342 



DEPARTURE — DEATH OF PATTERSON. [1829 



hundred and seventy-two tons, constructed of the best materials, and 

 finished in a superior manner, with which her rigging and equipments 

 corresponded. I feel no hesitation in adding, that a finer vessel of her 

 class never ploughed the ocean. I think she would outsail any vessel 

 belonging to the port of New- York, on a wind, in rough weather, or in 

 turning to windward. 



At her earnest and unceasing solicitation I was accompanied by my 

 wife, on this long, perilous, and in many respects disastrous voyage, 

 having previously committed our little boy to the protecting care of his 

 affectionate grand-parents. We embarked on Wednesday, the 2d day 

 of September, 1829, at 11, A. M., and took our departure from Sandy 

 Hook light at about 7 o'clock, the same evening — the light bearing west- 

 north-west, distant three leagues. We steered to the south-east, with 

 a moderate breeze from south-west, and fair weather, running past 

 every thing standing in the same direction. 



Sept. 4th. — On Friday, the 4th, we were in lat. 38° 57' north, long. 

 66° 44' west ; and continued our passage to the eastward, with con- 

 trary winds a great part of the time, for more than three weeks. Our 

 first point of destination was Bonavista, one of the Cape Verd Islands, 

 where we were to touch for salt. 



Sept. 28th. — On Friday, the 28th, we took the north-east trade- 

 winds, in lat. 32° 17' north, long. 26° 11' west, wind from north-east- 

 by-north, and fair weather. We continued on our passage with a fine 

 breeze, occasionally seeing sperm-whales, porpoises, dolphins, skip- 

 jacks, sharks, and pilot-fish. We caught several porpoises and skip- 

 jacks, and one large shark ; thus giving the lady an opportunity of con- 

 templating these tenants of the mighty deep, when drawn from their 

 native element. The shark was of formidable dimensions, measuring 

 fourteen feet in length. But the spectacle in which she evinced the 

 most thrilling interest was that of a dying dolphin, when writhing in 

 the last agonies, while his scales reflected all the richest tints of the 

 rainbow. Though familiar with Falconer's beautiful description, she 

 thought the reality even more beautiful than that accomplished seaman's 

 poetry. 



"What radiant changes strike the astonished sight ! 

 What glowing hues of mingled shade and light ! 

 Not equal beauties gild the lucid west, 

 With parting beams all o'er profusely dress'd. 

 Not lovelier colours paint the vernal dawn, 

 When orient dews impearl the enamelled lawn, 

 Than from his sides in bright suffusion flow, 

 That now with gold imperial seem to glow , 

 Now in pellucid sapphires meet the view, 

 And emulate the soft celestial hue; 

 Now beam a flaming crimson to the eye ; 

 And now assume the purple's deeper die." 



Sept. 20th. — On Wednesday, the 30th, one of our oldest and most 

 experienced seamen was seized with an apoplectic fit, and expired at 

 2, P. M., aged sixty-five years. His name was Francis Patterson, an 

 Englishman by birth ; a veteran tar, who had followed the seas for 

 fifty-five years, and had been in many of the naval engagements of 

 Great Britain. He was as taut and as honourable a seaman as ever 

 put two ends of a rope together ; a fine specimen of British tars of 



