Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 66, No. 410, December 1849Various
History
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 66, No. 410, December 1849
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
At this, of course, I stood aside at once; and he shouted again, "Hoist
the jib and fore-topmast-staysail--stand by to set fore-course!" By
Jove! this was the way to pay the ship _head_ off, instead of stern
off, from the blast when it came--and to let her drive before it at no
trifle of a rate, wherever _that_ might take her! "_Down_ with that
spanker, Mr Macleod, d'ye hear!" roared Captain Williamson again; and
certainly I did wonder what he meant to do with the ship. But his
manner was so decided, and 'twas so natural for the captain to strain
a point to come on deck in the circumstances, that I saw he must have
some trick of seamanship above _me_, or some special knowledge of
the coast,--and I waited in a state of the greatest excitement for
the first stroke of the tornado. He waved the second and third mates
forward to their posts--the Indiaman sheering and backing, like a
frightened horse, to the long slight swell and the faint flaw of the
land air. The black arch to windward began to rise again, showing a
terrible white stare reaching deep in, and a blue dart of lightning
actually ran zig-zag down before our glaring fore-to'gallant-mast.
Suddenly the captain had looked at me, and we faced each other by the
gleam; and quiet, easy-going man as he was commonly, it just flashed
across me there was something extraordinarily wild and _raised_ in his
pale visage, strange as the air about us made every one appear. He
gave a stride towards me, shouting "Who are--" when the thunder-clap
took the words out of his tongue, and next moment the tornado burst
upon us, fierce as the wind from a cannon's month. For one minute the
Seringapatam heeled over to her starboard streak, almost broadside on,
and her spars toward the land,--all on her beam was a long ragged white
gush of light and mist pouring out under the black brow of the clouds,
with a trampling eddying roar up into the sky. The swell plunged over
her weather-side like the first break of a dam, and as we scrambled
up to the bulwarks, to hold on for bare life, you saw a roller, fit
to swamp us, coming on out of the sheet of foam--when crash went
mizen-topmast and main-to'gallant-mast: the ship payed swiftly off by
help of her head-sails, and, with a leap like a harpooned whale, off
she drove fair before the tremendous sweep of the blast.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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