Afloat And Ashore

J >> James Fenimore Cooper >> Afloat And Ashore

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For my part, I had quite as much reason to rejoice at the chance which
threw me in the way of the Mertons, as they had. If I was instrumental
in saving their lives, as was undeniably the case, they taught me more
of the world, in the ordinary social sense of the phrase, than I had
learned in all my previous life. I make no pretensions to having seen
London society; that lay far beyond the reach of Major Merton himself,
who was born the son of a merchant, when merchants occupied a much
lower position in the English social scale than they do to-day, and
had to look to a patron for most of his own advancement. But, he was a
gentleman; maintained the notions, sentiments, and habits of the
caste; and was properly conscious of my having saved his life when it
was in great jeopardy. As for Emily Merton, she got to converse with
me with the freedom of a friend; and very pleasant it was to hear
pretty thoughts expressed in pretty language, and from pretty lips. I
could perceive that she thought me a little rustic and provincial; but
I had not been all the way to Canton to be brow-beaten by a cockney
girl, however clever and handsome. On the whole--and I say it without
vanity, at this late day--I think the impression left behind me, among
these good people, was favourable. Perhaps Clawbonny was not without
its influence; but, when I paid my last visit, even Emily looked
sorrowful, and her mother was pleased to say they should all miss me
much. The Major made me promise to hunt him up, should I ever be in
Jamaica, or Bombay; for one of which places he expected to sail
himself, with his wife and daughter, in the course of a few months. I
knew he had had one appointment, thought he might receive another, and
hoped everything would turn out for the best.

The Crisis sailed on her day; and she went to sea from the Downs, a
week later, with a smacking southerly wind. Our Philadelphians turned
out a noble set of fellows; and we had the happiness of beating an
English sloop-of-war, just as we got clear of the channel, in a fair
trial of speed. To lessen our pride a little, a two-decker that was
going to the Mediterranean, treated us exactly in the same manner,
only three days later. What made this last affair more mortifying, was
the fact that Marble had just satisfied himself, and all hands, that,
a sloop-of-war being the fastest description of vessel, and we having
got the better of one of them, it might be fairly inferred we could
outsail the whole British navy. I endeavoured to console him, by
reminding him that "the race was not always to the swift." He growled
out some sort of an answer, denouncing all sayings, and desiring to
know out of what book I had picked up that nonsense.

I have no intention of dwelling on every little incident that occurred
on the long road we were now travelling. We touched at Madeira, and
landed an English family that went there for the benefit of an
invalid; got some fruit, fresh meat and vegetables, and sailed
again. Our next stopping-place was Rio, whither we went for letters
from home, the captain being taught to expect them. The ship's letters
were received, and they were filled with eulogiums on our good
conduct, having been written after the arrival of _la Dame de
Nantes;_ but great was my disappointment on finding there was not
even a scrawl for myself.

Our stay at Rio was short, and we left port with a favourable slant of
wind, running as far north as 50 degrees, in a very short time. As we drew
near to the southern extremity of the American continent, however, we
met with heavy weather and foul winds. We were now in the month that
corresponds to November in the northern hemisphere, and had to double
The Horn at that unpropitious season of the year, going
westward. There is no part of the world of which navigators have given
accounts so conflicting, as of this celebrated passage. Each man
appears to have described it as he found it, himself, while no two
seem to have found it exactly alike. I do not remember to have ever
heard of calms off Cape Horn; but light winds are by no means
uncommon, though tempests are undoubtedly the predominant
characteristic. Our captain had already been round four times, and he
held the opinion that the season made no difference, and that it was
better to keep near the land. We shaped our course accordingly for
Staten Land, intending to pass through the Straits of Le Maire and hug
the Horn, as close as possible, in doubling it. We made the Falkland
Islands, or West Falkland rather, just as the sun rose, one morning,
bearing a little on our weather-quarter, with the wind blowing heavily
at the eastward. The weather was thick, and, what was still worse,
there was so little day, and no moon, that it was getting to be
ticklish work to be standing for a passage as narrow as that we aimed
at. Marble and I talked the matter over, between ourselves, and wished
the captain could be persuaded to haul up, and try to go to the
eastward of the island, as was still possible, with the wind where it
was. Still, neither of us dared propose it; I, on account of my youth,
and the chief-mate, as he said, on account of "the old fellow's
obstinacy." "He likes to be poking about in such places," Marble
added, "and is never so happy as when he is running round the ocean in
places where it is full of unknown islands, looking for sandal wood,
and beche-la-mar! I'll warrant you, he'll give us a famous time of it,
if he ever get us up on the North-West Coast." Here the consultation
terminated, we mates believing it wiser to let things take their
course.

