Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy: A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from the earliest part of the century to the present time, with accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending fatalities.Anonymous
History
Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy: A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from the earliest part of the century to the present time, with accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending fatalities.
Anonymous
Mutiny; Pirates; Seafaring life; Shipwrecks
At twelve, the gale still increasing, wore ship, to keep as near
mid-channel between Jamaica and Cuba, as possible; at one the gale
increasing still; at two, harder yet, it still blows harder! Reefed
the courses, and furled them; brought to under a foul mizen stay-sail,
head to the northward. In the evening no sign of the weather taking
off, but every appearance of the storm increasing, prepared for a
proper gale of wind; secured all the sails with spare gaskets; good
rolling tackles upon the yards; squared the booms; saw the boats all
made fast; new lashed the guns; double breeched the lower deckers; saw
that the carpenters had the tarpawlings and battens all ready for
hatchways; got the top-gallant-mast down upon the deck; jib-boom and
sprit-sail-yard fore and aft; in fact every thing we could think of to
make a snug ship.
The poor devils of birds now began to find the uproar in the elements,
for numbers, both of sea and land kinds, came on board of us. I took
notice of some, which happening to be to leeward, turned to windward,
like a ship, tack and tack; for they could not fly against it. When
they came over the ship they dashed themselves down upon the deck,
without attempting to stir till picked up, and when let go again, they
would not leave the ship, but endeavoured to hide themselves from the
wind.
At eight o'clock a hurricane; the sea roaring, but the wind still
steady to a point; did not ship a spoonful of water. However, got the
hatchways all secured, expecting what would be the consequence, should
the wind shift; placed the carpenters by the mainmast, with broad
axes, knowing, from experience, that at the moment you may want to cut
it away to save the ship, an axe may not be found. Went to supper:
bread, cheese, and porter. The purser frightened out of his wits about
his bread bags; the two marine officers as white as sheets, not
understanding the ship's working so much, and the noise of the lower
deck guns; which, by this time, made a pretty screeching to people not
used to it; it seemed as if the whole ship's side was going at each
roll. Wooden, our carpenter, was all this time smoking his pipe and
laughing at the doctor; the second lieutenant upon deck, and the third
in his hammock.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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