The White Squall: A Story of the Sargasso SeaHutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
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The White Squall: A Story of the Sargasso Sea
Hutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
Sargasso Sea -- Fiction
"By Jingo, he's a sailor every inch of him!" I heard one of the old
hands of the crew murmur in admiration as he pulled in with a will the
weather braces for about the sixth time in as many minutes; and, truth
to say, I could not help sharing the feeling of respect all the crew had
for our captain, who, easy-going as he was generally in fine weather,
letting the first mate then attend to the working of the ship, he was
"all there," as they said, when the necessity for prompt action in any
emergency called for exertion and made him show himself in his true
colours.
But, struggle to outstrip it as much as he might, the water-spout came
nearer and nearer to us, bearing down still broadside-on upon the ship.
As I stood close to the captain and Moggridge, who alone were on the
poop besides myself, Mr Marline and Davis the second mate being in the
waist, looking after the men at the braces amidships, I noticed that the
pillar of cloud became more transparent in proportion as it decreased in
size from the upper portion, until it seemed almost perfectly so at the
lower extremity where it touched the sea. I observed, too, that a small
inner column of equal diameter, looking like a glass tube, went up the
middle. This, evidently, was the water which was being sucked up into
the mass of vapour above as if by a syphon.
Fortunately, just as it seemed almost touching the ship, when the
whirling waves round its base made us oscillate from side to side, the
_Josephine_, heeling over to her chain-plates from a sudden rush of wind
that appeared to accompany it, the portentous column of vapour darted
off almost at right angles to its former course; and then, the cloud,
having taken up more of the sea-water than it could contain, burst with
a loud hissing sort of report, the contents falling around us in the
form of a heavy downpour of rain which sluiced our decks down, but
happily did no further damage.
"Thank God!" exclaimed Captain Miles reverently, taking off his cap and
looking upwards in grateful recognition of the providential care that
had watched over and protected us from the fearful peril which had
threatened us; and his thanksgiving was participated in by more than one
other, I knew, for I could see Moggridge's lips moving in silent prayer,
while I felt inclined to fall on my knees, my heart was so full of joy
and gladness at our narrow escape.
I was overpowered with a feeling of wonder and awe.
Strangely enough, there seemed some strong connection between the water-
spout and the wind; for, no sooner had the column of vapour broken up,
than the heavy clouds dispersed away to leeward. The sun then came out
again, and the squally weather calmed down to a gentle breeze from the
south-east that enabled us to haul round again on our proper course, the
ship presently being covered anew with canvas and the reefs in the
topsails shaken out.
When all danger was over, though, the whole thing puzzled me very much.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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