I confess to having seen the mountains on our weather-quarter
disappear, with melancholy forebodings. There was little hope of
getting any observation that day; and to render matters worse, about
noon, the wind began to haul more to the southward. As it hauled, it
increased in violence, until, at midnight, it blew a gale; the
commencement of such a tempest as I had never witnessed in any of my
previous passages at sea. As a matter of course, sail was reduced as
fast as it became necessary, until we had brought the ship down to a
close-reefed main-top-sail, the fore-top-mast staysail, the
fore-course, and the mizen-staysail. This was old fashioned Canvass;
the more recent spencer being then unknown.

Our situation was now far from pleasant. The tides and currents, in
that high latitude, run with great velocity; and, then, at a moment
when it was of the greatest importance to know precisely where the
ship was, we were left to the painful uncertainty of conjecture, and
theories that might be very wide of the truth. The captain had nerve
enough, notwithstanding, to keep on the larboard tack until daylight,
in the hope of getting in sight of the mountains of Terra del
Fuego. No one, now, expected we should be able to fetch through the
Straits; but it would be a great relief to obtain a sight of the land,
as it would enable us to get some tolerably accurate notions of our
position. Daylight came at length, but it brought no certainty. The
weather was so thick, between a drizzling rain, sea-mist and the
spray, that it was seldom we could see a league around us, and
frequently not half a mile. Fortunately, the general direction of the
eastern coast of Terra del Fuego, is from north-west to south-east,
always giving us room to ware off shore, provided we did not
unexpectedly get embarrassed in some one of the many deep indentations
of that wild and inhospitable shore.

Captain Williams showed great steadiness in the trying circumstances
in which we were placed. The ship was just far enough south to render
it probable she could weather Falkland Islands, on the other tack,
could we rely upon the currents; but it would be ticklish work to
undertake such a thing, in the long, intensely dark nights we had, and
thus run the risk of finding ourselves on a lee shore. He determined,
therefore, to hold on as long as possible, on the tack we were on,
expecting to get through another night, without coming upon the land,
every hour now giving us the hope that we were drawing near to the
termination of the gale. I presume he felt more emboldened to pursue
this course by the circumstance that the wind evidently inclined to
haul little by little, more to the southward, which was not only
increasing our chances of laying past the islands, but lessened the
danger from Terra del Fuego.

Marble was exceedingly uneasy during that second night. He remained
on deck with me the whole of the morning watch; not that he distrusted
my discretion in the least, but because he distrusted the wind and the
land. I never saw him in so much concern before, for it was his habit
to consider himself a timber of the ship, that was to sink or swim
with the craft.

"Miles," said he, "you and I know something of these 'bloody
currents,' and we know they take a ship one way, while she looks as
fiercely the other as a pig that is dragged aft by the tail. If we had
run down the 50th degree of longitude, now, we might have had plenty
of sea-room, and been laying past the Cape, with this very wind; but,
no, the old fellow would have had no islands in that case, and he
never could be happy without half-a-dozen islands to bother him."

"Had we run down the 50th degree of longitude," I answered, "we should
have had twenty degrees to make to get round the Horn; whereas, could
we only lay through the Straits of Le Maire, six or eight of those
very same degrees would carry us clear of everything."

"Only lay through the Straits of Le Maire, on the 10th November, or
what is the same thing in this quarter of the world, of May, and with
less than nine hours of day-light! And such day-light, too! Why, our
Newfoundland fogs, such stuff as I used to eat when a youngster and a
fisherman, are high noon to it! Soundings are out of the question
hereabouts; and, before one has hauled in the deep-sea, with all its
line out, his cut-water may be on a rock. This ship is so weatherly
and drags ahead so fast, that we shall see _terra firma_ before
any one has a notion of it. The old man fancies, because the coast of
Fuego trends to the north-west, that the land will fall away from us,
as fast as we draw towards it. I hope he may live long enough to
persuade all hands that he is right!"

