It is proper that I should say something here of the North Sea. In case you are driven about by strong contrary winds and cannot obtain the latitude, and, indeed, under any circumstances, you should use the deep lead frequently, for the depth is well shown on the chart, and often you cannot get sight of the land. The Flemish coast is the least dangerous, although the English is the most surveyed, because the water becomes shoal gradually. You may get into thirteen and fourteen fathoms of water. In the true channel it is twenty and twenty-two fathoms, and in the middle it is deeper, namely, twenty-six and twenty-eight and over, but it is somewhat more uneven. In approaching the English coast the shoals are more even, as twenty-six, eighteen, seventeen fathoms. To navigate the channel it is best to keep nearest the Flemish coast, because it affords a better course, and the current makes it easy to go north, and the sandbars such as the Galper, Wytingh, and Goyn,[65] are more to be avoided than the Flemish banks; and, moreover, close by the shore it is very deep, yet by the setting of the current to the north you may soon be upon them, that is, with an ebb tide.
2d, Sunday. Made fair progress during the night. We found ourselves in the morning before the point of Bevesier,[66] which I sketched. The wind was northerly with a cool air. About breakfast time a large English ship came up behind us, which we hailed. She was from London and bound for the Straits.[67] She had much sail on, and after passing us, set all she had; but not long afterwards a small breeze blowing off shore, she was compelled to begin to take in her topgallant-sails and upperstay-sails. This was scarcely half done when her maintop-mast and mizzentop-mast went by the board, and remained hanging on the side of the ship. The man who was taking in the topgallant-sail fell overboard. When this accident happened she was only a short distance ahead of us; and we, therefore, all ran forward to the forecastle to see whether there were any pieces of wood at our bow to damage us. We sailed by her, close under her lee, and saw somewhat of a crowd running about the ship. Finally they launched their jolly-boat for the purpose of looking after the man who had fallen overboard with the top-mast. Whether there were any more we did not know, and as we sailed ahead of them with considerable speed, we could not see whether they fished any one up or not; but the ship sailed before the wind the best she could, when her top-mast went overboard; we took in very quickly our own topgallant-sail, which we had set, but more from precaution than necessity. Shortly afterwards it was so calm that we merely drifted along; and being nearly midway between Bevesier and the Isle of Wight, and the ebb tide running out, we were compelled by the current to anchor about a mile from the shore.
About four o'clock in the afternoon Margaret came to me while I was engaged in sketching the Isle of Wight. We talked over various matters which were almost the same as those about which she had conversed with my companion the day before, and I therefore met her with the same objections.
3d, Monday. We did not advance any during the night, and had drifted along; but a breeze springing up we went ahead a little. It was very foggy, so that we could not see the land. It cleared up in the afternoon, when we found ourselves off against the Isle of Wight; but the wind subsiding, and the tide being spent, we ran for the point of the island, and came to anchor in ten or eleven fathoms near some other ships which were waiting there for a good wind and tide. The jolly-boat was launched and our Dutch mate and two other persons went ashore in order to see if they could obtain some fresh provisions. The tide having passed, and the wind shifting, we signalled to them to come on board again, which they did in the evening, when we were already almost under sail. They brought nothing with them, except a little milk which served us as a good refreshment for this evening. Sailing ahead, we steered above the point with the wind W.S.W., and so gained the open sea. There is a very strong current here, and hard beating along the shore and around the point. The current sent us ahead more than the wind. The coast is quite good and it is deep enough close up to the shore.
4th, Tuesday. We found ourselves in the morning opposite Wight with the wind S.S.E., and quite still. After a while there came up a breeze. We passed Peveril Point,[68] however, with the ebb. About noon a flute-ship[69] came near us which we hailed. She was from Amsterdam, bound to Cadiz. It was so calm in the evening that we drifted, and turned round several times. We perceived fifteen or eighteen large ships on the French coast, which saluted each other with many heavy guns. The ebb being spent, we came to anchor again in twenty-one fathoms of water, about two miles from the shore. The flood having run out by evening, we weighed anchor, and before we were under sail had a fresh wind astern. We therefore set all the sail we could, having a favorable wind and tide, by which means we came before Portland.
5th, Wednesday. We still had a fair wind and kept our course W. by S. We passed Portland, and came in sight of Goutstar,[70] and arrived off against it about noon. Our mate was of opinion that we had run by the rock of Meeusteen or Jetston,[71] and should have it on the larboard; but on looking out afterwards we found it right before us, about four miles off. We had therefore to hold up and leave it on the starboard. It is a large rock having its head just above the water. It rises up straight, but is very much hacked, which makes it look like a reef. Whenever the sea is rough it is under water. It is dangerous enough, and lies far out in the channel, farther than it is marked down on my chart. We certainly had reason here again to observe the care of the Lord, and His protection through His good providence, which always watches paternally over His children, shown in our becoming aware of this rock before the evening, and just before the evening, for we had not well gone by it before it was dark. If we had been sailing so at night, or if we had not now discovered it, the mate's calculation being as it was, we certainly should not have missed sailing upon it; for when we first saw it, it was straight before us, and we were sailing with a fair wind and tide up to it. We were therefore touched, and thankful to the Lord. This passed, we still, while the sun was going down clear, made Deadman's Head,[72] a point jutting out from England, so that we reckoned we were still twenty-eight or thirty-two miles from Falmouth Bay; but the wind had fallen off somewhat. My calculation was, that we were about twelve or sixteen miles from Falmouth.
6th, Thursday. During the night I heard the ship tack close about, and therefore supposed that the wind had changed, or that the ship had run too far, or, what was more probable, I was afraid, the wind being about S.E., we had fallen more to the shore. Our mate Evert and I thought we should stand off a little till daylight; but the captain tacked about again, so that we then sailed N.E., intending thus to enter the harbor of Falmouth, but we found no opening, and when the day broke, discovered that they had made a mistake, and had taken the point of Deadman's Head for the point of Falmouth Bay. When the sun rose, they saw they were deep in the bay, on a lee shore, where it all looked strange, and they had a tolerably hard wind. When they saw they were wrong it continued so some time before they became informed. They then wore ship, and sailed with quite easy sheets out of the bay.
This mishap was mainly caused by Master Jan, who wishing to play the part of a wise man, though truly it was from fear, had been on deck several times during the night in order to look out, afraid, as he said himself, that we might sail upon the point of the Lizard.[73] Coming up at this time with drowsy eyes, and catching a glimpse of the land, through the mist, he began to call out, that we had passed by Falmouth, and would certainly sail upon the Lizard. It was the English mate's watch, who was not very well acquainted with him, and could not keep him still. The captain was therefore called, who also came up rubbing his eyes, and unable to see the land well in the mist. He agreed with Jan, being apprehensive that the ship had sailed more than they thought, and as I myself considered might well be the case, and so let the ship tack about. I deemed it better, however, to keep off from the shore till daylight, when they could see where they were; but the captain relying more upon Jan's opinion, and wishing to accomplish half a masterpiece, by going into Falmouth in the dark, and surprising the people there to whom the ship was consigned, and so to pass hereafter as a good and skillful captain, insisted upon sailing in, and so they went in, as has been mentioned. It is no part of the business of a good seaman to run into a place by night, or when it is dark, where he is not well acquainted; but in such case he should work off shore slowly, waiting until day and light, and know where he is, and then see what can be done. Thus the fear of one danger, and the rashness accompanying it, brought us into another, greater than the first.