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By Mrs. D.B. Bates
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Chapter One through Five • Chapters
6,
7
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Chapters Eight through Ten >>
CHAPTER VI
ONCE more I found myself on board a good
ship, bounding gaily over the blue waters. Captain McKenzie possessed, in an
eminent degree, the ability of rendering his passengers perfectly at home
and happy. His crew were composed entirely of Scotchmen; and, every evening,
the echo of their merry Scotch songs were wafted far over the deep sea.
Captain McKenzie proposed teaching to me the Spanish language, being a
perfect linguist himself. He found me far more tractable in that than in
learning to take a glass of his "good Scotch whiskey," as he termed it, to
which I had taken a mortal aversion, and for which he entertained a decided
preference.
He was a skilful navigator, and, on his voyages around Cape Horn, invariably
passed through the Straits of Le Maire, which separate Staten Land from
Terra del Fuego, and, by "hugging the land," escape some of the severe blows
so prevalent in that region. He having been on several exploring expeditions
in those waters, I experienced a degree of security I should not otherwise
have felt in approaching so near to huge and jagged rocks, that for ages had
reared their frowning heads, as if in defiance of old ocean's roar. We
passed the veritable Cape Horn (situated on Hermit Island) in such close
proximity, one could distinctly discern the barren soil. While I stood
gazing at the conical
mount, said the captain, "You have now seen what many an old navigator in
these waters never beheld, they keep so far south." I assured him one sight
was sufficient for a life-time; that the remembrance of the wildness and
grandeur of that ocean scene would never be obliterated from the pages of
memory.
That night, it came on to blow tremendously. Next morning, we found
ourselves eighty miles from land, and, horror of horrors, the ship on fire!
My heart refused to give credence to the startling report, until my eyes
beheld it. Our worst fears were too soon confirmed by the flames darting
upwards, and igniting the hatch the men were vainly endeavoring to caulk;
for fear had paralyzed their faculties. When that burnt and fell in, the
flames shot upward almost to the top-mast-head. The combustible nature of
the cargo caused the fire to increase with wonderful rapidity. The long-boat
was launched, and I was placed therein, with my pet-goat; for I would not
leave her behind: the other I had given to Myrtie. After several ineffectual
attempts to get at some bread and water, the fire and smoke drove them all
in confusion to the boat. They pulled off a short distance, and we gazed in
sadness and silence upon what was so recently our happy home, now a burning
wreck. The calmness of despair pervaded my whole being: all was comprehended
at a glance,--eighty miles from land, and that an inhospitable coast,
inhabited only by savages; without bread or water; in an open boat, exposed
to the inclemency of Cape Horn weather! People on the land, seated by their
pleasant firesides, imagine they can understand our feelings at that time;
but it is impossible. Even when danger, in its most appalling form,
threatens on the land, there is generally some avenue of escape open. But at
sea, with nought but a frail plank between you and a watery grave,--and that
so fragile, one dash of those mighty waves might annihilate it,--oh, the
horror of such a situation can never be conceived!
All at once, the joyful cry of "Sail, ho!" was shouted from our midst; and,
far away, I could descry a speck upon the ocean. Nearer and nearer it came,
until, when within about a mile of us, she "hove to," and lowered away a
boat, which came bounding over the water to our relief. This ship proved to
be the Symmetry, of Liverpool, Captain Thompson, bound to Acapulco, and
laden with coal. How that word rang in my ears! It seemed to me every ship
that floated was coal-laden. We repaired at once on board the Symmetry.
Capt. McKenzie requested, as a favor, that Capt. Thompson would "lay by"
until the Humayoon was burned down. Now that we could view her from a place
of safety, it was a scene to rivet the attention of all beholders. Flying
about, at the mercy of the wind and waves, the flames bursting out her sides
(the liquor was stowed aft) and stern, the blue flames wreathed and flashed
higher and higher. Soon the main and mizen-mast began to totter: they swayed
to and fro for about ten minutes, when they fell with a crash over the side.
