The poor old fellow was so exhausted that, though he protested against the proposed arrangement, I could see he was glad enough to avail himself of it; and after a feeble attempt at remonstrance, he yielded to my persuasions, and turned in, and was quickly in a sound refreshing sleep.
Nothing further of importance occurred for several days to break the monotony of the voyage.
We continued to make good way to the southward, and ten days after crossing the line we lost the south-east trade-winds, and ran into a light southerly breeze. As we still had a very fair quantity of water on board, and indulged in good hopes of getting rain enough, shortly, to fill our tank up, without the necessity of putting in anywhere, and as the chances were very great that, as we got farther to the southward, we should meet with westerly winds, I determined to stand to the southward and westward, close-hauled, of course, on the port tack, so that should the wind come from the westward, as we expected, we should be in a good weatherly position; whilst, if we were disappointed in the matter of rain, we should have the land close aboard, and could run in and fill up.
The southerly wind lasted us a couple of days, and then veered gradually round to about south-west. As this broke us off considerably from our course, we hove the cutter about, and were then able to lie about south-and-by-east, a good rap full.
The wind now freshened considerably, and we had it stronger than at any time since leaving England, except in the gale in the Bay of Biscay, so that we were reduced to double-reefed mainsail, reefed foresail, and number three jib. Under this canvas the little Lily made very excellent weather of it, though the incessant showers of spray which she threw over herself necessitated the constant use of our macintoshes whilst on deck, and this we found extremely inconvenient, from their warmth.
However, as we had been wonderfully favoured in the matter of weather so far, we had no right to grumble if we were now treated to a few of the inconveniences of such a voyage as ours. Though still making very good way, we were not getting on so fast as we had been, our low canvas, and the heavy sea (for a craft of our size) which began to get up, not permitting us to do more than our seven knots.
Still, this was remarkably good work, and we ought to have been perfectly satisfied; but the little barkie had stepped out at such a rattling pace all the earlier part of the voyage, that we could not be contented with any reduction in speed.
This lasted for five days, and then, about one p.m., the wind suddenly dropped altogether, and left us tumbling helplessly about without even steerage-way. The sky had gradually become overcast, and the air suffocatingly close, and when I went below to look at the aneroid, I found it had gone back considerably.
This might mean only a thunderstorm, or it might mean something much worse, so we set to work to prepare for whatever might come. The mainsail was stowed and the cover put on, the foresail hauled down and unbent, and the trysail bent, reefed, and stowed, to be set or not, as circumstances might require.
As it turned out, it was only a thunderstorm, but it was a regular tropical one whilst it lasted. The rain came down in sheets, without a breath of wind; and we not only filled our tank, but also every available cask, can, and empty bottle we had on board, and as this was done long before the rain was over (though the thunderstorm soon passed off), Bob and I stripped, and enjoyed to our heart’s content the unwonted luxury of a wash from head to foot in the most deliciously soft water, after which we roused out our dirty clothes, and had a regular good washing-day.