Marble and I were conversing on the forecastle at the time, our eyes
turned to the westward, for it was scarcely possible for him to look
in any other direction, when he interrupted himself, by shouting
out--"hard up with the helm--spring to the after-braces, my lads--man
mizen-staysail downhaul!" This set everybody in motion, and the
captain and third-mate were on deck in a minute. The ship fell off, as
soon as we got the mizen-staysail in, and the main-topsail
touching. Gathering way fast, as she got the wind more aft, her helm
threw her stern up, and away she went like a top. The fore-topmast
staysail-sheet was tended with care, and yet the cloth emitted a sound
like the report of a swivel, when the sail first filled on the other
tack. We got the starboard fore-tack forward, and the larboard sheet
aft, by two tremendously severe drags, the blocks and bolts seeming
fairly to quiver, as they felt the strains. Everything succeeded,
however, and the Crisis began to drag off from the coast of Terra del
Fuego, of a certainty; but to go whither, no one could precisely
tell. She headed up nearly east, the wind playing about between
south-and-by-east, and south-east-and-by-south. On that course, I own
I had now great doubt whether she could lay past the Falkland Islands,
though I felt persuaded we must be a long distance from them. There
was plenty of time before us to take the chances of a change.

As soon as the ship was round, and trimmed by the wind on the other
tack, Captain Williams had a grave conversation with the chief-mate,
on the subject of his reason for what he had done. Marble maintained
he had caught a glimpse of the land ahead--"Just as you know I did of
la Dame de Nantes, Captain Williams," he continued, "and seeing there
was no time to be lost, I ordered the helm hard up, to ware off
shore." I distrusted this account, even while it was in the very
process of coming out of the chief mate's mouth, and Marble afterwards
admitted to me, quite justly; but the captain either was satisfied, or
thought it prudent to seem so. By the best calculations I afterwards
made, I suppose we must have been from fifteen to twenty leagues from
the land when we wore ship; but, as Marble said, when he made his
private confessions, "Madagascar was quite enough for me, Miles,
without breaking our nose on this sea-gull coast; and there may be
'bloody currents' on this side of the Cape of Good Hope, as well as on
the other. We've got just so much of a gale and a foul wind to
weather, and the ship will do both quite as well with her head to the
eastward, as with her head to the westward."

All that day the Crisis stood on the starboard tack, dragging through
the raging waters as it might be by violence; and just as night shut
in again, she wore round, once more, with her head to the westward. So
far from abating, the wind increased, and towards evening we found it
necessary to furl our topsail and fore-course. Mere rag of a sail as
the former had been reduced to, with its four reefs in, it was a
delicate job to roll it up. Neb and I stood together in the bunt, and
never did I exert myself more than on that occasion. The foresail,
too, was a serious matter, but we got both sails in without losing
either. Just as the sun set, or as night came to increase the darkness
of that gloomy day, the fore-topmast-staysail went out of the
bolt-rope, with a report that was heard all over the ship;
disappearing in the mist, like a cloud driving in the heavens. A few
minutes later, the mizen-staysail was hauled down in order to prevent
it from travelling the same road. The jerks even this low canvass
occasionally gave the ship, made her tremble from her keel to her
trucks.

For the first time, I now witnessed a tempest at sea. Gales, and
pretty hard ones, I had often seen; but the force of the wind on this
occasion, as much exceeded that in ordinary gales of wind, as the
force of these had exceeded that of a whole-sail breeze. The seas
seemed crushed, the pressure of the swooping atmosphere, as the
currents of the air went howling over the surface of the ocean, fairly
preventing them from rising; or, where a mound of water did appear, it
was scooped up and borne off in spray, as the axe dubs inequalities
from the log. In less than an hour after it began to blow the hardest,
there was no very apparent swell--the deep breathing of the ocean is
never entirely stilled--and the ship was as steady as if hove half
out, her lower yard-arms nearly touching the water, an inclination at
which they remained as steadily as if kept there by purchases. A few
of us were compelled to go as high as the futtock-shrouds to secure
the sails, but higher it was impossible to get. I observed that when I
thrust out a hand to clutch anything, it was necessary to make the
movement in such a direction as to allow for lee-way, precisely as a
boat quarters the stream in crossing against a current. In ascending
it was difficult to keep the feet on the ratlins, and in descending,
it required a strong effort to force the body down towards the centre
of gravity. I make no doubt, had I groped my way up to the
cross-trees, and leaped overboard my body would have struck the water,
thirty or forty yards from the ship. A marlin-spike falling from
either top, would have endangered no one on deck.

