Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII. No. 3. March 1848Various
General
Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII. No. 3. March 1848
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
I shall never forget the evening and night after the 15th of May. We
were then in the neighborhood of Turks Island, heading for the Caycos
Pass, and keeping a bright look-out for land. It was a most lovely
night, one, as Willis says, astray from Paradise; the moon was shining
down as it only does shine between the tropics, the sky clear and
cloudless, the mild breeze, just enough to fill our sails, pushing us
gently through the water, the sea as glassy as a mountain-lake, and
motionless, save the long, slight swell, scarcely perceptible to those
who for long weeks have been tossed by the tempestuous waves of the
stormy Atlantic. The sails of a distant ship were seen, far away to
the north, making the lovely scene less solitary; the only sounds
heard were the rippling at the bows, the low sough of the zephyr
through the rigging, the cheeping of blocks, as the sleepy helmsman
allowed the ship to vary in her course, the occasional splash of a
dolphin, and the flutter of a flying-fish in the air, as he winged his
short and glittering flight. The air was warm, fragrant, and
delicious, and the larboard watch of the tired crew of the Gentile,
after a boisterous passage of forty days from Gibralter, yielded to
its somnolent influence, and lay stretched about the forecastle and
waists, enjoying the voluptuous languor which overcomes men suddenly
emerging from a cold into a tropical climate.
Mr. Langley, myself, and the skipper's dog, reclined upon the
booby-hatch. The first having the responsibility of the deck contrived
to maintain a half upright position, and to keep one eye open, but the
other two, prostrate by each others' side, slumbered outright.
"What's the time, Bill?" I asked, at length, rousing myself, and
shaking off the embrace of Rover, who was loth to lose his bedfellow.
"'We take no note of time,'" spouted the third mate, drawing his watch
from his pocket. "For'ard, there! strike four bells, and relieve the
wheel. Keep your eye peeled, look-out; and mind, no caulking."
"Ay ay, sir," was the lazy response, and in a moment more the
_ting-ting_, _ting-ting_, of the ship's bell rang out on the silent
air, and proclaimed that the middle watch was half over, or, in
landsmen's lingo, that it was two o'clock, A. M.
"Lay along, Rover," I muttered, preparing for another snooze.
"Oh! avast that Frank; come, keep awake, and let's talk."
"Talk!" said I, "about what, pray?"
"Oh! I don't know," replied Bill. "I tell you what, Frank, if it
wasn't for being cock of the roost myself, I should wish that Stewart
headed this watch now. What fine times we used to have, eh?--but he
has altered as well as the times--how odd he has acted by spells ever
since we got that packet at Malta. I'm d--d if I don't believe he got
news of the loss of his sweetheart."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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