At last the pay-clerks came on board, and paid the ship's company. A fine bright morning saw the signal flying from the admiral's ship for the fleet to weigh and work out to Saint Helen's. There was a nice working breeze, a blue sky, and the water just rippled enough to reflect with more dazzling splendour the rays of the glorious sun, as he shed them almost along the path we were to pursue. It was, in truth, a beautiful sight; and considering the number of ships--some eighteen sail or more, all beating out together within so narrow a channel,--it was surprising that much damage was not done, especially when it is remembered that the crews of half the ships had never been to sea before, and that the ropes were stiff and new, and did not work well. One ship, I believe, carried away her flying jib-boom against the stern of another; and with that slight loss, and a small expenditure of abuse from the respective crews, who thought each other to blame, we reached Saint Helen's. The next day we were fairly off to sea; the fleet formed in two lines, the White and the Blue Squadrons, which Sir Peppery manoeuvred with much skill, to the no small trouble of the signal midshipmen. The second day, Ned Lenny, the young gentleman on board the _Harold_ who held that office, vowed he must leave the service and go into the Dragoons, if it was to be carried on in that way; though the following morning he thought better of it. He gained, however, the _sobriquet_ of the Heavy, which, as he was a cocksparrow of a fellow, he retained ever afterwards. Captain Poynder was not inclined to save either officers or crew till we got into good order, which we accordingly did our best to accomplish. After cruising for six weeks, we were ordered to Spithead to complete our provisions, water, and stores; and then, having taken some passengers on board, made all sail for our station in Mediterranean.