But an event occurred a few hours afterwards which might have been attended with more serious consequences. The ship was, during the day, surrounded by shore boats of all descriptions, containing Jews, sailors’ wives, and many other parties, who wished to have admittance on board. It was almost dusk, the tide was running strong flood, and the wind was very fresh, so that there was a good deal of sea. All the boats had been ordered to keep off by the first lieutenant, but they still lingered, in hope of getting on board.
I was looking over the stern, and perceived that the boat belonging to the bumboat woman, who was on board of the ship, was lying with her painter fast to the stern ladder; the waterman was in her, as well as one of the sailors’ wives, who had left her own wherry in hopes of getting on board when the waterman went alongside to take in the articles not sold, when the bumboat woman left the ship, which would be in a few minutes, as it was nearly gun-fire for sunset. The waterman, who thought it time to haul alongside, and wished to communicate with his employer on board, was climbing up by the stern ladder.
“That’s against orders, you know,” cried I to the man.
“Yes, sir; but it is so rough, that the boat would be swamped if it were to remain alongside long, and I hope you won’t order me down again; there’s some nice cakes in the boat, sir, just under the stern sheets, if you would like to have them, and think it worth while to go down for them.”
This was a bribe, and I replied, “No, I don’t want your cakes, but you may come up.”
The man thanked me, and walked forward as soon as he had gained the deck. On second thoughts, I determined that I would have the cakes; so I descended by the stern ladder, and desiring the woman who was left in the boat to haul upon the rope, contrived to get into the boat.
“What is it you want, my dear?” said the woman.
“I come for some of those cakes under the stern sheets,” replied I.
“Well, I’ll soon rummage them out,” said she, “and I hope you will let me slip on board when the boat is alongside. Mind, sir, how you step, you’ll smash all the pipes. Give me your hand. I’m an old sailor.”
“I should not think so,” replied I, looking at her. I could hardly make out her face, but her form was small, and, if an old sailor, she certainly was a very young woman.