Dikes and Ditches; Or, Young America in Holland and Belgium - A Story of Travel and Adventure. Oliver 1822-1897 Optic
was with the greatest difficulty that any one could stand up on deck. The billows were momentarily increasing, and the Josephine had fallen off into the trough of the sea, and rolled helplessly in the surging waves, so that her fore yard appeared almost to dip in the brine. The outhaul was run out on the deck, and manned by all the hands that could get hold of it. The lee sheet was extended in like manner, and the whole after guard, besides the two adult forward officers, were called to walk away with it.
“O, dear!” groaned Mr. Hamblin, after the vessel had given an unusually heavy lee lurch, the jerk of which had nearly knocked the breath out of his body.
“What’s the matter, your honor?” demanded Cleats, who always pitied a landlubber in a gale.
“Do you think there’s any danger, Mr. Cleats?” gasped the professor.
“Danger! Bless your honor’s heart! there’s never any danger in a good ship, well manned,” replied the veteran tar, as he knocked a kink out of the sheet. “Look at the captain! When he gets scared, you may.”
“It is really terrible!” puffed the learned professor.
“Wouldn’t your honor like the boat now?” growled the boatswain, with a hearty chuckle.
“All ready at the sheets, sir!” screamed Robinson, the fourth lieutenant, who had charge of the waist at quarters.
“Hold on, Mr. Terrill!” shouted the captain, as the Josephine rolled on her lee side till the water bubbled up in her scuppers. “Wait till I give you the word!”
Paul was waiting for a favorable moment, when the blast should lull a little, to set the reefed foresail.
“You must get out of the way, gentlemen!” said Terrill, roaring out the words through his trumpet. “The sheet blocks will knock you over!”
Mr. Stoute unmoored himself, and made a dive at the life-line, where the captain was holding on; but, being rather clumsy in his obesity, he missed his aim, and was thrown into the scuppers. Mr. Cleats went to his assistance, and picked him up while he lay upon his back, with his legs and arms thrown up like a turtle trying to turn over. Mr. Hamblin was not encouraged by this experiment of his associate.
“Why don’t you go below, sir?” shouted Terrill, placing his trumpet close to the professor’s head.
“I can’t move,” replied he.
“Mr. Gage will help you,” added the lieutenant.
The carpenter assisted Mr. Hamblin to the companion-way, while the boatswain had succeeded in rolling Mr. Stoute up to the same point. The doors were opened, and the head steward helped them down the ladder.
“All ready!” shouted Captain Kendall, when the favorable moment came for setting the foresail.
“Let go the brails!” bellowed the executive officer. “Haul out!”
The ready seaman promptly obeyed the order, at the instant when the vessel, having rolled over as far as her centre of gravity would permit her to go in the trough of the sea, was poised as it were on a balance, waiting for the recoil of the wave that was to throw her down on the weather roll. The close-reefed foresail flew out from the brails, and began to thresh tremendously in the fierce blast.
“Slack the weather vang!” continued Terrill to the hands who had been stationed at this rope. “Walk away with the sheet!”
It required a tremendous pull to haul home the sheet of the foresail, banging furiously in the tempest; but there was force enough to accomplish it, though not till the vessel had made her weather roll, which lifted half the line of seamen from their feet. The close-reefed foresail was trimmed so as to lay the schooner to with her head up to the sea. The billows were increasing in volume so fearfully that it was no longer prudent to permit the vessel to roll in the trough of the sea, where she was in danger of being overwhelmed by the combing waves.
“Mind your helm, Blair!” called the first lieutenant, springing aft to the wheel. “Port a little! Don’t let the sail be taken aback!”
The head of the Josephine came up handsomely to the sea, and it was thus proved that the double-reefed foresail was just the sail for such an emergency. It was only to be demonstrated whether the sail would be blown out of the bolt-ropes or not. If it had been an old one, such would probably have been its fate; but being nearly new, and of the best material, it stood the strain to the end.
“Mind your eye, Blair!” roared Terrill. “Starboard!”
“Starboard, sir!” replied the quartermaster.
“Touch her up when it comes so heavy,” added the lieutenant.
The vessel had fallen off, and took the wind so far on the beam that she buried her scuppers deep in the waves. The order to “touch her up,” or luff her up into the wind, so as partially to spill the sail, was given to ease off the tremendous pressure. The Josephine minded her helm, and luffed so that she righted herself.
“Steady, Blair!” called the lieutenant. “Port! Not too much, or you’ll broach her to!”
“Sail ho!” suddenly shouted several of the seamen in the forward part of the vessel.
“Where away?”
“Right over the lee bow! She has capsized!”
Paul and Terrill ran to the rail, and discovered a small vessel, lying over on her beam ends.
“That’s a Dutch galiot!” exclaimed Cleats, who promptly recognized the craft. “That’s a trick they have of turning bottom upwards.”
“Port!” shouted Terrill, who did not take his eye off the foresail of the Josephine for more than an instant at a time.
The attention of the quartermaster and the helmsman had been attracted by the announcement of the wreck, and they had permitted the Josephine to luff up until the foresail began to shake. The atmosphere was so thick that the galiot was seen but for an instant, and it then disappeared in the dense mists. Captain Kendall trembled with emotion when he saw the disabled vessel; but it was impossible to do anything for her until the hurricane subsided.
Fortunately the worst of it had already passed, and a few moments later it ceased almost as suddenly as it commenced. The rain began to fall in torrents, while a fresh breeze and a tremendous sea were all that remained of the hurricane—for such it was, rather than an ordinary squall.
“Set the jib and mainsail, Mr. Terrill,” said Captain Kendall. “We must endeavor to find that wreck.”
These sails were accordingly hoisted, the Josephine came about, and stood off in the direction towards which the galiot was supposed to have drifted. The Young America had not been seen since the squall came up; but Paul conjectured that she had run away before it. He was deeply interested in the fate of those on board of the wreck, and trusted he should be able to render them some assistance, if all on board of her had not already perished.
The rain poured down furiously; but it did not dampen the enthusiasm of the young officers and crew, though they were already drenched to the skin. The reefed foresail was taken in, for it was found that the jib and mainsail were all the schooner needed. She stood on for an hour or more, without obtaining a sight of the wreck, though every eye on board was strained to catch the first glimpse of it.
“We must have passed her,” said the captain.
“It is so thick we can’t see her, even if we should go within half a mile of her.”
“Come about, and stand a little more to the southward!” added Captain Kendall. “Let the fog-horns be blown. We may get a signal of some kind from them.”
“I am afraid they were lost overboard; and that there is no one left to make a signal,” answered Terrill, sadly.
The vessel was put about, and headed as indicated by the captain. The fog-horns were blown at intervals, and every one on board listened eagerly for