254 



SAIL FROM NEW-YORK. 



[1828. 



They called her the Antarctic in compliment to myself, I being the 

 only American shipmaster who had ever passed within that circle ; and 

 also with reference to the future probability of her penetrating still 

 farther towards the south pole. In fact, she was purposely adapted, 

 in size, model, strength, speed, and equipment, for hazardous adventure 

 and voyages of discovery. In twenty-two days from the time she was 

 launched, the Antarctic was completely finished and ready for sea, 

 being most liberally and bountifully supplied with every thing necessary 

 for a voyage to the southern and western coast of Africa, to procure a 

 cargo of the delicate furs, and such other articles of luxury as those 

 unexplored regions can furnish in unlimited profusion. I assumed the 

 command of the Antarctic on the 24th of June, 1828. 



June 25th. — On Wednesday, the 25th of June, I went on board, 

 at one, P. M., where I found the pilot lying off and on. We im- 

 mediately proceeded down the bay, with a light breeze from south- 

 south-west, and fair weather. At six, P. M., we discharged the pilot, 

 and at eight we took our departure from Sandy Hook light, bearing 

 north-west, distant five leagues, wind as before. I thus commenced 

 another voyage to distant regions, with a Jine new substantial vessel, 

 and a strong healthy crew of twenty-three active men, in whose faces 

 the love of enterprise and the hope of bettering their circumstances 

 had kindled the most animating smiles of cheerfulness. We were em- 

 barked on what was then expected to be a two-years' voyage on the 

 coast of Africa, in the South Seas, and in the South Pacific Ocean. 



But however animated and cheerful men may appear on such occa- 

 sions, could we look into the secret recesses of their bosoms, we should 

 there find some acute feelings of the most touching character. As their 

 native land recedes from view, and becomes finally lost in the distant 

 horizon, a feeling of desolation steals over the heart, which even the 

 most active duties will not immediately dissipate. Country, family, 

 friends, are all far behind ; while the thick veil which conceals the 

 future is impervious to every thing but the rays of hope. In all human 

 probability there are some individuals in every outward-bound ship's 

 company who have gazed upon their native land for the last time ; and 

 the heart of each instinctively asks, " Lord, is it I V But were we 

 even permitted to look so far into the future as to obtain satisfactory 

 assurance of our own safe return,^ another question would immediately 

 follow of an interest equally intense : What ties of affection will be 

 severed by death during our absence ? 



" For sailors, though they have their jokes, 

 Still feel and think like other folks." 



Many of my present crew were fine, active, noble-spirited young 

 men, of respectable families and connexions in the city of New- York 

 They duly felt and appreciated the tender ties of affection and kindred 

 They had parents, brothers, sisters, and some of them attachments of 

 a still more interesting character ; and when I caught their eager coun * 

 tenances turned to the fast-receding heights of Neversink, I respected 

 the sentiment too much to throw any unnecessary check across its 



