light was visible through the night.

Soon after daybreak, the LIGHTHOUSE, right ahead, was plainly seen from the deck with the naked eye, being not more than five or six miles off.

Whether the light had been allowed to expire through inattention on the part of an unfaithful keeper, or a thick haze had collected over the land and veiled it from the view of vessels in the offing, as was suggested by some good-natured individuals, was never known.

All was now bustle and excitement. The land was in sight; the "highlands of Cape Cod" were plainly visible; the wind was north-east, and every thing indicated that we should be safely anch.o.r.ed in Boston harbor, or hauled snugly in, alongside the wharf, before another night.

It is pleasant to witness the exuberance of spirits on such an occasion.

Orders were promptly obeyed; every man moved as if he had been suddenly endued with a double portion of strength and activity; smiles lighted up every countenance; the joke and the laugh went round, and even Cato, the philosophic African, as he stood near his camboose and gazed earnestly on the barren sands, clapped his hands with glee, exhibited a store of ivory which would have excited the admiration of an elephant. Even the old brig seemed to partic.i.p.ate in the joyousness that pervaded the ship's company, and glided along smoothly and rapidly, gracefully and merrily, as if conscious that a quiet haven and a snug resting place were at hand.

Pa.s.sing Race Point we soon came in sight of the "south sh.o.r.e" of Ma.s.sachusetts By, the land hallowed by the trials and sufferings of the Pilgrims. We pa.s.sed near Coha.s.set Rocks, dangers, which, it is well known, have caused the destruction of many a n.o.ble ship and in full view of Boston lighthouse we received a pilot on board.

Pilots should be a happy as well as a useful cla.s.s of men. When a ship arrives at the entrance of a harbor, after a long pa.s.sage, the sight of a pilot carries joy to every heart. He appears truly in the guise of "a guide, philosopher, and friend," is warmly welcomed, and treated with kindness and hospitality. The news is eagerly demanded, friends are inquired for, and the words which fall from his lips are attentively listened to, carefully noted, and prized as highly as the sayings of the Delphic oracles.

The dome of the State House was soon distinctly seen; a conspicuous object, which seems to rest lightly upon the countless edifices, a mural crown upon a kingly city. We thridded the narrows, and off Long Island Head Captain Allen suddenly recollected he had a prisoner under his charge. Petersen had been released from durance in the morning as usual, and light-hearted and joyous, had toiled with the crew, apparently sympathizing in their feelings. Speaking English fluently, and well acquainted with the harbor, for he had sailed a voyage out of Boston, it would have been easy for him to slip quietly over the bow and swim to the sh.o.r.e, where, it is possible, he might have escaped the fearful punishment that awaited him for his crimes. But he made no effort to escape, and was now conducted below by the mate, handcuffed, and confined to his quarters in the half-deck.

We had no sooner anch.o.r.ed off Long Wharf than Captain Allen went ash.o.r.e, and in about an hour the United States Marshal, accompanied by a posse with handcuffs and shackles, came on board and demanded the prisoner.

Petersen was brought on deck and delivered into his hands. But his countenance had undergone an appalling change within a few hours. He seemed suddenly to have realized the horrors of his situation. His features were pale, and his eye seemed glazed with fear as he looked upon the officers of justice, and, trembling in every limb, was a.s.sisted into the boat. A sense of his guilt, and the terrible consequences, now seemed to weigh upon his spirits. The penalty exacted by the laws for the crimes of piracy and murder stared him in the face.

We arrived in Boston on the 24th of October, 1817, having been fifty-four days on our pa.s.sage from Gottenburg. I had not acc.u.mulated treasures during my wanderings, but I had improved my const.i.tution, acquired a habit of resignation and cheerfulness which bade defiance to the freaks of fortune, gained some knowledge of the world, and rejoiced in robust health, one of the greatest of earthly blessings, and which as often cheers and enlightens the condition of the poor man, as his more fortunate fellow-mortal rolling in riches.

When paid off, I found myself in possession of means to rig myself out in decent apparel, and provide myself with other exterior appurtenances of a gentleman; and also to defray my expenses on a visit to my relations in New Hampshire, from whom I had so long been separated, and whom I longed to convince by tangible proofs that I was still in the land of the living. And thus I returned from my wanderings after an absence of nearly seven years, during which I had witnessed many eventful scenes, and had studied the page of human nature in various climes.