Soon the fore-mast fell; and all that remained of the fine ship Humayoon lay
a burning mass upon the water.
Captain Thompson now made sail, and soon the remains of that noble ship
which, only twelve days previously, had borne us from our island retreat,
was obscured from our view. Her commander dropped a tear to her memory, and
retired in silence to the cabin.
Captain Thompson was accompanied by his wife and family. I was pleased at
the idea of enjoying for a season, however brief, the society of a female
friend. Capt. Thompson had previously informed us that our stay on board the
Symmetry must of necessity be prolonged no farther than such a time as he
could speak some ship. His inability to accommodate us longer than was
actually necessary was owing to a scarcity of provisions, his own ship's
crew being then on an allowance. He had been seven months from Liverpool. He
had put into Rio on the way, where, on account of severe indisposition, he
had remained several weeks. While there, his crew had nearly all deserted
him. When ready for sea, he shipped any he could get; and a sorry set he
had. Part of them had mutinied, and were confined; and the other half
carried the principles of revolt, too apparent to be mistaken, in their dark
countenances.
Night had now spread its sable mantle over the world of waters; the bright
constellations were reflected in the deep; and the noble ship, with majestic
and graceful motion, was cleaving a pathway for herself through the rapidly
heaving billows. My thoughts, as my eyes wandered over the waste of waters,
were busy with the past and present,--for the future I could only hope. But
a few months had intervened since leaving Baltimore; and yet how much
intense anxiety, actual suffering, and harrowing suspense, were crowded into
that short space! One day on board a burning ship, with no hope of escape;
then a port of safety in view; then on board another ship, with every
prospect of a speedy termination of our eventful voyage; then, again,
assailed by fire, and obliged to seek safety in an open boat, far from land;
and then transferred to a place of temporary safety,--for what could we
expect but a recurrence of those awful scenes, while on board a coal-laden
ship? "What," thought I, "will be the end? Shall I ever be permitted to
reach in safety the land of my birth?" I dared not entertain a hope
seemingly so fallacious. As time progressed, I was often reminded, by
painful contrast, of the fleeting happiness enjoyed on board the Humayoon.
There a spirit of harmony and love seemed to pervade the whole ship's
company. The reverse of this at sea is disagreeable in the extreme; and the
truth of this assertion was never more clearly demonstrated than on board
the Symmetry. In lieu of heart-stirring songs and happy faces, gloomy
frowns, and curses "not loud but deep," met the ear at every turn; anarchy
and discord went hand in hand. Daily I scanned the ocean in search of a
sail, anticipating a happy change, yet dreading what I most desired; for had
not experience taught me that whatever we most earnestly desire, when
attained, often proves the source of the keenest misery? At the expiration
of thirteen days, the anxiously expected sail appeared. Mentally I prayed it
might be an American; for with my own countrymen there exists a congruity of
thought and feeling which renders their society more congenial. As she
neared us, we perceived, to our great joy, that she was a large American
ship. In answer to Captain Thompson's signal, she hove to. He then sent a
boat to ascertain if we could be transferred to her. She proved to be the
Fanchon, of Newburyport, Captain Lunt, bound to San Francisco, laden with
coal, which she took in at Baltimore. We became acquainted with Captain Lunt
while at Baltimore. The Nonantum had sailed three weeks in advance of the
Fanchon. The Nonantum had gone to her last resting-place; and here, on the
broad Pacific, we met the Fanchon, in all her pristine architectural beauty,
unharmed, and yet laden with Cumberland coal. Upon Capt. Lunt learning that
we were on board the Symmetry, he came with all possible haste in his own
boat to convey us to the Fanchon.
In the interim, Captain McKenzie had effected a compromise with Captain
Thompson, to the effect that he would sail as near to the port of Valparaiso
as would render it safe and feasible for Captain McKenzie and crew to embark
in their long-boat, and arrive at their destined port. How well they
succeeded, future events will promulgate.
