On the 30th October, her great rival the Lightning, which had sailed from Melbourne just three weeks behind her, hove in sight, and the two ships were in company for a week. The meeting of the two Black Ballers is joyfully recorded in the Lightning Gazette, as follows:—
Thursday, 30th October.—Lat. 29° 03′N., Long 33° 14′W. Distance 131 miles. Wind more easterly; 7 a.m. tacked ship to N.N.W. A large ship in sight went about at same time, ahead of us. During forenoon Captain Enright expressed himself confident that she was the James Baines. Great excitement and numerous conjectures, bets, etc. One thing certain, that she sailed almost as fast as ourselves, and her rigging and sails were similar to those of the Baines. By sunset we had both weathered and gained on our companion.
Friday, 31st October.—Lat. 30° 31′ N., Long. 35° 15′ W. Distance 137 miles. All night light airs, and early dawn showed us our friend much nearer. At 8 a.m., she at last responded to our signals by hoisting the “Black Ball” at the mizen! and a burgee at the gaff, with her name—James Baines! Great excitement spread throughout the ship, and the conversation was divided between sympathy for all on board our unfortunate predecessor and conjectures as to the cause of her detainment. All day we were watching her every movement; now she gains, now we near her; now she “comes up” and now “falls off.” About 2 p.m., we were evidently nearer than in the morning. A conversation a la Marryat. The Baines informed us that her passengers were all well, asked for our longitude, if any news, etc. Captain Enright invited Captain McDonald to dine, but he did not respond. At 5 a.m., still light airs, James Baines distant 1½ miles.
Saturday, 1st November.—Lat. 31° 12′ N., Long. 36° W. Distance 56 miles. During Friday evening, about 8 o’clock, the wind being still very light, we passed to windward of the unfortunate James Baines; so closely that we could hear the people on board cheering, and most vociferously did some of our passengers reply, with the addition of a profuse supply of chaff: such as amiable offers to take them in tow, a most commendable solicitude as to their stock of “lime juice,” very considerate promises to “say they were coming” on arrival at Liverpool, etc. All night the wind was light and baffling. At 2 a.m. it suddenly chopped round to the N.W., and the ship was put on the port tack. At 4, she was put about again. At 6.30, tacked ship to eastward, light airs and variable. The James Baines about 6 miles to leeward, a little brig on lee bow—which had been in company all Friday, and a barque on lee quarter. At 9, the brig, having put about, stood up towards us, and passing close to leeward, showed the Hambro ensign with private number 350. We once more tacked ship and stood to the northward and westward, the others following our example, and the breeze freshening, we all started on a race. The barque hoisted her ensign and number and proved to be the Cid, which we passed on the 29th ultimo. The brig soon after bore away to his “chum” to leeward, and they had a quiet little race to themselves, in which the barque appeared to be the victor.
The clipper sisters were now once more pitted against each other: the far famed Lightning, with concave lines and breadth of bilge, in our opinion the worthy Donald’s brightest idea, and the champion—the ship of 21 knots’ notoriety—the James Baines.
In light winds or airs we had crept by him, now, as the breeze freshens, as the white crest appears on the short toppling sea, as we lift and dive to the heavy northerly roll and all favours the long powerful ship. What do we behold? The little brig and barque going astern, of course. Aye, but what else do we see? Oh, ye Liverpool owners! et tu, Donald, who thought to improve on the Lightning; tell it not “on ’Change,” publish it not in the streets of Liverpool. What do we see? Hull down, courses and topsails below the horizon at 2 p.m., five hours from the start, the James Baines just discernible from the deck: at the very lowest computation we have beaten her at the rate of 1½ knots per hour. At sundown she is barely visible from the mizen topgallant crosstrees. It was generally supposed on board that her copper must have been much worn and rough or we never could have beaten so rapidly a ship of such noble appearance and well-known sailing qualities.
Sunday, 2nd November.—Lat. 32° 57′ N., Long. 37° 37′ W. Distance 134 miles. Another day of light winds, heading us off to N.N.W. still. Evening, a little more wind, ship going about 7 knots.
Monday, 3rd November.—Lat. 34° 41′ N., Long. 38° 28′ W. Distance 113 miles. In the middle watch wind backed to the N.E. and fell light again. At 8, improvement again and by noon we lay N.E. by N., the best we have done for some days, but only going from 4½ to 5 knots. A ship coming up astern, supposed to be the James Baines, bringing up a fair wind.