Manuel Pereira; Or, The Sovereign Rule of South CarolinaAdams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)
General
Manuel Pereira; Or, The Sovereign Rule of South Carolina
Adams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)
African Americans -- Fiction; Biographical fiction; Pereira, Manuel -- Fiction; South Carolina -- Fiction
The skipper now consulted in his mind as to the expediency of making for
Havana or proceeding on his cruise. The leak had materially diminished,
and, like all old vessels, though she gave a good portion of work at
the pumps, a continuation of good weather might afford an opportunity
to shove her across. Under these feelings, he was inclined to give the
preference to his hopes rather than yield to his fears. He considered
the interest of all concerned--consulted his mate, but found him
governed by his superstition, and looking upon the issue of his life
about as certain whether he jumped overboard or “stuck by the old tub.”
He considered again the enormous port-charges imposed in Havana, the
nature of his cargo in regard to tariff, should his vessel be condemned,
and the ruinous expenses of discharging, &c. &c. together with the cost
of repairs, providing they were ordered. All these things he considered
with the mature deliberation of a good master, who has the general
interests of all concerned at heart. So, if he put away for a port, in
consideration of all concerned, his lien for general average would have
strong ground in maritime law; yet there were circumstances connected
with the sea-worthy condition of the craft--known to himself, if not to
the port-wardens, and which are matters of condition between the master
and his owners--which might, upon certain technicalities of law, give
rise to strong objectionable points. With all these glancing before
him, he, with commendable prudence, resolved to continue his voyage, and
trust to kind Providence for the best.
“Captain,” said the mate, as he stood viewing the prospect, with a
marlinespike in one hand and a piece of seizing in the other--“I verily
think, if that blow had stuck to us two hours longer, the old tub would
a' rolled her futtocks out. Ye don't know her as well as I do. She's
unlucky, anyhow; and always has been since she sot upon the water. I've
seen her top-sides open like a basket when we've been trying to work her
into port in heavy weather: and a craft that won't look nearer than
nine points close-hauled, with a stiff breeze, ought to be sent into the
Clyde for a coal-droger. An old vessel's a perfect pickpocket to owners;
and if this old thing hasn't opened their purses as bad as her own
seams, I'll miss my reckonin'. I've had a strong foreknowledge that we
wouldn't get across in her. I saw the rats leaving in Jamaica--taking
up their line of march, like marines on the fore. It's a sure sign. And
then I'd a dream, which is as sure as a mainstay--never deceives me. I
can depend on its presentiment. I have dreamed it several times, and we
always had an awful passage. Twice we come within a bobstay of all
goin' to Old Davy's store-house. I once escaped it, after I'd had my
mysterious dream; but then I made the cook throw the cat overboard just
after we left port, and 'twas all that saved us.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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