Twenty years at sea: Leaves from my old log-books

by Frederic Stanhope Hill

But when the captain of the sloop saw what I was up to, he put his helm up, without hesitation, let draw his sheets, and drove his vessel through the light surf and high up on the beach. Then the crew at once abandoned the craft, and, running up over the sand hills, disappeared.

The officer in my boat, following sharp upon his chase, ran alongside the sloop, of which he took possession, and found her loaded with between forty and fifty bales of cotton. But, unfortunately, she had been beached at the very tiptop of high water; and as the tide soon after began to run ebb, it was very evident to Mr. Allen that his prize would soon be high and dry, so he returned to the ship for further orders.

That evening at high water I sent in three armed boats, with orders for one of them to lay outside the breakers and cover the landing party. The crews of the other two boats, under command of my executive officer, were directed to make every effort to get the sloop afloat, and for that purpose they were amply provided with hawsers, blocks and tackles, a kedge anchor, and such other paraphernalia as I deemed necessary for the proposed work.

The wind was light and there was a full moon, so that the conditions were very favorable for success. Mr. Bailey laid out the sloop’s anchor, backed with our kedge, brought the hawser to the sloop’s windlass, reinforced it with a heavy purchase, and got a heavy strain on the hawser with the aid of his twoscore men, who were working with all their heart, but not an inch would she budge. Her skipper had driven her up with all sail set, and she had made a bed for herself in the soft sand from which we could not possibly move her.

When the tide began to run ebb, Mr. Bailey decided to return to the ship and report progress—or rather the lack of it. I had been anxiously watching the operations from the ship, which I had anchored as near the beach as prudence permitted, and I was naturally annoyed at the want of success on the part of my people.

I presume my manner gave Mr. Bailey the impression that I attributed the failure to his insufficient effort, which was by no means the case, but I saw that he was very much dejected as he made his report.

The officers talked the matter over together in the wardroom that evening, as I learned later on, and the next morning Mr. Taylor, who was my favorite boat officer, came to me after quarters and asked, as a special favor, permission to go in with three picked boat’s crews that morning and, abandoning what seemed a well-nigh useless attempt to get the sloop afloat, to unload her and tow the cotton, worth twenty or twenty-five thousand dollars, off to the ship.

“I’ll guarantee to do it, captain,” said the plucky fellow. “I propose to take in two or three coils of inch rope in the boats and after getting the bales afloat I can lash them together so that we can tow them off to the ship in this smooth water with our three boats.”

“It will be very hard work, Mr. Taylor, even if you get the bales afloat through the surf, which is doubtful. And I don’t feel clear in my mind that it would be strictly in the line of duty. The sloop is ashore, and her blockade running can be put an end to for good and all by a match and a few pounds of powder, or we can knock her to pieces from the ship in target practice. Our men had a hard day’s work yesterday for nothing, and I don’t care to give them more of it.”

“I know that, sir; but the crew are just crazy to do it. I should only take volunteers, and there are twice as many ready to go as I require for the work.”