United States or Caribbean Netherlands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
All the rails of the head, round houses, and figure of the head, were washed entirely away; and the rails to which the bumkins were secured were so much weakened as to require to be frapped down to the knee of the head; the jibboom, the sprit-sail-yard, and the fore-top-gallant mast were necessarily kept down upon deck to ease the bow-sprit, in case any of its securities should be in danger from the shattered condition of the cutwater.
Thus arrayed they no longer hesitated, but flung themselves lightly over the bulwarks, and were quickly frolicking about the decks. Many of them went forward, perching upon the head-rails or running out upon the bow-sprit, while others seated themselves upon the taffrail, or reclined at full length upon the boats.
With a rasping sound, clearly distinguished across the intervening water, as though every timber cried out in agony to the strain, the battered hulk slid downward, the deck breaking amidships as the stern splashed into the depths; then that also toppled over, leaving nothing above water except the blunt end of a broken bow-sprit, and a tangle of wreckage, tossed about on the crest of the waves.
At noon, just after dinner, a few cat's-paws curdled the milky-blue whiteness of the glassy surface, and the water once more began to talk beneath the bow-sprit. It was very hot. The sun spun silently like a spinning brass discus over the mainmast. On the fo'c'sle head the Chinamen were asleep or smoking opium. It was Charlie's watch. Kitchell dozed in his hammock in the shadow of the mainsheet.
The tapering bow-sprit of the 'Diana' pointed aloft as it were into a woven web of stars, and I lost myself in imaginary flight among those glittering unknown worlds, oblivious of my material surroundings, and forgetting that despite the splendid evidences of a governing Intelligence in the beauty and order of the Universe spread about them every day, my companions in the journey of pleasure we were undertaking together were actually destitute of all faith in God, and had less perception of the existing Divine than the humblest plant may possess that instinctively forces its way upward to the light.
There was no one to be seen on board, the spread of her canvas hid everything. Just as her bow-sprit pushed by the stern of the "Hoppergrass" something white stirred near the mast. Then two wings flapped, and there was a sound of "Quack! Quack! Quaa-a-a-a-ck!" At the same moment Captain Bannister poked his head under the sail and looked at us.
As Mulford used great caution, and had previously schooled Jack on the subject, this important point was successfully achieved. Then the mate put his helm down, and the boat shot up under the brig's lee-bow. Jack was ready to lay hold of one of the bow-sprit shrouds, and presently the boat was breasted up under the desired port, and secured in that position.
Many a front door had a figure-head carved in wood, as though that portal were the bow-sprit of the sailor's habitation, which, in all its details of architecture, of color and line, called up memories of life at sea. The village looked like a collection of grounded craft.
What made this circumstance the more wonderful, and indeed beyond all comprehension, was, that the violence of the shock was such that we lost our rudder, broke our bow-sprit in the middle, and split all our masts from top to bottom, two of which went by the board; a poor fellow, who was aloft, furling the main-sheet, was flung at least three leagues from the ship; but he fortunately saved his life by laying hold of the tail of a large sea-gull, who brought him back, and lodged him on the very spot from whence he was thrown.
The Fellow's Advice was approved and resolved upon, and the Sloop work'd, as he said she would, for upon coming near enough to make distinctly the Force of the Victoire, on her throwing out French Colours, she, the Sloop, clapp'd upon a Wind, the Victoire gave Chace, but without Hopes of gaining upon her; she went so well to Windward, that she cou'd spare the Ship some Points in her Sheet, and yet wrong her: At Dusk of the Even, the French had lost Sight of her, but about Eleven at Night, they saw her hankering up their Windward Bow, which confirmed the Sailors Opinion, that she would attempt to board them, as she did at the pretended Change of the Watch; there being little or no Wind, she lashed to the Bow-Sprit of the Victoire and enter'd her Men, who were very quietly taken, as they enter'd and tumbled down the Forehatch, where they were received by others, and bound without Noise, not one of the Privateers killed, few hurt, and only one Frenchman wounded.
Word Of The Day