1309704Twenty years before the mast1896Charles Erskine

CHAPTER II.




With the characteristic restlessness of a sailor, I could not remain long at home, and in a few days I had shipped again in the navy, this time for the Mediterranean station.

"How I love the blue waters! Their deep maddening roar
 Is food for the spirit unbounded by shore.
 Thy whirlwinds may shriek, thy lightnings may flash,
 Yet safe o’er thy bosom, old Ocean, I’ll dash."

I was first sent to New York with a draft of men to join the receiving-ship Fulton. In a few days, however, I was transferred to the brig Porpoise, Captain C. Ringold commander, and we sailed the next week for Norfolk, Va. Here we joined the exploring expedition just setting out on a voyage of discovery round the world. This was the first and only expedition sent out by the United States, and such a chance to visit the various quarters of this huge globe was never offered before or since. I liked our captain very much. He treated the crew like men; and as for the brig, she looked more rakish than ever, and I must acknowledge that I was more than ever in love with her. The squadron consisted of the sloop-of-war Vincennes, the flag-ship, Charles Wilkes commander; the sloop-of-war Peacock, Captain William L. Hudson; the ship Relief, Captain A. K. Long; the brig Porpoise, Captain C. Ringold; the schooner Sea Gull, Captain Reed; the schooner Flying Fish, Captain Samuel R. Knox; together with a full corps of scientific men, consisting of philologists, naturalists, mineralogists, conchologists, botanists, horticulturists, taxidermists, draughtsmen, etc., and a complement of six hundred and eighty-seven men. The entire equipment of the squadron was gen-

DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION.

erous and complete, and could not but reflect honor upon the nation whose public spirit could thus plan and execute a noble project the value of which to the cause of science could not easily be estimated.

Everything being ready, we dropped down to Hampton Roads. Commodore Wilkes inspected all the vessels and their crews. As he passed me at muster, "old Adam" came up, and I could not raise my eyes from the deck, for it was Commodore Wilkes at whose command I had been flogged. The following day we were honored by a visit from the President of the United States, Martin Van Buren, and his cabinet. All the vessels had their yards manned, and a national salute was fired. The next day, the 17th of August, 1838, a gun was fired, and signals were made that the squadron was under sailing orders. Soon after, the commodore’s gig came alongside, bringing orders for me with my bag and hammock. It seemed to me that I should sink through the deck. I felt more like jumping overboard than sailing with my worst enemy, and one on whom I had sworn to be revenged. I begged Captain Ringold to let me remain on board the brig. He said he wanted me to stay, but that he must obey orders, and told me to get into the boat. As we neared the ship, another gun was fired, and signals were made for the squadron to get under way. Shortly after we arrived on board, the capstan was manned, the anchor catted, and we were soon off, with an ebb tide and a light air from the sou’west. At five p. m. we anchored at the Horseshoe, in consequence of its falling calm, but at nine a. m. the wind freshened, and we tripped and stood down the bay. At four p. m. on the 19th we passed Cape Henry Light, and at nine a. m. we discharged our pilot and took our departure. This being Sunday, at six bells a. m. all hands were called to muster, and Divine service was performed by our chaplain, Mr. Elliot. He preached earnestly about the dangers and length of the voyage, and the probability that all of us might not live to return to our native land, then sinking from view. He spoke of God and his goodness, and reminded us that his all-seeing eye was ever upon us, whether at sea
or on dry land. Every one looked solemn. Thoughtless as I was at that time. I yet felt great reverence for the Supreme Being, and always doffed my hat before eating my meals. At the end of the service, each mess was given a Bible and a Prayer Book.

The day was indeed beautiful, with a light breeze, and the squadron was in company. I said that the crew looked sober. I know that many of them felt sad. Some of them had shipped for this expedition soon after the act was passed by Congress authorizing it to be fitted out, in the year 1836. Others had shipped for various stations, and had been for over a year on board the frigate Macedonian, under Commodore Jones and other commanders. To take off the rough, a few days before we left Norfolk, the commodore had given all hands a day’s liberty on shore; still, many felt very sad at having laid at anchor a year without visiting home or seeing any of their dear ones. Though Jack is a hand before the mast, he is a fellow-man with rights and feelings, and they should be respected by a generous government such as ours.