 I
should judge, the two ships lay about a mile apart. Soon after we welcomed
Captain Lunt on board the Symmetry, the heavens became suddenly overcast;
and, as appearances betokened a squall, it was thought advisable for me to
depart instantly with Captain Lunt; while my husband should collect what
effects we had preserved from the Humayoon and my goat, and come in the
ship's boat. Thinking and hoping we should reach the Fanchon before the
squall struck, they watched us with intense anxiety from the ships. When
little more than mid-way between the ships, it came. Drenched with spray,
and clinging to my seat, I dared not express my terror other than by looks.
"Do not be alarmed," said Capt. Lunt. "There is no danger to be apprehended.
We shall soon reach the Fanchon; and, when once on her deck, all trouble and
danger will flee away." By such cheering words, he endeavored to divert my
thoughts from our by no means enviable situation. My heart almost ceased its
pulsations as we bounded over the white-crested billows. How intently were
we watched by those on board the Symmetry! When we would disappear from
their view in the trough of the sea, Mrs. Thompson would exclaim, "They are
gone! they are lost!" and, when we appeared on the top of some mighty wave,
would the fervent exclamation, "Thank God, they are safe!" ascend from every
heart. By some mischance or other, in attempting to get alongside, we were
swept towards the ship's stern. She was plunging and rolling terribly. "My
God, we are under the stern!" was the hasty ejaculation borne to my ears;
and there, towering high above us over our frail boat, was the noble ship,
threatening instant destruction. It was but momentary. By almost superhuman
exertion, the boat's crew succeeded in placing our frail bark beyond the
reach of imminent danger; and, as the ship dashed down into the bosom of her
native element, we were beyond her reach, but not far enough to escape the
tumultuous dashing of the waters, which for an instant caused me to doubt my
being in the boat. The second attempt to reach her side was crowned with
success. A rope was thrown from the ship, which was caught by those in the
boat. It required the united exertions of all to keep the boat from being
dashed to pieces against the ship's side. It seemed almost an impossibility
for me to ascend the side of the ship unassisted; but so I must go, if I
went at all, and that right speedily. I could scarcely retain an upright
position in the boat; and yet, as the ship rolled towards us, my
instructions were to jump and catch the man-ropes, and cling hold until she
careened the other way, and then to climb the steps as quickly as possible.
The water was boiling and surging between the ship and the boat in such a
manner as to intimidate a much larger female than myself. Captain Lunt was
to give the word when to jump; and, when "Now is your time! now is your
time!" came thundering in my ears, all my innate fortitude deserted me; I
was powerless to move. Captain Lunt, rightly conjecturing that, unless moved
by some sudden impulse of resentment, I should never gain the deck, looked
and spoke his feelings of disapproval so palpably, (he afterwards assured me
it cost him no small effort to conceal his genuine feelings,) that I felt
would make an attempt, "live or die, sink or swim." When next the word was
given, it was promptly obeyed. I jumped, caught one of the ropes with both
hands, and clung with the tenacity of one whose only hope of preservation
depended upon a firm grasp. I was all the time cheered by the cry of "Hold
on; you are safe!" In a moment I had clasped the other rope, ascended the
steps, and was placed upon deck by the mate.
I could recollect nothing more distinctly, until I found myself in a
beautiful cabin, attended by an old man, judging from his silvered locks;
yet his fresh and healthy appearance gave evidence that, although "Father
Time" had whitened his hair, he had made but few inroads upon a healthy
constitution. He was the steward--an old and devoted servant to the captain,
in whose employ he had been for seventeen years. He was a native of England.
His words of consolation to me were, "God bless your dear little heart!"
accompanied by a pat on my shoulder; "may you never be in such a situation
again. Lord bless you! The sight of one of my girls in a like situation
would well-nigh break my heart." Soon my husband arrived in safety. Captain
Lunt made sail, and, long before the shades of evening descended, the
Symmetry was scarcely discernible. The Fanchon was far her superior, as
regarded sailing qualities and symmetrical proportions. All the symmetry the
other could boast of lay in the name. I wished her success, and a safe
arrival at her destined port. She had been my home for thirteen days; and,
although there were many disagreeable incidents connected with our stay on
board, yet she had appeared to render assistance, when our hopes were at the
lowest ebb.
