Heart of Oak: A Three-Stranded Yarn, vol. 1.Russell, William Clark
General
Heart of Oak: A Three-Stranded Yarn, vol. 1.
Russell, William Clark
English fiction -- 19th century; Sea stories
I shrieked on looking! Let my imaginations have been what they would,
here was the reality! I could not credit my sight. All three masts were
gone! nothing of the lower-masts remained saving a height of two or
three feet of jagged and splintered trunk-sheaves of barbed milk-white
wood on the main and quarter decks, and about ten to fifteen feet of
the foremast. On the right or starboard side, lengths of the bulwark
were crushed flat. The decks were littered with gear, ropes' ends were
swimming overboard in the leaden swell like huge eels and sea-snakes
making from the wreck. On one side, dangling between the irons, was the
keel of a quarter-boat--all that remained of her; the opposite davits
were empty.
But what idea can such talk as this give you of that wonderful dismal
picture of shipwreck, that spectacle of decks covered with snow, of
rails like an armoury with their bristling pendants of bayonet-blue
icicles? The galley was partly wrecked; the bowsprit stood soaring and
sinking upon the leaping waters, but the jibbooms were gone. I did
not know the hull. She looked shrunk to half her former size. The
sky stooped to the sea with its burden of vapour, but a break right
overhead hovered in a colour of sulphur. No wind stirred. Never was
there a deader stagnation in the atmosphere under the height of the
Line. Yet you were sensible of the presence of the spirit of this
wild, desolate part of the world even in such pauses as this, when you
watched the sullen motion of that troubled breast of deep, hurling
its glassy folds in comminglings which ran in silent warring to the
horizon. Far astern was a shape of white, a gleam in the sallow air
there, like that of a sail; but my eye was now experienced, and since
that dash of radiance was too big to be a ship, it must needs be ice. I
saw a collection of white tips on the starboard quarter when the swell
threw us high, and some points or shafts faint and bluish over the
bows. Otherwise the ocean line swept clear.
CHAPTER X
THE JURY-MAST
All the remaining hands of the ship's company were at work forward. A
number of spare booms were stowed on top of the galley and had probably
saved the long-boat from being crushed when the masts fell. The sailors
had rigged up a triangle of booms with blocks and tackle dangling, and
even as Mrs. Burke and I stood in the companion way, they broke into
song as they hoisted a huge spar that was to serve as a mast. Their
hearty chorus was frequently interrupted by sharp, eager shouts from
Captain Burke or the boatswain Wall.
The break overhead thinned out yet and made more light. A strange dim
dye of sulphur went sifting down to the horizon, and the sea in places
worked against it dark as bottle glass. About two miles off some whales
were blowing; their vast bulks showed in a black wet gleam amid the
swell; but even then such was the blending of their curved forms with
the confused running, that, but for their fountains, the eye had missed
them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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