Chapter Twenty Five.
Off in the Boats—The Storm—A fair Wind—A Council—They Steer for Islands—Land.
It was soon found that a lantern was not necessary to enable the second boat to follow that in which were the lieutenant and Hans. The singular and beautiful phosphorescent light caused by the dipping of the oars and the passage of the boat through the water was so brilliant, that even the faces of the crew were visible every now and then to each other, whilst a long star-spangled wake trailed behind the boats, and showed long after, where they had passed. To the sailors accustomed to traverse these regions there was nothing new in this sight, though they fully appreciated the advantages of it as a means of keeping a straight course, and of being able to follow the leading boat. To Hans and the Zulus it was a subject of wonder and admiration. The latter in some manner connected it with the burning ship, and seemed to consider that the latter had been the cause of the apparent fire in the water. The attention of the crews of both boats was, however, soon drawn to the brilliancy of the ocean by a shoal of porpoises, which, rushing along near the surface of the water, occasionally rolled half over as they took breath, and again pursued their pathless course.
“We shall have a wind against us before long, I fear,” said the lieutenant, “for those porpoises usually go up towards where the wind will blow from.”
“Can they feel the wind when in the water, and before it blows?” said Hans.
“I don’t know what they feel,” replied the lieutenant; “I only know that when they swim in calm weather in any direction, the wind usually comes from that direction in a few hours. Give way, men; we’ll near the coast as much as possible before a wind comes, and the current is strongest about ten miles off land.”
“What makes this current run down the coast?” inquired Hans. “Water won’t run up hill, at least on shore. Is it lower at the Cape than up by Natal?”
“Well I don’t know why it is exactly,” said the lieutenant; “but it has something to do with the trade winds. As long as I know where the current runs, I am satisfied; I don’t trouble myself about why it runs. Here comes a breeze, and right in our teeth. It must not blow too hard, or we shall have some difficulty in keeping our course.”
The sea, which had previously been as calm as a pond, soon became broken even with the slight breeze that was blowing. The wind and current being opposed to each other caused the waves to break more than they otherwise would have done, and seen from the small boat, these waves soon began to appear dangerously large. As the breeze gradually increased, it was found too dangerous to force the boat against the seas, and thus she was obliged to change her direction and go with them. Orders were given for the men to nail up some tarpaulin round the stem, and to sit close together, so as to keep out as much as possible any water that might otherwise come in as the seas broke over or near the boats. Men were also told off for baling, and thus every precaution was taken to prevent the boats from being swamped.
If the breeze did not freshen, there seemed every probability of the boats keeping afloat; but as a constant wind would for a time cause the seas to increase, the sailors became very anxious, and began to strain their eyes in all directions for the chance of catching sight of a ship or land. The course in which they were was not far out of that of homeward-bound vessels, or those which might be bound from India to the Cape, and thus there was a fair prospect of being picked up. Still the night was so dark that no vessel without lights could be seen, unless within a stone’s throw. Thus daylight was anxiously looked for.
The day at length dawned, and a beautiful fresh morning it was. A breeze which in a ship would have been only sufficient to fill all her sails, was to the small boats too much to be pleasant or safe. Still by the aid of repeated baling, they were kept comparatively free of water. No sign of a vessel, however, appeared, and it approached noon, when the lieutenant, arranging his sextant, prepared to find out where he was. After waiting several minutes, he was at length satisfied that he had obtained the sun’s meridian altitude, and having from this deduced the latitude, he announced that the boat was not more than thirty miles from land, though what part of the land she was opposite he could not exactly tell. “My chronometer is not a very trustworthy one, and this knocking about in the boat may have unsettled it; but if it is near right, I fancy we are actually west of the Cape; and this is possible, if the current has been very strong.”
During the day the breeze somewhat abated, and by sunset it was again nearly calm. The direction in which he was to steer was now a matter of considerable uncertainty to the lieutenant: whether he should place any trust in his chronometer, or steer according to what he believed his true course. Considering the rough use to which his chronometer had been subjected, he decided that he would steer a westerly course, keeping a little north, so as to make the Cape, and thus reach Simon’s Bay.
Soon after the sun had set, a breeze sprung up from the north-east, and this being nearly favourable, a small sail was set on each boat, and they by this aid dashed merrily onwards. For the first few hours of the night the wind was not too strong for the boats to carry a sail, but it afterwards came on to blow so hard that it was no longer possible to do so. The sea, however, was not, even with this breeze, nearly so dangerous as it had been when the wind and current had been opposed to each other; and though it was necessary to keep the boats before the wind, yet both were comparatively dry.