Under these considerations. I bade her adieu as an old friend. The cupidity
of her captain may be illustrated by the fact of his presenting a bill of
one hundred and fifty dollars to my husband, as he was about leaving the
ship. There was no alternative but to pay it, situated as we were. For this
mean act he was published. The news reached the ear of his employer, who
quickly refunded the amount, and also discharged him from his employ. Once
again we met the Symmetry, before the termination of this
never-to-be-forgotten voyage. When and where, time and future pages will
explain.
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CHAPTER VII
OUR home on board the Fanchon was all the
most fastidious could desire. Captain Lunt was possessed of all those
gentlemanly attributes which are calculated to win the possessor friends,
and respect from all with whom he associates. Ever joyous and light-hearted,
the salutary effects produced by the exercise of these excellent properties
seemed to pervade the hearts of all subject to his control. He also being a
judicious disciplinarian, the greatest neatness and order imaginable
prevailed throughout the ship. Our fancied security--our sanguine
expectations that our troubles from fire at sea were at an end--our hopes of
a safe and speedy termination of our voyage--all these heart-cheering
feelings were sustained and strengthened by reiterated assurances from
Captain Lunt that there was no danger whatever of the Fanchon's burning, she
was so well ventilated. In fact, he attributed the destruction of the other
ships to want of proper ventilation. Besides, he argued, that if there had
been the least probability of its taking fire, it would have done so long
ago. We all conceded his arguments were decidedly conclusive; and, for a few
days, anxiety, fear, suspense, and all the attendant train of harrowing
reflections, were strangers to my bosom. But as frail and fleeting as are
all the evanescent joys of earth were my hopes. On the 25th of December, in
the evening, as we sat conversing of the day, and the manner in which they
were celebrating it at our far distant homes, and vainly wishing that, by
another Christmas, our places in the family circle would not be vacant, a
puff of air was wafted into the cabin, so strongly impregnated with gas as
to render the conviction certain in my mind, that the coal was on fire. I
speedily gave utterance to my fears, which met with a responsive "Pshaw! you
have inhaled and smelt gas so often, it has become accessory to your very
being."
They failed, however, in eradicating from my mind the impression that the
coal was on fire. Upon retiring for the night, the thought of being, for the
third time, on board a burning ship, so harassed me as to completely banish
slumber from my pillow. Next morning, the captain instituted a search
throughout the ship, which proved, beyond a doubt in his mind, there could
be no fire. We were now about twelve hundred miles from land, with a fair
wind, on the direct course for San Francisco.
Things remained in this state for two or three days. I cannot affirm that
the minds of all were perfectly free from apprehension; yet, as strict watch
was kept, and nothing except that disagreeable smell of gas was apparent to
confirm my fears, I felt a little more at rest. The third day, as Capt. Lunt
was watching one of the large ventilators on deck, he saw something having
the appearance of smoke escaping therefrom. He sprang down between
decks--there was no appearance of smoke or fire whatever; raised the lower
hatch--all appeared as usual. He then ordered the second mate to dig down
into the coal, and soon proofs beyond a doubt were too apparent. The coal
was so hot, it could not be taken in the hand. The whole body of coal, two
or three feet below the surface, was red hot. The same preparations for a
life on board a burning ship were again repeated that it had been my fortune
twice previously to witness. In this instance, we had not to contend with
the elements of wind and water as well as fire, for the ocean, at times, was
as smooth and transparent as a glass. For a time, Captain Lunt shaped his
course for the Galapagos Islands, what wind there was being favorable to
waft us in that direction; and, our distance from the islands and the
main-land being nearly equal, he was undecided for some time which port
would be our destination. Being within the tropics, the weather was
exceedingly pleasant--almost too much so for our benefit.