This was the first full-rigged ship I had ever sailed in, and it appeared different from all my other sea homes, which had been sloops, schooners, and brigs. In the first place, we had three decks — the spar deck, gun deck, and berth deck. Then, too, the crew was so large — two hundred. We were divided into sixteen messes, twelve men in a mess. I was in one of the petty officer’s messes. Each mess was provided with a piece of canvas — which, when spread on deck, served as a table cloth — a large tin pail and pan, and two wooden kids or little tubs, with brass hoops. We each furnished ourselves with a tin pot, pan, and spoon, likewise our small stores, such as tea, sugar, pepper, soap, etc., not forgetting our tobacco, all our clothing, with needle, thread, and wax. We drew on the purser for these things, and they were charged to our accounts. We were also divided into watches — starboard and larboard — and stationed in different parts of the ship, — some on the forecastle, some in the fore, main, and mizzen-tops, and some in the waist and after-guard. I was one of the forties, that is, the "never-sweats," — a mizzen-top man. I liked my station, the ship’s officers, and the crew; but the captain! — when I saw him, it made me revengeful, and I felt as if the evil one had taken possession of me. I only wish I could forget the past, and that it might not so constantly haunt me.

It was now the 22d of August. We were in the Gulf Stream, —

"Where the lightnings gleam
 And Boreas blows his blast."

For several days the weather had been lovely. The squadron sailing in line, free communication was had between the ships. In case of separation, we were to rendezvous at Madeira. On the eve of the 22d we had a most beautiful sunset and moonrise. It was a glorious sight to see the sun dipping beneath the waves of the ocean in the west, and to see at the same time the moon rise out of the waters in the east. Try to picture the scene, kind reader, I cannot describe it. The sea is indeed a fit place for contemplating the majesty and power of the Almighty, — "Where the air is calm, where sleep the deep waters." The scenery of the heavens and of the sea was magnificent, the former covered with those peculiar clouds called

"Mackerel skies and mares’ tails,
 The signs of sweet and pleasant gales."

The sea was as smooth as a mirror through the night. Nothing seemed to disturb its peaceful bosom, except now and then some huge monster of the deep or the gleaming of a shark’s fin.

On the 25th we set our course towards Madeira. For several days the weather was fine. On the 29th we crossed the Tropic of Cancer, longitude 4° west, at eight bells — twelve o’clock midnight. I had just relieved the lookout on the lee quarter. Except for a slight roll of the ship, silence reigned supreme. I am now about to reveal a secret that has been smothered in my breast for fifty long years. Would to God I could blot it from my memory! Through all these years it has been known to none save myself and to Him whose all-seeing eye is ever upon us. As I was looking down the cabin skylight, I saw Commodore Wilkes, the man who had ordered me to be flogged, sitting at a table tracing out a chart. I remembered my oath, and even then felt the sting of the boatswain’s colt. I realized the situation, and the devil took possession of me. I watched my opportunity, and as the officer of the deek walked forward I grabbed an iron belaying-pin from the rack. In an instant it was suspended over the commodore’s head, while I paused a moment, waiting for the ship’s weather roll. At that instant I saw, or fancied I saw, the upturned face of my mother. "My God! what does this mean?" I gasped under my breath. The belaying-pin was soon replaced in the rack, but it seemed to me that I had a death grip upon it. It was some time before I could take my hand from it. I felt as if I had committed the act, and were a criminal in thought, if not in deed. If I looked down into the blue sea or up into the depths of blue above, there I saw the face of my mother. I was only consoled by knowing that I had a forgiving Father. The awful suspense was broken by the officer of the deck singing out through his speaking- trumpet, "A bright lookout fore and aft!" "Ay, ay, sir!" was responded by the lookout from the fore-yard forecastle, weather and lee bows, gangway, and quarters.

