Thrilling Stories Of The Ocean Part 2

Those on deck received the news with heart-felt grat.i.tude, and answered with three cheers. Signals of distress were instantly hoisted, and endeavors used to make towards the stranger, while the minute guns were fired continuously. She proved to be the brig Cambria, Captain Cook, master, bound to Vera Cruz, having twenty Cornish miners, and some agents of the Mining Company on board. For about one quarter of an hour, the crew of the Kent doubted whether the brig perceived their signals: but after a period of dreadful suspense, they saw the British colors hoisted, and the brig making towards them.

On this, the crew of the Kent got their boats in readiness; the first was filled with women, pa.s.sengers, and officers' wives, and was lowered into a sea so tempestuous as to leave small hope of their reaching the brig; they did, however, after being nearly swamped through some entanglement of the ropes, get clear of the Kent, and were safely taken on board the Cambria, which prudently lay at some distance off.

After the first trip, it was found impossible for the boats to come close alongside of the Kent, and the poor women and children suffered dreadfully, in being lowered over the stern into them by means of ropes.

Amid this gloomy scene, many beautiful examples occurred of filial and parental affection, and of disinterested friendship; and many sorrowful instances of individual loss and suffering. At length, when all had been removed from the burning vessel, but a few, who were so overcome by fear as to refuse to make the attempt to reach the brig, the captain quitted his ill-fated ship.

The flames which had spread along her upper deck, now mounted rapidly to the mast and rigging, forming one general conflagration and lighting up the heavens to an immense distance round. One by one her stately masts fell over her sides. By half-past one in the morning the fire reached the powder magazine; the looked-for explosion took place, and the burning fragments of the vessel were blown high into the air, like so many rockets.

The Cambria, with her crowd of sufferers, made all speed to the nearest port, and reached Portsmouth in safety, shortly after midnight, on the 3d of March, 1825, the accident having taken place on the 28th of February. Wonderful to tell, fourteen of the poor creatures, left on the Kent, were rescued by another ship, the Caroline, on her pa.s.sage from Alexandria to Liverpool.

THE PELICAN.

The life of a pelican seems to be a very lazy, if not a very pleasant one. Man, ever on the watch to turn the habits of animals to his own account, observing how good a fisherman the pelican is, often catches and tames him, and makes him fish for _him_. I have heard of a bird of this kind in America, which was so well trained, that it would at command go off in the morning, and return at night with its pouch full, and stretched to the utmost; part of its treasure it disgorged for its master, the rest was given to the bird for its trouble. It is hardly credible what these extraordinary pouches will hold; it is said, that among other things, a man's leg with the boots on was once found in one of them.

Pelicans live in flocks; they and the cormorants sometimes help one another to get a living. The cormorant is a species of pelican, of a dusky color: it is sometimes called the sea crow. The cormorants are the best divers, so the pelicans arrange themselves in a large circle at some great distance from the land, and flap their great wings on the surface of the water, while the cormorants dive beneath. Away swim the poor frightened fish towards the sh.o.r.e; the pelicans draw into a narrower circle, and the fish at last are brought into so small a compa.s.s, that their pursuers find no difficulty in obtaining a plentiful meal.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SEA TURTLE.]

CATCHING TURTLE.

There are two kinds of turtle; the one is called the green turtle, and is much valued as a delicious article of food; the other the hawk's bill turtle supplies the tortoise sh.e.l.l of commerce, which is prepared and moulded into various forms by heat. The flesh of the hawk's bill turtle is considered very unwholesome.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CATCHING TURTLE.]

The turtles in the picture are of the edible kind; they are found on the sh.o.r.es of nearly all the countries within the tropics.

There is a little rocky island in the south Atlantic Ocean, called the Island of Ascension, where they are found in vast numbers, and this barren spot is often visited by Indiamen for the purpose of obtaining some of them. The turtles feed on the sea weed and other marine plants which grow on the shoals and sand banks, and with their powerful jaws, they crush the small sea sh.e.l.ls which are found among the weeds. This kind of food is always to be had in great abundance, so that the turtles have no occasion to quarrel among themselves, for that which is afforded in such plenty for all; indeed they seem to be a very quiet and inoffensive race, herding peaceably together on their extensive feeding-grounds, and when satisfied retiring to the fresh water at the mouth of the rivers, where they remain holding their heads above water, as if to breathe the fresh air, till the shadow of any of their numerous enemies alarms them, when they instantly dive to the bottom for security.

In the month of April, the females leave the water after sunset, in order to deposit their eggs in the sand. By means of their fore-fins they dig a hole above high water mark, about one foot wide and two deep, into which they drop above a hundred eggs; they then cover them lightly over with a layer of sand, sufficient to hide them, and yet thin enough to admit the warmth of the sun's rays for hatching them. The instinct which leads the female turtle to the sh.o.r.e to lay her eggs, renders her a prey to man. The fishers wait for them on sh.o.r.e, especially on a moonlight night, and following them in one of their journeys, either coming or returning, they turn them quickly over on their backs, before they have time to defend themselves, or to blind their a.s.sailants by throwing up the sand with their fins.

