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
My recollections of this cruise are very feeble and indistinct,
owing to a severe injury which confined me to my hammock nearly
the whole period. The accident which ended in a severe illness had
its origin in the following manner. The duty of cleaning knives,
plates, dish-covers, &c., for the ward-room, devolved alternately on
the boys employed in the ward-room. Having finished this task, one
day, in my regular turn, the ward-room steward, a little hot-headed
Malay, came to me at dinner-time to inquire for the knives. Not
recollecting for the moment, I made no reply; when he angrily pushed
me over a sack of bread. In falling my head came in contact with
the corner of a locker. Feeling much pain, and the blood flowing
freely, I went to Mr. Marsh, the surgeon’s mate, who dressed it,
and bade me take care of it. Probably it would have healed speedily
but for the freak of a sailor a few days after, while holy-stoning
the decks. By holy-stoning, I mean cleaning them with stones, which
are used for this purpose in men of war. These stones are, some of
them, large, with a ring at each end with a rope attached, by which
it is pulled backwards and forwards on the wet decks. These large
stones are called holy bibles; the smaller hand ones are also called
holy-stones, or prayer-books, their shape being something like a
book. After the decks are well rubbed with these stones, they are
wiped dry with swabs made of rope-yarns. By this means the utmost
cleanliness is preserved in the ship. It was customary in our ship,
during this scrubbing process, for the boys to wash themselves in
a large tub provided for the purpose on the main deck. The men
delighted in sousing us with water during this operation. After
being wounded, as just mentioned, I endeavored to avoid their briny
libations; but one morning, one of the sailors, seeing my anxiety,
crept slily up behind me, and emptied a pail of water directly
over my head. That night I began both to look and to feel sick. My
messmates said I was sea-sick, and laughed at me. Feeling violent
pains in my head, ears and neck, I felt relieved when it was time
to turn in. The next morning, being rather behind my usual time in
waiting upon the surgeon, he began to scold me. I told him I was
unwell. He felt my pulse, examined my tongue, and excused me. Growing
worse, my messmates got down my hammock. I entered it very sick; my
head and face swelling very large, and my eyes so sunken I could
scarcely see.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account