Thirty Years From Home; or, a Voice From the Main Deck: Being the Experience of Samuel LeechLeech, Samuel
History
Thirty Years From Home; or, a Voice From the Main Deck: Being the Experience of Samuel Leech
Leech, Samuel
Adventure and adventurers; Leech, Samuel, 1798-1848; Sailors; United States -- History -- War of 1812 -- Personal narratives
While these matters were passing on board, our little brig was
dashing through the waves in fine style. We arrived at the Balize,
from whence we dropped down to Ship Island, where we took in water.
A share of this severe task fell to my lot, for I was here taken out
of the gig, and placed in the jolly-boat, to make way for a smaller
and lighter lad in the former. We obtained our water by digging large
holes in the sand, into which we placed our casks; the salt water,
by passing through so much sand, would be so thoroughly filtrated,
that by the time it reached our casks it was fit for use. We then
emptied it into ten-gallon kegs, called breakers, which we carried
on our shoulders to the boat. This of itself was hard work, but we
had certain tormentors on this island, which made it a task of much
suffering. These were hosts of hungry, gigantic moschetos, which
assailed our persons, and especially our naked feet, in flying
squadrons, with a ferocity that indicated an uncontrollable thirst
for blood. But even these were not our worst persecutors. They
were attended by armies of large, yellow horseflies, which our men
called gallinippers. These merciless insect savages were always sure
to attack the very spot we had rubbed sore, after the bite of a
moscheto. Their bite felt like the thrust of a small sword; I still
retain scars on my feet occasioned by these fierce gallinippers.
This island bore marks of the battle of New Orleans; for we found
various articles bearing the broad arrow and stamped G. R. We also
remarked several mounds, which had the appearance of being large
graves. We afterwards learned that this was the place where the
British brought their dead, after their unsuccessful attack on the
city of New Orleans.
From Ship Island, we proceeded to New Orleans. This was a laborious
passage; the current ran down the river with amazing force, bearing
huge logs on its bosom, which, if suffered to strike either our bows
or cables, were capable of doing much damage: to avoid them required
no trifling exertions. Sometimes we endeavored to track her, or draw
her along with ropes, as canal-boats are drawn by horses. But, as
this brought us into shallow water, it was abandoned.
The banks of the river displayed large numbers of alligators,
luxuriating on the numerous logs that were fast in the mud. We made
many attempts to get near enough to these scaly monsters to pierce
them with a boat-hook; but they kept too sharp a look-out for us;
invariably diving into the stream before our boat got near enough
for us to strike them. But, if we failed in capturing alligators, we
obtained an abundance of palm-leaf, from the shore, with which we
furnished ourselves with hats.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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