When very large, for I should tell you that the usual weight of the turtle is from four to six hundred pounds, it requires the efforts of several men to turn them over, and for this purpose they often employ levers: the back sh.e.l.l of the turtle is so flat that when once over it is impossible for them to right themselves, so there the poor creatures lie in this helpless condition, till they are either taken away in the manner you see in the picture, or deposited by their captors in a crawl, which is a kind of enclosure surrounded by stakes, and so situated as to admit the influx of the sea.

The inhabitants of the Bahama Isles, catch many turtles at a considerable distance from the sh.o.r.e; they strike them with a spear, the head of which slips off when it has entered the body of the turtle, but it is fastened by a string to the pole, and by means of this apparatus they are able to secure them, and either take them into the boat or haul them on sh.o.r.e. The length of the green turtle frequently exceeds six feet. A boy ten years old, a son of Captain Roche, once made use of a very large sh.e.l.l as a boat, and ventured in it from the sh.o.r.e to his father's ship which lay about a quarter of a mile off. It was in the bay of Campeachy, off Port Royal, where the rightful occupant of this sh.e.l.l was caught.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WRECK OF THE STEAMBOAT.]

THE WRECK OF THE STEAMBOAT.

The following narrative teaches a lesson of courage and devotion such as are seldom read. In one of the light-houses of the desolate Farne Isles, amid the ocean, with no prospect before it but the wide expanse of sea, and now and then a distant sail appearing, her cradle hymn the ceaseless sound of the everlasting deep, there lived a little child whose name was Grace Darling. Her father was the keeper of the light-house; and here Grace lived and grew up to the age of twenty-two, her mother's constant helpmate in all domestic duties. She had a fair and healthy countenance, which wore a kind and cheerful smile, proceeding from a heart at peace with others, and happy in the consciousness of endeavoring to do its duty.

It was at early dawn, one September morning, in the year 1838, that the family at the Longstone light-house looked out through a dense fog which hung over the waters. All night the sea had run extremely high, with a heavy gale from the north, and at this moment the storm continued unabated. Mr. and Mrs. Darling and Grace were at this time the only persons in the light-house; through the dim mist they perceived the wreck of a large steam vessel on the rocks, and by the aid of their telescope the could even make out the forms of some persons clinging to her.

It was the Forfarshire steamboat on her pa.s.sage from Hull to Dundee.

She left the former place with sixty-three persons on board. She had entered Berwick Bay about eight o'clock the previous evening, in a heavy gale and in a leaky condition; the motion of the vessel soon increased the leak to such a degree that the fires could not be kept burning.

About ten o'clock she bore up off St. Abb's Head, the storm still raging. Soon after the engineer reported that the engines would not work; the vessel became unmanageable; it was raining heavily, and the fog was so dense that it was impossible to make out their situation. At length the appearance of breakers close to leeward, and the Farne lights just becoming visible, showed to all on board their imminent danger.

The captain vainly tried to run the vessel between the islands and the main land, she would no longer answer the helm, and was driven to and fro by a furious sea. Between three and four o'clock in the morning she struck with her bows foremost on a jagged rock, which pierced her timbers. Soon after the first shock a mighty wave lifted the vessel from the rock, and let her fall again with such violence as fairly to break her in two pieces; the after part, containing the cabin with many pa.s.sengers, all of whom perished, was instantly carried away through a tremendous current, while the fore part was fixed on the rock. The survivors, only nine in number, five of the crew and four pa.s.sengers, remained in this dreadful situation till daybreak, when they were descried by the family at the light-house. But who could dare to cross the raging abyss which lay between them?

Grace, full of pity and anxiety for the wretched people on the wreck, forgot all toil and danger, and urged her father to launch the boat; she took one oar and her father the other; but Grace had never a.s.sisted in the boat before, and it was only by extreme exertion and the most determined courage that they succeeded in bringing the boat up to the rock, and rescuing nine of their fellow creatures from a watery grave, and with the help of the crew in returning, landed all safe at the light-house.

Happy Grace Darling! she needed no other reward than the joy of her own heart and the warm thanks of those she had helped to deliver; but the news of the heroic deed soon spread, and wondering and admiring strangers came from far and near to see Grace and that lonely light-house. Nay more, they showered gifts upon her, and a public subscription was raised with a view of rewarding her bravery, to the amount of seven hundred pounds. She continued to live with her parents on their barren isles, finding happiness in her simple duties and in administering to their comfort, until her death, which took place little more than three years after the wreck of the Forfarshire steamer.

WATERSPOUTS.