For several days in succession, it would remain perfectly calm. The nights
were beautifully serene; not a cloud, or the slightest film of vapor,
appeared on the face of the deep blue canopy of the heavens. The moon, and
countless starry host of the firmament, exhibited their lustrous splendor in
a perfection of brilliancy unknown to the night-watchers in the humid
regions of the Atlantic. The ship would be lying listlessly upon the surface
of the unbroken waste of waters, while our minds were constantly agitated
between hope and fear,--hope, that each morn, as the golden orb of day
appeared rising from old ocean's bosom, that, ere she bid us farewell at
eve, some welcome sail would come to the rescue; and fear, as each returning
day numbered disappointed hopes, and increased the heat on shipboard, that
we were indeed a doomed crew.
At night, signal-lights were kept burning, in the hope of attracting the
attention of some vessel which might be passing. For days look-outs were
stationed aloft, and more than once were our ears gladdened with the joyful
cry of "Sail, ho!" which as often proved a vain illusion. The strained
vision and anxious solicitude of those on the look-out caused them to
imagine they saw that which they vainly desired to behold.
I was induced, by the entreaties and advice of my husband, seconded by those
of Captain Lunt, to adopt gentlemen's apparel. Considering the danger and
exposure we might be subjected to, should we be compelled to remain any
length of time in the boats,--to which, unless relief arrived from some
other source, we should resort to soon,--it was not, everything considered,
a bad idea, which might never have been carried into effect had Capt. Lunt
been as large in stature as my husband. Accordingly, from the captain's
wardrobe was selected a pair of black pants, a green hunting-coat, black
satin vest, bosom, and collar worn a la Byron, and a purple velvet
smoking-cap. Arrayed in this garb, I was scarcely recognizable by my friends
on board. Days came and passed, and yet no relief appeared. Daily,
convincing proofs appeared to warn us of the slow but sure destruction of
the ship, in the form of gas and smoke, which were escaping through every
seam. The beautiful paint-work and gilding of the cabin assumed the darkest
hue; everything on board seemed shrouded in the sable habiliments of
mourning. Slowly and gradually we neared the land; and, after three weeks of
intense suspense and solicitude, the exulting cry of "Land, ho!" was echoed
far and near. It was an uninhabited part of the coast of Peru--a small bay,
or, rather, indenture made in at this place, called the Bay of Sechura. Into
this bay the ship was guided; and, when about two miles from shore, she was
brought to an anchor, at about four o'clock, P.M. As soon
as the wished-for haven appeared, I hastened to my state-room, and doffed my
male attire, supremely happy to exchange what I had so reluctantly adopted,
and what each succeeding day of usage rendered still more distasteful. Rest
assured, O ye of the opposite sex, that I, for one, will never attempt to
appropriate to myself the indispensables, or the love of lordly power which
usually accompanies them, but leave you in undisputed possession of your
rights!
Long before we reached our anchorage, the roaring of the surf, as it dashed
upon the lonely beach, sounded like a mournful dirge to our ears. There
appeared to be a short stretch of sandy beach, circumscribed by high and
jutting rocks. Around us, on either side, were innumerable breakers,
threatening destruction as we approached nearer; yet we heeded not our
dangerous proximity to sunken rocks, but the noble ship bounded gayly over
the waters, unmindful of the destiny awaiting the doomed.
In the distance could be discerned the Andes Mountains, rearing their lofty
heads in silent grandeur, and seeming to penetrate the blue dome of the
o'er-arching heavens. Immediately upon bringing the ship to an anchor,
preparations were made to effect a landing in the boats. Captain Lunt and my
husband deposited their nautical instruments and charts, and some few
articles of clothing, in a chest which they had rendered as nearly
waterproof as possible, and consigned it to one of the boats. We threw
overboard all the spare spars upon deck, and everything that would float. We
had no provisions or water to take on shore, and had been refreshed with
none through the day. There was one pig on board that had left Baltimore in
the ship, and one hen. These, together with my pet-goat, the sailors took
under their own immediate protection, and succeeded in landing them on the
beach. The pig, in the height of his terror, beat an instantaneous retreat
into one of the numerous caves, or recesses, situated at the base of
perpendicular cliffs, which rose nearly two hundred feet, and presented an
effectual barrier to any attempt that might be made to scale them. I
recollect distinctly my sensations on leaving the ship in a boat; how
intently I watched the foaming surf we were fast approaching, and which had
already engulfed the boat in advance; then an indistinct recollection of
roaring and splashing of water,--of voices heard above the din of all,
giving directions,--of being dragged, minus bonnet and shawl, through the
surf upon the sandy beach. Of my very unceremonious introduction within the
precincts of the province of Peru, I have no very pleasing recollections.
