Under the Meteor Flag: Log of a Midshipman during the French Revolutionary War

by Harry Collingwood

At length, about the time of sunset, a sudden break appeared in the mass of cloud piled up to the north-westward, revealing a long narrow strip of fiery copper-coloured sky; and at the same instant the wind, which had hitherto blown in fitful gusts, died completely away.

“Here it comes!” was the exclamation which issued simultaneously from a dozen throats, as the eyes of the more watchful caught the glare of the tawny streak of sky away on our port beam; and even as we spoke the roar of the wind became apparent; and far away on the verge of the horizon we caught a glimpse of the whitening water, as it was lashed into foam by the first mad fury of the approaching squall.

“Port your helm! Hard over with it!” I exclaimed; “and stand by to brail up the mizzen if she fails to pay off.”

We had at the wheel one of the best helmsmen on board, a cool, smart, active topman; and, almost before the words were out of my mouth, he sent the wheel spinning hard over with a single jerk of his muscular arm, while Hardy mustered some three or four hands at the mizzen-brails.

The squall, however, furious as it was at its commencement, had spent its greatest strength before it reached us; and when it struck the “Vigilant” it came with merely sufficient force to lay her down to her bearings for a moment, when she gathered way, and, answering her helm at once, paid off before it, and began to surge away to leeward at the rate of about six knots.

The squall proved to be merely the precursor of a strong but steady gale from the north-west: and as soon as this became sufficiently apparent we hauled our wind once more and hove the craft to on the larboard tack under her jib and mizzen. This arrangement, while it promised to be the best that could be made for the safety of the ship and our own comfort, also enabled us to drift along at the rate of about three knots an hour on our proper course.

We found that under her short canvas the little “Vigilant,” with her flat and beamy build, sharp lines, and flaring bow, laid-to admirably, riding as lightly and almost as dry as a seagull over the mountainous sea which rapidly got up under the influence of the gale.

I remained on deck long enough to thoroughly satisfy myself upon this point, and then, leaving the deck in charge of Hardy (who had the watch), with one man to tend the wheel, and two others on the lookout, I sent the remainder of the hands below to get a good meal with plenty of strong hot coffee; while little Smellie and I sat down to our own almost equally humble spread in the small but cosy cabin.

The change from the cold wet sloppy deck, with its accompaniments of darkness, driving spray, and frequent rain-squalls, to the dry warm comfort of the cabin, lighted up with the brilliant rays of its single handsome swinging-lamp, its carpeted floor and well-cushioned lockers, was agreeable in the extreme; and the sound of the gale, as it roared overhead and shrieked through the rigging, the patter and drip of the rain on the deck, and the occasional heavy “swish” of the drenching spray-showers, served but to increase the feeling of comfort which we enjoyed. We spent some time, after the table was cleared, in consulting the chart, interspersed with frequent references to the book of sailing directions, and when we tired of these a book apiece served to wile away the time until midnight, when Smellie had to turn out once more and take charge of the deck. As the eight strokes upon the bell proclaimed the expiration of the first watch, we donned our oilskins and repaired to the deck in company.

The wind had been steadily increasing from the commencement of the gale, and was now blowing so heavily that every time the “Vigilant” rose upon the crest of a sea she careened almost gunwale-to, even with the scanty shred of canvas under which she was hove-to. The sea, moreover, had increased with as great rapidity as the wind, and was now running tremendously high, breaking from time to time in a manner which made me somewhat uneasy. Still, the little craft was behaving beautifully and making excellent weather of it; not a drop of anything heavier than spray having come on board her so far. The night was as dark as a wolf’s mouth, there being no moon, and the sky remaining obscured by an impenetrable canopy of heavy black cloud-vapour which was darkest about the horizon, against which the phosphorescent wave-crests reared themselves portentously in startling relief. The intense darkness was my greatest source of anxiety, for we were directly in the track of outward-bound ships, and the wind was blowing from a quarter which, while not exactly fair, was sufficiently free to enable them to keep going, and that too at a speed which would send a ship of any size right over us almost without her crew knowing anything about it. We had, of course, our lights in their places, and brightly burning; but we were so frequently hidden in the trough of the sea that a very bright lookout would be needed to discover us in time to avoid a collision, which was then, as it is now, the thing I most dread at sea—excepting fire. It seems needless to say that a bright lookout was kept on board the “Vigilant” that night; a man on each cat-head, two in the waist—one on the weather and one on the lee side—and our two selves aft were kept constantly on the alert; and with these precautions I was obliged to rest satisfied. As it happened, our elaborate precautions proved unnecessary, for not a single sail passed us during the night; and at four o’clock next morning, when the watch was relieved, I went below and turned in, as the sky appeared to be lightening up a trifle, and I knew that it would be daylight in a short time.