The Sea Lions; Or, The Lost SealersCooper, James Fenimore
General
The Sea Lions; Or, The Lost Sealers
Cooper, James Fenimore
Sea stories; Sealers (Persons) -- Fiction
This opinion of Gardiner's fully described all that subsequently occurred.
The outer floe continued its inroads on the inner, breaking up the margins
of both, until the channel was so nearly closed as to bring the field from
which the danger was most apprehended in absolute contact with the side of
the schooner. When the margin of the outer floe first touched the bilge of
the schooner, it was at the precise spot where the vessel had just been
fortified within. Fenders had also been provided without, and there was
just a quarter of a minute, during which the two captains hoped that these
united means of defence might enable the craft to withstand the pressure.
This delusion lasted but a moment, however, the cracking of timbers
letting it be plainly seen that the force was too great to be resisted.
For another quarter of a minute, the two masters held their breath,
expecting to see the deck rise beneath their feet, as the ice rose along
the points of contact between the floes. Such, in all probability, would
have been the result, had not the pressure brought about another change,
that was quite as much within the influence of the laws of mechanical
forces, though not so much expected. Owing to the wedge-like form of the
vessel's bottom, as well as to the circumstance that the ice of the outer
floe had a similar shape, projecting beneath the schooner's keel, the
craft was lifted bodily, with an upward jerk, as if she were suddenly
released from some imprisoning power. Released she was, indeed, and that
most opportunely, for another half-minute would have seen her ribs broken
in, and the schooner a mangled wreck. As she now rose, Roswell gave vent
to his delight in a loud cry, and all hands felt that the occurrence might
possibly save them. The surge upward was fearful, and several of the men
were thrown off their feet; but it effectually released the schooner from
the nip, laying her gradually up in the sort of dock that her people had
been so many hours preparing for her reception. There she lay, inclining a
little, partly on her bilge, or sewed, as seamen term it, when a vessel
gets a list from touching the ground and being left by the tide, neither
quite upright, nor absolutely on her beam-ends.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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