At eight bells — four a. m. — the watch was relieved and I went below, but not to sleep. My mind was in a terrible turmoil. At sunrise the outlook from the fore-topsail yard reported a wreck.

"Where away?" was the cry.

"Two points on the weather bow," came the answer, which created considerable excitement on board.

We stood for what we supposed to be a wreck with the mast gone. It proved, however, to be a large cottonwood tree, one hundred and twenty feet long and fourteen feet in circumference. It had been in the water a long time and was covered with barnacles, and a large number of dolphins and deep-sea sharks were swimming about it. It was probably thousands of miles from the spot where it grew on the banks of the Mississippi. In rough weather it might easily have been mistaken for rocks. There is little doubt that many of the numerous reefs on our charts have as little reality as our supposed wreck. I recall that a few days before we sailed for Georges Banks, the Banks were reported to be out of water, by several inward-bound vessels. While surveying them we ran afoul of one of the largest dead whales I ever saw. It measured ninety-three feet in length, and was covered with barnacles. It had drifted in a tide-rip about a mile long, and in a storm it might easily have been mistaken for a sand-bar or a reef. Probably this whale and the seaweed had been thought to be the exposed Bank; but the Bank was not exposed, for the shoalest water we obtained on the Banks at that time was three fathoms.

September the 9th being Sunday, all hands were called to Divine service. The sermon from our chaplain was a discourse upon profane language. Such services called to mind scenes of the past, and awakened the better feelings of our natures. On the afternoon of the 10th the man at the mast-head reported land, which proved to be the Peak of Pico, one of the Western Islands. On the following day we made the northern coast of St. Michael’s, belonging to the same group, a high and mountainous island, but exceedingly fertile, and dotted with valleys, groves, and cultivated fields, which could be seen from the ship’s deck. For several days we were favored with fine weather and fair breezes, and were making rapid progress toward the place of destination. On the 15th, while he was setting the main- to’gallant-sail over a single reef topsail, George Porter, one of the maintop men, met with an accident. In loosing the sail, the buntline in some way got a couple of half hitches around his neck, and when we hoisted the sail we dragged him over the yard. Here he was seen to hang nearly lifeless, his tongue protruding from his mouth. As he swung there by the neck, two men ran aloft to his assistance, and it became doubtful on deck whether all three would not be dragged over by the weight of his body. A breathless anxiety held us all as we stood in momentary expectation of seeing a fellow- being dashed to the deck. Finally others gave assistance, and he was lowered and brought to the deck still alive. He soon recovered his senses, and recollecting that the drum had rolled to grog just before his accident, he asked, sailor like, for his share of it. This was truly a narrow escape, but, however, poor George was not destined to live out the voyage. He died on our way home, in the China Seas, from the black vomit.

On the 16th of September the tall cliffs and jagged outlines of the island of Madeira were discerned looming up above the water to the south. We soon doubled Estroza Pass, a prominent landmark for mariners while making the island. It is nearly sixteen hundred feet above the sea-level, and can be seen at a great distance. It is the home of the osprey and the sea-gull. At six o’clock we dropped anchor in Funchal Roads, near the town. We were soon visited by the American consul, who often came on board.

While lying here, we went on shore with the surveying party and witnessed the method of manufacturing the famous Madeira wine. Although a description may not add a relish to one’s cup, I will give it here as I saw it. A rude box or vat, about twelve feet square and two feet deep, was filled with grapes. Then an old man, an old woman, two dirty looking boys and girls, and two black boys stepped into the tub, the latter having the blackest faces I ever saw, and I have seen a great many. There was a striking contrast between their faces and their large, handsome ivory teeth and the whites of their eyes. While stamping the juice out of the grapes, they would sing and thrust their hands into their hair, scratching their heads furiously. From their appearance I do not imagine that they knew what a comb was. It was a very warm day, and they exerted themselves so violently that the perspiration fairly streamed from them. Their only articles of clothing were dirty, ragged shirts. I was astonished and disgusted, especially at the appearance of the two black boys, who looked as if they had been parboiled. After the grapes had been sufficiently trodden out, the tired laborers sat down, one after another, on the edge of the vat, while the old man scraped their legs and feet, commencing with the old lady. It takes about two bushels of grapes to produce one gallon of wine. Madeira wine, once shipped, can never again be introduced into the islands. This recalls one of my early voyages to the West Indies. We went out with a cargo of New England rum, and returned with the same rum, which was sold at a high price as real old Jamaica.

