The Castaways

by Harry Collingwood

Chapter Seven.

We pick up a shipwrecked crew.

The night passed without incident of any sort; and when I awoke at dawn there was still no sign of wind, for which I was thankful; for, while I was naturally anxious to be making some progress, it was vitally necessary to get more sail upon the brig; and this little spell of calm weather happened most opportunely for my purpose.

A bath, an early breakfast, and I went to work once more, the bending and setting, of the fore-topsail being my first job. I finished this about noon, and considered that I had done very well when at dusk I had added to my spread of canvas the standing jib and spanker.

It was a whim of Miss Onslow’s that our midday meal should be tiffin; dinner being reserved until the work of the day was over, when—as the young lady sagely remarked—we could both spare time to do due justice to the meal. Thus it happened, upon the day in question, that it was quite dark when at length, having washed and polished myself up after the labours of the day, I took my place at the table in the brig’s little cabin. It was then still flat calm; but we had scarcely finished the meal when a little draught of air came down through the open skylight, cool and refreshing, and at the same moment the sound of a faint rustling of the canvas reached our ears. I at once sprang up on deck, and found that a light air from about east-south-east had sprung up, taking us aback and giving the brig sternway. The pressure of water upon the rudder had forced the helm hard down, however, causing the brig to box off; I had nothing to do, therefore, but to trim sail and steady the helm at the proper moment, when the vessel gathered headway and began to move quietly through the water on a southerly course, close-hauled on the larboard tack.

I was now obliged to take the wheel; but it was not long before I made the discovery that, under the sail now set, the brig was practically steering herself, and by the time that I had been at the wheel half an hour I had contrived to hit off so accurately the exact amount of weather-helm required to keep the craft going “full-and-by,” that I was able to lash the wheel, and attend to other matters.

And there was still plenty awaiting my attention. Among other immediate demands upon my energies there was the boat to be secured; thus far she had been hanging on astern by her painter, but she was far too valuable a possession to be any longer neglected; and now that a breeze had sprung up I determined to secure her forthwith and while it was still possible to do so. The brig carried a pair, of davits on each quarter, so I hauled the boat up on the starboard side, made her fast, slipped down into her and hooked on the tackles, and then, climbing inboard once more, hauled them both hand-taut. Then, going forward, I brought aft a snatch-block that I had previously been using, led the falls, one after the other, through this to the winch, and, with Miss Onslow hanging on to the rope to prevent it slipping on the barrel of the winch, managed to hoist the boat and secure her.

The weather continued fine, and the wind light, all through the night, the ship’s speed being barely three knots; and once more I turned in on the wheel grating and slept soundly, the ship steering herself so perfectly that I found it quite unnecessary to interfere with the wheel; and when I awoke at sunrise she was still stealing along as steadily as ever.

The sky looked so beautifully fine and clear when I went below to breakfast, in response to Miss Onslow’s summons, that it came upon me quite as a shock to discover—as I did by a casual glance—that the mercury was falling; not much, but just enough to indicate that the breeze was going to freshen. Now, I had no objection whatever to the wind freshening—within certain limits; up to the point, say, where the brig could just comfortably carry the canvas that was now set—I was in a hurry to arrive somewhere, and, within the limits above named, I should have heartily welcomed an increase of wind. But the mischief was that when once the strength of the wind began to increase, there was no knowing how far it might go; it might go on increasing to the strength of a whole gale, in which case it would become necessary for me to shorten sail, unless I chose to accept the alternative of letting my canvas blow away. And even in so small a vessel as the brig, to shorten sail was a serious matter, when there happened to be only one person to undertake the work; yet, if it came on to blow, it would have to be done, since it would never do to let the sails blow away, so long, that is to say, as they could be saved by hard work. There was, however, time enough to think about that; there was a still more serious matter demanding my attention, namely, the getting rid of the water in the hold. To this task, accordingly, I addressed myself immediately after breakfast, first taking the precaution to most carefully sound the well. The result of this preliminary operation was so far reassuring that I found a depth of just three feet six inches of water, the merest trifle more than the rod had showed forty-eight hours before, thus demonstrating that the hull was once more practically as tight as a bottle. Thus encouraged, I got to work at the pump, working steadily and systematically, exerting my strength to the best advantage, and sparing my hands as far as possible by enwrapping the handle first in canvas and then in a strip of a blanket taken from one of the forecastle bunks. It was terribly back-breaking work—this steady toil at the pumps, and when midday arrived and I knocked off to get a meridian altitude of the sun, wherefrom to compute our latitude, I was pretty well exhausted; but I had my reward in the discovery that I had reduced the depth of water in the hold by nearly eight inches—thus showing that, after all, the quantity of water was not nearly so formidable as it had at first seemed, existing indeed only in the more or less inconsiderable spaces not occupied by the cargo. After tiffin I again went to work, and toiled steadily on until sunset, by which time I had reduced the depth by a further six inches, at the same time fatiguing myself to the point of exhaustion.