After removing everything off the ship's deck, they ran her still nearer in,
and scuttled her; but the fire had made such progress, it was impossible to
save her. In two hours after we left her deck, she burst out into a sheet of
flame. The fire caught to the sails, which were spread to the breeze, and
she was a sheet of fire to the mast-heads. Here, in this lonely bay, lay the
fine ship Fanchon, and burnt to the water's edge. Nothing could exceed the
almost awful profoundness of the solitude by which we were surrounded--a
silence broken only by the roaring and crackling of the flames, as they
wreathed and shot far upward, illuminating the midnight darkness, and
casting the reflection of their fiery glare far out over the lonely
deep,--and the deep roar of the eternally restless waves, as they dashed in
rapid succession upon the beach at our feet. It is quite impossible to
convey by language an adequate conception of the solemn magnificence of this
midnight scene. The burning ship in the foreground, the light from which
revealed the sublime altitude of the mountains in the background, whose
barren heads seemed to pierce the sky, every
object distinctly daguerreotyped; the rocks on either hand, laved for ages
by the white sea-foam; the bald and inaccessible cliffs in close proximity,
in the rear; and twenty-six human beings (myself numbering the only female)
standing upon the narrow beach, viewing silently the work of destruction,
rapidly progressing, which deprived us of a home, and the necessary
sustenance required to support life,--only a skilful artist, with his pencil
and brush, could do justice to the picture here drawn. By three o'clock that
night, nought remained to mark the spot--where, a few hours previous, lay
the gallant ship--but a smoking hulk.
I sank into an unquiet slumber superinduced by exhaustion, fairly cried
myself to sleep, and rested my weary limbs upon a couch of beach-sand. Next
morning, we discovered several rafts (or, as they are there denominated,
balsas) coming into the bay. They were covered with Indians--a sort of
mongrel race, who live principally upon their balsas, scarcely ever visiting
the shore except to procure water and potatoes. They subsist mostly upon raw
fish. They speak the Spanish language. They anchored their crafts outside
the surf, then dove into the water, and swam to the shore. They were nearly
in a state of nudity. Their demeanor was entirely pacific. They advanced
towards us with hands extended, in token of friendship. They had been
attracted to the spot by the light from the burning ship, and had assembled
in considerable numbers, doubtless in the hope of obtaining pillage, as they
rather demurred in rendering any assistance, unless stimulated by a promise
of compensation. For "mucha pesos," they agreed to furnish us with water and
sweet potatoes while we remained upon the beach. They peremptorily refused
to take us to Payta,--the nearest settlement, which was fifty miles
distant,--thinking, doubtless, it would be a more profitable speculation for
them to protract our stay upon the beach, until, at least, the "pesos" were
all gone. I was constrained to offer my pet-goat to them, in exchange for
water: she had long since ceased to furnish milk. Poor thing! after having
encountered so many fiery trials, she was but a wreck of her former self.
Much as I regretted to part with her, I felt it to be a duty I owed her, for
past favors received, to mitigate her woes as far as it lay in my power.
With a last, sad, lingering look at her mistress, and a despairing farewell
bleat, she was dragged away. The natives informed us we were fifteen leagues
from any fresh water; thereby giving us to understand that we were very
dependent mortals. They then departed, promising to come on the morrow with
a fresh supply. Their balsas are constructed of very buoyant, porous logs,
bound together in the form of a raft; then another layer, transverse the
former. In the center, it is raised still higher.
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Chapters Eight through Ten >> |
