On the 22d, the rain abated and the weather began to clear up, but the wind continued steadily blowing from the east, which kept us in the same spot. Nothing interrupted the uniformity of our mode of living, which we beguiled by reading the newspapers that we received from the city, and looking at vessels coming from England, running into port before the wind. One of these vessels had one hundred and forty Irish emigrants on board. The James Cropper, a ship belonging to the line, had sailed on the 16th ultimo from Liverpool. Two days previous, the Silas Richards, another of the same line, had also arrived, which left Liverpool on the 24th ult. In one of the New York papers, we found a letter from the master of this vessel, in which he stated, that he had seen the celebrated sea serpent, not far from the American coast.
During the 23d of June, we still remained becalmed; the weather was cloudy and rainy throughout the whole day. Mr. Hottinguer, who likewise began to feel the effects of ennui on board his vessel, paid me a visit, took a luncheon and dined with us, and passed the greater part of the day in our company. When in the evening he returned to the Edward Quesnell, I accompanied him, and made a short visit to my half despairing acquaintances. One of our boats had gone towards land upon a fishing excursion, and came back loaded with a rich collection of various kinds of fish: flounders, bluefish, and herrings in abundance; clams, crabs beautifully coloured with blue and red; large sea-shells of extraordinary form, several bass and a small fish, with a brown back, resembling a toad, with a thick white belly, which it fills with air to such a degree, that the whole fish has the appearance of a ball, three-fourths of it are white, and one-fourth forming the back, brown. When this fish is caught and dies, the air gradually escapes from it, and it ultimately assumes the form of an empty bladder.
At last, on the 24th, the weather became somewhat clear and the wind came round favourably for us. At noon the anchor was weighed and we spread our sails. A number of vessels, desirous to avail themselves of the fair wind, were coming down from New York and the quarantine ground. The line packet, John Wells, next in rotation to the Pacific, made likewise its appearance from port, which was no doubt the principal cause of our hastily hoisting sail. I counted more than fifty vessels of all sizes, putting to sea. The wind in the beginning was so slight, that we could only move along with the ebb tide. We doubled the low cape of Sandy Hook; in the back ground we saw the light-house, surrounded by underwood, and in front of it, like two outposts, the two low stony beacons. Not far from the light-house, stands a half ruined block-house, in which during the last war a military post was stationed; it now answers as a landmark for mariners. In the rear of the high light-house, at a distance of several miles, towers the highland of Navesink, presenting a charming prospect. To the south one discovers the long and low coast of New Jersey, and perceives the sea-baths of Long Branch, which during the heat of summer are numerously visited by the fashionables of New York and Philadelphia. The heights of Staten Island with Fort Richmond are seen, to the right of them are the Narrows, and farther to the right the southernmost high coast of Long Island, gradually fading from the view. In the centre of the Narrows, Fort La Fayette stretches out, like a solitary point. As we put farther out to sea, we saw several buoys, which designated the shallows, through the midst of which the skilful pilot brought us safely. Two small vessels were employed in fishing up lost anchors. The pilot remarked, that the anchors of the French fleet under Admiral De Grasse, had remained here ever since the time of the American revolutionary war. This fleet owing to the unskilfullness of two pilots, was compelled to part with its anchors. When an enemy’s fleet blockades New York, the shipping make to Sandy Hook bay, properly called Raritan bay, for shelter against storms, and are thus enabled to blockade the Narrows very closely. Should a fleet wish to force the passage, it can, as I remarked last fall, neither be prevented from so doing by Fort Richmond, nor Fort La Fayette. In a conversation which I had with General Bernard, he stated, that he would prevent a close blockade by means of two strong casemated forts, which he would erect on the before-mentioned shallows, whereby the enemy would be perfectly excluded from Raritan bay. This project could not, however, be realised at that time, because the grant of funds by congress were to be appropriated to the completion of the works on the fortress already commenced.
In the afternoon, the pilot at length left us, and we found ourselves on the open sea. Although the wind blew very gently, still the sea, owing to the late storm, ran very high. The ship rolled dreadfully and many of our passengers were sea-sick. I also felt somewhat unwell, but my complaint did not produce vomiting.
During the 25th of June the wind not being favourable, we made but little progress. The weather was rather unpleasant, and the whole day clouded with a thick fog, almost as dense as that through which we made our way during last year on the banks of Newfoundland. Towards the afternoon the weather brightened up a little. We spoke two ships, the Camillus, of New York, from Greenock, in Scotland, with Scotch emigrants, bound to New York, and a small brig from New Brunswick, in ballast, to New York. A shark followed our ship for some time. It gave me particular pleasure to perceive what tranquillity reigned on board, that no swearing was to be heard, and that every thing tended to the comfort of the passengers.