The Madeira Islands belong to Portugal, and have a population of about one hundred thousand inhabitants, including the blacks. The houses of the working people would here be called huts. They are composed of walls of stone about five feet high, with the roof rising from all sides to a pole. They are thatched with broom, and contain only one room. There is no need of a chimney, as a fire is seldom required. The women wear bodices and very short petticoats. They have shoes and stockings, but only put them on when they wish to appear fine, usually going barefoot. The children are poorly clad. They have but one garment, and that is often ragged and dirty. The men wear trousers that reach to the knees, with a shirt or jacket of gaudy colors. For a head-dress, both sexes wear funnel-shaped caps of cloth, tied under the chin with a string.

Here in this delightful climate grow all varieties of fruits, such as oranges, citrons, lemons, bananas, plantains, figs, pomegranates, apples, currants, pears, plums, peaches, melons, tomatoes, and the egg-plant. Here, on the summit of the mountains, flourishes the potato, solitary and alone. While anchored here, our ship was well supplied with plenty of fresh beef, vegetables and fruits of all kinds. I suppose there is no place in the known world which produces finer beef, fruit, and vegetables than this island. While here, some of the officers, scientific men, and some of the crew were busily engaged surveying the island and learning the manners and customs of the natives. This was done in all the places that we visited. The mountain paths we traveled in our surveying expeditions were almost impassable. In many places our mountain ponies were compelled to leap from rock to rock, frequently at an angle of forty- five degrees with the horizon. In passing through Machico we visited a small church, said to have been erected over the graves of two lovers, Anne d’Arfet and Robert Machim. The story of their love and suffering has long since been classed among legends, though it is still credited in Madeira. As the adventures of this hero and heroine are supposed to have led to the discovery of the islands, it may be well to give them a place here.

During the reign of King Edward III, of England, Robert Machim, an English gentleman, became the lover of the beautiful Anne d’Arfet. It was long before their mutual attachment was discovered; but when at length it became known, Machim’s imprisonment was procured by the influence of Anne’s family, to punish him for his presumption in aspiring to the hand of one so much above his rank. During his confinement, Anne d’Arfet had been forced into a marriage with a nobleman, who imprisoned her in his castle near Bristow. By the assistance of a friend, Machim escaped, and induced Anne to elope with him to seek an asylum in France. They sailed during a storm, which prevented them from gaining their intended port. After many days of anxiety and suffering, they were cheered by the sight of land that was clothed with the richest vegetation and with flowers in profusion. They determined to disembark, and found a beautiful climate, while birds of the gayest plumage tenanted the island. After wandering a few days in this paradise, there came on a violent storm, which drove the vessel from the island. This was too great a blow for the unfortunate Anne, and she died soon after of a broken heart. Robert did not long survive her, and his dying request was that he might be laid in the same grave with her whom he had loved "not wisely, but too well," in a chapel which they had erected to commemorate their deliverance from shipwreck. This story is said to be derived from the account given by the other survivors of the wreck, who left the island and after many adventures returned to their native land with an account of the discovery of Madeira.

