I went to the wheel with a young
fellow from the Kennebec, Jack Stewart, who was a good helmsman,
and for two hours we had our hands full. A few minutes showed us
that our monkey-jackets must come off; and, cold as it was, we
stood in our shirt-sleeves in a perspiration, and were glad enough
to have it eight bells, and the wheel relieved. We turned-in and
slept as well as we could, though the sea made a constant roar
under her bows, and washed over the forecastle like a small
cataract.
At four o'clock we were called again. The same sail was still on
the vessel, and the gale, if there was any change, had increased a
little. No attempt was made to take the studding-sail in; and,
indeed, it was too late now. If we had started anything toward
taking it in, either tack or halyards, it would have blown to
pieces, and carried something away with it. The only way now was
to let everything stand, and if the gale went down, well and good;
if not, something must go,-- the weakest stick or rope first,--
and then we could get it in. For more than an hour she was driven
on at such a rate that she seemed to crowd the sea into a heap
before her; and the water poured over the spritsail yard as it
would over a dam.
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