When the day returned, a species of lurid, sombre light was diffused
over the watery waste, though nothing was visible but the ocean and
the ship. Even the sea-birds seemed to have taken refuge in the
caverns of the adjacent coast, none re-appearing with the dawn. The
air was full of spray, and it was with difficulty that the eye could
penetrate as far into the humid atmosphere as half a mile. All hands
mustered on deck, as a matter of course, no one wishing to sleep at a
time like that. As for us officers, we collected on the forecastle,
the spot where danger would first make itself apparent, did it come
from the side of the land. It is not easy to make a landsman
understand the embarrassments of our situation. We had had no
observations for several days, and had been moving about by dead
reckoning, in a part of the ocean where the tides run like a
mill-tail, with the wind blowing a little hurricane. Even now, when
her bows were half submerged, and without a stitch of canvass exposed,
the Crisis drove ahead at the rate of three or four knots, luffing as
close to the wind as if she carried after-sail. It was Marble's
opinion that, in such smooth water, do all we could, the vessel would
drive towards the much-dreaded land again, between sun and sun of that
short day, a distance of from thirty to forty miles. "Nor is this all,
Miles," he added to me, in an aside, "I no more like this 'bloody
current,' than that we had over on the other side of the pond, when we
broke our back on the rocks of Madagascar. You never see as smooth
water as this, unless when the wind and current are travelling in the
same direction." I made no reply, but there all four of us, the
captain and his three mates, stood looking anxiously into the vacant
mist on our lee-bow, as if we expected every moment to behold our
homes. A silence of ten minutes succeeded, and I was still gazing in
the same direction, when by a sort of mystic rising of the curtain, I
fancied I saw a beach of long extent, with a dark-looking waste of low
bottom extending inland, for a considerable distance. The beach did
not appear to be distant half a knot, while the ship seemed to glide
along it, as compared with visible objects on shore, at a rate of six
or eight miles the hour. It extended, almost in a parallel line with
our course, too, as far as could be seen, both astern and ahead.

"What a strange delusion is this!" I thought to myself, and turned to
look at my companions, when I found all looking, one at the other, as
if to ask a common explanation.

"There is no mistake here," said captain Williams, quietly. "That is
_land_, gentlemen."

"As true as the gospel," answered Marble, with the sort of steadiness
despair sometimes gives. "What is to be done, sir?"

"What _can_ be done, Mr. Marble?--We have not room to ware, and,
of the two, there seems, so far as I can judge more sea-room ahead
than astern."

This was so apparent, there was no disputing it. We could still see
the land, looking low, chill, and of the hue of November; and we could
also perceive that ahead, if anything, it fell off a little towards
the northward, while astern it seemingly stretched in a due line with
our course. That we passed it with great velocity, too, was a
circumstance that our eyes showed us too plainly to admit of any
mistake. As the ship was still without a rag of sail, borne down by
the wind as she had been for hours, and burying to her hawse-holes
forward, it was only to a racing tide, or current of some sort, that
we could be indebted for our speed. We tried the lead, and got bottom
in six fathoms!

The captain and Marble now held a serious consultation; That the ship
was entering some sort of an estuary was certain, but of what depth,
how far favoured by a holding ground, or how far without any anchorage
at all, were facts that defied our inquiries. We knew that the land
called Terra del Fuego was, in truth, a cluster of islands,
intersected by various channels and passages, into which ships had
occasionally ventured, though their navigation had never led to any
other results than some immaterial discoveries in geography. That we
were entering one of these passages, and under favourable
circumstances, though so purely accidental, was the common belief; and
it only remained to look out for the best anchorage, while we had
day-light. Fortunately, as we drove into the bay, or passage, or what
ever it was, the tempest lifted less spray from the water, and, owing
to this and other causes, the atmosphere gradually grew clearer. By
ten o'clock, we could see fully a league, though I can hardly say that
the wind blew less fiercely than before. As for sea, there was none,
or next to none; the water being as smooth as in a river.

