ViJ HISTOBY AND METHODS OF THE FISHERIES. 



managed to get the halyards clear and let them go by the run. This reduced the sail considerably, 

 and the first fury of the squall being past the schooner shook some of the water off her deck, and 

 though she was still running at an appalling rate she kept afloat until we could shorten sail still 

 more. 



While all this was happening, which tooii but a few moments, finding I could not clear the 

 throat-halyards and, execrating the "peddler" who had made them fast, I jumped to the com- 

 panion-way and sung out to the men below, " Jump up here, boys! Jump for your lives, and let's 

 get the sail off of her! " Up they rushed, and we soon had the mainsail and jib down, and, under 

 her foresail, the Marion once more rose buoyantly over the waves. We double reefed the mainsail 

 and took the bonnet out of the jib and put them on her again, determined, of course, to make all 

 we could out of the fair wind. It was foggy at 8 a. m. At 10 o'clock the wind had hauled so far 

 to the westward that we could not head our course. At 11.30 a. in. the fog cleared off and the sun 

 came out, so that I got a meridian observation. Our latitude was 44 13' N. At 12.30 p. m. there 

 was a moderate breeze W. and we turned out the reefs and set all sail. At 5 p. m. the wind was 

 backing to the SW., and the barometer, which had been falling slowly since morning, then stood 

 on 29.50. At 6 p. m. there was a smart southerly breeze. At 8 o'clock the wind changed very 

 suddenly to W., and blew so heavily that we reefed fore and aft. Feeling very much fatigued I 

 turned in after everything was set in proper shape, having first told the watch to pass along the 

 word for the men who came on watch later to keep their eyes peeled and if there was any change 

 in the wind, either in force or direction, or if it looked squally, to give me a call. "Ay, ay, sir," 

 was the answer down the companion-way; and taking off my oil clothes but leaving my boots on 

 and my sou'wester within reach of my hand, ready for a quick jump on deck, I crawled wearily 

 into my bunk to get the rest I so much stood in need of, as I had got only one hour's sleep in the 

 previous thirty-nine. 



Friday, March 15, 1878. "Say, skip! it looks wild and squally, too, to wind'ard," was the 

 call that awoke me at 1 a. m. I sprang out, all standing, and grabbing my sou'wester in one 

 hand as I went, I started for the companion-way to take a look at the weather. The watch had 

 already gone on deck, and was standing on the quarter, waiting for my decision. To windward 

 were heavy masses of dark, inky clouds, that appeared to be driven and whirled around by the 

 wind. "Rouse 'em out forward; and then stand by the foresheet!" I shouted to the watch, while I 

 dodged below to call the after crowd, and to get my oil-clothes on. The squall was not so bad as 

 it looked, but it blew strong, though we took in no sail, since the men were stationed at the sheets 

 and halyards ready to let them run if necessary. The wind at this time was W. by N., blowing 

 heavy, but towards morning it backed to W. and moderated some. At daylight we shook the 

 reefs out of the mainsail and foresail. During the forenoon the wind was quite moderate, and we 

 set the staysail. At noon the sky was overcast, as it had been all the first part of the day, pre- 

 cluding the possibility of getting any observations. Our position at noon by dead reckoning was 

 45 north latitude and 57 west longitude. We tacked at noon and stood to the southwest. The 

 wind at this time still continued moderate, notwithstanding the barometer was down to 29.55. At 

 2.30 p. m. the wind hauled to about north. It was moderate at first, but later it blew up fresh. We 

 sounded on the eastern part of Banquereau at 7 p. m. We took in the staysail at 8, and reefed the 

 mainsail at 11.30 p. m. The air at this time was growing cold, and the wind backing westerly, blow- 

 ing heavy with strong puffs. In the squalls the Marion had all she could do to stand up under her 

 canvas and she went surging along, through the choppy head sea, with her lee side buried, and 

 showers of spray flying over her bow almost to the top of her reefed mainsail. 



Saturday, March 16, 1878. At 5 a. m. the puffs came so heavy that we double reefed the 