“If this wind lasts,” said the lieutenant to Hans, “we shall be carried far past the Cape, and how to regain it I don’t know, for we shall have the current dead against us, and we have neither water nor provisions for a long voyage. There is only one cask of water, and the biscuit is, I fear, wet with salt water, so that our provisions are short; but there is no help for us; we must go on as long as this wind and this sea last, and trust to being picked up, though I believe we may be three hundred miles from the Cape.”
During the whole of the night the boats kept a westerly course, and before the wind. As morning dawned, the horizon was anxiously scanned in order to find a ship, but the ocean seemed deserted, and mid-day came without any signs of a vessel. The officer again tried to find his latitude, and decided that he was still upwards of twenty miles south of the Cape. From an observation he had made in the morning, he also concluded that, allowing every likely error for the chronometer, he must yet be many degrees west of the Cape, and was drifting rapidly westward. Having come to this conclusion, he signalled for the second boat to come close alongside, when he said—
“Now, my lads, we have drifted so far from the Cape that I fear with these small boats, and such a sea as we may have to meet, we can’t reach the Cape before our provisions and water are all done. We have, then, two chances: we may hang about here, and take our chance of being picked up by a vessel, or we can run on with all speed, and try to make some islands which lie out westward. I’m not sure we can get water on those islands, but we may do so, and I believe they have no inhabitants. As this is a question you are all concerned in, I’ll hear what you have to say.”
The sailors talked among themselves for some minutes, and then Jones, who was in charge of the second boat, said—
“We think, sir, that we should make sail for the islands. We don’t lose our chance of sighting a ship by doing so, though it be a bit away from the outward-bound course; but if a gale comes up, we just go down in these cockle-shells, and that’s all about it. I have heerd from whalers that there is water in some of them islands, and any way we get a bit of a rest, and with our boats we can go out and look for ships when the weather suits. We think, sir, that’s our best chance.”
“I am of the same opinion,” said the lieutenant. “Has any one else any thing to say?”
“We all think that’s our best chance, sir,” said several of the men.
“Give way then, my lads,” said their officer. “We ought not to be more than two days reaching the islands. We have guns, and so ought to be able to get birds or seals; and if we can only find water, we may get on well.”
The north-east wind, which assumes almost the character of a trade wind off the Cape, and which blows sometimes for weeks together, continued steadily for the next two days; and the boats during part of the time being able to carry sail, made rapid progress through the water, so that on the morning of the third day all hands were eagerly on the look out for land.
It was about ten o’clock in the morning that Jones, in the second boat, called the lieutenant’s attention to what he thought was land about south-west of them. The telescope being used to discover what this was, revealed the fact of land, which was rather low, and was estimated at not more than ten miles’ distance. The boat’s course having been altered to enable them to make direct for this land or island, as it was known it must be, the lieutenant called to Jones to bring his boat close, in order to tell him what should be now done.
“I’ll take the lead, Jones, and we must have a man standing up in each boat to look out for broken water. I think it will be better to go to the leeward of the island, and land there, unless we can see some kind of a bay. Don’t you follow too close, for in case we strike a rock, or are swamped, you must be far enough off not to fall in the same way.”
“I’ve heerd, sir,” replied Jones, “that these islands are surrounded by long sea-weeds that make boat navigation rather difficult; but if you know where the channel is, then you are all right, as weeds and rocks don’t come near the surface there.”
As the boats neared the island, the lieutenant used his telescope in the endeavour to discover if any ships were there, for he believed it possible that whalers might have made use of this island, as afterwards he found had been the case. The wind seemed to have blown itself out towards mid-day, and shortly after it fell quite calm, and as the boats neared the island, the sea had considerably diminished.
Upon reaching within about a mile of the shore, the surface of the sea began to be sprinkled with sea-weed in abundance, which was some of it floating, and other portions evidently growing from the rocks beneath. Advancing slowly and cautiously, the lieutenant directed the man who was steering, and thus threading his way through thick masses of weed, approached sufficiently close to the shore to see where the surf was breaking. Having noted a headland jutting out into the sea, the sailor, from his knowledge of the general form of coasts, concluded that behind this he would very probably find a bay, and such proved to be the case. This bay was covered at the water-line with a white sand, up which the waves washed; but there seemed no sign of rocks near this, and thus it appeared in every way suitable for a landing. Steering the boat carefully round the promontory, the lieutenant made for this beach, and watching his opportunity ran the boat up, so that as the sailors jumped out, and seized her to haul her up, they were high and dry as the waves receded. The second boat, being thus guided, followed the example of the leader, and was also securely beached, the men jumping out, and being rejoiced to stretch their legs once more, after being cramped on board their small boats for so many days.