Notwithstanding my occasional hard fortune at sea, a seafaring life still possessed many powerful attractions. I was bound to it by a charm which I did not attempt to break. Besides, I had put my hand to the plough and I would not look back. Although I had pa.s.sed many happy hours in the forecastle, free from care and responsibility, and a.s.sociating with men whose minds, if may be, were uncultivated, but whose heads were well furnished and whose hearts were in the right place, yet visions of an important station on "the quarter-deck," at no distant period, were often conjured up by my imagination; and I resolved that many day should not pa.s.s before I would again brave the perils, share the strange excitement, and court the joys which accompany life on the sea.

Chapter x.x.xVIII. THE SEA, AND SAILORS

When we embark on the ocean, we are astonished at its immensity, bounded only by the horizon, with not a speck of land, a solitary rock, or landmark of any description, to guide the adventurers cast adrift on its broad surface, with "water, water, every where;" and when we see its face agitated by storms, and listen to the thunder of its billows, and reflect on its uncertain and mysterious character, and on the dangers with which it has been a.s.sociated in every age, we wonder at the courage and enterprise of those early navigators, strangers to science, who dared embark on the waste of waters in vessels of the frailest construction, to explore the expanse of ocean and make discovery of,

"New lands, Rivers and mountains on the spotted globe."

Even familiarity with the sea, which has become the great highway of nations, does not diminish its sublimity, its wild beauties, its grandeur, and the terrible power of its wrath.

The immensity of the sea, notwithstanding its surface has been traversed and measured by thousands of voyagers for centuries, fills the contemplative mind with awe, as a wonderful creation of Almighty Power.

One can hardly realize its vast extent from figures and calculations, without sailing over its surface and witnessing its immensity, as day after day pa.s.ses away, the cry being still "onward, onward!" and the view bounded on every side by the distant horizon.

On gazing down into its depths, when not a breath of wind sweeps over its surface, when its face is like a polished mirror, we find the water almost as transparent as the air we breathe, yet the keenest optics can penetrate but a few fathoms below the surface. The movements, the operations instinct with life, that are constantly taking place in that body of water, and the mighty changes which are going on in the vast tract of earth on which it reposes, are invisible to mortal eye.

Within a few years, the progress of scientific knowledge has enabled man to measure the depths of the ocean, which were formerly believed to be as unfathomable as boundless in extent. From soundings which have been taken, it is ascertained that the configuration of the earth at the bottom of the sea, is similar to that portion which rises above the surface, undulating, and interspersed with hills, and valleys, and plains, and mountain ranges, and abrupt precipices. The greatest depth of water at which soundings have been obtained, being between five and six miles, is deeper than the alt.i.tude of the highest mountain of which we have knowledge; and there may be cavities of far greater depth.

Geological researches prove that at an early period of the history of the earth its surface was vastly more irregular than at the present time. Not only the mountains on the earth were higher, but the deepest valleys of ocean were far deeper. Disintegrations caused by exposure to water or the atmosphere, and abrasions from causes with which we may not be familiar, have lowered the mountain tops, and created deposits which raise the plains and fill the deepest chasms. And here geologists find the origin of the earliest formation of stratified rocks.

Men have striven in vain to develop the secrets which lie hidden in the sea. Imagination has been at work for ages, and in some cases has pictured the bottom of ocean as a sort of marine paradise, a nautical Eden, with charming grottoes, s.p.a.cious gardens, coral forests, ridges of golden sands, and heaps of precious gems; and abounding in inhabitants with fairy forms, angelic features, and other attributes corresponding with the favored region in which they flourish, who sometimes rise to the surface of ocean, and seated on the craggy rocks, sing sweet ballads to charm away the life of the unwary mariner. Leyden, a Scottish poet, imagines one of these charming denizens of the deep to describe, in the following poetic language, the attractions of this submarine world:

"How sweet, when billows heave their head, And shake their arrowy crests on high, Serene, in Ocean's sapphire bed, Beneath the trembling surge to lie!

"To trace with tranquil step the deep, Where pearly drops of frozen dew, In concave sh.e.l.ls, unconscious sleep, Or shine with l.u.s.tre, silvery blue.

"Then shall the summer's sun from far Pour through the waves a softer ray, While diamonds, in a bower of spar, At eve shall shed a brighter day."