During the night rain fell, and on the 26th of June we had likewise several showers. We perceived the Edward Quesnell astern of us, and set several additional sails that she might not reach us. The wind was not very favourable, and blowing from the south-east, it drove us into the neighbourhood of the perilous George’s bank, which we so carefully avoided last year. Therefore we changed our course and stood to the south. It became imperiously necessary this year to keep aloof from the bank of Newfoundland, because we had been assured that a great quantity of detached ice had come down from the north, and setting on the bank in the shape of bergs and fields of ice, had rendered the passage extremely dangerous. Several of our passengers, and I among the number, had not entirely recovered from the effects of sea-sickness.
On the 27th of June the wind had come round favourably to the west, so that we were enabled to hoist a larger quantity of canvass. In the forenoon there was a heavy swell, which made me sea-sick. While labouring under this unpleasant sensation, it is difficult to conceive how men can expose themselves to the dangers of the sea, while there is a comfortable house and quiet bed at home. But scarcely is it over, or scarcely have we put foot on shore before all these inconveniences are forgotten, and one thinks little of embarking again. The sea gradually became more still, the weather charmingly warm, and an awning was spread over a part of the deck, under which we collected, and even the ladies, who had slowly recovered from sea-sickness, joined us, to breathe the fresh air. In the evening, we were regaled with music; one of the steerage passengers blew tolerably well on the bugle, amused his companions therewith, and we listened to his strains at a distance. There was some musical talent among ourselves; a young Scotch gentleman from Jamaica, named Leslie, played elegantly on the flute, and often delighted us. Several water birds followed our ship; it is a species of bird resembling a swallow, called petrel, and termed mother Carey’s chickens by sailors, who say that they never alight upon land, and as their nests are not readily found, it is hard to tell where they propagate. A large vessel, which we supposed to be either the Edward Quesnell or the John Wells, followed constantly in our wake; but our heavy press of sail kept us always in advance. It is a matter of surprise, how such a large quantity of sail can be managed by so few hands, for we had but fifteen sailors and two boys; however, the steerage passengers were obliged to lend a hand to the manœuvres on deck; there were thirteen of these on board; they are similar to the deck passengers in the steam-boats; they pay but little, provide their own provisions, and are narrowly lodged in a small place below decks, near the fore-mast, and are not allowed, unless when working, to show themselves abaft the mainmast, inasmuch as this place is solely reserved for the cabin passengers. On board our vessel, the sailors slept in quarters provided for them on the deck, between the fore-mast and the bowsprit.
During the whole of the 28th of June we were favoured with a prosperous breeze and fine weather. Our situation was, by a midday observation, 40° 3´ latitude, and 65° 4´ longitude. Since yesterday we had seen grass floating close to the ship. Thence we concluded that we had already entered the favouring Gulf Stream. The awning was again spread. Mrs. Cabell and Miss Marx, who had recovered by degrees from their indisposition, presented themselves to-day upon deck, and made a considerable change in the tedious uniformity of our late mode of living. In the evening Mr. Leslie brought his flute, and delighted us with music; finally, we began to dance on deck, although from the motion of the ship it did not succeed well.
On the 29th of June, both wind and weather continued favourable to us; otherwise things remained as before. Captain Croker, who did every thing in his power to entertain his passengers, set off in the evening a couple of rockets, and other fire-works, which afforded us much pleasure. Mr. Croker, who is very experienced in a seafaring life, related us many of his adventures on the deep, which we found very interesting. We twice perceived swarms of flying fish arise from the water, which after flying a considerable distance, plunged anew into their native element; they did not, however, come sufficiently near to enable us to observe them distinctly. A large dolphin likewise made its appearance, and we were still escorted by mother Carey’s chickens, and saw numerous sea-gulls.
On the 30th of June no change; wind favourable, weather fine and clear, and a curiosity in natural history! We generally kept a pair of hooks in our wake. One of these hooks had caught a mollusc which goes by the name of Portuguese man-of-war. It is of a violet colour, and has a spongy body with long feelers and two bladders, the largest of which is about the size of a carp. This bladder the animal fills with air at pleasure, in order to enable itself to swim, and when the sun shines upon it, it displays very fine colours. Otherwise we caught nothing, as heretofore, because fish most generally avoid copper-bottomed vessels, such as ours. In the evening we saw in the ship’s wake the phosphoric sealight.