On the 25th we weighed anchor and bade adieu to the beautiful island. The weather was all that one could wish, with a sweet and balmy breeze. At two bells — nine o’clock — all hands were called to muster, and many of the crew were rated: John Black, seaman, to be a boatswain’s mate; Jack Bowlin, seaman, to be captain of the forecastle; Tom Coffin, seaman, to be captain of the maintop; Thomas Piner, signal quartermaster; Samuel Williams, gunner’s mate; Samuel Stretch, seaman, quarter gunner; James H. Gibson, seaman, to be coxswain; Daniel Banks ordinary seaman, to be seaman; and so on. Your humble servant, the writer, was raised from a first-class boy to an ordinary seaman, from eight to ten dollars a month, and that, too from the day that I shipped. I recollect once arriving at Long Wharf, Boston, in an old molasses drogher from Bermuda. The captain, who was very tyrannical, abused us terribly, and provoked one of the crew so that the man swore he would give him a good sound thrashing as soon as we were made fast head and stern We had gone below to pack our clothing, when the captain put his head over the companion-way and sang out in a soft, feminine tone of voice: "My men, I want you all to come down into my cabin, I have something for you all." We all went except old Jack, the man who had been so angry. The captain sent the cook after him. When the cook returned, he was ordered by the captain to get half-a-dozen bottles of old Jamaica out of the locker. After we had "spliced the mainbrace" several times, the captain addressed us in the following words: "You are the best sailor-men that ever lived in a ship’s forecastle, and I want you all to go with me on my next voyage." We all left the brig together, and were soon at the head of the wharf, when we missed old Jack. He soon hove in sight, however, with his head hanging down, looking very serious and pale. We asked him what the matter was with him. He said that he had been seriously thinking about the old man. "What of him?" we asked. "Well, now, my shipmates, he is not so bad, after all, is he?" Just so, to be raised from a boy to a man — from eight dollars to ten — is not so bad, after all, is it?

I never saw the sea more alive with its inhabitants. Its surface seemed to be covered with schools of whales, sharks, flying fish, bonitoes, dolphins, and porpoises. We caught several of the latter, and made a fish or porpoise dinner.

Weather fair, with a light wind from the north, and a few fleecy clouds overhead. A very large water-spout was seen on the lee quarter, and another forming close aboard. About half a mile to leeward we saw what looked like a school of fish, fifty or sixty feet broad, on the surface of the water. It soon became much disturbed, and looked as if boiling. A bluish vapor or steam arose from it, and directly over it was a heavy black cloud resembling a huge balloon.

The lower part or nozzle of the balloon cloud was seen to descend and unite with a whirlwind which had caught up the agitated waters. It assumed a trumpet shape, with the broad end downwards. Its narrowest part between the whirlwind and the cloud was about twenty feet broad. The sun, which looked like a huge ball of fire, was rising at the time. There was quite an upper current of wind, which drove the balloon-shaped cloud onward and dragged the whirlwind or lower part of the water-spout over the surface of the water. The sun shining through the spout gave it the appearance of being on fire. Vivid flashes of lightning frequently issued from the black cloud, which continued from the commencement of the first ripple upon the surface of the waters until the bursting of the spout half an hour later. This was immediately followed by a heavy shower of the largest raindrops I ever saw. Scarcely a breath of air stirred to ripple the mirror-like expanse of the ocean, and the big drops falling upon its surface sparkled like diamonds in the sun. The morning display was followed that night by an exhibition of old ocean’s fireworks that far excelled the most brilliant ever given on Boston Common on Fourth of July.

I had often seen what seemed to be tiny sparks in the wake of the ship, but that night the whole surface of the sea was bespangled with what seemed like lightning- bugs or fireflies of mammoth size. There was a considerable swell, and the sea, sparkling as it did in every part with light, was truly grand. It seemed as if the sky had dropped to a level with the ship, and its bright, glittering stars were rolling about over the billows. The smaller fishes could be traced by running lines; while now and then the movement of some monster caused the gleaming light to extend many fathoms in every direction.

