FISHERMEN'S OWN BOOK. 181 



ment of a southeast storm, which rapidly augmented in fury. About 3 

 o'clock in the morning all hands were called to take in the staysail, after 

 which the dories were turned bottom up and lashed securely. This work 

 occupied about an hour, when all but myself and the watch went below. 

 The night was intensely dark, and all that it was possible to see was the 

 sparkle of the spray as it flew from the bow, and the luminous phosphores- 

 cent track behind our vessel, as, with her sheets well off, she rushed through 

 the waters and the darkness like a great black-winged spectre. A half hour 

 later I again called all hands : " Get on your oil clothes and stand by the 

 halyards," is the order. Hardly had this been done, when a squall struck 

 us almost with the force of a thunderbolt. Feeling the vessel settling, I 

 shouted to the man at the wheel, " Let her come to," and to his watch- 

 mate, "Let go the main-peak halyards." At the same time I sprang to the 

 main-throat halyards and tried to get them clear, but could not, owing to 

 the darkness, and the fact that they were not belayed as usual. In the 

 meantime our little vessel came near going to the bottom, for she was under 

 water from her cat-head to the taffrail, on the lee side. When the man at 

 the wheel first heard my order, he put the helm down, but, finding the ves- 

 sel was going so low, kept her off again (thinking that the safer thing to do), 

 at the same time climbing on top of the wheel-box to get out of the water. 

 His watch-mate, though floated off his feet on the lee side, let the peak hal- 

 yards go by the run. This reduced the sail considerably, and, the first fury 

 of the squall being past, the " old boat " shook off part of the water, and, 

 still running at an appalling rate, kept afloat until we could shorten sail 

 still more. 



On another occasion, in the Spring of 1876, while running for home in a 

 northeast gale, our vessel was " sprawled out " by heavy seas twice in one 

 day, being knocked down so that her sails were in the water, and the lee 

 side completely buried. The night preceding the day on which we were 

 knocked down we had a tussle with the ice, immense floes of which, in the 

 Spring of 1876, were driven by a succession of northerly winds nearly to 

 the edge of the Gulf Stream. We were running under a double-reefed 

 mainsail, whole foresail and jib (with the bonnet out) — all the sail we could 

 stagger under — when, a little after midnight, the watch shouted down the 

 companion-way : " Hear the news there below ! rouse out, here's ice close 

 aboard ! " It needed no second call to bring us out, for all realized the dan- 

 ger of meeting with ice while running at such a rate ; if the vessel struck a 

 heavy piece her bows would be crushed in like an egg shell. As for my- 

 self I hurried on deck in my shirt sleeves, and, jumping into the rigging, 

 climbed far enough above deck to get a good view, and clung there for 

 nearly two hours directing the wheelsman how to steer to avoid coming in 

 contact with either the floe or straggling pieces of ice. The latter, which 



