Jack in the Forecastle; or, Incidents in the Early Life of Hawser MartingaleSleeper, John Sherburne
General
Jack in the Forecastle; or, Incidents in the Early Life of Hawser Martingale
Sleeper, John Sherburne
Seafaring life
The vessels were thickly moored, and cables already began to part and
anchors to drag. Sloops, schooners, brigs, and ships got foul of each
other. The "hardest fend off!" was the cry, and cracking work commenced;
and what with the howling of the hurricane gusts as they swept down the
mountain side, the angry roar of the short waves, so suddenly conjured
up, as they dashed against the bows of the different vessels, the
shouting of the seamen mooring or unmooring, the orders, intermingled
with fierce oaths and threats, of the masters and mates as they exerted
all their energies to avert impending disasters, the crashing of
bulwarks, the destruction of cutwaters and bowsprits, and the demolition
of spars, a scene of unusual character was displayed, which, to a
person not a busy actor, was brim full of interest, and not destitute of
sublimity.
The mate of the Gustavus, with a number of men, was employed in carrying
off from the shore a cable and anchor, the small bower having parted
at the beginning of the gale. The mate represented the situation of the
brig as somewhat critical, and urged me to render assistance. Anxious to
see Strictland, I acceded to his request. It was not long before we were
under the bows of the brig. Men were engaged in carrying out the anchor
ahead to haul her away from a cluster of vessels which were making sad
havoc with her quarter rails, fashion pieces, and gingerbread work on
the stern.
I entered the forecastle, shook hands with Strictland, whose health had
greatly improved, with prospect of a speedy recovery, and bade him be
of good cheer, that he would be well enough on the morrow. I threw on a
chest my jacket and vest, containing what little money still remained
on hand, and my "protection," and thus airily equipped, reckless of the
clouds of mist and rain which at times enveloped the whole harbor, went
on deck and turned to with a will, notwithstanding the scurvy treatment
I had received from the captain the day before. When I reached the deck,
some of the men were engaged in heaving in the new cable; others were
just then called aft by the captain to assist in bearing off a sloop on
one quarter and a schooner on the other, and in disengaging the rigging
which had caught in the spars. The sloop had the appearance of a wreck.
The laniards of the shrouds had been cut away on both sides, and the
tall and tapering mast was quivering and bending like a whipstock,
from the action of the wind and the waves. One of the cables, it was
supposed, had parted; the sails, not having been properly furled, were
fluttering and struggling, not altogether in vain, to get loose; and
the deck on both sides was filled with shingle ballast, which had been
brought from the shore early that morning, in the fear that the sloop
might be driven out to sea, and had not been thrown into the hold.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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