Others, however, with fancies equally vigorous, but less ornate or refined, give us different sketches of the doings in Neptune's dominions. They picture the bottom of ocean as un uninviting spot, replete with objects calculated to chill the blood and sadden the heart of man; inhabited by beings of a character rather repulsive than prepossessing, as salt-water satyrs, krakens, polypuses, and marine monsters of frightful aspects and hideous habits; glimpses of which are occasionally seen by favored inhabitants of these upper regions, sometimes in the shape of monstrous sea-serpents, with flowing manes and goggle eyes, lashing with their tails the astonished waters of Ma.s.sachusetts Bay.

In "Clarence's Dream: we find Shakespeare's idea of the sights exhibited far down beneath the ocean waves:

"Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon; Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl; Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels; All scattered in the bottom of the sea.

Some lay in dead men's skulls!"

Although man can fathom the depths of the sea, and may by scientific experiments, conducted with immense labor and expense, succeed in mapping out the great ocean basins, and obtaining an accurate idea of the configuration of that part of the earth which lies beneath the waters, yet the true character of the scenery, vegetation, and inhabitants of that region must remain unknown until some new philosophical and mechanical principles shall be discovered to pave the way to a system of submarine navigation, and the enterprise confided to some daring Yankee, with the promise of an exclusive patent right to its use for a century to come.

In the mean time we may rest a.s.sured that no valuable gems or lumps of gold have yet been brought up by the plummet. Indeed, so far as is shown by the soundings, the bottom of the ocean is covered with microscopic sh.e.l.ls, so wonderfully minute that thousands may be counted on the surface of a single square inch. We know also that the bed of ocean, for at least four hundred years, has served as a repository, a burial-place, not only for earth's choicest productions and myriads of human beings, gone to the bottom in sunken ships, but for disappointed hopes, false calculations, and sanguine schemes for the realization of fortune and honor.

The immensity, the majesty, and the wonders of the sea are manifest, and acknowledged by all. But what can surpa.s.s its beauty when in repose!

What scene can be more sublimely beautiful than the sea when gazed upon from the mast-head of a ship, gliding along as if impelled by the breath of a fairy! Every thing in the vicinity, as well as the vast expanse stretching out on every side, is calculated to inspire confidence, invite security, and give complete reliance on its gentle and pacific character. While enjoying the delightful scene, the pa.s.sions are hushed.

The sea seems the blest abode of tranquillity. We are alive only to its beauty, its grace, its magnitude, its power to interest and charm, to benefit mankind and beautify the world.

And how calmly beautiful is the close of day! What nameless charms cl.u.s.ter around a sunset at sea! The heavens and light clouds are not clad in purple and gold; but the western sky is attractive and lovely in the richness of its sober brilliancy. The sun, with undivided glory, goes down in the west, sinking gently and gradually beneath the well-defined horizon, like the spirit of a good man in the evening of life, departing for a better world.

Night drops her curtain only to change the scene and invest it with holier attributes. The moon sheds her light on the surface of the ocean.

No sounds break the stillness of the hour as the ship, urged by the favored breeze, quietly, yet perseveringly, pursues her course, save the murmuring ripple of the waves, the measured tread of the officer of the watch as he walks the deck, the low, half-stifled creaking of a block as if impatient of inactivity, the occasional flap of a sail awakened out of its sleep, and the stroke of the bell every half hour to mark the lapse of time, sending its musical, ringing notes far over the water.

What a time is this for study, for contemplation, for enjoyment! The poet Gilfillan, in describing a lovely night at sea, says, with true poetic warmth and energy,

"Night closed around the ship; no sound Save of the splashing sea Was heard. The waters all around Murmured so pleasantly, You would have thought the mermaids sung Down in their coral caves, So softly and so sweetly rang The music of the waves!"

Were such scenes always met with at sea, was its surface always smooth, the winds favorable and the sky unclouded, little resolution or physical endurance would be required to navigate the ocean; the energies which call THE SAILOR into life would no longer be necessary; the sea would be covered with pleasure yachts of the most fanciful description, manned by exquisites in snow-white gloves, propelled with silken sails, and decked with streamers, perhaps with flowers, while their broad decks would be thronged with a gay and happy bevy, of both s.e.xes and every age, bent on pleasure and eager to enjoy the beauties of the sea.