With the morning came the constable, who took us off to jail with as little ceremony as we walked into the hut. The captain hearing of our confinement came and paid five dollars each, as a fine, and took us back, we thinking that we had one of the finest times imaginable. Got ready for sea the next day, called all hands, found one man missing. What became of him we never knew. We cruised about the islands two or three weeks for whales; the same poor success which we experienced on other grounds attended us here, and sick at heart we turned our course towards New Bedford, with only 250 barrels Oil, when we should have had full ship. Our ship was capable of holding 750 barrels. In the gulf stream we encountered a tremendous gale from the north east, which contending with the strong current which ran in a contrary direction, (from the south west,) caused a very high and irregular sea. We[42] shortened sail and ran the vessel as long as possible. The night set in so extremely dark that we were unable to distinguish one object from another, only by the lightning's flash. I remained at the wheel from eight to twelve, P. M. At one time a heavy sea suddenly struck us upon our quarter, breaking the davits, (by which the boats are hoisted) sweeping the boat across the deck, bursting the bulwarks off and buried me up to the middle in water. I felt as if I was alone upon deck, for surely no one could possibly be there who was not previously lashed. The wretchedness of the situation the pen cannot picture. At length I felt a hand laid heavily upon me, at the same time the well known voice of the captain cries, "who has the helm?" "Bill, sir," says I. An extra man was offered me at the helm if I wished. This I declined, feeling desirous of preserving the strength of the crew, if possible, for greater emergencies. I left the helm at twelve o'clock and went below. At four all hands were called to make sail, the wind having abated, though the sea rolled so very heavily, that the vessel was in great danger of being dismasted. At noon all possible sail was made. During the night we saw Cape Hatteras light, found ourselves rather nearer than prudence would permit, as it is one of the most dangerous places in the known world, hauled our wind and stood off from the shore. We crowded all sail possible, and reached New Bedford about the first of April, having been absent nine months. No sooner had I stepped on my own native soil, than home with all its allurements presented itself to my mind. I well knew the joy my return would bring to those patents from whose roof I had thus long absented[43] myself, and I was almost persuaded to forsake the sailor's hard and bitter lot and turn again to the home of my youth, and wander no more. But then my mind would revert to the reception I met with on my last return, and I resolved to redeem the pledge made when I last left home.