The day drew on, and we began to feel increased uneasiness at the
novelty of our situation. Our hope and expectation were to find some
anchorage; but to obtain this it was indispensable also to find a
lee. As the ship moved forward, we still kept the land in view, on our
starboard hand, but that was a lee, instead of a weather shore; the
last alone could give our ground-tackle any chance, whatever, in such
a tempest. We were drawing gradually away from this shore, too, which
trended more northerly, giving us additional sea-room. The fact that
we were in a powerful tide's way, puzzled us the most. There was but
one mode of accounting for the circumstance. Had we entered a bay, the
current must have been less, and it seemed necessary there should be
some outlet to such a swift accumulation of water. It was not the mere
rising of the water, swelling in an estuary, but an arrow-like
glancing of the element, as it shot through a pass. We had a proof of
this last fact, about eleven o'clock, that admitted of no dispute.
Land was seen directly ahead, at that hour, and great was the panic it
created. A second look, however, reassured us, the land proving to be
merely a rocky islet of some six or eight acres in extent. We gave it
a berth, of course, though we examined closely for an anchorage near
it, as we approached. The islet was too low and too small to make any
lee, nor did we like the looks of the holding-ground. The notion of
anchoring there was consequently abandoned; but we had now some means
of noting our progress. The ship was kept a little away, in order to
give this island a berth, and the gale drove her through the water at
the rate of seven or eight knots. This, however, was far from being
our whole speed, the tide sweeping us onward at a furious rate, in
addition. Even Captain Williams thought we must be passing that rock
at the rate of fifteen knots!

It was noon, and there was no abatement in the tempest, no change in
the current, no means of returning, no chance of stopping; away we
were driven, like events ruled by fate. The only change was the
gradual clearing up of the atmosphere, as we receded from the ocean,
and got farther removed from its mists and spray. Perhaps the power of
the gale had, in a small degree, abated, by two o'clock, and it would
have been possible to carry some short sail; but there being no sea to
injure us, it was unnecessary, and the ship continued to drive ahead,
under bare poles. Night was the time to dread.

There was, now, but one opinion among us, and that was this:--we
thought the ship had entered one of the passages that intersect Terra
del Fuego, and that there was the chance of soon finding a lee, as
these channels were known to be very irregular and winding. To run in
the night seemed impossible; nor was it desirable, as it was almost
certain we should be compelled to return by the way we had entered, to
extricate ourselves from the dangers of so intricate a navigation.
Islands began to appear, moreover, and we had indications that the
main passage itself, was beginning to diminish in width. Under the
circumstances, therefore, it was resolved to get everything ready, and
to let go two anchors, as soon as we could find a suitable spot.
Between the hours of two and four, the ship passed seventeen islets,
some of them quite near; but they afforded no shelter. At last, and it
was time, the sun beginning to fall very low, as we could see by the
waning light, we saw an island of some height and size ahead, and we
hoped it might afford us a lee. The tide had changed too, and that was
in our favour. Turning to windward, however, was out of the question,
since we could carry no sail, and the night was near. Anchor, then, we
must, or continue to drive onward in the darkness, sheered about in
all directions by a powerful adverse current. It is true, this current
would have been a means of safety, by enabling us to haul up from
rocks and dangers ahead, could we carry any canvass; but it still blew
too violently for the last. To anchor, then, it was determined.

I had never seen so much anxiety in Captain Williams's countenance, as
when he was approaching the island mentioned. There was still light
enough to observe its outlines and shores, the last appearing bold and
promising. As the island itself may have been a mile in circuit, it
made a tolerable lee, when close to it. This was then our object, and
the helm was put to starboard as we went slowly past, the tide
checking our speed. The ship sheered into a sort of roadstead--a very
wild one it was--as soon as she had room. It was ticklish work, for no
one could tell how soon we might hit a rock; but we went clear,
luffing quite near to the land, where we let go both bowers at the
same instant. The ship's way had been sufficiently deadened, by
throwing her up as near the wind as she could be got, and there was no
difficulty in snubbing her. The lead gave us seven fathoms, and this
within pistol-shot of the shore. We knew we were temporarily safe. The
great point was to ascertain how the vessel would tend, and with how
much strain upon her cables. To everybody's delight, it was found we
were in a moderate eddy, that drew the ship's stern from the island,
and allowed her to tend to the wind, which still had a fair range from
her top-sail yards to the trucks. Lower down, the tempest scuffled
about, howling and eddying, and whirling first to one side, and then
to the other, in a way to prove how much its headlong impetuosity was
broken and checked by the land. It is not easy to describe the relief
we felt at these happy chances. It was like giving foothold to some
wretch who thought a descent of the precipice was inevitable.