CHAPTER XXIV.
DEPARTURE FROM MUSCAT—ARRIVAL AT QUINTANGONY AND MOZAMBIQUE—EXPORTS FROM MOZAMBIQUE—IMPORTS—DEPARTURE FROM MOZAMBIQUE—ARRIVAL AT TABLE BAY—CAPE OF GOOD HOPE.
Our voyage from Muscat to Mozambique was not marked by any particular occurrence, excepting the death of a very young and valuable officer. The southwest monsoon having ended, we were in daily expectation of the advent of the northeast monsoon; but on the morning of the seventh of October, without waiting for a change of wind, as we were ready for sea, we weighed anchor again, in company with our consort, depending mostly upon the assistance of the current; for there was scarcely “a breath, the blue wave to curl.” As soon as the anchor was “apeek,” and the topsails sheeted home and hoisted up, eighteen guns were fired, as a parting salute to the hospitable sultan, (sooltaun,) which was returned with twenty-one. Not wishing to be behind-hand in an act of courtesy, three more were fired. The effect produced by the echo, among the serrated and cavernous rocks and mountains about the cove of Muscat, and the neighbouring hills, was surpassingly fine; loud, distinct, and repeated charges were heard, apparently, for the space of several minutes, until the reverberations died away, in faint echoes, among the distant hills in the southeast, west, and northwestern quarters. The winds were very light, from the southward and eastward, the first part of the passage, until we arrived in about 5° south, when it changed gradually to the northward and eastward, and continued so until we arrived at Mozambique. We had abundance of rain about the equator, accompanied by light squalls and calms; the currents setting generally to the southward and westward; they also set to the southward and eastward, and to the northward and eastward, due west, and to the northwest. A short distance to the northward and eastward of the island of Socotra, (Socotera,) it set in for three successive days, about 70° west, eighty-six miles, and for the seven successive days to the southward and westward, two hundred and sixty-five miles. The particulars of each day, I omit, as it can only interest the navigator; but what I have stated, will serve to show the absolute necessity of having firstrate chronometers, or the lunar observations carefully attended to; and never omitted to be taken when practicable. On our passage through the channel, we entered the small port Quintangony, seeing the Portuguese flag flying on a fort, mistaking it for Mozambique, as the bearings answered to its situation, and the table-land being north of it. We weighed anchor forthwith, and in two hours afterward, on the afternoon of the seventh of November, we discovered the island of St. George, which has a flag-staff and a small battery, and to the southward of it, the island of St. Jago; and at the same time the island of Mozambique, lying to the westward, distant about three miles, with its formidable castle and its neat white houses, appeared in view.
ARRIVAL AT MOZAMBIQUE.
Before the sun had sunk behind the forest of palm-trees, which clothe the mainland of Africa, we found ourselves snugly at anchor, in a fine harbour, surrounded by twenty or thirty coasting craft, and several large Brazilian and Lisbon vessels. The town presented the most respectable and pleasing appearance; our cares were lulled to rest, for the present, being most grateful to the Giver of all good, for having conducted us thus far in safety, though sickness and sorrow, anxiety and death, had caused sad havoc among us—making the ocean the grave and the winding-sheet of many a brave and worthy heart, although clothed with a rough exterior—leaving a sad chasm among companions and friends, among parents and wives, and poor fatherless children. The last death which took place among us, was that of a most worthy and excellent young man, Midshipman Lewis H. Roumfert of Mount Holly, Pennsylvania. Had he lived, he would have been an ornament to his profession, and a most useful member of society; but God willed it otherwise, and, therefore, we ought not to complain. A short distance to the eastward of the island of Socotra, in the Indian ocean, he was laid in his watery grave. The solemn and sublime service of the Protestant Episcopal church was read by our worthy surgeon, Dr. Ticknor; the main-topsail being aback, and the colours hoisted half-mast. The topsails being filled again, we left him, poor fellow, sinking down into an earthless grave:
“Down, down through waters fathomless,”
there to remain, until the last trump shall sound, and the sea shall disgorge its mighty dead.
We had scarcely dropped anchor, before an official visit was made by a lieutenant. A salute was fired in the morning, which was returned by an equal number of guns from the castle. The commandant of the castle, Juan Alexander de Almedia, and the acting-governor, was desirous of receiving us at the fort with military honours, and a message was sent to that effect, but which was declined; and at noon we landed, and were received by the commandant at the grand entrance, with a double file of soldiers with “present arms.” This noble fort was built by Juan de Castro, in 1518, and it is certainly, for the most part, in a fine state of preservation. It is called Santo Sebastiano, and it appears capable of resisting any force which probably will ever be sent against it, notwithstanding the honeycombed state of many of the iron cannon, and the very weak state of the garrison. It is of a quadrangular form, having an extensive bomb-proof citadel, capable of protecting all the inhabitants of the town, in case of a siege, with sufficient magazines for munitions of war and provisions.