Crown and Anchor: Under the Pen'antHutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
General
Crown and Anchor: Under the Pen'ant
Hutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
So, fearing that we might get pooped, we now furled the foretopsail and
lay-to under our close-reefed maintopsail and storm staysails; thus
awaiting what might further be in store for us, although it did not then
seem possible that anything could be worse!
We were all soon undeceived, however, on this point; although we had
about half-an-hour's let off, during which interval the commander and
gunnery lieutenant employed themselves in having the guns secured with
double breechings and stout seven-inch hawsers triced up along the decks
in their rear, a separate tackle being bent on into this and passing
under the neck ring of each of the long thirty-two pounders, in order to
prevent their taking charge and waltzing about amidships when the vessel
rolled.
Ay, and she did roll, too!
The decks also were battened down to keep out the floods of water, which
she was continually taking in over the bows, from passing too freely
below, where a considerable quantity had already, indeed, gone, making
us rather damp down in the steerage.
Lifelines were likewise rove on the poop and upper deck, where it was
now impossible to move a step without having something to lay hold of.
This was not only on account of the heavy lurches the vessel gave from
port to starboard and then back again to port; but, the planks were wet
and slippery, and besides, as she plunged and pitched, head to sea,
great green, rolling waves would break on the forecastle and pour down
into the waist, rushing aft like a river and sweeping anyone off his
legs who was caught unprepared.
The wind itself was blowing so strongly that I couldn't stand upright,
having to shelter myself under the lee of the bulwarks when I was on the
poop.
But, this was nothing to what came later, old Boreas then putting a
fresh hand to his bellows.
Hardly had the guns been properly secured and everything made snug and
fast below and aloft, when the gale recommenced with tenfold violence;
constant squalls bursting over the ship, accompanied by showers of hail
that pattered on the planks like rifle bullets and took the skin off any
fellow's face that was exposed to it without protection.
It made mine smart, I know!
In the midst of one of these sharp squalls, the maintopsail was blown to
pieces with a report that sounded as if a gun had been fired off close
to my ear; and, at the same moment, there was a loud crack heard from
the top as if something had given way in addition to the sail.
Nothing, though, could be done about this for the moment, more pressing
business being on hand; for, in consequence of the topsail giving, the
ship's head payed off and getting into the hollow of the sea she
precious nearly rolled her masts out her in less time than one could
count.
"Down with that fore staysail," shouted the commander through his
speaking trumpet. "Look alive man and set the topsail at once!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account