After passing the Canary Islands, we cruised for reefs and sunken rocks, reported as being in this quarter, the squadron sailing in open line. Good lookouts were kept at the mast-heads, and soundings were taken with three hundred fathoms of line every half-hour, but no bottom was discovered. There was sufficient swell to cause breakers on any shoal which rose to within fifteen feet of the surface of the water. We sailed over the locality without perceiving anything that looked like shoal, rocks, or reefs. On the morning of the 7th of October we came to anchor off the town of San Jago, on one of the Cape Verde Islands. They were discovered in 1460 by the Portuguese, and are still subject to Portugal. They form a group of twenty islands, and are sparsely inhabited. The land is all mountainous, with scarcely enough vegetation to support the people and their cattle. The inhabitants, isolated as they are, with nearly all channels of communication between them and other countries cut off, are dependent for their chief means of sustenance upon vessels stopping there for wood and water. All trade is carried on by barter. From the time of their discovery, these islands have been subject at intervals to severe drought and famine. The rain of heaven is often withheld for several years in succession, and at such times all the sources of fertility are dried up, and the people and cattle perish for want of water and food. The most fatal of these famines occurred in the year 1832, when half the population lost their lives and all the cattle died. Liberal assistance was rendered by other countries as well as by our own, and the generous conduct of our nation is still remembered among them with the liveliest emotions of gratitude.

In a valley west of the town, about half a mile distant by the path, is the market-place. Here there is a beautiful spring, surrounded by tropical trees, such as the cocoanut, date, banana, papaya, and lime, with grapes and other fruits. Over the spring is a thatched roof. It is always surrounded by a group of the most remarkable objects in human shape that can well be conceived. Looking on one side you see blind beggars, dirty soldiers, and naked children; on the other, lepers, boys with monkeys, others with parrots and fowls, half-dressed women, donkeys no larger than sheep, driven by very large boys, to say nothing of numerous persons suffering from loathsome diseases who are performing their ablutions. Here were sailors washing, chatting, singing, and laughing; there a group of natives of all sizes, sexes, colors, and ages, with turbaned heads and gay-colored handkerchiefs. These latter are worn in a fashion different from what we are accustomed to. They are arranged like a shawl reversed, the ends hanging down behind, while the point is in front, and the breast and part of the face are covered by it. Market is held daily in the morning when any shipping is in port. We witnessed a morning drill of the recruits, which was amusing. The men were cleanly dressed, but the rattan was freely used by the sergeant. During the drill he ordered one of the men out of the line to light his pipe.

We weighed anchor on the nth of October and stood for Patty’s Overfalls, as laid down on the chart. In the afternoon we spoke the Danish brig Lion, Rio de Janeiro. We also spoke the ship Crusader, seventy-five days from Bombay. She was in need of medical aid, and we sent a surgeon on board. It also afforded us no small pleasure to supply them with fruit and vegetables. On the 9th we reached the supposed position of Patty’s Overfalls. We saw nothing of them, although we sailed over several tide-rips. We sounded every half-hour with our deep-sea line, but did not touch bottom. We now cruised for the Warleys. The English, French, and other vessels had reported shoals off the African coast. The squadron was spread as before, in open order, covering as much space as possible, and we passed over the locality mentioned, but saw no appearance of shallow water or danger of any kind. While here we witnessed a brilliant display of falling stars, some sixty or eighty falling in a minute. They were large and brilliant, and seemed to shoot in all directions from the constellations of Gemini, Taurus, Orion, Leo, and Pleiades. It was a wonderful sight.

Nothing more of importance occurred until near the close of November, when land was reported from the lookout aloft. In a few hours we caught sight of the richly variegated tints resting like a halo over the tall summit of Cape Frio, forty miles north of Rio de Janeiro. Favored by a light wind from the sou’east, we entered the harbor under full press of canvas. As we proceeded, we saw our own flag floating to the breeze from the mizzen peak of that magnificent specimen of naval architecture, the frigate Independence, Commodore Downs, and as we passed her our hearts beat to the tune of "Hail Columbia," played by her band. I shall have little to say of Brazil and the Brazilians, Peru and the Peruvians, Chili and the Chilians, as I did of the slave-ships and the pirates of the West Indies, which are so familiar to the general reader. I shall prefer to dwell more on the sunny islands of the Pacific and the frozen regions of the Antarctic.