These wonderful appearances are caused by the action of currents of wind meeting in the atmosphere from different quarters. They are sometimes seen on land, but much more frequently at sea, where they are very dangerous visitors. I will try to give you some idea of what they are, and perhaps the picture may help you a little. I dare say you have often noticed little eddies of wind whirling up dust and leaves, or any light substances which happened to be in the way; when these occur on a larger scale they are called whirlwinds.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WATERSPOUTS.]

Now if a cloud happens to be exactly in the point where two such furious currents of wind meet, it is turned round and round by them with great speed and is condensed into the form of a cone; this whirling motion drives from the centre of the cloud all the particles contained in it, producing what is called a vacuum, or empty s.p.a.ce, into which the water or any thing else lying beneath it has an irresistible tendency to rush.

Underneath the dense impending cloud, the sea becomes violently agitated, and the waves dart rapidly towards the centre of the troubled ma.s.s of water: on reaching it they disperse in vapor, and rise, whirling in a spiral direction towards the cloud. The descending and ascending columns unite, the whole presenting the appearance of a hollow cylinder, or tube of gla.s.s, empty within. This, Maltebrun tells us, and he further adds, "it glides over the sea without any wind being felt; indeed several have been seen at once, pursuing different directions. When the cloud and the marine base of the waterspout move with equal velocity, the lower cone is often seen to incline sideways, or even to bend, and finally to burst in pieces. A noise is then heard like the noise of a cataract falling in a deep valley. Lightning frequently issues from the very bosom of the waterspout, particularly when it breaks; but no thunder is ever heard."

Sailors, to prevent the danger which would arise from coming in contact with one of these tremendous columns, discharge a cannon into it: the ball pa.s.sing through it breaks the watery cylinder, and causes it to burst, just as a touch causes your beautiful soap-bubbles to vanish, and turn to water again. These waterspouts, at sea, generally occur between the tropics, and I believe frequently after a calm, such as the poet has described in the following lines:

"Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 'Twas sad as sad could be, And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea!

"All in a hot and copper sky, The b.l.o.o.d.y sun at noon, Right up above the mast did stand.

No bigger than the moon.

"Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath, nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.

"Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, every where And not a drop to drink!"

Happily "dead calms" do not generally last so long as to lead to any serious result. Sailors have a superst.i.tious and foolish belief that whistling in a calm will bring up a breeze, and they do this in a drawling, beseeching tone, on some prominent part of the vessel. Poor fellows! what a pity that their thoughts should not more frequently be directed to Him "who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out heaven with a span," and whose works and wonders in the deep "they that go down to the sea in ships" have such abundant opportunity for observing.

HEAVING THE LEAD.

Here we have a sailor in the act of heaving the lead, or taking soundings, which is a thing extremely necessary to be done when a ship is approaching the sh.o.r.e, as there is great danger of her running on a sand-bank or striking on a sunken rock. I will now tell you how it is managed. A sailor gets over the ship's side, as you see in the engraving, and takes his station in what are called "the chains;" he holds in his hand a coil of rope, with the length in fathoms marked upon it; this rope has a ma.s.s of lead attached to the end of it. At the bottom of the lead, is a hollow place, into which a piece of tallow candle is stuck, which brings up distinguishing marks from the bottom of the sea, such as small sh.e.l.ls, sand, or mud, adhering to it. If the tallow be only indented it is supposed to have fallen on bare rocks. A correct account of the soundings is entered in the logbook; this book contains a description of the ship's course, the direction of the wind, and other circ.u.mstances, during every hour of each day and night. Having arranged the rope so as to allow it to fall freely when cast, the sailor throws the lead forward into the water, giving rope sufficient to allow it to touch the bottom; then with a sudden jerk, such as long practice alone can enable him to give, he raises the weight, and after examining the mark on the rope made by the water, calls out l.u.s.tily, so that all forward can hear, "By the mark seven," or "By the deep nine," according to the case, or whatever the number of fathoms may be. The lead-line is marked into lengths of six feet, called fathoms, by knots, or pieces of leather, or old sail-cloth. In narrow or intricate channels, it is sometimes needful to place a man in the chains on each side of the ship, as the depth will vary a fathom or more even in the breadth of the vessel, and it is of great consequence that the leadsmen give the depth correctly, as a wrong report might cause the ship to run aground. The time that the leadsman is employed in taking soundings is often a period of deep anxiety to the crew and pa.s.sengers, especially if the vessel be near an unknown coast. When the decrease in the number of fathoms is sudden, the captain knows that danger is near, and quickly gives orders to alter the ship's course: the sailors instantly obey his directions; but sometimes not all their activity and energy can save the vessel; she strikes and becomes a wreck.

Turn to the 27th chapter of the Acts of the Apostles in your Bible, and you will there read the deeply interesting account of Paul's shipwreck on the island Melita. Life has often been compared to a voyage--and aptly so.