On board the Enterprise on the afternoon of February 3, 1803, the order was, "All hands to muster!"
"I want sixty-one men out of this ship's crew," said Decatur, "to leave to-morrow in the Intrepid, to help destroy the Philadelphia. Let each man who wants to go take two steps ahead."
With a cheer, every officer, every sailor, and even the smallest powder boys stepped forward. No wonder the young captain's fine face beamed with joy.
"A thousand thanks, my men," he said, and the tears came into his eyes; "I am sorry, but you can't all go. I will now choose the men I want to take with me." He picked out about sixty of the youngest and most active.
"Thankee, sir," said each man when his name was called.
Besides his own younger officers and his surgeon, Decatur took five young officers from the Constitution, and a Sicilian pilot named Catalano, who knew the harbor of Tripoli.
That same evening, the little ketch, with its crew of some seventy-five men, sailed out of the harbor of Syracuse amid three lusty cheers. The war brig Siren went with her.
In four days, the two vessels reached the harbor of Tripoli, but a bad storm drove them off shore. What a time they had for six days! The Intrepid was a poor affair at best, and there was no shelter from the fury and the cold of the storm. The sailors slept on the hard deck, nibbled what little ship bread was not water-soaked,—for they had lost all their bacon,—and caught rain water to drink. In cold, hunger, and wet, these men, like true American sailors, sang their songs, cracked their jokes, and kept up their courage.
After a week, the fury of the storm abated, the bright sunshine brought comfort, and the two vessels set sail for Tripoli.
As they drew near the coast, towards evening, the wind was so light that the Siren was almost becalmed. The Intrepid, however, met a light breeze, which sped her toward the rocky harbor.