With the top-sail gone, the bark fell off into the trough of the sea. Then the sea washed over the decks. For the first time on the ocean I saw the experiment tried of dragging a vessel head on to sea. The end of a large hawser was fastened to the vessel's head, the rest put overboard, in hopes that in dragging through the water the strain would swing us head on. It was not a success. The waves washed the hawser all around the bark's bow and sides. If we could have once got it straightened out, the plan might have worked. Many a shipwrecked sailor has been saved by a similar plan, when compelled to abandon a ship and take to a small boat, by fastening a rope to the middle of an oar and throwing it into the water. It has thus kept the boat's head to the seas, and prevented it from swamping. The lee-pump was kept going continually, and that was hard work. Two men at a time were at the handle. The bark was badly strained and leaking considerably. At one time we thought all the water was pumped out, but that was a mistake on our part. The pump had commenced sucking, and no water was coming up. The fact of no air hissing as usual seemed rather strange. The upper box was taken out, and then an iron hook lowered down for the lower box. When that was hauled up, the mystery was explained. About a pint of nicely water-soaked beans was holding the clapper down. By using the sounding rod, we found about fourteen inches of water below. The pump was rigged again and started, and in a few more minutes it was the same old trouble--more beans! The process of drawing the boxes was gone over again. The same result followed--more beans! A barrel of that edible fruit had broken open in the cargo, and every individual bean had found its way to the pump-well. The comments were loud and deep, and the man who invented beans was damned in all styles in several different languages.